Tokyo Exorcism Diary

“Ah, ouch, ouch, ouch…” Asaba Shinichi winced, glancing down at his left arm, blood dripping from the severed stump wreathed in swirling black mist. Groaning, he raised his blade and sliced off the cursed flesh tainted by Onikiri’s corruption. He tore off the hem of his samurai uniform, wrapping the crude cloth around the wound before letting out a weary sigh and turning to face Hoshino Gen.

Hoshino Gen’s face was a little pale. He had already pressed a purification talisman onto the wound on his arm—he, too, had been struck by Muramasa’s curse.

No… calling it Muramasa wasn’t entirely accurate. Just before Asaba Shinichi delivered the final blow, he’d fed the blade with blood, triggering some kind of transformation.

Hoshino Gen’s gaze fell on the cursed blade in Asaba Shinichi’s hand. The moon-white blade was seeping dewdrops, cleansing the blood that had stained its surface.

The sword’s name had changed.

Cursed Blade—Murasame.

“Tch… this is such a disgrace. Came knocking all cocky, only to get my hand chopped off.” Asaba Shinichi sighed, bending down to pick up his severed hand. Despite his far graver injury, his nonchalant demeanor made it seem as if Hoshino Gen was the one missing a limb.

He slid Murasame into his own shadow, the darkness swallowing the blade like a bottomless pool.

“Ah… you’re Hoshino Gen, right? I owe you an apology.” Carrying his severed hand in his right hand, Asaba Shinichi spoke with genuine sincerity. “If I’d known you were this strong, I would’ve used Murasame from the start. Underestimating you was my mistake.”

The purification talisman dissolved into a clear stream, washing over Hoshino Gen’s mist-veiled wound—but the curse was proving stubborn.

Without warning, Asaba Shinichi tossed him an omamori(Amulet).

“Use this. It’s made specifically to dispel Murasame’s curse.”

Hoshino Gen caught it. The charm scattered into shimmering fragments of light, enveloping him. When the light faded, the white mist on his arm had vanished.

“And about your door—someone will come to fix it tomorrow.” Asaba Shinichi grinned. As he spoke, a crow inked in black lines flitted out from the alley’s shadows, snatching a pair of sunglasses from the ground before flying to perch on his shoulder.

Asaba Shinichi took the sunglasses, slipped them on, and flashed a grin.

“Any more, and it’d be too unfair for a guy wearing three ability locks. Let’s call it a day—I had a lot of fun. See you around.”

With that, he sank into the shadow at his feet, his body swallowed up by the darkness. Just before his head vanished, he suddenly grinned and added:

“Oh, right. I live at 37 Minami-Tamachi. Feel free to come by anytime.”

The night breeze brushed against Hoshino Gen’s face. The remnants of Onikiri dissolved into streams of light, flowing back into his arm. He narrowed his eyes at the spot where Asaba Shinichi had disappeared.

He hadn’t expected the government to have someone like this hidden away… but then again, maybe he should have. After all, that was the machinery of the state.

A draw, huh?

Even with three ability locks suppressing him, Hoshino Gen knew Asaba Shinichi hadn’t gone all out either. He hadn’t unleashed Murasame from the start, nor had he used his shadow manipulation during the fight. From start to finish, Asaba Shinichi had only been testing him with the sword alone.

On the surface, Hoshino Gen had dominated the fight… but thinking back, the man had been holding back the whole time.

A faint smile curved at Hoshino Gen’s lips—an expression of rare pleasure.

37 Minami-Tamachi? That wasn’t too far.

…

On the way home, Hoshino Rin kept peppering him with questions. But aside from a few things about Marika, Hoshino Gen ignored most of them.

In truth, he had no special plans for Marika. Like the other vessels, she would be displayed in the exhibition hall. The only reason she’d been able to manifest a spirit form again was because he’d forcibly awakened her with his own blood.

Once the yang energy in his blood was exhausted, Marika would return to slumber. Without external intervention, she would simply recover slowly within the vessel.

Just before they reached home, Hoshino Gen’s phone buzzed with a message. He pulled out his phone, realizing he’d missed a call from the same number.

He opened the message and let out a low chuckle.

“They really have sharp eyes and ears.”

Both the call and message were from his father, inviting him to attend a banquet after school tomorrow.

Attached was a map and a string of links—all detailing a girl named Amamiya Sashi.

The photo showed a rather pretty girl—petite, with baby-fat cheeks and a pair of small tiger teeth that peeked out when she smiled, making her look adorably sweet.

She attended Futaba Girls’ High School in Setagaya Ward. Her family had considerable influence in both business and politics.

If he were to marry Amamiya Sashi, the Hoshino Foundation and Amamiya Group would form an alliance—one that couldn’t be measured in mere wealth. The political resources exchanged would create a bond not easily severed by something as simple as breaking off an engagement.

Hoshino Gen chuckled, closing the phone and stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Who was that?” Hoshino Rin asked curiously. “Is something up?”

“Nothing much.” Hands in his pockets, Hoshino Gen answered lazily. “Just someone reminding me it’s time for a arranged marriage meeting.”

“Huh?” Hoshino Rin blinked, stunned as if she’d been struck by lightning.

…

In a high-end apartment in Setagaya Ward, Takasugi Yusuke stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying his damp hair with one hand while scrolling through messages on his phone.

As he passed the living room, he glanced at the woman lounging on the sofa, munching snacks and watching dramas.

“Cousin, I won’t be home for dinner tomorrow. No need to make my share.”

The woman had long wine-red hair and a curvaceous figure. If Hoshino Gen were here, he’d recognize her instantly—Special Affairs Unit member, Asakura Meika.

Asakura Meika glanced back and teased, “What, got a date?”

“Just a job.” Takasugi Yusuke shrugged. “I’m broke lately.”

Asakura Meika rolled her eyes. “I offered you money and you refused. Now you’re complaining? You’re impossible.”

Takasugi Yusuke just smiled and walked back to his room without another word.