The Sun Rises Anyway

Not long after, the two were standing outside the blackened shell of the house.

“So, how do we go about this?” Naomi whispered, her arms swinging excitedly. “Do we sneak in and wait for a moment like—bang? Or do we barge in and—whoosh—catch it by surprise?”

“Neither. It’s already sensed us. No point beating around the bush.” Eiji shook his head and stepped through the threshold.

Upon entering, two pairs of eyes immediately pierced the gloom. One belonged to Makoto, the orphan, still huddled in his corner. The other belonged to a spirit. She looked like a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties, enveloped in a soft, warm blue glow. Her eyes were kind, though they held a distinct, hollow glaze.

It was a perfect mask.

“I didn't find anything at the park,” Eiji declared, his voice echoing in the hollow room. “But I think I’ve found it now.”

“What do you want from us?!” Makoto spat, scrambling to his feet.

“Hey, Makoto-kun, calm down! No need to get upset, right?” Naomi threw her hands up, trying to keep the peace.

“I don’t even know you!”

“Kanzaki Eiji. Exorcist.” The young man didn’t blink. “Now you know.”

“Exorcist?” Makoto’s bravado faltered. He shrank back toward the blue glow.

“What do you want from Makoto, Exorcist?” The woman spoke for the first time. Her voice was soft, pleading—the kind of voice that could break a person’s heart.

“From the kid? Nothing. It’s you I’ve got business with.”

“Can’t a mother worry over her child even after death?” the specter asked, her tone dripping with artificial sorrow. “Can’t you just... overlook this?”

“Maybe... if you weren't lying through your teeth.”

“I was just trying to—”

“Devour him!” Naomi suddenly blurted out, shifting everyone’s focus to her.

“Uhm, sorry... isn't that what they do? Specters, I mean...”

“What are you talking about? Just leave us alone!” Makoto shouted. To him, this wasn't a monster; it was his only tether to the life he’d lost. He didn't want the truth. He wanted his mother. And Eiji was someone trying to take away his mother a second time.

Eiji faltered for a second.

It fell to him to unmask the wolf. To tear the son away from the false parent. It was the duty of an exorcist—cruel, unjust, and absolutely necessary.

Eiji knew it was unfair. Because somewhere deep within him he knew Makoto was another version of himself.

Had he encountered an Obake that took the form of his sister when he was Makoto’s age…

Would he want to wake up from that delusion?

But now he couldn’t waver any longer. He had to perform his duty.

“That is not your mother, Makoto.” Eiji gritted his teeth, his gaze unwavering.

“What are you talking about?! She’s right here!”

“Your mother is not here anymore,” Eiji stated, each word like a slow turn of a knife in an open wound. “People don’t just come back. And when they do, it’s never for the reasons you think.”

“You’re a liar!” Makoto barked.

“Makoto, don't listen to him,” the specter hissed, her voice growing colder, more hurried. “He just wants to pull us apart.”

“Senpai isn't lying!” Naomi furrowed her brows, stepping forward to back him up.

“Why would I believe you?!”

“You don't need to.” Eiji sighed and pulled a white slip of paper from his pocket. “The charade is over.”

“No!” The specter let out a hoarse howl.

It was too late. Eiji held the talisman between his index and middle fingers. The kanji for Seal glowed a violent red in the dark.

“Reveal.”

The paper ignited into sparks. With the distinct chime of a bell, a brilliant flash of light filled the room. The specter screamed—a sound no human throat could produce.

“UUARRRGH!”

Under the harsh moonlight, the "mother" convulsed. Her skin bubbled and shrank, transforming into a skittering, insect-like creature with too many legs and a contorted, human-like face.

“CURSE YOU!” it clicked, scrambling up the concrete stairs in a desperate bid for the upper floor.

“What have you done to my mother?!” Makoto stared in horror at the thing that looked nothing like his parent.

“Damn it! You—handle things here!” Eiji shouted to Naomi before bolting up the stairs after the escaping spirit.

“Me?! Handle things?” Naomi blinked, bewildered. She looked at the wide-eyed, sobbing boy and then back at the stairs. How am I supposed to handle this?

“Come back here, you little...!”

Eiji clicked his tongue, his eyes darting through the charred remains of the upper floor. Suddenly, the glowing specter dropped from the ceiling, claws outstretched.

Eiji backstepped, the wind of the swipe whistling past his nose. The Obake’s true form was a nightmare—a spider’s body topped with a head like a mask of contempt from an ancient play.

The creature growled, its body trembling as it shifted again. With a deafening howl, its mass expanded, its limbs thickening into the hulking, muscular form of an ogre.

“RAAAH!”

It swung a massive fist. Eiji dove low, the blow narrowly missing him but obliterating the inner walls behind him. Debris rained down as the structural integrity of the first floor groaned.

Eiji didn't wait for a second swing. He seized the initiative, sliding beneath another wild blow. He smirked. A bigger body just meant a bigger target.

Red lightning crackled across his fist, the static popping in the dusty air. He drove his arm into the ogre’s gut with professional efficiency.

“ARRGH!” The specter reeled back. “You lowly human...!”

Realizing size wasn't an advantage against Susanoo’s lightning, the Obake shrank again. It hit the floor with a wet hiss, its skin turning into the mottled scales of a snake. It lunged, opting for speed and venom over raw power.

Eiji twisted his head, the poisonous fangs snapping inches from his ear. He pulled back, tracking the flicker of movement.

“DIE!” the snake hissed, lunging one last time.

Eiji’s hand moved in a blur. He caught the creature mid-air, right behind the head. “Gotcha.”

He unleashed a torrent of red lightning directly into its body, charring it from the inside out.

“AAAARRRGH!”

The spirit’s cries filled the building as it fell limp. It shifted one last time, reverting to its original, hideous insect-head form. A bright, red flame flickered deep within its chest—the sign of a shattered spirit.

Eiji exhaled, his chest heaving as he wiped sweat from his brow. He knelt before the dying Obake.

“Say... does this ring a bell?”

He pulled the playing card from his pocket, waving it before the creature’s fading eyes. This was his obsession. A shapeshifter like an Obake could have easily been the killer he saw that day.

The specter’s soul was fading fast. “I’m not the one you’re searching for, exorcist...” its voice was a mere whisper, already drifting toward the afterlife.

“Does that mean you know who I’m looking for?”

The spirit was silent. Its artificial body withered into ash, the flame within it sputtering. The soul was already standing at the threshold of the next world.

Eiji clicked his tongue and rose, pulling out his key. With a flick, it became a blade.

Cling.

The soft chime of a suzu bell signaled the end. Eiji severed the cord, destroying the chains binding the spirit to the mortal plane. As the glowing green particles began to drift upward, Eiji gathered them into his vial, the room bathing in the soft, stellar light of a successful exorcism.

“…”

Emerging from his combat trance, Eiji stood in the sudden silence of the upper floor. The heavy, oily pressure of the Specter’s lair was evaporating, replaced by the cool night air filtering through the collapsed walls.

The exorcism was over.

But as the adrenaline faded, a different kind of tension took its place. Eiji had told Naomi to "handle things" downstairs, but he wasn't sure if that had been a mistake. She was green, naive, and shielded from the world’s ugliness. How could she possibly navigate the raw grief of a child who had just seen his "mother" turn into a monster?

He descended the scorched concrete steps, his ears picking up the jagged sobbing of a child.

Figures, he thought, bracing himself for a mess.

But the sight that met him on the lower level stopped him dead in his tracks.

Naomi wasn’t standing awkwardly to the side or looking panicked. She was sitting on the debris-strewn floor, hugging Makoto close. The boy was buried in her shoulder, his sobs muffled by her blazer as she softly caressed the back of his head.

“Wha…” A small, confused sound escaped Eiji.

“It’s okay, Makoto-kun…” Naomi’s voice was a low, enticing hum. It had a quality to it—a frequency that seemed to catch the jagged edges of a person’s heart and smooth them over. “Your mom wouldn’t want to see you this sad.”

“But… but I…”

“I know the orphanage doesn't feel like home yet,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye with a gentle smile. “But in time, it’ll become your safe place. I promise.”

“What am I going to do now?” The boy’s tears were a fresh downpour. “Without Mom, I’m…”

“Your mom will always be with you, Makoto-kun. She gave her life for you once, and she’d do it a thousand times over if she had to.” Naomi chuckled softly, a warm, genuine sound. “That’s just how moms are. So you have to keep living—for her sake, too.”

“For Mom’s sake?”

“Yes. And in time, you’ll find a purpose of your own.”

The boy sniffled heavily, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “You want to make her proud, don't you?”

“I… I do!” Makoto nodded, his small frame shaking with resolve.

“Then you have to be strong for her.” Naomi smiled, gently wiping the salt from his cheeks.

“Right…” The boy looked around the blackened ruins of his old life one last time. He nodded again, firmer this time. “Strong.”

As Eiji watched from the shadows of the staircase, his sister’s voice echoed in his mind like a long-lost frequency.

Words will save someone far more than strength ever will.

Was this what Hifumi had meant? He could kill the monsters, but he couldn't heal the scars they left behind. Just ridding the world of Specters didn't automatically equate to happiness.

The girl he’d deemed "weak" had just performed a service as vital as the exorcism itself. She’d turned a moment of absolute despair into a flicker of hope. Her optimism wasn't shallow; it was a goddamn power source. In a world as dark as the one she’d just stepped into, her light was the only thing capable of illuminating the depths.

I owe her one, Eiji realized.

Makoto raised his tear-stricken face to stare back at the exorcist.

“You… my mother… that thing…” the boy was stuck between a state of anger, fear and doubt.

Eiji didn’t bat an eye.

“It had to be done.”

Makoto gave a small nod.

“Be brave.”

After dropping Makoto back at the orphanage—and extracting a pinky-promise that he’d stop his midnight excursions—the two teenagers finally walked back to the bike.

Before they could leave however, Makoto met them back at the door.

“Exorcist…”

Eiji stared back at him.

“Be brave.”

Naomi smiled, “Bye, Makoto-kun.”

The two didn’t stand around any longer, as the caretaker’s profuse gratitude followed them into the street.

“You think Makoto-kun will be alright, Senpai?” Naomi looked up at the sky.

The night was losing its grip. On the horizon, the sun was preparing to reclaim its throne, bleeding soft pinks and greys across the blue-black canvas of the yonder.

“He will,” Eiji replied, gripping the handles of his bike.

“Heh. We did a good job tonight!” Naomi beamed. “By the way, what was that paper thing you used to unmask the monster?”

“That was a talisman!” Meh popped up, ever-ready to serve as the narrator for unwanted trivia.

“A talisman?”

“A strip of paper treated with an Exorcist’s own blood! It possesses magical properties, mainly used to reveal hidden truths and protect—”

“Long story short, it’s a tool,” Eiji cut him off with a sigh.

“Then why don't you use them all the time?”

“Oye, those things take a toll on the user, just like my other abilities. It’s not free energy.”

“Wow! That’s going straight into my future manga!” Naomi’s eyes sparkled.

“Your… what?”

“Oh, nothing! Are we going home now?”

Eiji shook his head, staring at the rising sun. “I still have one more place I want to go.”

“Really? But the sun’s coming up!”

“You coming or what?”

Naomi hesitated. Her brain was screaming for sleep, but her heart had already reached a different conclusion. Her Senpai was inviting her somewhere—and in her sleep-deprived mind, this was basically a date. A weird, supernatural, crack-of-dawn date.

“Argh…” Naomi struggled for a split second before her determination won out. “I’m in!”

“Hop on, then.” Eiji beckoned her over.

⌁◉⌁

The route to their destination was short, but steep. Eiji’s bike handled the incline without a stutter, even if Naomi was clinging to his waist a bit too tight for comfort.

The streets had been ghost-town empty when they started, but as they climbed, more vehicles began to emerge from their slumber. The city was slowly stretching, shaking off the night. Finally, the road leveled out, ending at the foot of a long, elegant flight of stone steps.

At the top, framed by blooming cherry blossom trees, stood a Shinto shrine.

Eiji parked the bike and began the ascent. Naomi, who was clearly not built for cardio, had plenty to say about it—though she was too busy huffing and puffing for dear life to actually form words.

“We… there… yet?”

“I’m already there,” Eiji called back, walking upward with nonchalant ease.

“Senpai… you…” With one final, desperate push, Naomi conquered the last step.

She reached the spacious clearing of the shrine, her boots crunching on fallen cherry petals. She turned to her upperclassman, a complaint loaded at the tip of her tongue, but the sight before her made her swallow it whole.

“Woah….”

She walked toward the red-painted railing. Without buildings or trees to obscure the view, the city lay below them in a full, staggering display. The blocks of concrete, the shiny billboards, and the winding roads merged into a single, colorful canvas. The sun, a half-risen orange bead, bled its gleaming hue across the horizon, painting the world in gold.

“It’s beautiful…” Naomi whispered.

Eiji didn't answer. He walked toward the shrine box and pulled two vials from his bag. The liquid crystals inside glowed softly. He offered them up and clasped his hands together, bowing his head.

“May you find peace in Yomi, where you lie.”

The ritual was short. The cleansed souls within the glass could finally rest. As Naomi watched him, she felt that nagging sense of familiarity again. There was something about the way he stood—something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

“Here.”

Eiji snapped her out of it, tossing a can of juice her way. She fumbled with it, the cold metal dancing between her palms before she finally secured it.

“100% Ichigo? Strawberry juice…?” Naomi looked at the label with a wry smile.

“What? I figured you’d like strawberry or something.” Eiji shrugged and leaned against the railing, popping the tab on his own orange juice.

“I do! It’s just a weird choice for a canned juice, don't you think?” She chuckled and leaned beside him.

For a moment, they just stood there. A gentle morning breeze swept through the clearing, carrying the scent of blossoms and the song of early birds.

Peace. Naomi thought. So this is what it feels like.

“Senpai?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for bringing me here.” She turned and bowed deeply, without a hint of hesitation or shame.

Eiji looked away, visibly uncomfortable with being thanked. He stared out at the awakening city. “…Nee-chan loved this place.”

His voice was low, but Naomi caught every word. “Your… sister, Senpai?”

“Yeah. My mother, too. We’d come here every New Year’s. It wasn't flashy or crowded—mostly just locals and the priest. It was quiet.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” Naomi said, looking at the wind chimes dancing in the air.

Eiji nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. He seemed to be searching for something in the distance. “You wanted to know what happened to my family, right?”

Naomi hesitated, then nodded. “I do.”

“My father abandoned us when I was a newborn. We scraped by for a few years before Mom fell ill. I moved in with my sister and her boyfriend… then, on my eleventh birthday, I came home and found them both dead.”

Naomi gasped, her hands flying to her chest.

“A stranger took me in after that, then I moved out on my own last year.” Eiji let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Pathetic, right?”

Naomi started to say 'I'm sorry,' but she stopped herself. Those words were hollow—they didn't offer comfort for a story that heavy.

“Is that why you became an exorcist?” she asked instead.

“I didn't choose it. My father apparently sold my soul to a God before he vanished. That was the 'gift' he left me.”

“Sold your soul…?” Naomi looked baffled.

“Long story short, that’s how Exorcists are made.”

“Wow…”

Naomi didn't know what else to say. How do you respond to a life that had been traded away before it even started? But as she looked at him—shrouded in darkness yet standing in the light—she couldn't help but smile. Eiji wasn't good with people, and he definitely wasn't on good terms with himself, but his eyes reminded her of someone.

“Hazuki…” she whispered.

“Eh?”

“Oh, nothing.” Naomi leaned closer to him.

The sun finally took its throne in the sky, shedding light across every inch of the land. The city was wide awake now. Naomi couldn't wipe the grin off her face, so she broke the silence to hide her giddiness.

“I’ve never seen the sun rise before.”

Eiji looked at her for a moment.

“It rises… whether you look at it or not,” Eiji muttered.

“Yeah… Life just goes on, I guess.”

“That it does.” Eiji sighed, turning away from the blinding light. He wasn't the type to bask in it.

“Say, Senpai!” Naomi’s energy came roaring back, like a solar-powered android hitting a full charge.

Eiji exhaled deeply, sensing the incoming storm. “What now?”

“I forgot to mention, but I’ve already submitted your form to join the Occult Club!”

“I didn't sign any form…”

“No need! I signed it for you.”

“Oi. I’m suing.”

“Eiji-dono!” Meh popped up out of nowhere, sensing the banter.

“Not you, too…”

“We must be on our way! The news broadcast is about to begin!”

“I couldn't care less about—”

“Senpai!”

“WHAT?!” Eiji hissed, feeling like a boxer on the ropes.

“I just realized! We have school tomorrow… I mean, today!”

“Oh, for fuck’s—”

“And twenty missed calls from Mom?!”

“I'm out of here.”