Exorcism in Hiragana

Hiragana District, the Second

At 11 PM, the soft light of dawn gradually fades, shifting from a warm yellow to a cold blue in the sky, signaling the end of activities at the Hiragana sports academy and the arrival of night.

The rain, once light, intensifies, falling heavily and resonating on the ground like a melancholic symphony. This climatic change is constant in Crea: with the arrival of Nox in the sky, darkness, cold, and rain take over every corner, enveloping everything in a heavy presence.

The darkness reveals human sorrow, intensified by the choices made when drinking from sin and bathing in evil. The weight of regret lingers in the air as the shadows of the night deepen.

Facing this, Yami, with a time-hardened familiarity, stands at the entrance, gazing at the place with a firm expression.

He stands there, at the entrance, before an imposing gate, flanked by a concrete floor where athletes and students usually gather before classes and training sessions. There are concrete tables and seats, an environment he detests.

Looking further ahead, Yami contemplates the main building, which boasts a sober architecture with the institution's name prominently displayed. Cold colors dominate the railings beside the now deep black metal gate, while gray prevails, coloring the concrete of the wall and the entire building.

Around him, two wings stretch out, designated for masters, teachers, and trainers, all connected by corridors to the main building, forming a complex that seems to enclose all the academy's architectural secrets.

Around him, the teachers head to the parking lot behind the building, while the students take the opposite path, hurrying away, immersed in a collegiate atmosphere, exchanging laughter and gossip. Most of them are between the ages of 14 and 17.

Yami is immersed in the crowd. The people around him watch with strangeness, and some even with a certain relief. Facing these reactions is a constant routine for him, after all, being an exorcist is not exactly well-regarded by society.

Even though the supernatural is real, dealing with things only you can see can be a trigger for others' ignorance.

Without hesitation, Yami takes his first steps, passing through the metal gate and entering through the double glass doors. His determination is reflected in his eyes as he avoids making eye contact with those around him. Despite his striking presence, he detests crowds, focusing on his surroundings to keep moving forward.

As he steps onto the staircase that divides the building into two immense corridors, a shiver runs down his spine, extending from his neck to the tips of his fingers. His supernatural instinct is heightened, alerting him to something unusual around him.

"Negative energy…

Well, the first step is to see the old man!"

Momentarily ignoring the urgency of his own instinct, he begins to climb the steps, each step flowing precisely toward the second floor.

The route to the principal's office forms in his mind, and his steps are careful, always attentive to the rooms along the way. Although none show signs of presence, they are typical classrooms, all with doors open, suggesting that, given the time, the cleaning crew will soon come into action.

There was no possibility of social interaction, as everyone was focused on their work. For him, this was great, as starting a conversation with someone is more uncomfortable than engaging in conflict with an entity.

Upon reaching the corridor's bend, he turns without hesitation, observing through one of the many windows on the left. Outside, only a few students remain, scattered like raindrops, practically emptying the place.

"Great… the fewer people, the better!"

His eyes then fix ahead, spotting the wooden door that ends the corridor, with a sign posted on it.

General Director's Office.

He mentally announces the next step as he approaches to knock three times on the wooden door, letting his mind dive into the moment's expectation. After the gesture, he waits, distracted, as his shoes echo on the laminated floor. He observes the surroundings with a mix of anxiety and curiosity.

"Nothing has changed…"

When the door opens, the man before him expresses a radiant smile upon seeing him, his lips stretched from ear to ear in greeting. He remains a plump man, now older, with thinning hair and wearing a suit that barely closes around his body.

— Finally, Yamasaki Yami! You haven't changed a bit, huh! I still remember that grumpy face… — he jokes, stepping away from the entrance and gazing at him more clearly, — Please, come in!

Yami lets out a half-hearted laugh and enters the room, moved by sheer force of will.

— Well, you haven't changed either, huh? Mr. Director…

— Ah, don't be modest, age hasn't treated me well! — he responds, heading to his chair, situated behind his desk. The room resembles a corporate office, with industrial furniture framing the environment. And on his shelf, the awards won over time thanks to his management and administration.

"Modest?"

As he adjusts his hands on the desk, he casts a firm gaze toward the exorcist and continues:

— Well, putting aside the good humor of two gentlemen that we are, let's talk business… please, sit!

— Ah, sure… gentleman…

Yami pulls out the chair in front and sits, forcing himself to look the director straight in the eyes.

— Well, about the business… since it's a job for a low-rank exorcist, two ranks below, obviously I won't charge the full amount…

He's about to continue when suddenly he hears the sound of the drawer opening. The man pulls out a check and miserably shakes it between his fingers, displaying a greedy smile on his face.

— Yamasaki, please, I called you also because of your graduation… I was aware of the amounts, see for yourself.

He hands him the check, the amount making his eyes shine.

— 55 thousand yen! Is this for real? Or are you kidding me, director?

— Obviously, the truth is that I've had this problem for a while, but I waited until I got the news of your return. Well, something that would bring benefits to the academy in the future. Think, how imposing would it be? Hiring such an expensive exorcist to demonstrate how high the level of this academy is?

Even he is surprised by what comes out of the man's mouth.

— Ah, yes… no doubt…

Yami furrows his brow and immediately averts his gaze. He's not the type to care about the character of his clients, but the entire conversation deeply disheartens him.

"This guy almost killed his students because of this? Damn!"

His fingers, impatient, slide down his leg, taken by an overwhelming restlessness that consumes him completely.

— So, do you think you'll resolve this quickly? I mean, do I have to wait until the end, right? And what time can I get out of here? — Nakata bombards him with questions, becoming a bit awkward.

Yami, immersed in his thoughts, fixes his eyes on the clock hanging on the wall, showing 11:28 PM.

— Yamasaki? — he calls, noticing his distraction, pulling him out of the unease he's immersed in.

— Ah? I, well, yes! From what I understand, there are two possibilities here. If the entity is spread throughout the place, it will be quick. If it's more concentrated, it will take a little longer, enough for me to find the horizon of supernatural events, which will lead me to the center! — he responds confidently, making the director's eyes shine, instantly standing up afterward, — In both cases, less than half an hour! — turning his eyes toward the door.

The young man lets out a deep sigh, as if ready to escape, while the old man applauds him, a greedy smile on his face.

As the exorcist heads for the door, the elder makes one last comment: — I knew I should have hired you from the start! Well, I'll be waiting!

— Right… — Yami responds coldly and leaves, facing the corridor once again and closing the door behind him with great relief.

He watches one of the classroom doors close in the distance, accompanied by the soft sound of locks being engaged.

"The cleaning crew has arrived.

Well, I need to understand the energy flow in the stairs; I felt the thread, but it vanished when I came up to this floor, or at some point along the way!

Damn, I can't discern, this is deplorable, but maybe, by elevating my aura, I can force an apparition."

He rests his right hand on his chin, letting the left sink into his pockets, immersed in deep thought.

— Hmm… in the end… It's tricky to discern whether it's safe or not without understanding this thing's capabilities. I should have asked that opportunist for more information! — he whispers, lamenting his lack of foresight.

Facing the scorn, he lets out a deep sigh.

"Well, I can stop emanating the aura and focus on my deduction skills.

The fact that the stairway emanates energy is already a clue!"

His shoulders slump as he finally decides on his next step. Extending his hand, pulling it from his pocket, he finds a candy. With agility, he unwraps it and tosses it into the air, catching it in his mouth.

His movements are the only ones resonating in that corridor.

Until, breaking the silence, a female scream echoes down the corridor, not of surprise or despair, but a scream followed by a deadly silence, sharp and shrill enough to doubt if the one who made it is still alive.

The dark energy flows harmoniously with the sound, like a breeze that caresses his hair, only to disappear the moment he perceives it, wrapping him in a sudden shiver.

— Let the games begin! — he quips, with a smirk, his eyes fixed ahead.