The luxurious black car glided smoothly through Tokyo’s neon-lit streets, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows.
Inside, the atmosphere was strangely cheerful — at least for one of them.
”Hahaha!
You should’ve seen your face when that talisman hit!” Kairo leaned back in the leather seat, laughing loudly as he recounted the fight.
“Eyes rolling back like a broken puppet!
Classic!”
From the driver’s seat, a burly man with a shaved head and sunglasses chuckled deeply.
“Boss really went easy on him.
I’ve seen demons explode from that technique.
Kid’s lucky he still has a torso.”
Kairo burst out laughing even harder, slapping his knee.
“Right?!
I thought he was gonna cry blood!”
Akira sat beside him, staring blankly at the floor of the car.
His face was pale, eyes hollow.
The traumatic memories kept flashing — blood on his hands, Saki’s terrified expression, the sound of bones breaking.
He looked half-dead inside.
Kairo finally glanced over and blinked.
“Oi, Akira?” He nudged the boy’s shoulder with his elbow.
Akira jolted, blinking rapidly as he came back to reality.
“Ah— sorry…” he muttered, voice weak.
“I zoned out.
Can you… repeat that?”
Kairo’s smirk returned, sharp and playful.
“I said Gashin is surprisingly entertaining.
For an ancient Devouring Eclipse, he’s got decent personality.
Violent, sure.
But entertaining.” He winked.
“You two are gonna be fun to train.”
The car eventually pulled up to a sleek, hidden facility disguised as a high-end corporate building.
Kairo led Akira inside and waited outside a dressing room, arms crossed, humming casually.
A few minutes later, the door slid open.
Akira stepped out wearing the standard exorcist uniform — a sharp black-and-silver outfit similar to Kairo’s, but tailored to his frame.
Around his neck was a striking red scarf, its fabric slightly thicker than normal.
Hidden inside were layers of powerful sealing talismans designed to suppress Gashin’s influence.
Kairo’s eyes lit up.
He clapped his hands enthusiastically.
“Not bad!
Not bad at all!
Makes you look a bit more demonic, actually.
Perfect.”
Akira tugged awkwardly at the scarf.
“This thing… it’s supposed to stop him from taking over, right?”
”Exactly,” Kairo said with a nod.
“As long as you wear it, Gashin stays mostly locked down.
Handy little fashion statement.”
They began walking down the long, polished corridor together.
Kairo shoved his hands into his pockets, ponytail swaying with each step.
”By the way,” he added casually, “you should apologize to Saki later.
Properly.
She’s a real hot-headed girl.
Strong, talented… but she holds grudges.
Especially when someone tries to rip her throat out.”
Kairo suddenly burst into another fit of laughter, clearly picturing the upcoming confrontation.
“Just don’t be surprised if she punches you in the face first.
She’s got a mean right hook!”
Akira sighed heavily, still looking drained.
The weight of everything — the demon inside him, the new life he’d been forced into — pressed down on his shoulders like chains.
Yet somewhere deep inside, a faint, dark pulse of amusement stirred.
Gashin was quietly watching.