I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

Although I had explained the situation over the phone earlier, since Fuma-senpai didn’t know what had happened afterward, we had to take time to go over everything again.
With no better place to talk, we sat around the kotatsu in the night duty room. After hearing about my exploits, the Fuma ninja folks looked at me with pure admiration in their eyes.
“I’d heard you were strong, but I didn’t expect you could take down a tokkyū-class yokai barehanded.”

“…What’s a tokkyū-class?” I asked.
The one who answered was Hyoneko-san.
“In the underworld, yokai are usually ranked by the amount of yin energy they possess.”

According to Hyoneko-san’s explanation, yokai were categorized much like cuts of meat at a butcher—Grade 1, Grade 2, Grade 3—and extremely powerful beings even received names of their own.
Creatures like the Three Great Evil Spirits of Japan or the nue from ancient folktales were such examples.
The term tokkyū here apparently referred to yokai even stronger than Grade 1, a catch-all label for beings powerful enough not to be measured by normal standards, even if they weren’t named individually.

Fuma-senpai, who had been drinking the tea brewed by Mizuki-sensei, asked me a question.
“You said the yokai you fought had a white mask floating in the air, right?”
“Yes.”

“In that case, it might be the same yokai as the ‘white face’ from the school ghost stories.”
“Oh, you know about that too, Fuma-senpai? That Seven Mysteries or whatever?”
Fuma-senpai nodded with a serious expression.

“Well, it is something happening at the school I attend.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“Don’t start talking about stuff only you two know!”

To clear things up for the other ninja who were looking confused, I explained what Satoru had told me over the phone earlier about the six ghost stories.
Hearing that, Hyoneko-san stroked her chin thoughtfully and muttered, “Then this yokai must be a case of a rumor taking form.”
“A rumor taking form?”
“There’s an old idiom—sannin seiko—that says if enough people talk about the same thing, even something that doesn’t exist can take on reality.”

Fuma-senpai added to that explanation.
“A school is a place where tons of people live together every day, which makes it easier for negative emotions to gather. And those negative emotions act as nourishment for yokai born from rumors to grow stronger.”
Listening to the two of them, a question came to mind.

“But then why did it go wild today of all days?”
Fuma-senpai turned to look at Mizuki-sensei, who was sitting in the corner like a stuffed barley sack.
“Yokai have always preferred preying on shrine maidens, monks, or others with spiritual power. In that sense, Mizuki-sensei ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) must’ve looked like a very attractive target to them.”

“An attractive target?”
While I was still trying to grasp what that meant, Hyoneko-san lobbed a direct hit.
“That teacher over there—don’t tell me you’re still a virgin at your age?”

Mizuki-sensei’s face turned bright red.
“What are you saying all of a sudden to someone you just met?! And I’m only 25, okay?!”
Curious, I asked, “Is being a virgin somehow better?”

Fuma-senpai nodded.
“If someone is a pure virgin, has the qualities of a miko, and no ability to protect herself… it’s not strange for most yokai to go absolutely nuts. I’m guessing Mizuki-sensei had been protected up until now by a talisman or a powerful guardian spirit. And now that it’s gone, she’s been exposed.”
Hyoneko-san asked her, “Got any idea what might’ve changed? Sis?”

Holding her head in her hands, Mizuki-sensei thought hard, then seemed to recall something.
“Now that I think about it… when I left my hometown, my dad gave me a protective bracelet as a gift, but it broke last week.”
“That’s it.”

Hyoneko-san sighed and tapped her own forehead.
“Those protective bracelets usually snap on their own when they’ve run out of power. In that case, you should at least buy a mass-produced protective charm from a sacred shrine as a temporary solution.”
Looking puzzled, Mizuki-sensei asked, “Even those mass-made charms work?”

“It depends more on who makes them and where they come from. You can still indirectly receive the blessing of the god enshrined there.”
While the two of them chatted, Fuma-senpai silently pulled something from her pocket.
It was a bracelet made of yellow thread.

“Yellow symbolizes earth, lightning, and prosperity. And the deity enshrined at Mizuki-sensei’s family shrine is Narukami Ikazuchi-no-Kami—a snake god. So a bracelet made of long thread pairs well with that.”
Fuma-senpai handed the bracelet to Mizuki-sensei and added,
“This is only a temporary fix. During summer break, when you have more free time, return to your family home, explain the situation, and receive a proper follow-up ritual.”

“Thank you, Fuma-chan. I should repay you somehow.”
When Mizuki-sensei said that and bowed her head, Fuma-senpai waved her hand.
“You should thank Kim Yu-seong instead. If it weren’t for him, you might’ve been in real danger today.”

Hearing that, Mizuki-sensei bowed to me as well.
“Thank you, Kim-kun. You saved me.”
“Ah, no… I just happened to be there.”

If Satoru hadn’t borrowed that book from me and stuck it in the desk drawer, and if I hadn’t decided to go back for it today instead of waiting till tomorrow morning… I wouldn’t have been there at all.
It’s an almost ‘what-if’ kind of scenario—but thinking about it now, I’m really glad I went to school today.
“So we’re done here?”

Stretching as she emerged from under the kotatsu, Hyoneko-san spoke up.
Fuma-senpai, standing beside her, nodded.
“We’ll handle the cleanup and go.”

She was probably talking about the broken glass in the hallway.
“Will you be okay with that?”
I asked, and Fuma-senpai nodded again.

“For the Fuma Ninja Corps, repairing damage like that is nothing. Concealing traces of battle is one of a ninja’s core duties.”
In that case, there was no choice but to trust them.
“I’ll leave it to you, then.”

“Leave it to us.”
Fuma-senpai then turned to Mizuki-sensei.
“You should head home for the day as well. We’ve handled the basics, but it’s a full moon tonight. That means a particularly rowdy night for malicious spirits. We’ll escort you to your house.”

“Thank you, Fuma-chan…”
It had only been a few hours, but so much had happened that Mizuki-sensei looked completely exhausted.
After that, we gathered our things and exited the school under the cover of night.

No doubt, what had happened tonight would become an unforgettable memory for both Mizuki-sensei and me.
After all, it’s said people remember fear and misfortune far more vividly than happiness.
***

In the end, I got home at 4 a.m.
Which, on a normal day, would’ve been wake-up time for me.
But since I’d gotten caught up in all sorts of madness while looking for my literature textbook, my body was stiff with fatigue, and I chose sleep over my usual morning jog.

I collapsed into bed like I’d been knocked out and when I opened my eyes again, it was already well past 1 p.m.
Since I started working out seriously in my first year of high school, I’d never woken up this late before.
Anyway, with only two days left until exams, I scarfed down a late lunch and locked myself in my room to study the rest of the day.

The next day, I went to the public library near my house and sat in one spot for 12 hours, grinding nonstop to finish my final prep for midterms.
It felt almost like the late-night yokai fiasco on Friday had been a dream—my rhythm had completely returned to normal.
Then came Monday.

Thanks to burning through my weekend, I nailed the first period Japanese and second period Classical Literature exams.
Since those were my weakest subjects, I’d been worried, but it paid off to focus just on them.
After the test, Class 2-B was filled with wails because the questions were much harder than midterms.

Trying to cheer up Satoru, who was packing his bag with an unusually gloomy face, I clapped him on the shoulder and said,
“Yo, Satoru. You really pulled that prank last Friday, huh?”
Satoru turned his head with a “Huh?” and replied,

“What are you talking about? What prank on Friday?”
“Don’t play dumb! When I called you Friday evening and said I was at school, you went off explaining all those Seven Mysteries.”
Satoru looked at me like I was spouting nonsense.

“What’re you on about? I didn’t talk to you on Friday. I had cram school that night, so I turned my phone off.”
“…What?”
I hurriedly pulled out my smartphone from my pocket.

And checked the call log.
“…Nothing.”
Even though I clearly talked to Satoru at school last Friday… his name wasn’t in my call history.

Seeing my reaction, Satoru tilted his head and asked,
“Why are you saying weird stuff all of a sudden? Yu-seong, are you heat-struck or something?”
But Satoru’s jab didn’t even register with me.

Then… who exactly was the Satoru I talked to on the phone that night at school?
I had no way of knowing.