Pale White Lie

“What’s the matter?” Eiji asked as the two of them walked up to the distressed woman.

Instead of answering, the lady looked between the two teenagers, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“What are... what are two high schoolers doing out this late?”

“Psychic detectives at your service—OW!”

Before Naomi could finish her outrageous self-introduction, Eiji landed a crisp chop right on the top of her head.

“Psy-what?”

“Ma'am, this isn't the time to be picky about who answers your distress call,” Eiji said, straightening up.

“You’re right...” The woman sighed, leaning into her anxiety. “I’m a caretaker at the orphanage across the street. I just realized one of the kids is missing.”

“A kid? What does that have to do with spect—Ooow...”

Another chop. Another critical hit. Naomi clutched her head, pouting in silence.

“Missing, you say?” Eiji pressed on.

“Yes. His name is Makoto. He sneaks out sometimes, but it’s never been this late. I’m worried... I’m worried something might happen to him out here.” She pressed her palms together, her voice trembling.

Eiji didn’t break character. “Any clue where he might be going?”

“I can’t be certain, but the house where he used to live... it might be a start.”

“The house where he lived? Is it abandoned?” Naomi asked, finally deciding to stop messing around.

“Yes. It caught fire not too long ago. That’s where he lost his mother... he was admitted to us shortly after.” The woman looked away, “Poor Makoto.”

Lost his mother, huh...

Eiji mulled over those words. He knew exactly what that kind of grief meant for someone like him. It was a magnet for things that went bump in the night.

“Got it. We’ll find the kid,” Eiji nodded.

The lady blinked. “You will?”

“Of course!” Naomi chirped, completely forgetting she hadn't been invited in the first place.

“But you’re just students, and it’s way too late for—”

“Where’s the house located?” Eiji cut her off. Time was wasting.

With an exhausted sigh, the woman resigned herself. “It’s on XX Street, a few blocks past the park.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Eiji turned on his heel.

Naomi rushed to his side. “Hey, Senpai! Wait up!”

“We’re off to that house, right Senpai?” Naomi trotted behind him like a persistent tail.

“Who said you're coming?” Eiji responded, not even sparing her a glance.

“Well, I’m here, aren't I? What harm can it do?”

“A lot.” Eiji halted in front of his bike.

“But I’ve dealt with Specters before! And I can see them!” Naomi reasoned, puffing out her chest.

“Running away doesn't count as 'dealing' with them.”

“Yes, but you’re really strong, Senpai! You can just go whoosh and bang and—”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re dead weight. You’re not cut out for this. You don’t want to get involved with these things.” Eiji’s tone turned cold, his eyes stern.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second. Looking away. Then she raised her chipper voice even higher than normal.

“I’m not afraid of them!”

Eiji stared at her for a long beat. She’d just escaped a curse. She’d lost her best friend. Why was she so fixated on chasing the darkness? He weighed the options. He could leave her here, but she’d probably just follow him in a taxi again.

“Fine. Hop on.” Eiji jerked his head toward the passenger seat.

Naomi’s face lit up like a high-wattage street lamp.

“REALLY? LIKE REALLY REALLY?!”

“Just get on before I change my mind.”

“Yatta!”

“Here.” Eiji handed his helmet to her as she climbed on.

“But what about you, Senpai?”

“Either take it or get off. Your choice.” He kicked the engine to life and twisted the throttle.

As they sped toward the abandoned home, Eiji’s mind was set. He was going to let her see it for herself. The horror. The raw, unfiltered grief that a Specter left in its wake. This would be her first and last "walk" with a person like him.

Exorcism wasn't for the faint-hearted. A girl as pure as her would only be tainted by what lurked in the shadows. This was his plan: a reality check. One night in the trenches, and she’d quietly withdraw back to her normal life.

⌁◉⌁

The destination was even closer than they’d thought. Eiji killed the engine just outside a blackened, skeletal ruin of a house. Like the caretaker had said, it sat right across from the local park—or what was left of it.

The fire had been thorough. The building was small, but the damage made it look even more haggid than the oldest slums in Eiji's neighborhood. It was a hollowed-out corpse of a home, completely unusable.

Stepping over a pile of charred debris, the "fearless" Naomi marched inside without a hint of caution.

“Oi...” Eiji sighed at her recklessness and followed.

“Is there really someone in here?” Naomi narrowed her eyes at the entrance. The door was long gone. The exterior walls were licked with soot, and the windows were pitch-black pits.

The interior was a graveyard of memories. Rubble choked Eiji’s line of sight, and the darkness inside felt heavy, as if the smoke had never truly left.

“No way a kid is in here,” Eiji muttered, shaking his head. The air was thick with ash and decay.

But Naomi had already ventured past the threshold.

“Senpai! There actually is a kid in here!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The deeper they went, the worse it got. Scorched spots marred the walls, and the floor was a minefield of wreckage. The only thing still standing was a bare concrete staircase leading into the gloom above. In the far corner, huddled against the grime, sat a young boy hugging his knees.

This had to be Makoto.

“Hey, uhm… little one? What are you doing here?” Naomi’s voice was soft, trying to play the gentle big sister.

The boy didn't even look up. He just pulled his knees tighter, shutting her out completely.

Eiji didn't do "gentle." He stepped up, towering over the kid.

“Oi. You Makoto?”

“Senpai, maybe try not to be a jerk?” Naomi whispered, but the boy finally spoke.

“What do you want?” His voice was flat—colder and more apathetic than even Eiji’s own.

“How come he replied to you and not me?” Naomi grumbled.

Eiji took another step forward. “Why are you here?”

The boy shot him a look fueled by raw pain and anger. “This is my home.”

It was him, alright.

“Hm.” Eiji went silent, scanning the room. The house was abandoned, but the air wasn't empty. There was a scent clinging to the burnt wood. Something thick. Something oily. The smell of a Specter.

Eiji traced a finger along a soot-stained wall in a slow, circular motion.

“Meh. Anything?”

“Eiji-dono! There is certainly a Specter in the vicinity, but Meh cannot pinpoint the source! This malevolence is proving quite slippery...”

“Don’t worry about that. Is it close?”

“Meh believes so, yes.”

The boy interrupted them. From his perspective, Eiji was just talking to a wall. Or at least that should have been the case.

“Uhm...”

“What is it?” Naomi asked, edging closer.

The kid raised his hand, pointing a trembling finger at the air next to Eiji. “What is that talking eyeball doing here?”

Eiji froze. Naomi’s smile went wry.

The exorcist grabbed Meh like a baseball pitcher and thrust the shikigami toward the kid.

“You can see this thing?”

“Yes...” Makoto nodded awkwardly.

“Then have you seen anything else weird? Maybe something even weirder than this?”

“Eiji-dono, Meh is not weird! Moreover, Meh wishes for Eiji-dono to unhand—”

“Yes,” Makoto cut the shikigami off.

“Where and what exactly did you see?” Eiji asked, letting Meh drift back into the air.

“By the park,” the boy gulped. “There was a... monster.”

“A monster?” Naomi tilted her head. “Maybe it was just a bad dream? Maybe you’re just hungry and—”

“Thank you. We’re going.”

“We are?!”

Eiji turned on his heel and walked out, leaving a wide-eyed Naomi and a silent boy behind.

⌁◉⌁

“What’s the big idea, Senpai?”

“What?”

Eiji leaned against a tree just outside the park and lit a cigarette.

“What about Makoto-kun? We should be convincing him to go back!” Naomi was pacing in circles. “And can we even be sure there’s a Specter in the park? Maybe he was hallucinating or—”

“So you think he’s lying?” Eiji took a long drag.

“Yes! Wait... no. But—Ah!” Naomi shook her head to clear the confusion. She looked at Eiji, a new question forming. “Then… if you truly believe Makoto-kun why aren't we searching the park?”

Eiji took another drag.

“Because I don’t. There’s no Specter here.”

“Eh?”

“I said, there’s no Specter here,” Eiji repeated flatly.

Naomi looked around. A few glowing, translucent figures drifted through the trees—lost souls—but nothing resembling a "monster."

“What about... those people over there by the bench? They look suspicious.”

“Don’t call spirits suspicious. And they’re not Specters.”

“How can you tell?”

“They are just projections. Souls that don't realize they’re dead yet. They’re not harmful... just lost.”

“Shouldn't you be helping them, then?”

“I’m not a shaman. I’m an exorcist. I deal with the ones that bite.”

Shamans handled the peaceful stuff—the "lost" spirits. They used rituals and tricks to guide them home. Eiji’s job on the other hand, was much bloodier.

“But how can you be sure one of them isn’t—”

“You still don't get it, do you?” Eiji puffed out a cloud of smoke. “And I thought you were starting to catch on.”

“Me? Catch on to what?”

“The kid fed us the wrong info on purpose. He knows exactly where the Specter is. He just didn't want us to find it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because the face that Specter is wearing probably belongs to his mother.”

Naomi went pale. She looked back toward the burned-out house.

“The face it’s wearing...?”

“An Obake,” Eiji said.

Meh popped up out of thin air, voic chipper as usual.

“Obake are shapeshifters. They’re not the strongest, but they’re masters of deception. It probably felt our party coming and hid, then told young Makoto to send us away.”

“And why would a kid disobey his mother’s ghost?” Eiji added.

“Wow...” Naomi gulped. “How did you figure all that out?”

“I felt it the second we walked in. It felt us, too. I couldn't force it to show itself, so I drew a glyph on the wall. Once it materializes again, it’s locked in. It won't be able to retreat.”

“So we left so it would think we took the bait... and now we go back and catch it red-handed.”

“Something like that.” Eiji crushed his cigarette under his boot.

“You’re a genius, Senpai!”

“I’m not. You’re just a green-horn.” Eiji scoffed, already walking back toward the house. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go, yo-ho!”