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Chapter Text

It was hard to see Jiji looking so dejected. After Evil Eye had awoken once again and attacked Momo directly he had obviously been shaken to his core. The only ones who would sit with him were now down to you and Grandma Seiko. Even with the two of you around he still slouched his shoulders and would fidget if someone else came into the room.

Not to mention you knew that tonight he would find himself alone in a room he had once happily shared with Okarun. You could understand the divide in their friendship after what happened with Momo. Obviously Evil Eye had singled her out as the biggest threat.

It wasn’t like you were comfortable with what happened either but you found yourself to be more so ruled by conflicting emotions. On one hand Evil Eye was proving to be a menace, on the other Jiji was your friend. Everyone knew he would stop Evil Eye from acting up if he had the power to do so. But he didn’t. And it was startling to wear everyone thin.

And on a third nonexistent hand, you liked him. A lot.

So it hurt to see the normally cheery Jiji so down. You didn’t want him to think no one wanted to be around him because of Evil Eye. Even if the yokai was the reason for the others distancing themselves from him.

“He’s losing his motivation.” Grandma sighed as Jiji left the two of you alone to head upstairs. “You know what they say, better to have one friend than no one.”

“Never heard that one before.” You found yourself muttering. The older woman gave you a blank look, one that said not to be a smartass. “He needs someone in his corner, ‘sides me. Spend some more time with him, bound to be lonely up there at night now.”

“….are you saying to stay in the boy’s room?”
“It ain’t the boy’s room anymore.”
“You should be discouraging me from sharing a room with a boy!”
“Oh? Sounds like ya want to.”

You felt your face grow hot, like you’d been caught in a lie. Not exactly that but your secret was definitely exposed. So why did you have to jump up from the table and retreat upstairs? That pretty much confirmed it! Grandma better not say anything weird to Jiji!

Why are you dragging your bed mat from the girls room? Why are you taking the extra blankets and putting them outside of Jiji’s room? Grandma was totally right, you did want to be closer to him.

This was still kinda weird though, like how do you just convince him to let him sleep in the same room as him? Should you just go in?

There was a slight tremble in your hand as you reached for the sliding door and pulled it aside. Jiji looked like he nearly gave himself whip lash with how quickly he turned around to see who had opened the screen. It honestly would have been funny if you weren’t so dead set on your mission. No, Grandma’s mission! So if anything happened it was basically her fault!

Silently you moved the bed mat next to Jiji’s and began the process of making your bed. Your project is only interrupted by the confused sounds of Jiji. It’s incoherent sentences but you’re fairly certain he’s trying to ask what you're doing.

“I’m staying here.” You answer calmly after wrapping yourself up in the warm blankets and settling down on your bed mat. “Aira keeps snoring and I can’t sleep.” Would it make the pink haired girl mad that you just spilled one of her secrets? Yes. It was the truth though, her snoring was starting to disturb your sleeping pattern. Was it bad enough to drive you into the boy’s room? No.

But he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, um….” Jiji’s voice was soft as he let it trail off. Scanning his form you could catch just the barest hit of a smile on his lips. “I guess if you want to stay I can’t stop you.”

And so you stayed.

Curled up in blankets next to the boy you adored. Truly there was no way you could sleep. Not with Jiji right there, you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. Yet, there you lay stiff as a board. The cold also wasn’t helping. The walls were still in disrepair after all the times Jiji had been struck by a stray drop of water. Or soy sauce. Or boba tea. And rain.

You wondered how he could still try to smile after so many difficulties. It was only now that his spirit was starting to waver. You just hoped that the silent company would be enough to ease some of his troubles.

Your eyes were starting to grow heavy just thinking about all that had happened. You welcomed the unexpected tiredness. Maybe, just maybe you would actually be able to rest for once…..

Chapter Text

Purple. Bright purple glowed behind your eyelids. The light caused you to stir in your sleep. As you started to wake, you noticed that your body was no longer on the soft foam of the bed mat but instead something solid had taken its place. Had you rolled onto the floor in your sleep? You had been known to be a restless sleeper.

But this wasn’t what a floor should feel like. You weren’t laying flat, more so your torso was higher than your legs. So you must be laying on something. As you slowly came to you were greeted by a few rather alarming things.

One, you had rolled over onto your stomach. Leading you to somehow lay across Jiji in your sleep. It must have been colder than you realized for you to unintentionally seek out a secondary source of heat.

And second and probably the first thing you should have noticed, Jiji wasn’t Jiji.

A part of you wanted to pretend to still be asleep but with your eyes wide open and now reflecting in deep purple you knew you were screwed.

The yokia that had taken up residency in Jiji was now fully possessing his body. The eerie glow of his large middle eye practically lit up the room. His normal set eyes bore into your own with growing hostility.

“I will-“ Came the rumble sound of his voice but you cut him off.

Granted it was incredibly stupid. Like a toddler smacking an adult in the face with their open palm. You did so for no good reason but to stop him from speaking further.

And Evil Eye looked at you in mute annoyance. “You humans are pathetic-“ You covered his mouth to silence his angry droning tone. Whenever he spoke it sounded like thunder with a second echo to you. You’d be in a terrible position should he wake the others.

You could see how it would all play out, the yokia would definitely get rid of you first. Laying on his chest made you perfect for launching into the cardboard wall. He’d go for Momo again after that.
“No.” You spoke slowly, holding eye contact with him. There was no good reason for any of your actions, no logic. You just didn’t want another fight to happen. For Jiji to lose even more faith in himself.

The white haired yokia narrowed his dark eyes at you, about to force his reverberating voice past your hand. “Don’t.” The word fell from your lips like you were scolding a misbehaving dog that was about to do something naughty. “Donnn’t.” You cautioned again as if you held any power over Evil Eye.
But he didn’t move, didn’t throw you into a wall. He didn’t even begrudgingly declare how he would kill all humans like he usually did. It would seem that both of you had no idea what this situation called for.

“Shhh.” Was all you could think of. Like there was a possibility to lull the beast back to sleep. “Sleep.”

You removed your hand from his lips, delicately sliding a single digit up the side of his face to his temple. It was hard to get your heart to stop pounding, it hammered against your rib cage as if it wished to escape for its own safety.

Breathing in softly and focusing on the slow exhale of your own breathing was the best you could manage right now. “Sleeeep.” Running your index finger across his forehead below the flowing eye. You continued your easy tail, running the finger down between his eyes, down the bridge of his nose. Tracing the dark outlines of his face to calm him.

Throughout your soft worship of his face the Evil Eye watched, unblinking. Still he did not make a move to throw you. It was almost like he didn’t know what to do. Like no one had ever shown him this sort of tenderness.

Well you knew no one had. Jiji had expressed that when the Evil Eye was just a child, before he had grown into the two hundred year old yokia, that his life had been nothing but isolated. A lonesome existence cut short by the cruelty of others.

Maybe the thought of such a sad life made your heart stop panicking and begin to beat in a steady rhythm again. Did the Evil Eye ever wonder what love felt like? Maybe that’s why he was so violent. So full of envy of what others could experience he was only able to warp it into hate.

Subconsciously you traced the same patterns over his face as you thought of what the yokia had gone through and how he might see the world. It was such a long time to be alive and to be bitter.

You shouldn’t be so distracted with the time bomb you were laying on but the fact that he hadn’t so much as spoken again or twitched eased your mind. It was possible it was all an act. That he was just waiting for the right moment. However you were succumbing to the false sense of security that was blanketing the room.

Your free hand dared to come up and lightly touch his iridescent earrings. They were quite the fashion statement, if they weren’t born out of whatever aesthetics take hold once a yokia is born. Evil Eye had a nice color palette going for himself.
It was idiotic but you smiled a little at the thought of him being born in this era. He might have been some sort of fashion icon with an aloof personality.

Those eyes of his were certainly something. They looked much better now that he didn’t have them glaring at you. Instead they just held in them a blank expression, mixed with just a hint of something like curiosity.

“You’re very pretty.” You hummed down at him as you traced your finger down his face. Some might say that his looks came from him possessing Jiji’s body and they would be half right. He did look like Jiji but there were differences.

His eyes were much more mature and sharp. Obviously there was the noticeable color change and the dark marks that framed his face. His body became a lot more lean even though Jiji had an athletic physique on his own. There was also the giant glowing third eye.

You really shouldn’t be thinking about it too much.

Jiji was your crush and this yokia was just using his body any time cold water landed on him. Cold anything actually.

However you couldn’t bring yourself to break out of this odd trance you found yourself in. Like your own motions of trying to calm him had somehow lulled you into an easy bliss.

It was the type of feeling you get when you’re cuddled up with someone special. That just being close and being able to look at them brought you peace. A magical moment that neither person would dare to break. To feel so safe and loved that you could be vulnerable.

Oh no. Your hands stilled as you tried to fight the sinking feeling in your chest. For a moment you felt unaware of where you were. No, you liked Jiji and only Jiji. Right?

A cold but firm hand ran up the side of your face, thumb running under your jaw. It drew you back to reality, your very real and concerning reality. “I’m going to destroy that wall your friends are behind now.”

“Wait, no!”

Chapter Text

Your voice cracked with urgency, slicing through the suffocating heat radiating from him. His hand didn’t leave your face. If anything, the grip tightened, cold and deliberate.
“Why?”

The single word slithered into the air, low and venom-laced, yet quieter than a whisper. It wasn’t a question so much as a warning. A demand for a truth you weren’t sure you had the strength to give.
Because they’re my friends. Because Jiji would hate himself if you hurt them.

But all that made it past the pounding in your skull was, “Because… you don’t need to.”

The glow from his third eye flared, burning violet into your vision. Heat rolled off his body like a living storm, prickling against your skin. His head tilted, that cruel smile curving his lips. In the depths of that unblinking stare you saw something unearthly. Something heartbreakingly human, so faint you almost doubted it was real.

“Don’t need to?” His laugh was low, sharp enough to cut. “You think I move from need? I am not bound by your fragile mortal logic. I act because I desire and what I desire is their agony.”

His fingers traced your jaw, almost tender, until his nails grazed just enough to sting. “And you presume to deny me that?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, though every nerve in your body screamed to run. “Maybe,” you said softly. “Maybe what you need isn’t blood. Maybe it’s something no one’s ever given you.”
The air shifted. Just slightly. The hum of his energy was still there, thick, violent but beneath it, like a fracture in the roar of a storm, was silence. The kind that felt… hollow. Empty.

His smile faltered, barely but you saw it.

“Something… no one’s given me?” His voice dipped, less sharp, almost curious. A crack in the mask.
Your hand moved before you thought better of it, brushing the edge of his markings, tracing the warm skin near that glowing eye. Every rational thought begged you to stop but the way he stilled beneath your touch rooted you in place.

“Peace,” you whispered. “Just… peace.”
For a heartbeat, the light dimmed. The violet glare softened, and his hand on your jaw loosened, trembling like he didn’t know what to do. For a terrifying moment, you thought it might work. Until that same hand snapped back to the back of your neck, pinning you against his chest with bone-crushing force.

His mouth was by your ear now, breath hot, words curling like smoke.

“You dare offer me peace? After what they took? After what eternity carved into me?” His voice cracked, not with rage but with something worse. Something that sounded like grief wearing the mask of wrath.

Then, low, almost tender, “…I wonder what you’ll sound like when that peace shatters.”

The glow flared violently, wrapping the room in violet fire and all at once, the fragile stillness you’d felt was gone. Devoured by hunger.

Chapter Text

The room was wreckage, ribs of metal jutting like broken bones, violet light bleeding through the dust. In the center stood Evil Eye, less man than storm, his third eye blazing so bright it carved shadows across his face like scars. The air around him shimmered with heat and violence.

Okarun sagged against the far wall, blood smeared across his jaw, his turbo speed spent. He looked smaller now. Human. While the thing in front of him looked like anything but. You barely registered the pain screaming through your own body. All you saw was that glow, swallowing everything.

And you moved. A fool’s errand being the drive. You’d gotten close to calming the yokai before all this. Before he broke one of the few remaining walls in the house to get at your other friends.
It was a ridiculous notion you were hanging on to. That you could take the beast that was Evil Eye. The voice of reason in your head screaming that you could not pacify the spirit.

Yet still, you continued forward.

“Stop.”

The word tore raw from your throat, sharp enough to split the tension hanging like a blade over the room.

Evil Eye froze but only for a breath. The metal beams above Okarun vibrated, hungry for his will, and then that burning third eye turned on you. Maybe if you could draw his attention away from you friend it would give Okarun the time he needed to recharge.

The glow hit first, searing, suffocating, until it felt like standing inside the sun. It pinned you where you stood, made every bone hum like it wanted to crack open.
“…Move.”

Two syllables, soft, almost lazy. But they crawled under your skin like poison.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t. You stepped closer instead.

Your pulse was a wild drumbeat in your ears. Everything in you screamed to rum but your feet were traitors. Because you saw it. You saw that he had been lulled by your touch in that lonely room. Behind that violet blaze had been something. Curiosity, intrigue. Even if it had only been a small shared moment you had to hold onto it to give you courage.

“You’ve already won.”

Your voice came out low, shaking like glass about to break. “There’s no need for this.”
Something shifted in his stance. It was so subtle, it could’ve been a trick of the light. Then he tilted his head, slow and predatory, the curve of his mouth almost a sneer.

“That’s not how this works.” His tone was molten steel, soft enough to burn slow.

He stepped forward. One step. Two. Each one sent tremors through the ground, through your body, until the soles of your shoes vibrated. Heat rolled off him in waves, dampening your skin, filling your lungs until breathing felt dangerous.

And still, you didn’t retreat. You reached.
Fingers trembling, you pressed your palm against his chest.

The world stopped.

It was like touching fire trapped inside stone, heat pulsing, muscles coiled tight as steel cables. For a second, his breath stuttered. The third eye dimmed barely but enough to make your stomach flip.
You slid your hand higher, grazing the sharp line of his jaw. His skin burned under your fingertips but there was a tremor. A shiver he didn’t want you to feel.

“You don’t need to kill him.” Your voice was a whisper now, reckless and raw. “You don’t need to kill anyone.”

The smile that touched his mouth wasn’t human. It curved like a blade.

“You think you know what I need?”

He was close now, so close his breath skimmed your cheek, violet light painting your skin like war paint.
Your throat tightened, but you forced the words out.
“No. But I know this would hurt Jiji.”

The silence that followed felt violent. His aura spiked, wrapping the room in a chokehold of heat and power, until your vision blurred. Then slow as the pull of a tide his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he spoke, “You think I care what this vessel wants?”

The sound crawled down your spine, molten and merciless.

Every instinct screamed stop. But your hand didn’t obey. It traced the markings on his face, a prayer written in touch, daring him to let you live.
“I want to believe a part of you does.”

For one heartbeat, nothing existed but the sound of his breath. The violet glow faltered and began to dim softly, pulsing like a wound. Behind you, the metal crashed to the floor.

Okarun made a sound, a warning, half disbelief but you barely heard it. Because now Evil Eye’s fingers were on you, ghosting over your wrist, a heat so sharp it branded you.

“Nonsense.” he murmured.

And yet he didn’t let go.

His hand slid to your jaw, holding you there. Not like a captor, not like a lover. No, it was hungrier, something you didn’t have a name for.
And when his third eye locked on yours, you understood the truth with bone-deep clarity.

This wasn’t surrender.

It was a fall and you were already halfway down.
“You…” His voice dragged, rough and deliberate, like claws on stone. “You don’t get to decide what I am.”
The words crawled under your skin. You felt it building, the surge, the heat spiking off him like a sun about to go nova. He wasn’t calming down. He was winding tighter, ready to snap.

You opened your mouth, desperate for anything that could anchor him. Jiji’s name, a plea, something human but you never got the chance.

Because something hot and scalding slammed into his side with a vicious hiss.

Evil Eye growled a sound that cracked the air, that made the walls quake and the glass in the shattered windows rattle. Steam burst up like smoke, curling around the violet light as his skin seared and bubbled where the water hit.

“Back the hell off, freak!”

You jerked toward the voice just in time to see Momo standing in the doorway, chest heaving, a dented steel kettle clutched in her hands. Water dripped from the lip. Her expression wasn’t fear, it was fury, sharp and electric, her jaw set like stone.
“Touch them again, and I swear I’ll boil you alive,” she spat.

Evil Eye’s gaze snapped toward her, feral and molten. For half a breath you thought he’d lunge until another wave of heat rippled and his outline shimmered, flickering like a candle flame under a harsh wind.

“No-” His snarl fractured, voice bending on itself. His grip on you faltered, claws retracting as his body seized, convulsing with the fight inside him. “Don’t-don’t you dare-!”

The violet glow fractured, cracked and then shattered in a cascade of steam and light.
When your vision cleared, Jiji was on the floor, curled on his side, soaked and shivering, steam rolling off his skin. His breathing was ragged, his face pale and drawn like a man dragged back from the edge of something endless.

You dropped to your knees beside him without thinking, your hand hovering over his shoulder, afraid to touch, afraid not to. His lashes clung wet to his cheeks, his lips parted on shallow gasps.
Behind you, Momo lowered the kettle, eyes still locked on Jiji with a mix of anger and something softer, hidden under the burn.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low but sharp, like she wasn’t sure which answer she wanted.
You swallowed hard, staring at the boy who wasn’t a monster now but who carried the monster like a shadow inside his bones.

“I….I think so,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

And for the first time, you wondered if that was a lie you’d have to keep telling.

Chapter Text

The heat left him like smoke scattering on the wind. His knees hit the floor hard enough to jar his teeth, lungs dragging in air that tasted of ash and iron. His body was his again or at least it felt that way. No third eye burning behind his skull. No violet fire yanking his limbs like a puppet’s strings.

Just him.

But the echoes remained.

Jiji pressed a shaking hand to his chest where your palm had been. The skin there burned, not with bruises, but with memory. He could still feel it, the steady press of your touch, the sound of your voice splitting through the static, calling not only for him, but for the thing inside him.

For both.

His throat tightened.

He didn’t want to remember the way it had felt, because it hadn’t just been him. That warmth, that impossible thread of connection, Evil Eye had been there too. He remembered the tremor in his own hands, but he also remembered the hunger in that monster. And for a moment, they had been the same.

Which part of him had reached back for you?
Which part of him had wanted to?

A bitter laugh scraped out of his chest, and he buried his face in his palms. “Damn it.”

It wasn’t fair. He’d thought his feelings for you were his own, small, fragile, stupid things he could shove down and ignore. But now he couldn’t tell. Was it him who wanted to keep you close? Or was it Evil Eye, twisting his heart into something unrecognizable?

He didn’t even notice the tears pressing hot at the corners of his eyes until his fingers came away wet. His breath stuttered, sharp and uneven, as he whispered to the empty room,

“If it’s him….then what’s left of me?”

The words hung in the dark, fragile as glass. He knew no one could answer, not Okarun, not Seiko, not even you. And yet, the ghost of your voice lingered with him, stronger than the fear gnawing at his chest:

‘I’m reaching for you. Both of you.’

For the first time, Jiji wondered if he could survive what that really meant.

Chapter Text

The wrecked room still clung to you like remembering the violet glare, the heat, the sound of bones breaking. Now you sat at Granny Seiko’s low table, surrounded by the quiet hum of her cluttered house. The air smelled of green tea and antiseptic, an almost cruel contrast to the chaos you’d just crawled out of.

Jiji slept in the next room, wrapped in layers of blankets. His breath was shallow, uneven, like he’d been dragged from deep water and hadn’t found the surface yet. You kept glancing toward the sliding door, half-expecting it to rattle under the weight of something violet.

Seiko broke the silence first.

“So.” She set her teacup down with a click. Her voice was calm but there was a razor edge under it. “Anyone want to tell me why the hell my living room looks like a typhoon came through?”

Okarun leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, jaw tight. His knuckles were still raw. “Because he-” He jabbed a finger toward the closed door. “-lost it. Evil Eye came out, and….” His gaze swung to you sharply. “And you didn’t call us. You didn’t say anything.”

Your stomach clenched. Words gathered in your throat like broken glass but before you could speak, Momo cut in.

“Don’t put this all on them.” Her voice was cold steel. “They were trying to calm him down.”
“Calm him down?” Okarun’s tone was short, bitter.
“And they stopped him,” Momo shot back, eyes flashing. “If they hadn’t been there….”
“They shouldn’t have been alone!” The table rattled under Okarun’s fist. His voice cracked at the edges, anger straining to cover fear. “Do you even get how bad that could’ve gone?”

You flinched. Because yes, you knew. You could still feel his grip, the heat branding your skin, the weight of that third eye pinning you like a specimen. You could still hear the way his voice had dropped when he said,

‘You think I care what this vessel wants?’

Seiko’s sigh cut through the rising storm, her tone short and authoritative. “Enough.”

The word landed heavy. Even Okarun fell silent despite his obvious objection.

Her eyes, sharp and clouded all at once, settled on you. And for a heartbeat, you wished she’d shout. Slam her hands down. Anything but that quiet, surgical calm.

“You stayed in that room,” she said, slow and deliberate, “because you thought you could reach him.”

You swallowed hard, eyes down cast, throat raw. “Yes.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “And did you?”

The question hollowed you out. You didn’t know how to answer. Because you had seen something, flickering behind the rage like a light under deep water. You had touched him and for one heartbeat, the power had faltered. You’d almost believe that Evil Eye could be calmed.

But then his voice had curled into your ear like smoke and venom and you’d realized what kind of fire you were playing with.

Your silence said enough.

Seiko leaned back, fingers drumming the table. “You were lucky. All of you. Hot water is just a temporary fix.” Her tone shifted then, softer but heavier, like a door closing in the dark. “Evil Eye won’t just give up. Next time, don’t rely on luck or hope.”
Her words landed like stones and for a long moment, no one spoke. Just the faint tick of the clock and the wind worrying at the shutters.

Finally, Okarun pushed up from the table, his shadow slicing across the tatami. “I’ll check on Jiji.”
Momo stayed seated, arms folded, her eyes cutting toward you like she wanted to ask something but didn’t trust her voice.

When she followed Okarun out, it was just you and Seiko. The old woman poured more tea, steam curling between you like a ghost.
“Tell me something,” she said without looking up.

“When you touched him did you think he’d listen? Or were you hoping he would?”

Your chest tightened, breath catching sharp as broken glass. Because you didn’t know. And maybe that was the worst part.

Chapter Text

The house had gone mostly quiet. Jiji’s uneven breaths drifted through the paper walls, a fragile rhythm that made you ache. Seiko was in the kitchen, the sound of water running soft and distant. Okarun had stepped out for fresh air or maybe to punch the night until it stopped feeling wrong.

You sat in the dim hallway, knees pulled up, forehead resting against a cool wooden beam. The taste of metal still lingered in your mouth like fear, adrenaline and something else you didn’t want to name.

The floor creaked behind you.

“You gonna tell me what that was?”

You didn’t have to turn. Momo’s voice slid through the quiet like a blade, sharp and steady but there was something coiled underneath. Tension, maybe worry or anger pretending not to shake.

You looked over your shoulder. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the dim light catching in her eyes like embers.

“What what was?” you managed, even though the words felt paper thin.

“Don’t.” She stepped closer, slow, deliberate, until her shadow stretched long across the floor. “When you were in that room with him. You didn’t just stand there.”

Your throat tightened. “I….”

“I saw you.” Her tone wasn’t loud but it cut. “You touched him.”

You dragged your gaze away, fixing it on the tatami. “I was trying to calm him down.”

“By touching him like that?” Her voice sharpened but not in judgment, exactly but close enough to make your stomach knot. “He’s not Jiji when that thing takes over. He’s not-” She broke off, exhaling hard, raking a hand through her hair. “You could’ve died.”

“I know,” you said, though it sounded hollow even to you.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Her steps creaked closer, until she was right in front of you, arms still folded like a shield. “You looked at him like….” Her jaw tightened, cutting the words off. “What were you thinking?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out at first. What could you say? That when you looked at him, you saw something break in the fury? A flicker of Jiji buried deep and it had been enough to chain your feet to the floor? That for a second, the world had narrowed to the heat of his skin under your palm and the way his breath stuttered when you touched his jaw? That the danger hadn’t just scared you, it had burned through you, sharp and bright and wrong in a way that didn’t feel entirely wrong?
Finally, you forced the truth out, rough as gravel. “I thought I could reach him.”

Silence stretched, taut as wire.

“And?” Her voice was quieter now but not softer.
You swallowed, throat raw. “Maybe I did. For a second.”

Momo stared at you, her eyes searching like she was trying to pry the words apart and see what you weren’t saying. The air between you thickened, heavy with something that wasn’t anger anymore something more complicated, messier.

Then she shook her head, the motion sharp. “Don’t do that again. Whatever you think you saw, whatever you think you can control….don’t.” She straightened, stepping back, her shadow peeling away from yours. “He’s dangerous. That thing inside him. It doesn’t care about you. Or him. It just….doesn’t care.”

You watched her walk away, her footsteps soft but carrying weight like stones. And when the silence swallowed her, you pulled your knees tighter, pressing your face against them.

Because maybe she was right.

But your hand still remembered the heat of his skin. And that scared you more than anything.

Chapter Text

The house was too quiet after Momo left. The kind of quiet that presses against your skin and makes every breath sound too loud. You stayed there on the hallway floor for a long time, knees drawn up, head tipped back against the wall, the memory of violet light still burned behind your eyelids.
Eventually, you pushed yourself to your feet and slid the door open to check on Jiji.

The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the streetlamp bleeding through the shoji. He lay on his futon, one arm draped across his stomach, the other sprawled out like he’d collapsed there. His breathing was uneven, catching sometimes like even sleep couldn’t smooth out the weight of what had happened.

You knelt beside him, careful not to wake him and just….looked. It should’ve been easy to see him as Jiji again. Your friend, your anchor in rough times but your mind wouldn’t let go of the image from before. His body taut with power, that terrible third eye burning like a sun about to collapse.

Your fingers twitched against your thigh. You curled them into a fist before you could do something stupid, like reach for his hand.

“….You’re still here?”

The voice was hoarse, cracked at the edges. Your breath hitched. His eyes were open, hazy in the dim light but focused on you now.

“Jiji….” You swallowed, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna leave you alone after that.”
He tried to sit up, grimaced halfway and sank back with a hiss. You reached instinctively, hand brushing his shoulder to steady him. His skin burned, not fever hot but warm in a way that made your pulse stutter.

“Don’t move. You need to rest.”

He huffed a laugh that didn’t sound like a laugh at all. “Rest. After…. that? Yeah, sure.”

You stayed quiet because what could you say? The silence stretched, filled with the hum of the cicadas outside and the faint creak of the house settling.
Finally, his gaze slid to yours, sharp despite the exhaustion. “Did I….His jaw tightened, like the words hurt. “Did I hurt you?”

The question hit harder than it should’ve. You shook your head fast, maybe too fast. “No. You didn’t.”
His shoulders eased, barely, but his eyes didn’t soften. They searched your face like he was trying to read the truth in every twitch of muscle, every breath. “Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like….” He trailed off, frowning, frustration pulling his brows together. “Like you’re scared.”

You froze, heart hammering loud enough you were sure he could hear it. You weren’t sure which was worse, that he thought you were scared or that you weren’t. Not of him. Not entirely.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said and it was the truth. A dangerous truth.

His breath left him in a rough exhale, almost like relief but not quite. “You should be.”

Something twisted low in your stomach at the way he said it, quiet, almost breaking. Like a warning meant to keep you safe. Like he knew exactly what you were doing, staying this close and hated himself for it.

You opened your mouth, a dozen words burning to get out, I don’t care, I’m not leaving, I saw you in there! But they died on your tongue when his hand shifted.

Slow. Hesitant. His fingers brushed your own.
Heat sparked up your arm, sharp and dizzying. For a second you couldn’t breathe. His touch was soft, just enough to keep you there, to feel your pulse thundering under his fingertips.

“Thank you.” he murmured, eyes half-lidded now, voice low enough to almost miss. “For….trying.”
It wasn’t enough and it was too much. It left you raw and trembling in the dark.

Then his hand slipped away as sleep dragged him under, leaving your skin burning where he’d touched you.

You sat there a long time after that, staring at the shape of him in the dark, the sound of his breathing steadying. But your own? It didn’t steady at all.

Chapter Text

The alien let out a shriek as Okarun tore into it, the sound cutting like metal on glass. Its body convulsed, rupturing in a spray of dark ichor. The group staggered back to avoid the splash but Jiji was too close.

Cold.

It hit his side like a blade, seeping through his shirt, dripping down to his skin. At first it just burned like frost, a shock that made him hiss between his teeth. But then the burn dug deeper. His breath hitched.

“Jiji!” Momo shouted but it was too late.
His chest ignited, veins of violet racing across his skin. He doubled over, hands clawing at the ground, before that terrible third eye split open with a wet sound that made the air shudder.

Evil Eye’s laugh ripped out of his throat, low and feral, vibrating through the ruined street. The ichor still dripped off him, mixing with the heat now rolling off his body. Where Jiji had been trembling, the yokai stood tall.

“Filth.” Evil Eye’s voice rasped, glancing at the writhing remains of the alien before that gaze snapped toward Okarun, then you.

The rumble of his voice sent a shiver through you. You could almost feel his intent crackling in the air, it felt like a wall separating you from Momo and Okarun. The feeling vibrating faintly under the pressure of his aura.

But you didn’t move. You should’ve run. Every instinct screamed for it.

Not even when the yokai made straight for you with his unnatural speed. Kicking up dirt and dust as he slid to a stop inches from your body. His hand lashing out to grab your jaw, forcing you to look into his black eyes.

His head tilted, slow, unnatural. Amusement? No, something colder. That voice, when it came, crawled like molten metal through your veins.

“Move. Before I decide to tear you apart.”
You swallowed, throat dry. “You could. But you won’t.”

That earned a pause. A small one. Like the tick before an explosion.

“You think you know me, little insect?”

You didn’t fight him. You didn’t scream. Even if you could feel the power of his hold on you. Your brain telling you that he could easily break you.

Instead, you placed your hand over his, the one holding your face, your touch was gentle, anchoring. His skin was like heat and stone and violence coiled tight but he shuddered. Barely, almost imperceptibly but enough for your pulse to spike.

“I know you’re not just destruction,” you whispered. “You would have stopped talking to me if you were.”

The third eye flickered, its glow dimming like a breath sucked inward.

Something flickered across his expression, confusion, hesitation, something that looked almost like an ache. His grip didn’t tighten but it didn’t loosen either. The silence stretched, the glow of his third eye dimming just slightly as though it wavered with his indecision.

No one had ever touched him like this before. No one had ever dared to touch him as much as you had. He should have torn you apart, yet here you were. And for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, he found himself stalling.

You didn’t know it then but this moment would burn itself into him.

For the first time, his voice softened. Not gentle, never that but edged with something dangerous in a different way.

“Careful,” he murmured. His face dipped closer, violet light painting your skin. “You keep saying things like that….and I might start believing you.”
Your stomach dropped. Because in that moment just for a heartbeat you weren’t sure if it was a threat or a promise.

Later, when he was forced back into the cage of Jiji’s body, when rage and loneliness clawed at him, he would recall the weight of your hand over his, the softness in your voice, the way you traced his face like he was something more than a monster.

And that memory would torment him.

Because he couldn’t decide if he wanted to destroy you for daring to touch him or protect you so he’d never lose that warmth.

Chapter Text

The glow from his third eye split the dark, burning through the room with searing malice. Jiji’s voice was gone, buried somewhere beneath that cruel, reverberating thunder that belonged only to Evil Eye. His body had gone rigid under her hands, veins standing out in his neck, and you could feel the weight of his strength pressing outward as if he would tear the walls apart just to prove he could.

“You think you can chain me forever?” Evil Eye snarled, his words echoing with two voices at once. “I will crush this body, tear it open and-”

“No!” The word burst out of you before you could think. Your heart slammed in your chest. Jiji was fighting, you could feel it but he was losing ground. Panic screamed at you to back away. To run. To call for help.

Evil Eye’s head tilted, the motion sharp and slow, as that glowing eye pinned you. His power coiled like a serpent, thrashing against its leash. You should have run. Anyone else would have. Instead, you reached for him. Hand trembling, heart hammering like a drum in your throat.

And you grabbed his face.

His third eye glared at you, brilliant and merciless, the kind of thing that could level worlds. “You’re wasting your breath, girl. I’ll-“

And then you kissed him.

The world seemed to split in two. For a fraction of a heartbeat, he didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. His mind blanked white with shock, then roared back to life in a violent surge.

What is this?

Heat, soft pressure against his mouth, the faint taste of his blood? No. Yours. Why does it matter? Why does it-

Is this mockery? Pity? Or?

His aura spiked, metal shrieking overhead, walls groaning like they might collapse under the weight of his rage. His fingers shot out, closing around your right arm like an iron cuff, pulling your lips from his. It was not a motion fully tearing you away. At least not yet.

“You….” His voice was a rasp, low and dangerous, like the edge of a blade pressed to skin. The third eye flared blinding purple, his face half hidden in shadow. “Do you want to die?”

Your breath hitched but you didn’t look away. That look. He hated it. Calm where there should be fear. Warm where there should be nothing. It made something inside him snarl.

“You think,” he hissed, voice trembling with something he couldn’t name, “you can just touch me? Claim me?”

The word burned in his mouth but so did the memory of your lips. His grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened as he dragged you suddenly closer until your pulse thudded against his palm. His breath shuddered against your cheek, hot and uneven.

He could kill you now. He should. One thought, and your body would break like glass. The idea flickered, bright, sharp. Then faltered.

When he saw your eyes. Wide, unflinching, and full of something he couldn’t choke down.

Why aren’t you afraid? Why did he want you to stay?

For the first time since his awakening, silence crawled through his head. Not the suffocating silence of rage. This was so much worse. Softer. Dangerous in a way he didn’t know how to fight.
Slowly, his voice dropped to a whisper that curled like smoke against your ear.

“Never do that again,” he breathed, each word trembling between a warning and a plea. His hand slid from up your arm to your jaw, thumb brushing your skin as if memorizing it, his power sparking faintly in response. “Unless you’re ready to face what it makes me feel.”

The third eye pulsed once, twice then its glow dimmed just enough to let the shadows breathe. His hand stayed, though. Unyielding. And for the first time, he wondered if this wasn’t a battle at all but a surrender he hadn’t meant to give.

The warning still hung in the air though, curling like smoke between you. His hand didn’t move. It stayed cupping your jaw, the weight of his fingers almost reverent if reverence could feel like a threat.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your pulse thundered too loud in your ears, drowning out every rational thought. All you could hear was the shallow rasp of his breath and the faint, electric hum radiating from his body, crawling over your skin like static.
Then, slowly, too slowly, his thumb brushed against your lower lip.

His own motion shattered something inside him. A crack deep in the armor he’d built, a fissure letting in light and heat. Need. Not for power. Not for blood. For this insanity. This was a closeness that he didn’t understand but couldn’t pull away from.
His eyes were full of silent questions. Why didn’t you flinch? Why didn’t you fear him like everyone else?
Why does this feel wrong?

Because it should feel wrong. Yet his chest burned like he’d swallowed the sun and the thought of letting you go scraped like broken glass across his bones.

“I should kill you,” he murmured, voice low, vibrating with something sharp and heavy. His breath ghosted over your lips, as he leaned forward. The words tasted like venom and confession all at once. “I should end this now.”

But his hand slid to the back of your neck instead, holding you still. It wasn’t cruel like the first time he had ever touched you but firm enough to remind you who he was. His aura flared with that touch, violet light spilling across your face, painting you in his chaos.

“Say it,” he whispered, so close his lashes nearly brushed yours. The words curled like fire down your spine. “Say why you did that.”

You swallowed hard, forcing the answer past the storm in your chest. “Because…” Your voice faltered, then steadied like a blade drawn slow from its sheath. “Because I wanted you to stop. And you listened.” You hand raised to find purchase against the skin of his collar bone. Like just touching him could ground you somehow.

You hesitated, the next words catching like a secret you weren’t supposed to speak. “Because I wanted you to know you’re more than this.”

It sounded stupid when you said it out loud. Like some silly line you’d hear in a romance novel. A line that lacks weight. It felt like such a feeble thing to say.

However you heard his breath hitch. Just slightly. But enough for you to also feel it against your skin.
Like your words had stuck in his throat. More than this?

The phrase tore through him like glass through silk, leaving edges he couldn’t fit back together. His jaw clenched, the muscles twitching beneath your touch.

He wanted to laugh. To crush that hope and watch it bleed out. But when he looked at you and saw the raw, reckless truth in your eyes. Any cutting words he wanted to spill forth died in his throat.

Instead, something else took root. Something small, sharp. Terrifying.

He leaned in, not with violence, but with the slow inevitability of a tide pulling you under. His lips hovered over yours, close enough for your breaths to tangle, his voice breaking like the crack of distant thunder.

“Don’t make me want this.”

And for the first time, Evil Eye realized he wasn’t giving an order. He was begging.

Chapter Text

The temple ruins still smoldered, the scent of scorched wood clinging to every breath. Shards of shattered statues crunched underfoot as you stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the dim violet glow bleeding from the far corner.

He was there. Evil Eye. Sitting against a broken pillar like a god fallen from his throne.

Blood slicked his jaw, trailing down the curve of his throat before vanishing beneath the torn collar of his shirt. His third eye glowed faintly, the light pulsing slow and uneven, like a failing heartbeat.
For the first time since you’d met him, he looked…tired.

You swallowed the knot in your throat and crouched in front of him, ignoring the way the air buzzed with residual power. He didn’t look at you at first. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, his expression carved in fury and something else you couldn’t name.
“You’re bleeding,” you said softly.

A humorless laugh scraped out of him. “So I am.” His voice was low, hoarse, a rasp that made your chest tighten for reasons you didn’t want to examine. “What will you do? Save me?” His eyes, two human, one unholy, lifted to yours then, sharp enough to cut. “Like you tried before?”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t flinch. “Someone has to.”

For a long moment, silence. Just the crackle of embers and the slow drip of water from the ruined ceiling. Then, in one fluid motion, he caught your wrist.

Not hard. Not like before.

The pressure was warm this time. Almost… tentative.

“You’re a fool.” The words rolled out in a whisper that didn’t sound like hate. His gaze flickered, down to your lips, then back up. The pulse of that third eye brightened, faint but steady now.
Your heart stumbled.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t flinch. Even with the heat rolling off him like a furnace, even with raw, lethal power humming at your feet.

Evil Eye had thrown every threat at you already. He snarled at you so often that his words felt almost hollow now, like a feral cat pretending it hadn’t grown used to your presence.

“Maybe,” you breathed, your free hand daring to brush a streak of blood from his jaw. His skin was hot, fever-hot, like touching the heart of a storm. “But if caring makes me a fool, then I guess I am.”

Something fractured in his expression, too quick to name but enough to hollow the air between you. His grip loosened, thumb tracing over your pulse like he couldn’t decide whether to crush it or memorize it.
Why? Why would you care? After everything he’d done. After what he’d almost done to you again and again.

The thought snarled through his head, instincts screaming to crush this softness before it undid him completely. His hand shot up, fast as lightning, clamping around your wrist. Hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to stop you.

Except you didn’t stop. You tilted your chin up instead, eyes steady on his, unblinking against the violet blaze.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” you whispered. And that quiet broke him more than any scream ever could.

The world tilted, shoving him into a space he didn’t recognize. Where hunger to destroy tangled with something sharper, needier. Where the heat in his veins burned for something other than blood.

Why. Couldn’t he. Let go?

His breath stalled. His chest ached like something inside was tearing open. And then, before the thought could catch up, before reason could drag him back-

He leaned in.

Slow. Deliberate. Like a predator closing on prey. Except his eyes…they burned with something else now. Something dangerously close to hunger but not for blood.

Your breath tangled with his as the world narrowed to the space between your mouths. One heartbeat. Two.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, unpracticed. A collision of teeth and breath and fevered heat, like a man drowning who just realized what air tastes like. His hand slid from your wrist to your jaw, dragging you closer until no space remained, until the hum of his aura spilled between your mouths like static fire.

For a heartbeat, there was no battlefield. No blood. No vengeance.

Just this. Your pulse against his palm. Your breath searing his lips. And a single thought spiraling like a curse.

And then-

He stopped.

Not because he didn’t want to. Because wanting scared him more than anything else. His voice broke the silence, low and raw.

“What have you done to me?”

Chapter Text

Maybe Evil Eye wanted one last fit before finally settling down. Honestly, the smoldering wreck of Grandma Seiko’s home would have been enough of a final hurrah for anyone, human or yokai.

Evil Eye had gotten his fight, but thanks to Okarun’s mental gymnastics he’d been tricked into only showing up on Tuesdays.

It was funny, truly. But what was even more absurd was the thought that you might miss the yokai’s destructive appearances.

You caught yourself staring as something you had denied started to dawn on you. You couldn’t separate them.

Anyone would have scolded you for such a thought but the more you looked the harder it was to deny how you felt about the possessed boy and his Yokai counterpart.

The curve of his mouth was Jiji’s. You’d seen it a hundred times, twitching when he tried not to laugh at something dumb you said. But the sharpness in his eyes? That wasn’t Jiji. That was the yokai, piercing, endless, terrifying in ways you should have run from.

And yet….they looked the same.

You hated yourself for realizing it but when his gaze softened for just a breath, you couldn’t tell whose it was.

Your chest clenched. You wanted to reach out, to touch him but your hand stalled halfway like it didn’t know who it was reaching for. Jiji, who never believed in himself? Or Evil Eye, who looked at you like he couldn’t believe you existed?

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe there wasn’t a difference.

You blinked hard, willing the thought away. Dangerous. Stupid. You couldn’t afford to blur the line, not when his next breath could belong to the boy you cared for or the monster who swore to destroy you.

Except….maybe the line had never been as sharp as you told yourself it was.

Your body moved before fear could stop it. One step, then another. Okarun stayed close to Evil Eye, having beaten him down and wrung from him a promise not to destroy everything on sight. It was as if the storm had finally broken.

Your eyes stayed fixed on Evil Eye, half-debating what you should say. It felt reasonable to say something. You and Okarun had done more than your fair share of corralling the wild yokai.

If Okarun could strike a deal with him, then you would too. For Jiji.

“You know, I haven’t just been talking to you,” you said. Your voice no longer trembled as it once had, but carried steady, firm. “I’m talking to both of you.”
Evil Eye’s smirk faltered, only by a fraction. His third eye blazed brighter, as if to cover it. “Fool. You think the boy hears you when I stand before you? He’s nothing but a vessel.”

You shook your head. “You’re wrong. I’ve seen him in you. I’ve felt him. And even now, I feel him.”
Reckless as ever, your hand rose and pressed against his chest. Heat surged beneath your palm, like touching a furnace barely caged in stone. His breath caught for half a beat, and you pushed harder.

“Jiji, if you’re in there….I’m reaching for you.” Your gaze locked on his. “And I’m reaching for you too,” you whispered to the monster, voice wild with dangerous honesty. “Because whether you like it or not, you’re a part of him.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“Pathetic.” Evil Eye spat at last, but his voice lacked its usual venom. It cracked faintly, like glass under too much strain. “You think you can hold both flame and ash in your hand without burning?”

“Maybe I will burn.” Your hand slid up, tracing the line of his jaw, steady despite the sting of heat. “But I’m still not letting go.”

The third eye flickered, dimming, violet fire thinning like a storm losing its violence. For a heartbeat his expression wasn’t monster or boy, but something in between, raw and unguarded.

Then he tore away with a snarl, the air shattering with heat. But not before you saw it: that moment. The fracture. The place where Jiji bled through.

Chapter Text

The house was silent when you slipped down the hall, bare feet whispering against the old floorboards. Everyone else had gone to bed after one of Seiko’s lectures and Momo’s brittle silence, but you couldn’t. Not with your pulse still spiking every time you closed your eyes, not with the heat of that moment burned into your skin like a brand.

The door to Jiji’s room was half closed. A soft light glowed inside, faint as a heartbeat. You hesitated, hand hovering over the frame, telling yourself you just wanted to check on him. To make sure he was okay. That was all.

But when you pushed the door open, breath lodged in your throat.

Jiji sat on the edge of his futon, hunched forward, hair damp and clinging to his temples from a shower Seiko had forced on him. His shirt was loose, hanging off one shoulder and for a second, he looked small again, just Jiji, your friend.
Then he lifted his head.

The look in his eyes made the floor tilt beneath you. Not glowing, not monstrous but something lingered there, a shadow of violet, a weight that didn’t belong. His voice when he spoke was low, rough, scraped raw like he’d swallowed glass.
“You probably shouldn’t be here.”

You swallowed, fingers curling tight around the doorframe. “I just….wanted to see if you’re okay.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He laughed but it was hollow, broken in the middle. “Okay? After that? After-” His hands clenched, nails digging crescents into his palms. “I could’ve killed you.”

You stepped inside before you could stop yourself, closing the door behind you with a soft click. “But you didn’t.”

“Don’t,” he bit out, sharper this time. He stood, sudden enough that the air seemed to crackle. He wasn’t towering over you, Jiji never did, but right now, the space between you felt paper thin and dangerous. His breath came fast, shoulders rigid like he was holding something back by sheer force of will.

And then, softer, “You touched him.”
Your heart stuttered. “I was trying to reach you-”

“That wasn’t me.” His voice dropped to something almost inaudible but you heard every word like a blade pressed to skin. “You think it was me but it wasn’t. He wanted-” He broke off, teeth sinking into his lip hard enough to draw blood.

You should’ve stepped back. You didn’t. You moved closer instead, until his breath skimmed your cheek and the faint, metallic tang of blood hung between you.

“Jiji….” His name left your mouth like a plea, though you weren’t sure for what.
And then it happened.

No warning, no hesitation, just the sudden crush of heat and pressure as his mouth found yours. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even a question. It was teeth and heat and something wild, something that tasted like defiance and despair all tangled together.

Your hands shot up, catching his shoulders, half to steady yourself, half to push him away but you didn’t push. You couldn’t. Because the sound he made when your fingers tightened, low, rough, almost a growl, pinned you in place like gravity.

The kiss broke as violently as it began, leaving you breathless, your lips tingling like they’d been burned. He didn’t move closer, just far enough to press his forehead to yours, breath coming in harsh, uneven pulls.

“I shouldn’t….” His voice cracked. “I don’t even know if this is me or him anymore.”

You closed your eyes, the weight of his words sinking like stones. Because deep down, you weren’t sure either.

But when his hands curled at your waist, trembling with restraint and his breath ghosted against your mouth like a question he wasn’t ready to ask, you knew one thing for certain.

Whatever line had existed between you and him, it was gone. And neither of you could pretend otherwise.

But Jiji still pushed you away. Not rough but enough for you to step back. It was clear he needed space. Like something internal was breaking in him and you would only make it worse.

Guilt clawed at your chest. Even if you should have felt elated over the kiss. You knew it hadn’t come from somewhere romantic. As Jiji had said he wasn’t sure if his feelings of affection for you were his or Evil Eye’s.

Pressing the matter would only open up a wound you weren’t sure you knew how to fix. But you had started this. You couldn’t deny that and if anyone asked you would take responsibility for it all.

This had all been thrown into motion from you. From the first night you work up to glowing purple eyes.

Slowly you turned to leave, deciding that you would only make the silent torment Jiji found himself confused by worse.

Chapter Text

The house had settled into uneasy silence, every groan of wood and whisper of wind louder than it should’ve been. Jiji padded barefoot down the hall, hoodie half-zipped, hands stuffed deep into the pocket to hide their tremor. He couldn’t sleep, not with his chest still aching like it carried someone else’s heartbeat.

He just needed air. Space. Somewhere without your voice echoing in his head.

But when he turned the corner, he nearly collided with you.

You froze, clutching a blanket around your shoulders, eyes wide in the dim light spilling from the kitchen. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt tight, drawn like a wire pulled too far.

“You should be resting….” you said finally, voice soft but steady.

Jiji looked away, jaw tight. “Couldn’t.” His voice came out rough, as though scraped raw by something he couldn’t name.

You stepped closer before he could retreat. He felt it again, that dangerous pull, like gravity bending him off course. His body tensed, ready to bolt but his feet wouldn’t obey.

“Earlier….” you began, the hesitation clear. “When I reached for him, I wasn’t just reaching for Evil Eye. I was reaching for you too. I need you to know that.”

Jiji’s chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. He swallowed hard, words tangling like barbed wire in his throat. “Don’t-” His voice cracked, and he had to force it again, quieter this time. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”

His eyes snapped to yours, pupils blown wide, shadows clinging to his expression. “Because I don’t know if it was me who felt it. Or if it was him.”
The confession came out like a wound torn open.
Silence wrapped around you both. You didn’t flinch, didn’t step back, though he half expected you to. Instead, your gaze held steady, steady enough that it made something inside him unravel.

You whispered, “Maybe it doesn’t matter which part reached back….as long as it was you.”

The words hit harder than any blow he’d taken. For a second, Jiji thought he might actually fall forward into you just to keep standing. His lips parted but no answer came.

All he could do was stand there, raw and shaking, caught between wanting to run and wanting to stay pressed in this fragile orbit around you.

The silence stretched taut between you, neither of you daring to move. Jiji’s breath came shallow, ragged, like he was trying to outrun the weight pressing down on his chest.
And then it happened.

A pulse, faint but undeniable, throbbed behind his eyes. Not the full searing blaze of Evil Eye’s presence but something subtler. A whisper, brushing the edges of his thoughts.

‘Closer.’

Jiji stiffened. He could feel it, feel him, slipping threads of want through his nerves. His hands clenched deep in the fabric of his hoodie as if that alone could anchor him.

Your hand twitched against the blanket, like you might reach for him. And God, he wanted you to. He wanted it so badly his knees nearly buckled.

“Don’t.” he rasped, voice low, shaking.

“Don’t what?” you whispered back, eyes searching his.

He swallowed hard, his throat bone dry. “Don’t….make me forget which one of us wants this.”

The words hung heavy in the dim hallway, raw and broken. But still, he leaned closer. Just enough that he could feel your warmth bleeding through the thin air between you, your breath mingling with his.
‘She doesn’t care.’ the whisper curled again inside his head, deeper this time, resonant. ‘She reached for us. She belongs to us.’

Jiji’s heart slammed so hard it hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish it. “Stop-“ he muttered, unsure if he was begging Evil Eye, you or himself.
And still, his forehead almost brushed yours, his lips trembling on the verge of a kiss that felt like stepping into fire.

Then, with a strangled breath, he yanked himself back. His back hit the wall with a dull thud, hoodie hood shadowing his eyes.

“I can’t-“ he choked out, voice cracking. “Not if I don’t know if it’s me or him.”

The space between you burned, charged with all that almost was.

Chapter Text

The words hung in the air, me or him, like a knife suspended over the both of you. You felt the ache in them, the tremor in his voice that didn’t belong to someone possessed but to Jiji.

Slowly, carefully, you stepped closer again. He didn’t flinch this time, though his fists trembled at his sides.

“Then let’s figure it out,” you whispered.
His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and raw, like you’d just said the one thing he’d never expected to hear.

“I don’t care if it’s messy or complicated or if he’s there in the background sometimes,” you continued, the words shaking out of you were fragile but true. “Because when I reach out, I’m not just reaching for you or Evil Eye. I’m reaching for you. All of you. And you’re worth the risk.”

For a moment, silence swallowed everything, the house, the shadows, the distant drip of rain outside. Only his breathing filled the space between you, rough and uneven.

‘She belongs to us.’, that low, velvet voice hummed again, curling at the edge of your consciousness this time.

Jiji shuddered. His lips parted, like he wanted to argue, to warn you again but nothing came out.
So you did the reckless thing. The brave thing.
Your fingers brushed against his hand, tentative but steady. “Even if he’s in there,” you said softly, “I’ll still find you.”

The touch lit something in his chest, fear, hunger, relief. Maybe all three. His head tipped forward, just a fraction, like gravity was pulling him to you despite every warning screaming in his skull.

The air between you and Jiji was so fragile it felt like one breath would shatter it. His hand moved to your cheek and lingered, calloused fingers trembling as though he was afraid to touch and afraid not to. His eyes, soft brown, steady, searched your face but the faint violet ring bleeding at their edges made your chest tighten.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured. His voice was low, unsteady, every syllable threaded with hesitation.

You didn’t look away. Couldn’t. The closeness was dangerous, reckless but you reached anyway, brushing your fingertips against his wrist where it rested against your face. Heat jumped under your touch, like a live current sparking to life.

He leaned in, just slightly, his breath ghosting across your skin. Your heart was a drum in your chest, wild and unrelenting. The moment stretched, aching, endless, as if the whole world was waiting for him to decide.

And then-

“Claim them.”

The voice wasn’t Jiji’s. It rumbled low, deep, vibrating in your bones. Evil Eye. The sound coiled between you like smoke, dangerous and hungry. Jiji flinched as though struck, his lips halting a hair’s breadth from yours.

His eyes widened, panic flashing behind the violet gleam. “No-” The word was strangled, sharp with denial. He tore his hand from your face, stumbling back as though burned.

You reached for him but he was already shaking his head, backing toward the door.

“I don’t….I don’t know if that’s me,” he rasped, voice breaking on the last word. His gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer, tormented, desperate, before he turned and slipped into the shadows of the hall.

The silence that followed pressed down like a weight. And in your chest, two truths collided. Jiji wanted you. Evil Eye wanted you. And Jiji no longer knew which desire was his own.

Chapter Text

The night pressed soft against the porch, crickets humming their endless chorus. You hugged your knees to your chest, chin balanced on the curve, watching the last curl of steam rise from your tea. Inside, the laughter from Okarun’s dumb story had died down, replaced by the clink of dishes being put away.

You had slipped out here to breathe. To stop feeling the wall Jiji had built between you.

The door creaked, wood whispering. You looked over, startled, only to find Momo stepping out with two soda cans in hand. She nudged one toward you without a word.

“Thought you might be hiding out here.” Her voice was casual but her eyes…her eyes saw too much.
You accepted the drink, cold beading against your palm. “I wasn’t hiding. Just needed air.”

Momo sat beside you, legs swinging lightly over the step. She didn’t press, just cracked her can open and took a sip, letting the fizz pop into the night. For a long moment, the two of you simply sat quietly.
Finally, she tilted her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “It’s about Jiji, isn’t it?”

The words landed like a stone in your chest. You looked away, fingers tightening around the can. “He won’t even look at me, Momo.”

Momo’s smile faded, replaced by something gentler. “He’s…complicated right now. More than anyone realizes. Especially with Evil Eye. But that doesn’t mean you did something wrong.”

You wanted to believe her but the guilt gnawed at you anyway. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I like him but…when Evil Eye is there, it’s different. He looks at me like…”

Your voice faltered, shame burning the back of your throat. “Like I matter to him. And part of me-” You swallowed, hating the tremor in your voice. “-part of me doesn’t mind it.”

Momo was quiet. Not judging, not recoiling. Just, listening. Finally, she set her soda down and leaned forward toward you, resting her chin in her hand.
“You know, Okarun once said something really dumb but kinda true. That feelings don’t always fit in the neat little boxes we want them to. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s scary.”

Your throat tightened. “So what do I do?”

Momo reached out and squeezed your hand. Warm. Steady. “Be honest. With yourself first, and then with Jiji. He deserves to hear how you feel, even the parts that scare you. And…”

She hesitated, glancing up at the stars before meeting your gaze again. “…don’t carry the guilt like it’s your burden alone. This isn’t just on you. Jiji and Evil Eye, they’re both part of this too. You’re not stealing Jiji away from himself just because Evil Eye notices you.”

Something in you cracked, relief or maybe it get like the smallest permission to stop hating yourself for it. You blinked hard, grateful for the dark hiding your expression.

Momo just gave your hand another squeeze before leaning back, her voice lighter. “Besides, you’re tougher than you think. If anyone can handle a guy with…uh, baggage, it’s you.”

You laughed, quiet, broken but real. And for the first time in days, the knot in your chest loosened.

Chapter Text

From inside, the clatter of dishes had slowed. Voices drifted faintly through the open window, Okarun humming some off key tune, Seiko muttering at him to wash properly. But near the hallway, where the light from the kitchen didn’t quite reach, Jiji stood frozen.

He hadn’t meant to listen. He had just been heading for the porch door, an excuse ready about needing fresh air, when your voice had cut through the night. Low, tight with something he hadn’t heard from you before.

“…when Evil Eye is there, it’s different. He looks at me like…like I matter to him. And part of me, part of me doesn’t mind it.”

Jiji’s chest went cold. Too cold. He braced a hand against the wall, breath coming sharp through his teeth as if the words themselves had summoned frost.

Momo’s reply was too soft for him to catch all of it, but he heard enough.

“…don’t carry the guilt…not just you. Jiji and Evil Eye, they’re both part of this, too.”
The world tilted.

Jiji’s fingers curled into his palm until his nails bit skin. He wanted to believe you were only confused. That what you wanted, what you chose, was him. Just him. But the sound of your voice, that guilty tremor, played over and over in his head until he wasn’t sure where he ended and Evil Eye began.

Did you smile at him because it was him you saw or because Evil Eye lingered in his shadow?
Did you want his hand, his warmth, his voice…or was it the thrill of touching danger?

The questions burrowed deep, sharp enough to make his throat ache. He stepped back before Momo or you could see him through the window. His sock brushed the tatami with barely a whisper and still it sounded too loud to his ears.

By the time Momo laughed, her voice lighter and your soft laugh answered hers, Jiji was already further down the hallway, retreating. Shoulders tense, fists shoved deep into his pockets, eyes trained on the floor as if looking up might break him.

He didn’t realize until he shut himself into the guest room that he was shaking.

And worse, he couldn’t tell if the tremor running through him belonged to his fear…or to who inside, purring low with something disturbingly close to satisfaction.

Chapter Text

The house had gone quiet, save for the hum of cicadas pressing through the night air. Everyone else was asleep or at least pretending to be. You weren’t. Not with Jiji’s silence still echoing in your chest like a bruise.

You stopped outside the guest room door, your knuckles hovering. The longer you hesitated, the louder your heartbeat got, until the sound of it drowned out every doubt. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you slid the door open.

The lamp inside cast the room in amber shadows. Jiji sat on the futon with his back against the wall, hair mussed from running his hands through it too many times. He looked up, startled, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to find him awake.

“…You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, voice low and rough. His eyes dropped away quickly.
“Then tell me why you’ve been avoiding me,” you said, sharper than you meant. The words came fast, like they’d been waiting days to escape. “Because I know that’s what you’re doing.”

Jiji pressed his lips into a line. “It’s better this way.”
“Better for who?” You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. Your pulse was hammering but you held your ground. “Because it doesn’t feel better for me. You won’t even look at me anymore, Jiji. If I did something wrong, tell me. Don’t just….don’t just disappear when I’m standing right in front of you.”
His breath hitched, just barely. He dragged a hand down his face, shoulders rigid.

“You don’t understand. I don’t even know if what I feel is really mine.”

The words cracked something open in the air.
Jiji’s voice rose, harsh with the strain of holding it all back,

“Every time I’m close to you, I wonder. Am I the one who wants this? Or is it him? That thing inside me, whispering, twisting everything until I can’t tell if it’s me reaching for you or if I’m just his vessel. And you-” His voice broke. “You talk like you don’t mind him. Like part of you wants him too. So how am I supposed to, how do I even know?”

The silence after rang heavy. His fists clenched against his knees, trembling.
You swallowed, throat tight but your voice was steady when you finally spoke.

“Then stop deciding for me. Stop assuming how I feel.”

His eyes snapped to yours, wide and startled.
“If you’re scared, say that. If you don’t trust yourself, say that. But don’t shut me out like I don’t get a say in this. You’re Jiji. You. And I know the difference. I know when it’s you.”

The words hung between you, fierce and trembling. You hadn’t realized how much truth burned in them until they were already out.

Jiji’s breath rattled, like he’d been holding it for days. Your words cut through his walls, leaving him raw, exposed. For a long moment, he just stared at you, fists trembling against his knees.

Then he whispered, almost like it hurt to admit,

“…I do want you.”

His voice cracked, the admission tumbling out like broken glass. He looked away, biting hard into his lip. “I’ve wanted to say it since….since before all of this. But every time I get close, I hear him. I feel him. And I don’t know if it’s me who wants you-”

His hand pressed against his chest, fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt like he could dig Evil Eye out. His eyes squeezed shut.

“Or if it’s me.”

The second voice slithered into the room like smoke, low and resonant, curling at the edge of Jiji’s words. His shoulders jerked as if struck. He swallowed hard, choking on the sound.

Your heart lurched. For a second you couldn’t tell if he was speaking or if the yokai had truly forced its way through. Maybe it was both.

Jiji gasped, shaking his head. “Do you see? He’s in me even when I try to tell the truth. He-he wants you too. And I don’t know where he ends and I begin anymore.”

His chest heaved, every breath heavy with conflict. The glow of that cursed eye threatened to flicker behind his lashes but it didn’t open. Not fully. It was like Evil Eye was listening. Waiting.

You stepped closer, pulse unsteady but your voice firm.

“Then let me decide who I’m standing in front of right now. Because I see you, Jiji. I always see you.”
His eyes snapped to yours, raw and shining, the fight in him trembling on the edge of breaking. For a heartbeat, there was no mask, no dodge. Just the boy you knew, frightened, aching but finally letting himself feel.

“.…I’m scared,” he admitted, the words spilling out like blood from a wound. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I-” His throat tightened. “I love you.”

The confession hung heavy, a fragile thing, made even more dangerous by the echo that rolled after it, guttural and possessive, bleeding through his voice like a second heartbeat,

“Mine.”

The room seemed to shudder with the weight of it. Jiji doubled over, clutching his head, as though the words hadn’t been spoken by him at all.

And yet when he looked back at you, it was his eyes you saw, wide, desperate, terrified you’d run.

The word Mine still echoed through the room, low and dangerous, and Jiji’s body shook as if he were fighting something only he could feel. His fists curled in his hair, teeth gritted, eyes wet with fear.
You didn’t think. You moved.

Before he could flinch away, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you with a force that left no room for escape. His breath caught sharp against your shoulder, rigid at first but you only tightened your hold, grounding him with the weight of your presence.

“Lean on me,” you whispered, the words warm against his ear. “Please.”

Slowly, achingly, his body obeyed. The tension bled out of him in uneven bursts, his forehead dropping against your collarbone, breath shuddering out like a dam breaking. He was trembling still but not from fear alone. There was something in the way he clutched the back of your shirt, knuckles white, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

And then it came, faint, almost imperceptible, like a ripple through the air. That other presence. Evil Eye.
The third eye did not flare open but you felt it. A pulse beneath your skin where Jiji touched you, a heat curling low, restless, then softening. Not gone, never gone but lulled. Quiet.

Jiji shivered and you weren’t sure if it was him or the yokai inside him reacting. Maybe both. But for once, instead of pushing away, he melted into you. His weight folded into yours, his cheek pressed to the side of your neck. His breathing slowed, still uneven but steadier with every heartbeat.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” His voice cracked, muffled against your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, fingers threading into his hair, steady and firm.

“Because you’re not just him. And he’s not just you. You’re Jiji. You’re still here. And I’m not letting you go.”

For a long time, there was only the sound of his breathing, shaky but calming, the warmth of his body finally resting into yours. And beneath it, almost like a sigh against your bones, the strange, wordless hum of Evil Eye. No rage, no demand. Just a quiet, dangerous kind of peace.

For the first time, it felt like all three of you were suspended in the same fragile stillness. Jiji, you, and the yokai watching through the cracks of his heart.

Chapter Text

The storm of last night had faded into something gentler. Jiji’s breathing evened against your chest, your arm still wrapped loosely around his back. The weight of him was warm and grounding and though the futon wasn’t made for two, somehow it didn’t matter. You’d both shifted through the night, finding the shape of comfort in one another until sleep claimed you fully.

Morning light stretched thin through the curtains, brushing the edges of the room in gold. Outside the door, hesitant footsteps creaked.

Okarun raised a hand, ready to knock but froze the moment he pushed the sliding door just enough to peek inside. His eyes went wide.

Jiji and you were tangled together, fast asleep, the kind of closeness that spoke louder than words. Jiji’s face was soft in a way Okarun had never seen, his head tilted slightly against yours, lips parted in unguarded rest.

Okarun’s ears went pink. He opened his mouth, shut it, then frowned as if debating between announcing himself or backing away slowly.

That’s when Momo’s voice piped up behind him.
“Okarun? What are you-“
She leaned past him, eyes narrowing suspiciously, until the scene came into view. Her expression froze. Then shifted.

“…Eh?”

The sound was too loud, sharp enough to make Okarun panic and slap a hand gently over her mouth. “Shhh!” he hissed.

Momo pried his hand off, whispering now, though her wide eyed stare stayed fixed on the two of you.

“Are they sleeping? Like that?”
Okarun rubbed the back of his neck, awkward. “Uh…yeah. I think so. Should we…wake them?”
Momo crossed her arms, lips pursed like she was trying not to smile or maybe trying very hard to laugh.

“…Or,” she said slowly, “we could let them sleep and see how red Jiji’s face gets when he realizes later.”
Okarun gave her a look, half exasperation, half amusement. But he didn’t move to wake you. Not yet.

For now, the two of you looked peaceful, untouched by curses or yokai or any of the mess that haunted your days. Just warmth, closeness, and the kind of quiet that made both Momo and Okarun hesitate to disturb it.

Chapter Text

The pale light of early morning filtered weakly through the curtains, dust motes drifting in its glow. The house was quiet, too quiet for this group. Normally full of clattering bowls and bickering voices.

You stirred slowly, the world fuzzed at the edges with sleep and it took a moment to realize the warmth under your cheek wasn’t a pillow.
It was Jiji.

You froze, breath catching. His arm was curled loosely around you, his hand resting against your back in a way that felt both protective and accidental. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, each exhale brushing soft against your hair.

It was like déjà vu. Waking up so close to Jiji again. Though thankfully it lacked the stresses of the first night you had ever worked up to that amethyst eye.

He must’ve been exhausted from last night. He’d been shaking after everything, after Evil Eye, after the fight. Maybe he shook in exhaustion or excitement. After all, things were going to change with Evil Eye now.

You’d only meant to sit with him until the trembling stopped. To reassure him that he wasn’t alone. That everything would be ok, now that Okuran had made that deal with Evil Eye.

Somehow, somewhere in that fragile quiet, sleep had pulled you both under.

You tilted your head carefully, eyes flicking up to his face. He looked younger in sleep. Less haunted. His mouth, usually pressed into a nervous line, had softened. His lashes lay dark against his skin, hiding the weight he always carried in his gaze.

A pang tugged at your chest. You didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the fragile peace of this moment.

Then, with a soft groan, Jiji stirred. His brows pinched as he blinked awake, confusion flashing first, then realization. His arm jerked slightly as if to pull back but you caught his sleeve before he could.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice hushed in the morning stillness. “It’s okay. Don’t-don’t freak out.”

Color rushed to his cheeks, his eyes darting anywhere but you. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to-uh-I must’ve just-”

“You were tired,” you said gently, offering a small smile. “That’s all.”

He swallowed hard, still tense. “Yeah. But…I shouldn’t…” His words trailed off, his throat working as if the rest was too tangled to voice.

You shifted just slightly, resting your cheek against his shoulder this time, softer, intentional. “It helped me sleep too. So maybe don’t apologize.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was thick with something unspoken but not unwelcome. Jiji exhaled slowly, his body easing back into the futon. After a moment’s hesitation, his arm settled back around you, gentler this time, like a choice instead of accident.

Neither of you said the words dancing just beneath the surface. That maybe this was more than comfort. That maybe it had always been headed here.

For now, it was enough to let the morning light warm the room and pretend the world outside didn’t exist.

Chapter Text

By the time everyone was gathered around the table, you and Jiji had slipped into your seats like nothing unusual had happened. Or at least, you tried to. Jiji hadn’t looked at you once, cheeks faintly pink as he picked at his rice like it might hold the secrets of the universe.

The air was almost normal, until Momo leaned forward with a sly grin, chopsticks tapping against her bowl.

“So…” she began, her voice light but loaded, “did you two sleep well?”

You nearly choked on your tea. Jiji’s chopsticks froze midair.

“W-what?!” His voice cracked, louder than he intended, drawing everyone’s attention.
Momo widened her eyes in mock innocence. “What? I’m just asking. Okarun said you both looked very comfortable this morning.”

Okarun immediately choked on his own rice, coughing into his hand. “M-Momo!” His face was red to the tips of his ears. “I didn’t-! Don’t drag me into this!”

“Comfortable?” Seiko raised an eyebrow from across the table, clearly entertained. “What’s this about?”
Momo leaned her chin into her hand, absolutely beaming now. “Oh, nothing much. Just that our dear Jiji and (y/n) were all snuggled up on the futon, like a pair of lovebirds.”

The chopsticks clattered out of Jiji’s hand. His entire face went scarlet.

“T-that’s-! That’s not-! It’s not what it sounds like!”

Momo clicked her tongue teasingly. “Mm, sure, sure. You just happened to wrap your arms around each other and sleep through the whole night.”

“Y-you don’t understand! It was-” Jiji stammered, looking from Momo to Okarun to you, who were now just as red as he was. “It wasn’t like that!”

Seiko gave a small chuckle, sipping her tea. “Ah, young love. It does make the mornings brighter, doesn’t it?”

Jiji groaned into his hands, half wishing the floor would swallow him whole. Momo, on the other hand, looked far too pleased with herself, her laughter filling the room like sunlight.

Chapter Text

The house was quiet. The others were asleep, their exhaustion thick in the air but you couldn’t rest. Not after everything. You sat on the porch, legs tucked against your chest, watching moths spiral into the halo of the porch light.

And then the air shifted. The familiar prickle of energy ghosted down your spine, and you didn’t need to look up to know.

“Why are you awake?” His voice came first, low and reverberating, carrying that unnerving echo that belonged to something not entirely human.
You turned your head, slowly, and there he was. Evil Eye, Jiji’s frame draped in that leaner, sharper aura, the third eye glowing faintly in the dark. He leaned against the porch post, arms folded, as if this was the most casual thing in the world.

“You don’t usually start conversations,” you said softly.

A corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile, not quite. “You’re more interesting than the others.” He tilted his head, studying you with all three eyes, and for once there wasn’t immediate hostility in his gaze. “I’ve been…thinking.”

That made you laugh, though it came out quieter than you meant. “That sounds dangerous.”
“Don’t test me,” he rumbled but the bite was dulled. His third eye pulsed once, faintly. “I made a deal with the boy. For survival. For convenience. But you…” He pushed off the post and took a step closer, shadows pooling around his feet like ink. “You tempt me in a different way.”

Your breath caught but you held his gaze. “And what exactly does that mean?”

He crouched, suddenly close, his face level with yours. One of his human eyes narrowed, the other softened. The third eye blazed. “It means I want a deal with you.”

Every instinct screamed at you to recoil but you didn’t move. “What kind of deal?”

“The kind that binds.” His voice was low, almost intimate now. “I give you strength, mine. The kind you could never touch as you are. In return, you let me…exist beside you. Not as Jiji. Not as some chained beast. But me.” His hand lifted, hovering near your wrist, not quite touching. “You carry me with you. And I carry you.”

You swallowed. “That sounds like possession.”

“No,” he said sharply, then quieter, almost wounded. “Not possession. A tether. A bond.” His eyes flickered, something raw breaking through the menace. “Call it whatever you like. But you would not be rid of me, even when I’m quiet.”

The porch felt too small, the night too heavy. You forced yourself to breathe. “And what would you get from this?”

He leaned just a fraction closer, his voice a whisper that seemed to vibrate through your bones. “I’d get to stay.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the porch light and the sound of your heart racing far too fast.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because you weren’t sure whether it terrified you or thrilled you.
And for once, Evil Eye didn’t push. He only held your gaze, unblinking, like a predator waiting to see if prey would step closer or run.

Your throat felt tight, every part of you warring with itself. You should reject this outright. It was dangerous, reckless, stupid. But the words of rejection got stuck somewhere between your ribs and your tongue.

So instead, you asked, “What would it feel like?”
Evil Eye stilled. His third eye pulsed once, a slow violet glow spilling across your skin. His answer didn’t come quick, it slipped out like something fragile.

“Like weight,” he murmured, tilting his head. “But not the kind that crushes. The kind that anchors.” His hand hovered closer to your wrist now, the heat of him brushing your skin. “You’d feel me. Always. Breathing with you. Watching with you. Our strength…shared.”

Your stomach twisted. “Once again, that sounds like possession.”

He made a frustrated noise in his throat, sharp but not cruel. “You humans…you think everything is about control. About one taking from the other. That’s not what I want.” His gaze hardened but beneath it was something almost desperate. “I don’t want to erase you. I want to…coexist?”

The word didn’t fit neatly in his mouth but it landed heavy between you.

“Why me?” you asked, voice breaking despite yourself. “Why not share more with Jiji? He’s already your vessel.”

Something flickered across his face, pain, fury, you couldn’t tell. His hand finally touched your wrist, warm and deliberate, not crushing. “Because he’s weak.” His voice roughened. “Because he tries to push me away. But you don’t flinch. You see me. And for reasons I can’t damn well explain, I don’t want to rip that from you.”

Your breath caught. His touch was too steady, too careful. The tether he promised already hummed between you in that small point of contact.

And maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was that dangerous curiosity you could never quite smother. But instead of pulling away, you whispered, “Show me, then I’ll decide”

The night deepened, violet light spilling brighter from his third eye, his expression unreadable. Then his fingers slid from your wrist to your palm, closing your hand in his like sealing an oath.

Heat rippled through you, heavy, grounding, not suffocating but undeniable. You felt it, the weight of him. The pulse of his existence brushing against yours, like a second heartbeat thrumming in your veins.

You gasped, clenching his hand tighter.
Evil Eye leaned close enough that his breath skimmed your ear, his voice molten steel and quiet hunger. “Now you understand.”

The air between you thrummed, heavy and electric, like the walls of the house couldn’t hold it at bay. Evil Eye’s hand was still laced with yours, hot and unyielding but his grip wasn’t crushing. It was waiting. Expectant. His third eye glowed steady now, its pulse syncing with the hammer of your heartbeat.

“Make the deal,” he said, voice low, threaded with smoke and thunder. “Say the words. You’ll have my strength. My power.”

The weight of it pressed down on you, every syllable a temptation. You could almost feel it already, that shield of violence, that promise of safety, wrapping around you like iron.

You exhaled slowly, your free hand coming up to brush against his jaw, though your chest felt tight enough to crack. “Evil Eye…”

The glow in his eyes sharpened. Hungry.

“You don’t have to give this to me,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a breath. “Not like this. Not tonight.”

His head tilted, a predator’s motion, sharp and suspicious. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” You swallowed. “Good deals aren’t just words. They’re about trust.” You held his gaze steady, though your throat was dry. “So give me time.”

For a moment, silence. The sound of embers hissed, water dripped, your pulse thundered in your ears. And Evil Eye…blinked. Not in confusion, in disbelief.
“No one has ever-!” His voice faltered, the echo stuttering like a storm breaking on stone. He snapped his mouth shut, jaw tightening. “You dare to…stall me?”

You managed a small, almost nervous smile. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just asking for something you’ve never given anyone before.”

That flicker you’d seen before, curiosity, intrigue, lit behind the blaze of his eyes. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for his thumb to graze the inside of your wrist, like a reminder of what he could take if he wanted.

“…You’re a fool,” he whispered again but it was different this time. Less venom. More like he was trying to convince himself.

“Then let me be one,” you murmured.

His third eye dimmed, just barely, as if considering. The silence stretched until you weren’t sure if he’d crush you or vanish back into Jiji. But finally, his grip slipped away.

“You’ll regret it,” he rasped, before turning his gaze turned away. But his third eye stayed dimmed, pulsing slower now. As though he’d remember this moment, whether he wanted to or not.

Chapter Text

The morning sun spilled gold across the streets, as you matched pace with Momo on the way to school. The two of you didn’t speak much at first, just the quiet shuffle of shoes and the low hum of cicadas in the distance.

“Oi! Wait up!” Jiji’s voice carried down the street. You both turned to see him jogging toward you, his bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder. His grin was bright and boyish, enough to make him look like he hadn’t spent the past weeks being host to a centuries old yokai.

“You look way too happy for a guy who’s been through the wringer.” Momo said flatly as he caught up.

Jiji scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, it’s not all bad. Since I’ve been home, Evil Eye’s…behaved, I guess? He’s still in here but he hasn’t tried anything. Not really. Almost like he’s-” his words faltered for a second, “-getting used to me or I’m getting used to him.”

You studied his face, wondering how much of that was optimism and how much was truth. There was no denying his aura had steadied since the last incident but Evil Eye wasn’t exactly someone you’d describe as “easygoing”.

Before you could comment, a sudden chorus of voices broke through.

“Jiji-kun!”

A cluster of girls from your class appeared at the corner, rushing up to him with starry eyes and squeals of delight. You blinked in surprise, clearly, word of his “absence” hadn’t dulled his popularity.

“Wow, you really came back to school!” one girl said, practically bouncing. Another held out a bottle, condensation beading along the outside. “Here, we got you your favorite drink!”

Jiji froze, eyes going wide. “Ah! Th-thanks! You didn’t have to-”

But his politeness betrayed him. Without thinking, he cracked the seal and downed a gulp.
Cold.

Momo’s face dropped. “Oh no.”

Your stomach twisted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A shimmer of violet energy rippled over Jiji’s form. His expression slackened, then twisted as the third eye carved itself open on his forehead. The warmth drained from the street, replaced by a pulse of static in the air.

“Pathetic humans…” The voice rumbled like distant thunder, dripping with disdain. His posture shifted, slouched no longer but straight-backed, commanding.

The gaggle of girls froze, their cheerful giggles cut short by the ominous change. They stumbled back in confusion.

Beside you, Momo sighed through her teeth.
You mirrored her exasperation. “…And he’s still the same cheerful idiot.”

The group of girls blinked at him, confusion etched across their faces.

“H-Huh? What’s wrong with Jiji-kun?” one of them whispered.

Momo stepped forward in a blur, planting herself between Evil Eye and the gawking crowd. Her smile was quick, sharp, and entirely fake. “He’s just…uh-practicing lines for a play!”

“A play?”

“Yeah,” Momo said firmly, giving them no room to doubt. “Method acting. You know Jiji, always taking things way too seriously.”

The girls exchanged uncertain glances. One let out a nervous laugh. “Oh…haha, that’s so like him.”
“Anyway, thanks for the drink!” Momo added brightly, “You all should head to class before we’re late.”

Still puzzled but appeased, the group slowly dispersed, tossing Jiji a few wary looks over their shoulders. Once they were gone, the mask dropped from Momo’s face. She turned back to you with a scowl.

“Well. That was fun.”

“Fun?” you hissed. “He’s possessed in broad daylight!”

Evil Eye’s eyes snapped toward you then, his stare heavy, unblinking. That violet glow crawled across your skin, demanding your attention. “Possessed?” he repeated, voice layered with offense. “I am no parasite. This body is mine to command.”
You and Momo exchanged a glance.

Momo muttered under her breath, “He’s not gonna change back easy, is he?”

You shook your head. “Probably.”

Evil Eye’s mouth curved in something close to a smirk, sharp and humorless. He folded his arms, towering despite wearing Jiji’s frame. “Finally, someone understands.”

Momo crossed her arms too, glaring up at him. “Don’t get comfortable. You can’t just walk around and act like a psycho.”

“I can, and I will.” His tone rumbled like stone grinding against stone. “Your world means nothing to me.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze settle back on you. Beneath that hostility was something else, something almost daring, like he was waiting to see if you would stop him.

Evil Eye tipped the empty bottle toward his lips again, as if he could will more liquid into existence. When nothing came, he clicked his tongue in irritation, the violet of his third eye flickering in agitation.

You took a cautious step forward. “Evil Eye…don’t you think it’s time to give Jiji back?”

His head tilted, deliberate, predatory. “Give him back?” He laughed under his breath, the sound dry and humorless. “He’s weak. He hides behind you, behind them.” His eyes, three of them, pinned you where you stood. “Why should I step aside for someone so fragile?”

“Because this isn’t your place,” you said, steadily. “You can’t just take over whenever you feel like it. People will notice.”

He swirled the bottle in his hand as though mocking you, the soft edges of Jiji’s features transformed into something sharper. “Let them notice. Their fear would be…satisfying.” He lifted the bottle again, this time biting at the rim as if it were some strange trophy.

Momo groaned, muttering under her breath, “He’s acting like a spoiled brat.”

You ignored her, keeping your eyes locked on his. “You’re just being stubborn. You could change back if you wanted to.”

That earned you a long pause. The tension in the air thickened, humming around you like static. Evil Eye lowered the bottle, letting it hang loose in his hand but didn’t move closer or away.

“I don’t want to,” he said finally, voice a deep rumble. “Here, at least, I am not silence. Here, I exist.”

Your chest ached at the raw edge beneath his words. He wasn’t just being difficult, he was clinging. Clinging to the only time he wasn’t shut away.

You stepped closer, softening your voice. “You exist when you’re inside Jiji too. Even if you don’t realize it. People see him and they care about him. That means they’re caring for you too.”
For a moment, the third eye narrowed, light pulsing like a struggling heartbeat. His grip on the bottle tightened.

“Lies,” he said flatly but there was no bite in it.
Evil Eye leaned back on his heels, expression smug as though he’d just won a battle by sheer stubbornness. “I’m not changing. Not now. Not for you.”

You glanced at Momo. She pinched the bridge of her nose, already calculating. “We don’t have time to argue. If we’re late, people will ask questions. And explaining why Jiji suddenly vanished again is going to be way harder than…this.” She gestured at Evil Eye, who was now inspecting his nails with all the arrogance of a king.

“…So we just take him with us?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

“What other choice do we have?” Momo muttered. “We’ll get through the day, keep him from blowing his cover, then find something warm for him to eat or drink to snap him back. Easy.”

You eyed the smug grin spreading across Evil Eye’s face and muttered, “Easy, huh.”

He tossed the empty bottle aside and straightened, towering with that inhuman presence even if he looked like Jiji on the surface. “Pathetic. You expect me to sit through your human rituals?”

“Yes,” you and Momo said in unison.

Chapter Text

The school gates loomed ahead, buzzing with students trickling in. Conversations overlapped, laughter carried on the breeze and Evil Eye looked at it all like a general surveying enemy territory.

“This is beneath me,” he muttered, voice low and sharp.

“Keep your voice down,” you hissed, clutching his sleeve before he could wander off. “You’re Jiji right now. Remember? Jiji.”

“I will not reduce myself to that fool’s-”

Momo cut in, plastering on a smile as a group of students waved. “Morning!” she called cheerfully, then leaned close to hiss, “Play along or we’re both dead.”

Evil Eye only narrowed his eyes, violet glow faint behind his lashes but he followed. Stiffly. Like every step through the school gates was an insult to his dignity.

By the time you reached the shoe lockers, whispers had already begun.

“Is that Jiji? He’s back?!”

“He acting…different.”

“Different good, though?”

You felt your stomach drop as a few girls rushed over, crowding him with bright smiles. “Jiji-kun! We missed you!” one chirped, shoving a stack of letters at him. Another leaned in too close, giggling.

Evil Eye’s gaze swept over them like he was considering which one to incinerate first. You could practically feel the heat building in his aura.

“Smile,” you muttered under your breath, forcing your own lips into something that resembled joy.

He bared his teeth. Sharp. Predatory.

The girls squealed anyway. “Kyaa! He’s so cool!”

You wanted to sink into the floor.

-

In class, things didn’t get easier. Evil Eye sat at his desk like a warlord on a throne, back straight, eyes burning holes into the chalkboard. When the teacher asked him to read aloud, his voice rolled through the room like thunder, sending shivers down half the class.

The teacher blinked, then nodded quickly. “Er…excellent projection, Jiji. You can sit down.”
Momo leaned over from the desk in front of you and whispered, “We are not surviving this day.”

You dragged a hand down your face. “We’ll find something warm at lunch. Just…keep him from declaring war on the math teacher until then.”

“Pathetic,” Evil Eye muttered, eyes narrowing at the equations on the board. “This is not knowledge. This is a waste of eternity.”

You kicked his shin under the desk. “Shut up and play along!”

-

The lesson droned on, chalk squeaking across the blackboard. Most students slumped over their desks, half asleep. Not Evil Eye. He sat unnervingly upright, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the teacher with the kind of intensity that could melt stone.
Every few minutes, he’d mutter. Low enough only you and Momo could hear.

“Incorrect.”

“Pathetic reasoning.”

“I could teach this better in a single breath.”

“Please don’t,” you whispered, pretending to jot notes. “Just…sit quietly.”

When the teacher called on him again, Evil Eye didn’t hesitate. He stood, towering with all the dignity of an emperor addressing his court. The question had been about solving a simple equation, but his answer came out like a lecture on cosmic balance and the futility of human limitations. His voice filled the classroom, deep and resonant, making the windows rattle in their frames.
Half the class stared, wide-eyed. The other half scribbled furiously, convinced they were being handed some kind of hidden wisdom.

When he finished with, “And that is why your equation is meaningless before the vastness of eternity,” the room was silent.

The teacher blinked twice. “…Good enthusiasm, Jiji. Thank you. Please, sit down.”

Evil Eye did, with the air of someone who had just reshaped human civilization.

Momo pinched the bridge of her nose. “I swear, he’s going to have a fan club by the end of the day.”
You risked a glance around. She wasn’t wrong. Several girls had literal sparkles in their eyes.

“Jiji’s changed so much…”

“He’s so…mature now.”

“That voice, though!”

You groaned into your arms. “We’re doomed.”

Things only got worse during the next subject. The teacher passed out a worksheet and Evil Eye stared down at it like it had personally offended him.
“This…flimsy paper seeks to test me?” He lifted it between two fingers, disgust curling his lip. “An insult.”

“Do it,” you hissed. “Just…just circle something.”
He looked at you like you’d suggested ritual suicide.

“Circle…something?”

“Yes!” you whispered harshly. “Pretend!”
Evil Eye let out a derisive laugh but he did lower his pen. He scrawled something down with sharp, jagged strokes. When the paper was collected later, the teacher frowned at his work.

Instead of math, he had scribbled a mess of lines that covered half the page.

“…Creative,” the teacher said, clearly deciding not to ask questions.

Chapter Text

The lunchroom was chaotic, trays clattering, chatter bouncing off every wall, the long lines moving at a snail’s pace. By the time you and Momo reached the front, the warm meals were gone, leaving only chilled options.

Momo sighed, resigned. “Figures. The universe is conspiring against us.”

You glanced at Evil Eye, who stood at your side with his usual imperious scowl. His presence was drawing glances again, some awed, some wary, most of them curious.

Momo leaned close. “I’ll find Okarun, fill him in. You…keep him from blowing our cover, okay?”

Your stomach dipped. “Wait-me?”

“You’re the only one he half listens to.” She smirked, already backing toward the door. “Good luck.”

And just like that, you were left alone at an empty lunch table with Evil Eye, who regarded the plastic bowl in front of him like it was a personal insult.
Cold ramen. Bright strips of egg, cucumber, ham, and tomatoes sat neatly over the chilled noodles, a glossy soy sesame dressing pooling at the bottom of the dish.

Evil Eye picked up the bowl, sniffed and his lip curled. “This is…cold.”

You winced. “Yeah. It’s called Hiyashi Chūka. People eat it on purpose. It’s a summer dish, you know?”

He scowled deeper. “A mockery of food.”

Before you could stop him, he made a move to grab the noodles directly with his hand. You yelped and quickly caught his wrist, forcing the bowl back down. “You can’t just-what are you, feral? People are watching!”

His dark eyes narrowed, glowing faintly in annoyance. “I care not for their gazes.”

“Yeah, well, I do. If you start acting like…like you, people are gonna notice something’s off.”

He jabbed a finger at the pair of chopsticks resting on the tray, disdain dripping from his voice. “And I am expected to use these flimsy sticks?”

It clicked then, of course. Evil Eye wouldn’t know how to eat with chopsticks. He’d been sealed for centuries, cut off from the ordinary world.

You hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering your voice. “Okay…then let me do it. Just this once. Otherwise, you’ll stand out too much.”

His lips curved into the faintest, most dangerous hint of a smirk. “You intend to feed me?”

Heat prickled your ears. “It’s not like that! It’s…it’s just practical, okay?”

“Mm.” He leaned back slightly, the glow in his third eye dimming with what could only be called amusement. “Very well. Show me how your kind eats, fool.”

Ignoring the flutter in your chest, you picked up the chopsticks, pinched some noodles and held them out. “Here. Just, don’t make it weird.”

He didn’t take his eyes off you as he leaned forward, closing his mouth around the bite with a slow, deliberate motion that made your throat tighten. The air between you felt heavier somehow, as if you’d just crossed into dangerous territory.

He chewed once, twice, then scoffed. “Cold. Flavorless. A peasant’s trick to imitate food.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “Then don’t eat.”

But he opened his mouth again, expectant.

“…Are you serious?”

The faint smirk returned. “You said it yourself. Practical.”

Your heart drummed wildly as you leaned forward again, offering another bite. The room around you buzzed with chatter and clatter but all you could focus on was the strange intimacy of feeding him like this, his eyes locked on yours the whole time, unblinking, unrelenting.

It felt less like feeding a classmate and more like being tested, weighed, measured. And yet, there was a quietness in him too, an odd stillness you hadn’t seen before.

Almost like he enjoyed this new form of attention.
You were mid-bite, chopsticks carefully pinched with another set of noodles, when a voice chimed in, far too cheerful for the moment.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

You froze. Evil Eye’s eyes flicked past your shoulder, narrowing. Slowly, you turned your head to find a classmate, one of the nosier boys from your homeroom, leaning against the table with a grin so smug it made you want to sink through the floor.

“Feeding each other lunch already?” He whistled low, dramatic. “You two move fast.”

Your face went hot. “It’s not-! He’s just-!” You stumbled over your words, frantically trying to come up with an excuse that didn’t sound worse.

The boy’s grin widened. “Ah, don’t worry, I get it. Couples do this all the time.”

“Couples?” you yelped.

Before you could dig yourself deeper, Evil Eye swallowed his bite and spoke, smooth, low and utterly devoid of shame. “Correct.”

You choked. “What?!”

The boy blinked, stunned by the bluntness, before laughing and raising his hands. “Alright, alright, say no more. I’ll let you lovebirds have your moment.” He sauntered off, still chuckling under his breath.

Your entire body burned. “Why would you say that?!” you hissed, leaning close to Evil Eye.

He leaned closer too, his voice a silken threat against your ear. “Because watching you squirm amuses me.”

Your jaw dropped. “You-!”

But then his third eye pulsed faintly and something about the way he was looking at you, steady, unyielding, made your retort catch in your throat. Beneath the smugness, there was something else. Something unreadable.

He opened his mouth again, expectant for the next bite, as if nothing had happened.

You exhaled shakily, forcing your hand steady on the chopsticks. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you continue.” His lips curved.

“Interesting.”

Chapter Text

You had just managed to collect yourself, lifting another bundle of noodles toward Evil Eye, when a voice cut through the cafeteria noise.

“What am I looking at?”

Your blood ran cold. Chopsticks froze halfway to Evil Eye’s mouth. Slowly, you turned your head to see Okarun standing at the edge of the table, his tray forgotten in his hands. His eyes were wide, darting between you, the chopsticks and the very smug Evil Eye sitting across from you.

“O-Okarun!” you blurted, panic tripping over your tongue. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Uh huh,” he said flatly, though his ears were already turning red.

Before you could explain further, Momo slid up beside him, arms crossed and brows raised. “So this is what you meant by ‘keeping an eye on him,’ huh?” she teased. “Sure looks like you’re keeping him real close.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. “It’s not-! He doesn’t know how to use chopsticks, okay?!” you sputtered, waving the utensils like they were Exhibit A. “I was just helping him so he wouldn’t draw attention!”

Momo’s smirk deepened. “Mm hm. Feeding him mouthful by mouthful is definitely the least attention drawing way to handle this.”

Okarun, still looking like his brain had short circuited, set his tray down and leaned in. “Wait, wait, hold on. Are you seriously telling me he-” He jabbed a finger at Evil Eye. “-doesn’t know how to use chopsticks?”

Evil Eye finally deigned to acknowledge them, his third eye narrowing with faint irritation. “Why should I know how to wield sticks for food? It is inefficient. Wasteful.”

The casual disdain in his tone made Okarun pinch the bridge of his nose. “Unbelievable…”

Momo chuckled under her breath. “Honestly, this is better than I expected. He’s not starting fights, not threatening anyone…Just getting spoon fed like a toddler.”

“Chopstick fed,” you muttered miserably.
Evil Eye leaned back slightly but his gaze remained fixed on you, unbothered by the audience. “Continue,” he said simply, like none of this mattered.

Your friends’ stares burned into you as you forced your hand to move again, lifting another bite to his lips. He accepted it smoothly, eyes never leaving yours, as if the others didn’t exist.

Momo’s smirk turned wicked. “Oh yeah. Totally not suspicious at all.”

Okarun groaned.

You lifted the next bite of cold ramen, trying desperately not to combust under Momo and Okarun’s combined stares. Evil Eye leaned forward, lips parting just enough to accept the noodles in that maddeningly calm way of his, gaze never leaving yours.

Momo leaned on the table, smirk curling wider. “You know, I could take a picture right now. Save this for later. Show Jiji when he comes back. Bet he’d love to see how close you two are getting.”

Your face burned hot. “Don’t you dare!”

Okarun made a strangled sound, somewhere between shock and embarrassment. “This is insane. Why feed him like he’s some-”

“-king?” Evil Eye cut in smoothly, licking a stray drop of sauce from his thumb. “Yes. At last, one human shows proper respect.”

You dropped your head into your hand. “This is mortifying…”

But before Momo could needle you further, Evil Eye turned his gaze fully on Okarun, third eye gleaming bright. “Tell me, boy,” he rumbled, voice curling with that echo that always felt like it came from everywhere at once. “Is it Tuesday?”

The cafeteria went silent around your table for one brief, absurd moment.

Okarun blinked. “Are you serious?”

Evil Eye leaned back, faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “You gave me your word. We fight on Tuesdays.”

Momo snorted so hard she had to cover her mouth with her sleeve. “Oh my god, he actually remembered.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself. The entire situation was absurd, your crush’s body possessed by an ancient yokai, who was not only eating lunch at school but also keeping track of his duel schedule.

“Uh no, it’s not Tuesday.” Okarun groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He gestured at the chopsticks in your hand. “Anyway, why are you feeding him ramen like it’s normal?”

Evil Eye’s smirk deepened, his gaze cutting back to you. “It is normal. For her to tend to me.”

That line hit too close, sending your pulse skittering. Momo’s eyes sharpened instantly, sensing the shift, her smirk curling with new ammunition.

“Well, well…” she drawled, sing song. “Looks like he’s not the only one eating something cold.”

You nearly choked. “MOMO!”

She grinned, utterly unrepentant, while Okarun sputtered into his drink. Evil Eye only leaned back, thoroughly enjoying the chaos he’d created, his eyes locked on you like he’d already won something no one else understood.

Chapter Text

Momo’s grin lingered but her eyes sharpened, thoughtful in a way that made you tense. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Okay, jokes aside, what about PE next? You really think he” she gestured with her hand toward Evil Eye, who was now sipping the broth with regal satisfaction, “is gonna run laps without incident?”

Evil Eye arched a brow, expression calm, almost regal. “This body is more than capable of such trivial exercises. I see no reason to ‘level’ your gymnasium, as you seem to expect.”

“Yeah because you promised to wait until Tuesday to cause trouble.” Okarun sighed.

The yokai’s third eye pulsed faintly, amused. “Do not worry, Boy. I keep my word. Until Tuesday, your lives are…secure.”

Momo tapped the side of her face with a single digit, muttering, “Still we can’t let you anywhere near PE. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

That was when you spoke, heart pounding as all eyes shifted toward you. “Then I’ll take him out.”

The table went quiet. Even Evil Eye paused mid-sip, the noodles slipping back into the broth with a faint splash.

“You’ll what?” Okarun blinked.

“I’ll sneak him off campus,” you said firmly, folding your arms like you’d already decided. “There’s a convenience store nearby. I can buy something hot, get him back to Jiji before anyone notices.”

Momo’s eyes narrowed, half amused, half concerned. “That’s…bold. Are you sure you can handle him by yourself?”

Evil Eye set his now empty bowl down, leaning closer, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your chest. “Handle me?” His smirk curved dangerously. “You speak as if I am a wild beast needing a leash.”

Your cheeks heated but you refused to look away. “Well, aren’t you?”

Something flickered in his expression at that, sharp amusement mixing with something heavier, something that made your pulse skip.

Momo groaned, throwing her hands up. “Fine. But if he levels half the convenience store, I’m blaming you.”

Okarun still looked like he might combust. “Absolutely insane. You can’t just take him out for a snack run like he’s your date!”

Evil Eye hummed low in his throat, like the idea pleased him. His third eye flared faintly as he turned to you. “A date. Hm. I find I do not mind the sound of that.”

You buried your face in your hands as Momo cackled and Okarun sputtered in horror.

Evil Eye leaned forward, resting his chin in one hand, his tone smooth as polished steel. “I’ve already agreed to behave.”

You folded your arms. “Will you though you?”

The smallest smile tugged at his lips, equal parts mockery and intrigue. “Maybe.”

Chapter Text

The bell rang and students poured into the hallways in a tide of voices and clattering shoes. You slipped your bag over your shoulder and gave Momo a quick nod. She shot you a look that said, good luck, you’re insane, before disappearing with Okarun.

You turned to Evil Eye. He hadn’t moved from his spot, arms crossed, expression unreadable. That faint violet glow from his third eye pulsed, subtle but constant.

“Alright,” you whispered, grabbing his sleeve. “We need to get out before the next teacher shows up.”
His brow arched but he allowed you to tug him toward the door. “Do you mean to ‘smuggle’ me, little fool? How quaint.”

“Not quaint. Necessary.” You peeked around the corner, three girls giggling by the shoe lockers, blocking the exit. Heart pounding, you ducked back and pressed your back to the wall. Evil Eye loomed over you, his presence like a furnace against your side.

“What now?” he murmured, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through the air.

“Now…we wait.”

He tilted his head, watching you with unnerving stillness. Then, as the girls’ laughter faded down the hall, you bolted forward, dragging him with you. His stride was slow, deliberate but somehow he matched your frantic pace without looking the least bit rushed.

Out the doors. Across the courtyard. Past the vending machines.

Almost safe.

“Your heart is hammering,” Evil Eye remarked casually, violet gaze flicking down at you. “Is this…exhilaration? Or fear?”

“Neither,” you hissed, yanking him behind the side gate where the street opened up. “It’s annoyance. You’re really bad at sneaking.”

His smile was faint but sharp. “Or perhaps I simply have no need to sneak.”

The world beyond the school fence stretched quiet and ordinary, rows of houses, the distant hum of cicadas. For a moment, it felt surreal. Just you and him, standing there like classmates who had ditched school together.

You let out a shaky breath. “Come on. There’s a convenience store this way.”

“Very well,” he said smoothly, falling into step beside you. His aura had dimmed, not gone but contained, like a stormcloud choosing to drift instead of break. After a few paces, he added, “You risk much, shielding me from their suspicion.”

You shot him a side glance. “And?”

“And…” his third eye glowed faintly as he regarded you, “…you are interesting.”

Your pulse stumbled. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

The quiet of the residential streets pressed in, the cicadas buzzing lazy and loud from somewhere unseen. Your shoes clicked against the pavement, and beside you Evil Eye walked, his stride smooth, his aura still faintly prickling against your skin.

For once, he wasn’t talking. Which was somehow worse than his usual arrogance.

So you decided to break the silence. “You could at least pretend you’re enjoying the fresh air.”

He glanced at you sidelong, his expression unreadable. “The air is the same as it was two hundred years ago. Stale. Thin. Insignificant.” A pause. “Though I suppose your company is not.”

Your stomach flipped but you forced a laugh. “You’re terrible at compliments.”

“Not a compliment.” His tone was cool but his third eye pulsed brighter, betraying the undercurrent of something more. “An observation.”

You kept walking, heartbeat quick, unsure how to respond. Luckily or unluckily, he filled the silence this time himself.

“You have not answered me.”

You blinked. “Answered what?”

His gaze cut through you, violet glow simmering like coals. “The deal I offered you.”

Your throat tightened. Of course he’d bring it up now. “I told you, I need more time.”

“You have had time.” His voice was soft, dangerous in its patience. “You walk beside me. You shield me. You risk yourself to keep me hidden. And yet you hesitate.”

“I’m not hesitating,” you shot back, though it came out more defensive than you intended. “I’m…thinking.”

Evil Eye stopped walking. Just stopped, so suddenly you nearly tripped due to still pulling him along by his sleeve. When you turned to look at him he remained still. His eyes, two human, one inhuman, fixed on you with unsettling stillness.

“Thinking,” he repeated, as though tasting the word. His head tilted slightly, his earrings catching the faint sunlight. “Do you think I am so different from the boy you pine for?”

The question struck you harder than you expected. Your chest went tight, breath snagging. “That’s not fair.”

“Fairness,” he murmured, taking a slow step closer, “is for mortals who still believe in rules.”

The heat of him crowded into your space, his third eye glowing brighter now, as if it sought to strip the answer from your soul.

You pulled your hand from his uniform sleeve, hands now curled into fists at your sides. “…Then maybe I just don’t want to give you the wrong answer.”

That silenced him. For a beat, all you heard was the slow rolling of wind scattered leaves on the street and the low hum of his aura vibrating against your skin. His expression didn’t change but his grip on the moment loosened, like he hadn’t expected you to say that.

At last, he moved again, resuming his steady walk toward the corner store. “You are vexing,” he said, almost to himself. “And yet…I find I do not wish you to stop.”

You exhaled, shaky, and hurried to match his stride.

The road stretched quiet ahead, lined with low houses and the distant hum of traffic from the main street. Evil Eye’s presence beside you was heavy, his aura brushing at your skin like a current you couldn’t shake.

“Your pace is uneven,” he said suddenly.

You glanced at him, brow furrowed. “What? No, it’s not-”

Before you could finish, he shifted closer, his shoulder grazing yours as though proving a point. “It is,” he murmured. “You drag your left foot slightly. Fatigue, perhaps?”

Heat shot up your neck at the contact, though he kept walking as though nothing were out of the ordinary. “I’m fine,” you muttered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

“Mm.” His hum carried something between disapproval and amusement. “Mortals are fragile. It would be troublesome if you collapsed before we reached our destination.”

You shot him a sideways look. “So this is…what? You hovering to make sure I don’t fall over?”
“That is one reason.” His third eye pulsed faintly, betraying something sharper beneath the calm.

Then, quieter, “Do you object?”

Your mouth went dry. You didn’t answer right away, and in the silence, his hand brushed the back of yours, barely a touch, more of a suggestion than an action. But it lingered long enough to make your pulse jump.

You cleared your throat, looking straight ahead. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable,” he echoed softly, his lips curving just slightly. “And yet, still here.”

The cicadas sang louder, the summer air thick between you. He didn’t pull away this time, walking close enough that every step reminded you of the line you hadn’t drawn.

Chapter Text

The cool blast of air from the convenience store doors washed over you, a welcome relief from the lingering heat outside. You stepped inside, tugging Evil Eye gently by the wrist to keep him close. He didn’t resist, if anything, he followed a little too easily, his gaze scanning the shelves with a sharp, curious hunger.

“Alright,” you whispered, glancing at the other customers to make sure no one was paying too much attention. “We just need something warm. Tea, coffee, even a hot bun, anything to change you back.”

Evil Eye tilted his head, his third eye faintly glowing as if the fridges and shelves were somehow beneath his notice. “That?” He pointed lazily toward a steaming case of pork buns. “Too tepid. Hardly worthy of my…recalibration.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Recalibration? You mean changing back into Jiji.”

“Hm.” His lips curved. “If you wish to put it so crudely.”

Rolling your eyes, you guided him down another aisle. “Fine. What about canned coffee? It’s hot enough.”

He plucked one from the shelf with elegant fingers, weighed it in his palm, then set it back down with exaggerated disinterest. “Barely warm. Insufficient.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, reaching for another drink only for him to casually intercept, his hand brushing yours in the process. The spark of contact sent a rush up your arm but you pretended not to notice.

“You seem impatient,” he said smoothly. “Do you not enjoy my company?”

Your throat tightened. He was doing this on purpose, you could see it now, the stubborn glint in his eyes, the way his excuses piled up just to keep the two of you wandering together a little longer.

“You’re impossible,” you said, grabbing a steaming cup of miso soup from the rack. “This is hot enough and you know it.”

Evil Eye leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed your face as he spoke. “Perhaps. But then our little…excursion would end.”

Your chest fluttered, betraying you before you could answer. His eyes lingered, searching, like he wanted to catch the crack in your composure. And despite yourself, you almost smiled because for once, it wasn’t destruction he seemed hungry for.

And yet, you still pressed the steaming miso cup into his hand, firm this time. “Drink it. Before you cause more trouble.”

Evil Eye turned the cup slowly, watching the steam curl upward like it amused him. “So eager to be rid of me,” he drawled. “And yet…” His eyes slid toward you, their violet gleam too sharp, too knowing. “Was it not me you kissed, that night in the ruins of that temple home?”

Your chest went tight. “That was different. I was trying to stop you.”

A low, humorless chuckle slipped from him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And when I kissed you back?” His third eye pulsed faintly, searching your face for cracks in your calm. “Did you feel nothing then?”

Heat rushed up your neck. “That wasn’t-you weren’t-it’s complicated.”

“Complicated,” he repeated, savoring the word. He leaned down, close enough that your reflection warped in the surface of his third eye. “Jiji kissed you too, didn’t he? Though…less graceful, more desperate.”

Your pulse tripped. He was teasing, yes but beneath the mockery was something sharper, almost pleading, like he was demanding an answer he didn’t know how to ask for directly.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “Maybe you’re both too caught up in who kissed who. Maybe what matters is why.”

For the first time, Evil Eye hesitated. His smirk faltered and though it returned a beat later, it didn’t hide the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He glanced down at the miso cup, then back at you.

“Then tell me,” he murmured, voice low, “which one of us is it you truly want reaching for you?”

He stepped closer, close enough that your shoulder brushed the edge of the shelf behind you.

Your breath caught. “That’s not-”

He leaned in, cutting you off, not with touch but with proximity, his third eye glowing faintly. “Don’t lie. I’ll know. You’re softer with me than you should be. Too soft. Why?”

You swallowed hard but you didn’t back away. “Because…you’re not just what you say you are.”
For a moment, his smirk faltered and something raw broke through, like a fracture in stone letting light escape. Then, almost too quickly, the mask slid back in place. He tapped the miso cup against your chest, the heat searing faintly through your uniform.

“You’re a dangerous one,” he murmured, voice low and strange. “Caring for me as though I deserve it. Do you?” His hand lingered at the cup, fingers brushing yours as if he couldn’t quite let go.
You forced a smile. “Drink it and maybe you’ll find out.”

Evil Eye stared at you for a long beat, unreadable. Then he huffed something between a laugh and a scoff, still not drinking. He turned, walking down the aisle with the miso in hand, drawing out your time together with stubborn, deliberate steps.

And you realized, he wasn’t refusing because he hated the idea of turning back. He was refusing because drinking meant leaving this moment, leaving you.

Chapter Text

The automatic doors slid open with a hiss, spilling both of you out into the late afternoon air. The sun hung low, bleeding gold across the street and the miso cup steamed faintly in Evil Eye’s hand. You adjusted the strap of your bag and turned to him, trying not to look as tired as you felt.

“Drink it before it cools,” you urged. “We don’t want you walking back onto campus like this.”

He swirled the cup lazily, not drinking. “You sound so sure you’ll get Jiji back. Perhaps I prefer this form.”

“You don’t,” you shot back. “And Jiji doesn’t.”

“Mm.” His lips curved, sharp as a blade but with something softer hidden behind it. “Still, you’d rather he be the one at your side…wouldn’t you?”

The question was meant to sting, you knew that. But the way his third eye dimmed, flickering faintly like a candle in the wind, gave him away.

“Stop stalling,” you said firmly. “You’ll just make it harder.”

He tilted his head, watching you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. Then, in one smooth motion, he leaned forward just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the miso balanced loosely in his other hand.

“One last thing,” he murmured, his breath fanning against your lips. “When Jiji wakes, will you tell him?
That you didn’t hate my touch? That you let me stay because part of you wanted me to?”

Your heart jumped but you forced your expression steady. “That’s not fair.”

He chuckled low in his throat, savoring your reaction like it was sweeter than anything he had yet tasted in this era. Straightening, he finally raised the cup to his lips. The steam curled up, catching in the glow of his eye. “Fairness has nothing to do with it.”

The first sip passed his mouth and already his frame seemed to soften, the weight of his presence dimming. But his last words lingered, curling in the air between you, heavier than the heat of the soup.

“Remember this, little fool…I will.”

And then he was gone. Jiji’s knees buckled as the cup almost slipped from his hands and you barely caught him before he stumbled. His breath came quick, disoriented and his eyes blinked open wide, confused and already flustered.

“What…what happened? Did he-did I-?”

You swallowed the words pressing at your throat, still feeling the echo of Evil Eye’s nearness, his voice curling like smoke.

“Nothing important,” you said softly. “Just…let’s get you back before anyone notices.”

Chapter Text

The heat in Jiji’s body dimmed suddenly, the overwhelming aura vanishing like mist on the wind. He blinked up at you, disoriented, his breath shaky as though he’d been running in a dream. You steadied him as the miso cup wobbled in his hand.

His gaze dropped to it, still steaming faintly in the cool air. Jiji frowned. “It’s…still hot.” His voice was soft, almost to himself. “So…he didn’t want to change back, did he?”

You froze, pulse stuttering.

But instead of anger or fear, Jiji let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck in that sheepish way of his. “Figures. That guy acts all high and mighty but…” His smile tilted, sad at the edges. “I think he’s just lonely.”

The ease with which he said it cut through you sharper than any of Evil Eye’s barbs. You’d expected suspicion, maybe even resentment. But Jiji’s eyes were clear, thoughtful, not afraid.

“He’s been alive for centuries, right? All that time sealed away, hated, feared…” Jiji’s grip tightened around the cup, like he was holding onto more than just the miso. “I guess I’d lash out too if I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere.”

Your throat tightened. “Jiji…”

He shook his head quickly, flashing you a grin that didn’t quite hide the weight behind it. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. It’s just weird, you know? Knowing he’s part of me and still trying to figure out if some of what I feel is mine or his.”

The steam rose between you both, carrying the faint smell of miso and Jiji’s grin softened into something smaller. “But if he really didn’t want to leave yet…” His eyes flicked up to yours, steady and searching. “Maybe that means he’s starting to care. In his own messed up way.”

You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was hold him steady, the warmth of his body against yours grounding you as his words lingered in the air.

Jiji blew on the surface of the miso cup as he straightened though his eyes stayed on you. “So, what happened? While he was in control?” His voice was light, casual almost but you could hear the thread of seriousness under it. “You’re not hurt, so I guess he didn’t try anything, right?”

You hesitated, fingers tightening as you wrung them together. It would’ve been easy to brush it off, make a joke, smooth over the edges so Jiji didn’t have to think about it. But his expression, open and steady in a way that made your chest ache, told you he wasn’t looking for the easy answer.

“He didn’t hurt me,” you said softly.

Relief flickered across his face but it didn’t last long. “But…?”

You swallowed. “But he didn’t want to change back. He dragged it out. Asked questions. Teased me.” Your cheeks warmed as the memory of his sharp smile flickered in your mind. “It was like he was testing me. Or maybe just trying to keep me there with him.”

Jiji didn’t speak at first. He just took a sip of the miso, eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the steam. Then, with a faint sigh, he leaned back.

“That sounds like him.” His tone wasn’t bitter, though. Just tired and maybe resigned. “He’s pushy. Stubborn. Always trying to get a reaction.” Jiji glanced sideways at you, his grin crooked, self deprecating. “Guess I can’t blame him for picking you as his favorite target.”

You blinked, startled. “Jiji-”

“I mean it,” he said a bit too quickly. His grin slipped into something more serious, more vulnerable. “If he’s trying that hard to stick around you, maybe it’s not about power. Maybe he’s just…scared you’ll pick me over him.”

The words settled heavy between you.

“Does that…bother you?” you asked, almost a whisper.

Jiji stared down into the cup, as if it held some type of answer at the bottom. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, honest. “Yeah. A little. Because I don’t even know where my feelings end and his begin. But…” He looked back at you, eyes bright with that earnest warmth only he could carry. “I’d rather you tell me the truth than let me figure it out too late.”

Jiji’s words still lingered in the air, heavy with honesty. You let out a quiet breath, watching the way his fingers curled around the cup like it was the only warm thing anchoring him.

“Do you remember,” you began softly, “when I asked why you were avoiding me?”

He blinked, startled by the shift. “…Yeah.”

“I told you then that it was messy.” You smiled faintly, a small curve of reassurance. “And it still is. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, Jiji.”

His gaze lifted to you, uncertain, searching.

You pressed on, heart pounding but voice steady. “I liked you first. Before any of this possession stuff, before Evil Eye even entered the picture. You. The cheerful, kind idiot who runs late to class and still makes people laugh. That hasn’t changed.”

Color rose faintly in Jiji’s cheeks and he looked away quickly, like he couldn’t stand the weight of your sincerity.

“And Evil Eye…” You hesitated, the memory of that sly grin flickering in your mind. “He can be a lot to handle. But I don’t…dislike his company either. He’s still part of you, whether he wants to admit it or not. So maybe it’s not about choosing one over the other.”

Jiji’s head snapped back toward you at that, eyes wide. “You mean-”

“I mean,” you said gently, “I don’t need you to fight with him over me. I need you both to be honest with yourselves. And with me.”

For once, Jiji had no quick grin, no playful deflection. Just silence, his throat working as he tried to take in your words. Slowly, almost shakily, he let out a laugh, small, nervous but genuine.

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmured.

You nudged his shoulder with yours. “It’s not simple and that’s okay.”

Chapter Text

The evening air was cool when the two of you found yourselves walking side by side, the cup of miso long emptied and thrown away.

For a while, he was quiet. The cheerful mask he usually wore was thin, fragile at the edges. Finally, his voice broke through.

“Back then, when I kissed you.” He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. “I still can’t tell if it was me or him. And that scares me more than any yokai.”

You slowed your steps, giving him space to continue.

“I don’t hate him,” Jiji said after a beat, softer this time. “But sometimes I wonder if what I feel, what I want, is even mine to claim.”

You stopped completely then and when he turned, your eyes met his. “That’s why I promised, remember? To be honest. To help you. Even when it’s messy.”

Something flickered in his expression, relief, maybe even longing or both. He didn’t reach for you right away. His hand twitched at his side, hesitant. Then, almost shyly, his fingers brushed yours. Not quite holding. Just the faintest press, as if asking permission.

You didn’t pull away.

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time. It was comfortable, like the first fragile thread of something weaving between you both.

For a few steps, his fingers lingered against yours, trembling with hesitation. You could feel it, the quiet war going on inside him, the weight of doubt pressing down.

So you made the choice for him.

You shifted your hand until your palm slid against his, fingers curling gently to weave between his. The motion was smooth, steady, like it had always belonged there.

Jiji froze. His head snapped toward you, wide eyed, as though you’d just stepped into a space he wasn’t sure you were allowed to. His lips parted but no words came out, only a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to question everything,” you said softly, keeping your eyes on the path ahead. “Not with me. I’ll keep my promise to honest with you. When it involves him. You. And when it’s about us.”

For a long beat, all you heard was the soft hum of cicadas and the crunch of gravel underfoot. Then, slowly, Jiji’s fingers tightened around yours, his grip still uncertain but warm.

You glanced at him with a faint smile. “You just think too much.”

He shook his head but there was the smallest curve of a smile tugging at his mouth. The kind that slipped past his defenses before he could catch it.
Hand in hand, you both continued toward Seiko’s home, the silence not awkward anymore but calm.

Chapter Text

The little grill Seiko had dragged out onto the patio hissed and popped as juices dripped onto the coals. She had her sleeves rolled up, a glass of beer in one hand, the tongs in the other.

The warm scent of sizzling meat filled the air, smoke curling lazily above Seiko’s little backyard grill. Plates were already stacked high with sliced pork belly, marinated beef and skewered vegetables, while Seiko herself crouched by the grill in her apron, chopsticks in hand like a general commanding troops.

“Eat up, eat up!” she barked, flipping meat with swift precision. “If you leave anything, you’re fake aliens might as well abduct you for wasting food.”

Okarun, already on his third bowl of rice, choked on his laughter. “Y-yes ma’am!” He reached for another slice of beef only for Momo to smack his hand lightly with her chopsticks.

“Let it finish cooking first, dummy.” She gave him that exasperated grin that softened the scolding.

You sat nearby, knees tucked under the low table Seiko had set up, watching the easy rhythm of the group. The night was warm, cicadas still buzzing faintly in the distance and for once there was no alien or yokai crisis looming over them. Just food, laughter and the smell of grilled meat.

Jiji plopped down beside you, holding his plate like a shield. “If I don’t get a piece soon, Evil Eye might jump out just to steal it,” he joked, leaning close enough that you could feel the brush of his shoulder.

“Don’t even,” You muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Seiko would exorcise him on the spot.”

“Damn right I would,” Seiko called from the grill, not even looking back. “I’ll exorcise you too if you don’t bring me another plate from the kitchen.”

Jiji stood with a dramatic sigh but before he went, he dipped his head slightly toward you, voice quieter. “You want anything special? I’ll bring it.”

The simple offer made something warm uncurl in your chest. “Just whatever you’re having.”

When he returned, balancing a fresh plate of sliced meat, he settled beside you again, closer this time, close enough that your elbows touched whenever you both moved your chopsticks to take meat from the grill.

The conversation swirled around you. Momo and Okarun bickering, Seiko muttering about “kids eating like locusts” but Jiji seemed more interested in nudging his plate toward you whenever you hesitated to take any more food.

“You’ve got to try this one,” he insisted, placing a perfectly grilled slice on your rice. “C’mon, it’s the best bite.”

“You’re going to run out if you keep giving me all of them,” You pointed out, though you still accepted it, your chopsticks brushing against his as you picked the piece up.

Jiji only shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “Then we’ll run out together.”

The words landed heavier than they should have, pulling your gaze to his for a beat too long. His grin faltered just a little, enough to reveal the quiet sincerity under the joke.

Seiko’s voice snapped the spell, sharp as ever. “Oi, lovebirds, if you’re done making googly eyes, somebody flip the skewers before they burn!”

Both you and Jiji nearly jumped out of your skins, fumbling for the skewers. The table erupted in laughter, Okarun nearly spilling his rice, Momo hiding her chuckle behind her hand.

But when Jiji leaned over to turn the skewers, his pinky brushed your hand under the table and this time, neither of you moved away.

Chapter Text

The last of the skewers were gone, and Seiko leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, fanning herself with a paper fan. “That’s it, I’m retiring from cooking duty. Next time, one of you brats does the grilling.”

“Not it!” Okarun shot up his hand immediately, face flushed from eating too fast.

“You wouldn’t last ten seconds near hot coals,” Momo teased, smirking as she sipped her barley tea.

Laughter rippled through the group and for a while, the only sounds were the clink of dishes and the hum of cicadas. Eventually, Momo tugged Okarun up to help Seiko with cleanup, mostly to keep him from sneaking more bites. That left Jiji and you sitting side by side at the low table, the faint glow of the grill’s embers casting long shadows across the yard.

For once, Jiji was quiet. He held his tea cup in both hands, staring into it as though the answers to the universe were floating inside. You tilted your head at him.

“You okay?” You asked softly.

Jiji blinked, then gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Just…you ever notice how rare this is? A night where nothing’s chasing us, nobody’s possessed, no aliens trying to vaporize us. Just….this.”

He gestured vaguely toward the half cleared table and the sound of Seiko scolding Okarun in the kitchen.

You smiled, the warmth of the evening settling into your chest. “Yeah. It feels nice.”

Jiji let out a breath, shoulders easing and for a moment he just looked at you, really looked, like he was memorizing your face in the glow of the fading light. “I don’t wanna waste it, y’know? Even if it’s small stuff like this.”

The words hit at something deeper than you expected and you found yourself reaching out before you could overthink it, brushing your fingers against his. Jiji startled, glancing down at their hands but then, hesitantly, he turned his palm up, lacing his fingers with yours.

It was clumsy and shy, nothing like Evil Eye’s boldness but it was Jiji. Honest. Warm.

“I, uh…” he chuckled nervously, voice barely above a whisper. “This feels right. Not rushed. Just…right.”

You squeezed his hand gently, grounding him. “Then let’s not rush it. We’ve got time.”
Somewhere inside, Seiko yelled something about “kids these days,” and the two of them broke into quiet laughter, the kind that made their shoulders lean into each other naturally.

For once, neither of them felt the need to pull away.

The cicadas sang louder as the night began to deepen, their rhythm filling the silences between your words. Jiji’s thumb brushed lightly against your hand, almost absentminded, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“You know…” he began, voice hesitant, “I used to think…well, I used to convince myself I was better off keeping people at arm’s length. That way, if…if Evil Eye acted up, I wouldn’t drag anyone else into it.”

You stayed quiet, listening. The softness in their gaze urged him on.

“But then you kept showing up,” Jiji continued, his tone caught somewhere between wonder and disbelief. “Even when I avoided you, even when things got messy. You never…you never backed off. You just said you’d stick around, no matter what.”

The words carried weight, more than he probably intended to let slip. You felt a knot of warmth unfurling in your chest as a result.

You smiled faintly. “That’s because I meant it. You don’t have to do all this alone, Jiji.”

His laugh was quiet but shaky, betraying how much it meant to hear that. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Not easy,” You admitted, tilting their head. “But worth it.”

For a long moment, they sat like that, hands tangled, the glow from the grill dwindling to faint sparks and the sound of Momo and Okarun bickering good naturedly drifting from the kitchen. The ordinary warmth of the moment wrapped around them, fragile but real.

Jiji glanced at you again, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else…but then he thought better of it, instead squeezing your hand gently.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “For…not giving up on me.”

You squeezed his hand back. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

And just like that, Jiji smiled, bright, unguarded, the kind of smile that made all the heavy shadows he carried seem lighter for a while.

Your fingers tightened lightly around Jiji’s hand. Your voice came out soft, careful but threaded with something that made him meet your eyes.

“I’m glad things are starting to work out,” You said. “Because…I missed you. Just you. Your dumb jokes, the way you get excited about things, even how you’re always too cheerful for your own good. When you were pulling away, when you tried to put all that distance between us-” Your throat tightened for a second, “-I hated it. Not because I was mad but because it felt like I was losing you.”

Jiji blinked at you, his smile faltering into something more vulnerable. He shifted slightly, like the weight of your words sat heavy on his chest.

“You…missed me?” he asked, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You huffed a little laugh, trying to ease the sting of the truth. “Of course I did, idiot. You’re Jiji. Even if things get complicated sometimes…that doesn’t change the fact that I like having you around. Not the version of you that’s pushing everyone away. Just the real you.”

Jiji’s gaze softened, though his jaw tightened like he was holding something back. He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand again, slower this time, more deliberate.

“You know…when Evil Eye’s in my head, he’s always loud. Like an echo I can’t turn off. But when you talk to me like that, it’s…different. Quieter. Less annoying. And it’s easier to breathe, to slow down and understand him.”

Your chest warmed at that, a small smile tugging at your lips. “If it feels like something you can breathe in, instead of something that suffocates you then maybe the dynamic between you and Evil Eye is changing.”

For a moment, the cicadas, the cooling embers, and the faint voices of their friends all faded. Jiji just looked at you like he was seeing something fragile and precious, something he didn’t dare name out loud yet.

“Guess I’m lucky you’re so stubborn,” he murmured and there was something in his voice, soft and unguarded, that made your heart stumble.

For a second, neither of you moved. The space between you tightened, like a thread pulling taut. Jiji leaned in just slightly, his breath catching as if he wasn’t sure if he was about to do something foolish or brave. Your lips parted, pulse thrumming with the weight of the almost.

And then-

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

You both jerked back as Momo’s voice cut through, playful and sing song in tone. She stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other holding a plate of skewers, grinning like a cat who had caught mice mid-scheme.

“Geez, Jiji,” she teased, eyes flicking between your faces, “can’t even make it through one barbecue without trying to turn it into a romance drama?”

Jiji practically leapt to his feet, waving his free hand frantically while still holding onto yours like he’d forgotten to let go. “I-It’s not-! We weren’t! I wasn’t doing anything!”

Momo snorted, clearly enjoying his flustering. “Uh-huh. Sure. Looked like ‘not doing anything’ to me. You should’ve seen your face, red as the grill.”

You tried to speak but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. Jiji let go of your hand at last, rubbing the back of his neck with a groan.

“Momo…” he muttered under his breath, more plea than scolding.

“What? Don’t mind me. Carry on.” She winked dramatically before sauntering off, leaving you both to stew in the awkward silence she’d dropped like a bomb.

After a long beat, you and Jiji glanced at each other again. He scratched his cheek, still pink and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Classic Momo,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed, though his eyes lingered on you a moment longer before darting away.

Chapter Text

The house smelled faintly of grilled meat and sweet soy, the last traces of Seiko’s feast lingering in the air. Plates were stacked haphazardly on the counter and the group had migrated into the living room, now transformed into a den of sleepover clutter. Blankets and pillows spilled across the tatami, a few futons unrolled and half claimed.

Momo had already flopped down on her stomach, remote in hand, while Okarun crouched beside her, arguing animatedly over which movie they should put on. Aira had shown up halfway through dinner and was now sprawled across a pile of cushions like she owned the place, throwing in her loud opinions about how anything scary was a no go after the last alien mess.

Their voices overlapped, playful and loud. Seiko cackled from the kitchen, calling them all brats and telling them to keep it down.

Meanwhile, you and Jiji ended up off to the side, settled against a futon that was folded in half, one part leaned against the wall. Jiji had gone quiet again after dinner but not in the heavy way from before, more like he was content just watching everyone else bicker. His posture slouched with comfort, one hand lazily toying with the hem of the blanket you both sat on.

It felt different than the last few days. Lighter. Like maybe he’d finally let himself relax, even just a little.

And in that warmth, the laughter, the mess, the closeness, it was easy to forget all the heavy things waiting outside Seiko’s walls.

“Absolutely not!” Aira’s voice rose as she jabbed her finger at the TV like it had personally offended her. “No ghosts, no curses, no creepy little kids crawling out of wells. I just got my hair fixed after last time and I am not frying it off again screaming!”

“You’re exaggerating,” Okarun offered kindly, kneeling next to the stack of DVDs Seiko had pulled from who knows where. “Besides, horror movies are classic for sleepovers!”

“Classic for nightmares,” Momo countered, chin propped on her hands as she sprawled across the futon. “What about a comedy? Something we don’t have to think too hard about.”

“Comedy is boring.” Aira tossed a cushion in Momo’s direction, earning a laugh when it bounced off her head.

“Hey!”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, laughing softly as their voices overlapped. Jiji sat beside you, long legs stretched across the tatami, one knee bent so he could rest his arm lazily on it. He wasn’t jumping into the argument, just watching with that small, easy grin you hadn’t seen from him in a long time.

He tilted his head toward you, voice pitched low enough that it wouldn’t cut through the noise. “Feels like they could argue all night.”

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. But…it’s nice, isn’t it?”

He hummed in agreement, eyes flicking back to the group just as Seiko bustled in, carrying a plate of cut fruit like an exasperated camp counselor. “Oi, brats. Settle it already or I’m picking something myself.”

That got everyone to groan in unison.

“Fine, fine!” Okarun raised both hands in surrender. “No horror. How about an action flick? Big explosions, dumb jokes, everyone wins.”

Momo wrinkled her nose but didn’t argue. Aira rolled her eyes but leaned back into her pillow pile.

“Explosions it is,” Seiko declared, plopping the plate down and heading back to the kitchen with a triumphant laugh.

As the opening credits rolled and the room slowly quieted under the flickering glow of the TV, you shifted just a little closer to Jiji, both of you sinking into the comfortable mess of blankets. His shoulder brushed yours and he didn’t move away.

The movie blared on the screen, explosions painting the room in bursts of orange and white. Okarun leaned forward, popcorn bowl in hand, practically vibrating with secondhand excitement.

“See, see? This part’s awesome-watch, watch!” he whispered loudly, nearly dropping a fistful of popcorn in his enthusiasm.

“We are watching,” Aira signed, though she was leaning in too, eyes locked on the fight sequence.

Momo, sprawled across three pillows, snorted when the hero delivered a cheesy one-liner. “This is so stupid…but kinda good.”

The chatter dipped into comfortable bursts, laughs at the ridiculous stunts, collective groans at over the top dialogue. Seiko even peeked in once, muttered something about “brainless movies,” then retreated with a chuckle when Momo shushed her.

You were smiling, soaking in the energy but your attention kept drifting beside you.

Jiji.

At first, you thought he was just quiet, caught up in the movie. But then you noticed the way his head dipped a little too long between explosions, only to jerk back up. His eyes, half-lidded, blinked slow as if fighting a losing battle.

And then-

Thump.

His head tipped onto your shoulder, heavy and warm, strands of his red hair brushing your cheek. You stiffened, just for a second but the sound of his breathing softened the moment. Slow. Even. Already halfway to sleep.

You glanced at the others, still distracted by the action scene. So you felt yourself and let him stay there.

That was until he shifted again, gravity pulling him further down. His head slid from your shoulder, nestling onto your lap instead, his entire frame curling slightly to the side like an oversized cat claiming a warm spot.

Your breath caught.

There he was, Jiji, normally all easy smiles and awkward laughs, looking completely unguarded. Vulnerable. Peaceful. The faintest crease in his brow eased as he settled against you, like he’d finally found a place to rest.

Your fingers twitched, tempted to brush his hair back from his face.

“Man, this guy’s unbeatable,” Okarun exclaimed over the booming sound of another explosion.

You smiled faintly but your attention didn’t leave Jiji. Somehow, the chaos on the screen and the bickering around you faded into background noise. All you could hear was the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet weight of trust in the way he’d slumped into you without hesitation.

And you didn’t dare move, not wanting to break the fragile warmth blooming in your chest.

Chapter Text

The room was warm with laughter, blankets piled into chaotic nests across the tatami. Momo and Aira were bickering over which DVD to put in next, one of Seiko’s old romances or an action movie. While Okarun still argued that they had to watch at least one horror movie as it was the only proper genre for a sleepover.

None of them even aware in the slightest of your own growing predicament, which was Jiji now sleeping peacefully on your lap.

You glanced down at him. His hair was a mess against your legs, his expression soft in sleep, like a boy who’d finally stopped carrying the tension he always wore. An oversized cat, you thought. Too tall, too heavy and yet somehow fitting perfectly on your lap.

Up ahead, Momo’s voice cut sharp through the haze. “Fine! We’ll watch Okarun’s stupid horror if you both shut up already!”

Aira groaned. Okarun cheered. The screen flickered to life, throwing the room in pale light.

The movie started, voices in the room finally settling as the opening credits rolled. In your corner of blankets, you sat still, careful not to disturb Jiji’s slumber. His breathing had evened out, warm against your lap, his arms still loosely draped around your waist.

For a long moment, you just watched him. His face was softer in sleep, the usual brightness dimmed into something fragile. A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead and before you could second guess the impulse, you reached down and brushed it back. Your fingers lingered, idly stroking through his hair in slow, gentle passes.

Jiji shifted at the touch, his brow smoothing, his body curling closer. A small murmur left him, half dream, half instinct as he nuzzled deeper against your lap like he’d found the safest place in the world.

Your chest warmed. Whatever lines blurred between Jiji and the yokia that sometimes stirred within him, right now it didn’t matter. He was simply here, resting and you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but let him stay.

So you did. Stroking his hair, letting him breathe easy and holding the moment as though it were something fragile, too precious to break.

But then, something shifted.

“…Warm…”

The voice wasn’t Jiji’s. It was quieter, deeper, a half dream murmur that made your chest tighten. Evil Eye.

Before you could react, his arms moved sluggishly, stretching out like he was still caught in sleep. One hand slid against the blankets, the other looping lazily until both were wrapped around your waist. The grip wasn’t tight, nothing like his usual force. It was the weighty, unthinking hold of someone who didn’t want to be left alone.

Your breath caught. You knew it wasn’t just Jiji in that gesture. The yokai was there too, clinging in his own way, hiding his loneliness behind a sleepy murmur.

No one noticed the quiet in the back corner, where Jiji, no, Jiji and Evil Eye both curled close around you, holding on as though the warmth itself might vanish if he let go.

The movie’s volume dipped into the background hum, laughter and commentary from Momo and Aira bubbling up every so often. Okarun was half arguing about a plot hole when Momo suddenly pointed over.

“Oi, look at lover boy,” she whispered, her grin sharp as she noticed Jiji’s head in your lap.

Aira leaned forward, squinting. “Wait-what’s with the…shimmer?”

Sure enough, Jiji’s body gave off a faint, flickering light. For the briefest heartbeat, the sharp, sinister outline of Evil Eye’s form rippled across his frame before fading back into Jiji’s peaceful face. The cycle repeated, a gentle glow, shadow, then calm. Like both halves were dreaming at once.

“Weird.” Okarun muttered, tilting his head. “Kinda like a lava lamp.”

The group snickered but their laughter was cut short when you lifted a finger to your lips, shushing them quickly. They shot a quiet glance down at Jiji, still curled up, still breathing steadily against you. One wrong noise, one wrong laugh and who knew which half of him might wake?

“Don’t,” You whispered firmly, fingers still brushing through his hair. “Just let him rest.”

Momo’s grin softened and even Aira and Okarun settled down at that. The room eased back into the glow of the TV, the group stealing glances every now and then, whispering low so as not to break the fragile calm.

And you stayed still, steady, holding both sides of Jiji in your lap as though guarding something precious.

Chapter Text

The movie droned on, light from the TV flickering over the tangle of blankets, pillows, and half finished snacks. Conversation had ebbed into yawns and mumbled half thoughts until, one by one, the group gave in to sleep.

Aira sprawled on her side, clutching a pillow like it was a life raft. Okarun had slumped back against the wall, mouth open as soft snores filled the room. Momo, curled in a nest of blankets, had fallen asleep mid-commentary, the remote still dangling from her hand.

Jiji remained nestled on your lap, even with you now asleep slumped over. Your head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his side.

His body had stopped shimmering for the moment, both halves, boy and yokai, quiet at last. He was still dreaming but his arms remained loosely wrapped around your waist, as though he was afraid to let go even in sleep.

The quiet creak of the sliding door stirred the stillness. Seiko peeked in, her sharp eyes sweeping over the room. A smile tugged at her lips as she spotted the pile of sleeping teenagers sprawled across her floor, the movie still playing on low.

“Good grief,” she whispered under her breath, half amused, half fond.

Her gaze lingered a little longer on the you and Jiji before she shook her head with a soft chuckle. She slid the door shut again, letting them keep their peace.

The movie played on, washing the room in muted colors, while the group, together, safe and tangled in each other’s presence, slept through the night.

Chapter Text

It started small.

You were sitting with Jiji after school in Seiko’s living room, homework spread out across the table. He was halfway through a story about Momo’s latest antics when it happened, his voice slipped.

Not cracked. Not stuttered. Slipped.

One word in his usual cheerful lilt, the next dipped low, sharp edged and resonant in a way that made your skin prickle. Evil Eye.

“…and then she almost dropped the-ridiculous box-on Okarun’s head,” Jiji said, except the ridiculous box didn’t sound like Jiji’s voice at all. It was darker, layered, like another voice spoke at the same time.

You blinked, unsure if you’d imagined it. “Uh…Jiji?”

He faltered, blinking fast, scratching at the back of his neck. “Huh? What’s wrong?” His tone was bright again but his eyes flickered uneasy, like he knew.

It happened twice more before dinner, each time quicker, less noticeable. A stray phrase, a sharper turn of tone, like Evil Eye was weaving into Jiji’s words without taking over.

And then, as you both sat on the porch later that night, it came crashing in full.

You had been laughing at something dumb Jiji said when his expression shifted mid-laugh. His mouth kept moving but his eyes burned violet and the voice that came out was not his own.

“You smile at me like that and you expect me not to want you?”

The air went still.

Jiji’s entire body stiffened, his eyes widening as though he had heard it too. He slapped a hand over his mouth, color flooding his cheeks. “W-wait, I didn’t-I didn’t say that!”

But he had.

Your pulse kicked up, heart racing as you stared at him. “Jiji…that wasn’t-?”

“That wasn’t me!” He shot up, pacing fast, fingers tangling in his hair. His voice cracked between his usual tone and that heavier rumble, like both were fighting for space. “I didn’t mean, I don’t-ugh, dammit!”

You stood slowly, careful not to spook him further. “Then who did?”

Silence. Just Jiji’s uneven breathing, his hands clenched tight at his sides.

He swallowed hard. “…Evil Eye.” His voice was almost a whisper. “It was him. He-he says things sometimes, things I’d never…things I…” He trailed off, face burning. “Things I don’t know if they’re mine or his.”

You stepped closer, soft but steady. “Jiji, it doesn’t matter if it’s him or you. It still came from you. Maybe both parts of you.”

He froze. The words landed heavy, like they’d struck something deep he wasn’t ready to face. His lips parted but no sound came out.

You smiled gently, reaching for his hand before he could retreat. “It’s messy, yeah. But I’m not afraid of messy. Not with you.”

Jiji’s chest rose sharp, shaky, his hand trembling in yours. The silence stretched, heavy and unfortunately, awkward. His usual easy grin was nowhere to be found, instead, he looked cornered, like a boy caught between two mirrors reflecting truths he didn’t want to see.

Finally, he pulled his hand back, rubbing at his face with a groan. “This is the worst. Seriously, the worst. I-I can’t believe he said that. To you.” His voice pitched high in embarrassment, then dropped again, faintly resonant, “You wanted to hear it.”

Your eyes widened at the subtle echo. “Jiji…”

“See?!” He threw his hands up, pacing. “He’s in my head all the time now, blurting out crap I didn’t-I mean-ugh!” He stopped, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead like he could push Evil Eye back down by force.

You took a slow step forward towards him, grounding. “Maybe it’s not ‘crap,’ Jiji. Maybe it’s just things you’re not ready to say out loud.”

He froze, shoulders tightening. “Don’t. Don’t say that. Because if that’s true, then…” His throat bobbed, words dying in his mouth. He shook his head hard, backing toward the porch door. “Forget it. Just-pretend none of this happened, okay?”

Your chest ached but you didn’t let him run this time. You reached out, catching his sleeve. “No. I won’t pretend. You asked me to be honest with you, remember? So I am. And I want the same from you, even if it’s messy. Even if you’re scared.”

Jiji’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered between your face and the hand on his sleeve, caught in a war between wanting to bolt and wanting to stay. Evil Eye’s presence buzzed faintly around the edges of his expression, like the yokai was watching too, waiting.

Slowly, the fight drained out of him. His shoulders slumped and he muttered, almost too soft to hear, “I don’t hate it. When he says stuff like that. That’s the problem.”

Your grip softened but you didn’t let go. “Then maybe it’s not a problem. Maybe it’s just…you. Both of you.”

For the first time all evening, Jiji looked at them directly. Really looked. And though his ears burned red, though his words still stumbled, there was no mistaking the flicker of truth in his eyes.

“…You’re gonna be the end of me.” he whispered.

But he didn’t pull away.

The words hung between you, fragile and raw, like glass on the verge of shattering. Jiji looked like he regretted saying them the instant they left his mouth, eyes darting away as though afraid of what expression he might see on your face.

But instead of laughter or rejection, he felt the tug of your hand gently pulling him back.

You guided him down to sit on the porch steps, your hand steady in his, even when his nerves twitched to bolt. For a long moment, you didn’t speak. The night air wrapped around you, cool and quiet, broken only by the distant chirps of crickets.

Finally, you tilted your head toward him, voice soft. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just…stay. That’s enough.”

Jiji’s chest rose and fell in a shaky breath. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“It isn’t,” you admitted, a wry smile touching yout lips. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The simple word ‘together’ lodged itself in his chest, loosening the knot that had been sitting there for weeks. He let out a short, uneven laugh, half relief, half disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yeah, you’ve told me before.”

His body was stiff, restless, unsure, then, almost against his own will, it shifted closer until his shoulder brushed against yours. The contact was barely there, tentative and feather light. Still, it felt like a promise.

Neither moved away.

You leaned into him slightly, your eyes gazing up at the stars that peeked between the eaves of Seiko’s house. “I missed this,” you murmured. “Just sitting here. Just you being you.”

Jiji followed your gaze but his head eventually tipped sideways, resting against your shoulder. His voice was quieter now but steadier. “Yeah. Me too.”

And for once, there was no interruption, no echo of Evil Eye crowding his words. Just Jiji.

You let your head rest lightly against his hair, choosing not to break the fragile peace. The porch creaked beneath you, the night carried on and in that small, stolen moment, the chaos of yokai and aliens felt a world away.

Chapter Text

Seiko clattered through the front door, a burlap wrapped bundle under her arm. “Hey, Kids. Don’t mind the bag, it's for a client.”

The group was gathered in the living room, snacks and soda strewn across the table. Jiji perked up first. “Uh…why is it moving?”

The bundle twitched.

“Don’t worry about that,” Seiko said with a grin, plopping it onto the floor. “Just a little yokai squatter. Barely has any bite. Honestly, a piece of cake to get rid of.”

When she unwrapped it, the “object” turned out to be an old lacquered hand mirror, the glass spiderwebbed with cracks. The reflection shimmered unnaturally, rippling as if it were water.

You subconsciously leaned forward, curious but also cautious. “Seiko…that doesn’t look harmless.”

But before Seiko could respond, Jiji stiffened. The mirror’s surface pulsed and suddenly his shadow stretched unnaturally behind him, sharper, darker. His usual cheerful voice carried a new edge as he smirked. “Oh? Finally, someone with a bit of taste brings me something worth my time.”

The others froze. That wasn’t just Jiji. That was Evil Eye’s tone, smug, commanding but too smooth, too casual, as though the boundary between them had thinned.

You reached out quickly, grabbing his sleeve. “Jiji, don’t-”

He blinked, visibly shaken, like he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. “I-I didn’t mean to-” His voice wavered, then snapped back into the same confident tone, eyes glowing faintly as he turned toward the mirror. “Heh. Finally, someone recognizes the king of chaos when they see him.”

The mirror giggled. A warped childlike laugh bubbled from the cracks. “Play with us! Stir things up! We’ll make such wonderful trouble together!”

Seiko sighed, scratching her head. “Ah. Minor possession spirit. Knew it.”

Momo immediately grabbed a charm paper from a side table. “Knew it, my butt! You just invited a gremlin into the house!”

Meanwhile, you had both hands on Jiji’s shoulders now, grounding him as his aura flickered between his normal warmth and Evil Eye’s heavier energy. He looked at you desperately, half-pleading. “I don’t…I don’t know if it’s me talking or him right now.”

The mirror giggled again, a hundred little voices overlapping, “Don’t fight it. You like power, don’t you?”

Evil Eye’s presence stirred, loud enough that Jiji heard it inside his head this time.

“Well? Are you really going to deny what we both want?”

You tightened your grip. “Hey. You’re still Jiji. But if Evil Eye comes out, it’ll be ok. I know how to handle him now.”

And slowly, shakily, his smirk melted back into a nervous laugh. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

The mirror hissed in frustration, its voice warping into a tantrum. “Booooring! Spoilsports!”

Before it could lash out further, Momo slammed her charm against the mirror. A flash of blue light lit up the room and the tiny yokai was sucked back into the cracks with a comical shriek. The object clattered to the tatami, lifeless once more.

Seiko picked it up with a shrug. “Well, that was lively.”

Jiji exhaled shakily, leaning against you with his usually playful demeanor. His voice was softer now, more himself. “Guess I almost…lost it there.”

But you still squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Almost doesn’t count.”

Chapter Text

The mirror had been tucked away in Seiko’s storeroom, covered by a sheet but the house didn’t feel the same. Every now and then, you would catch Jiji’s gaze slipping, his smile a little sharper, his eyes reflecting something…purple.

By the next day, it was obvious something was wrong.

“Why’re people looking at me funny?” Jiji whispered during class, hunched low over his desk.

You leaned closer. “Maybe because you just told the teacher she was ‘wasting her youth pretending to be important.’”

Jiji paled. “I-I did what?!”

“You don’t remember?” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “That wasn’t very Jiji of you. That was…” Your eyes flicked to the shimmer at the edge of his grin. “…more Evil Eye.”

At lunch, the weirdness continued. Jiji kept blurting out things he swore he didn’t mean. Bold, cheeky comments slipped between bites of food.

Later, in the courtyard, the air grew heavy. A flicker of laughter whispered from nowhere, shadows darting at the edge of your vision. The cursed mirror’s influence was spreading. Pencils snapped, soda cans burst, shoes vanished from lockers.

“A poltergeist vibe,” Momo muttered, arms crossed. “It’s the mirror. I told Grandma Seiko not to stash it at home.”

But the worst came when Jiji froze mid-sentence, eyes narrowing with an all too familiar sharpness. Evil Eye’s voice slipped out, rougher than Jiji’s usual tone.

“You keep hovering around me. Feeding me. Touching my hair when I fall asleep.” His mouth curled into a smirk. “Don’t tell me you actually like me.”

Your breath caught. The whole courtyard felt like it tilted. Jiji’s face twisted, realization dawning as if he’d just heard his own voice from a distance.

“Wait-what?! No-I didn’t say that-I mean, I did but I didn’t-!” He looked ready to combust, his hands flailing. “That was him! That wasn’t-ugh!”

You were flustered at this point but trying not to show it, stared at him. Evil Eye’s laugh echoed faintly from Jiji’s throat, smug and lingering.

That night, Seiko finally confirmed it, the minor yokai inside the mirror wasn’t strong enough to cause harm on its own but it was amplifying Evil Eye’s presence. It wanted him to join in its mischief, to embrace chaos instead of balance.

“Thing’s just a pest,” Seiko said, flicking her lighter. “But it’s having fun turning your boy into a walking split personality.”

You glanced at Jiji. He was sitting on the couch, clutching his knees, sulking like a scolded cat. But when your eyes met, you could see it, two flickers of expression overlapping. Jiji’s worry and Evil Eye’s sly amusement.

The overlap was growing.

Chapter Text

Night fell on Seiko’s house and the group camped out in the living room. The cursed mirror leaned against the wall, covered in talismans Seiko slapped on earlier but the air still felt thick like static clinging to everyone’s skin.

“Relax,” Seiko said, lounging with her cigarette. “It’s weak. It just wants attention. Don’t feed it and it’ll wither.”

Her words barely hung in the air before the lights flickered out. Her eyes lingering on the burnt out bulb for a moment before she got to her feet with a graceful stretch. “Hold down the fort for me. I gotta go get something. Just don’t acknowledge it and you’ll be fine. It’s harmless.”

“…Right,” Okarun muttered, deadpan. “Totally harmless.”

Seiko just shrugged on her way out the door.

The moment the door clicked shut a spoon clattered to the floor on its own. Then a pillow smacked Aira in the back of the head. She yelped, spinning around but no one was there.

Soon the room became a playground for invisible hands. Blankets tugged, snacks floated, someone’s phone began blasting tinny idol music without being touched.

“It’s like a bad haunted house,” Momo groaned, ducking as a soda can narrowly missed her head.

Through the madness, Jiji sat stiffly, his body flickering faintly again. Evil Eye’s laugh rattled in his throat but his hands gripped his knees like iron. “It’s egging me on…wants me to join in.” His voice dipped, half his and half not. “…Feels good to cause a little chaos, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare,” You said sharply, scooting closer and placing a hand over his. Your touch grounded him, warm and steady. For a moment the flicker softened, though Jiji wouldn’t meet your eyes.

The yokai wasn’t pleased. A gust of air knocked over the TV remote, switching channels at rapid fire. Horror movies, idol dramas, cooking shows, all blurring together on the screen.

“Guess it wants entertainment,” Momo muttered. “Little pest.”

Suddenly the overhead light flared back on, revealing words scrawled across the fogged-up window in dripping letters,

“STAY. PLAY.”

Everyone went still.

Then, whap!, another pillow smacked Okarun square in the face.

The tension broke as half the group laughed and half shouted, ducking flying objects. The “haunting” had turned into a chaotic game. But you noticed something no one else did, whenever you touched Jiji, grabbing his sleeve, brushing his hand, the shimmer of Evil Eye grew quieter. Almost…soothed.

Which made the yokai’s next trick crueler.

As another pillow flew across the room, Jiji suddenly blurted out in Evil Eye’s rumble,

“Don’t interfere with my human.”

The words froze the air. Jiji’s face went red, his eyes wide. “I-I didn’t say that! That wasn’t me!”

The yokai’s laugh echoed faintly from the mirror. Mischievous. Prying.

Chapter Text

The mirror spirit wasn’t done. Every time the group thought it had settled, another trick followed.

The lights blinked again, plunging the room into shadows just long enough for Aira to yelp when her blanket got yanked away. Okarun shouted at the empty air, flailing wildly at floating snacks and Momo tried to herd everything back into order like a babysitter with too many sugar high kids.

But the spirit had changed targets.

You felt your hair get tugged sharply, like a mischievous child pulling too hard. Then your soda lifted, tilting until cold fizz spilled right onto your lap.

“Hey!” You yelped, standing quickly.

From beside you, Jiji’s head snapped up, pupils glowing faintly violet. Evil Eye’s rumble slipped into his voice before he could stop it,

“I told you not to touch her.”

The lights buzzed. The mirror cracked faintly down the center, like the lesser yokai felt that warning like a whip.

But the tricks didn’t stop. This time, your shoe floated off the floor, dangling in the air before flying across the room. Laughter echoed through the glass.

Jiji shot to his feet, his body shimmering as Evil Eye nearly shoved through. His voice was low, dangerous, rolling like distant thunder.

“You think this is funny?”

The air thickened, the mirror trembling in its frame. For a moment everyone froze, watching Jiji’s outline blur between himself and the yokai.

You stepped closer, laying a hand on his arm before he could lose control completely. “It’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Don’t give it the satisfaction.”

His jaw clenched, every muscle taut but the glow dimmed. Still, his eyes stayed fixed on the mirror, sharp and burning.

Another tug came, this time pulling at your sleeve hard enough that you stumbled.

That was the last straw.

Jiji’s voice dropped, fully Evil Eye’s now, guttural and commanding,

“I said leave her alone.”

The mirror shrieked, the glass vibrating as if the smaller yokai had been scolded like a child. For the first time all night, the tricks stopped cold.

Silence.

The only sound left was your uneven breath and the faint crackle of the TV still paused mid-channel surf.

Momo exhaled slowly, eyeing Jiji warily. “Well…at least he’s consistent.”

Okarun muttered, rubbing his face. “Consistently terrifying.”

Jiji didn’t answer. His glow dimmed back to human again but his hand remained balled in a fist at his side, until you quietly slipped your fingers over his.

Chapter Text

Everyone had barely settled back onto cleaning the mess the ghost had left behind when the mirror began to hum again. A pitchy, whining sound that made rattled teeth.

You groaned, leaning into Jiji’s shoulder. “Oh, come on. Didn’t it get the message?”

It hadn’t.

The glass rippled, glowing faintly and suddenly every pillow in the room shot into the air. Blankets twisted into ropes. Soda cans wobbled and popped their tabs all at once, fizz spraying like fireworks.

Making Jiji’s half changed into Evil Eye a full take over thanks to the cold and sticky soda raining down on the room.

Aira shrieked, ducking under a flying cushion. “It’s trying to bury us alive!”

Okarun scrambled to save the snacks, shouting, “Not the chips! Anything but the chips!”

Momo had a slipper smacked into her face mid-yell.

And right in the center of it, a blanket was yanked clean out from under you, sending you sprawling back onto Evil Eye’s chest.

That was it.

The violet glow flared up in his eyes. Evil Eye’s voice boomed through clenched teeth, reverberating with sheer irritation.

“Enough.”

The mirror spirit cackled, sending one last dramatic flourish of cushions spinning like a tornado.

Without hesitation, Evil Eye reached out, palm glowing and swatted at the mirror like he was smacking a fly.

CRASH!

The glass exploded into a thousand glittering shards, raining harmlessly across the tatami. The whole room went still.

Aira gaped. “Did…did he just…”

“Smack a ghost?” Okarun finished, wide eyed.

Momo found she could only sigh in response. “Unbelievable.”

Evil Eye dusted his hands off like the whole thing was beneath him. His gaze slid back to you, narrowing, as if daring you to comment.

You bit your lip, fighting a laugh. “So…was that, uh, an exorcism technique? Or just pure rage?”

The yokai’s middle eye blinked once, glowing with smug satisfaction. “It was in my way.”

You snorted. “You just wanted peace and quiet.”

He didn’t deny it. He leaned against you without a word, eyes half-lidded. “I get my reward now.”

Okarun threw up his hands. “I can’t believe the big scary Evil Eye just ended a haunting with a slap.”

“Shut up,” came the muffled rumble from Jiji’s chest.

You smiled into the warmth at your side, shaking your head. “Definitely the funniest exorcism I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh crap, Grandma’s gunna be so mad!” Momo shouted.

Chapter Text

You find the first notes tucked neatly in your desk at school, folded squares of paper with delicate handwriting. At first, the words seem innocent, even sweet,

“Your smile makes the room brighter.”
“I’m happy when I see you.”

It’s enough to make your face warm, though you brush it off. A secret admirer wasn’t unusual, not in a high school setting. You slip the note into your bag, choosing not to mention them to Momo, Jiji or anyone else. It was a single note, nothing more.

But the notes didn’t stop. Every day, another one waited, slipped into your desk without fail. They grew less cute, their words…heavier,

“Don’t talk to him. He doesn’t deserve your time.”
“I see you even when you don’t see me.”
“We belong together. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

You start crumpling them up, throwing them away. The warmth you felt at first curdles into unease. Your skin prickles whenever you sit down at your desk.

Then the letters start appearing somewhere else. Every time you pass the last locker in the middle row on the first floor, a slip of folded paper flutters out, even when you try to run past it. You tested it once, walking by without stopping and sure enough, a note drifts to the floor in front of you as if pushed by invisible fingers.

When you unfold it, the handwriting is the same,

“Don’t ignore me.”

That’s when you realize, this isn’t just a secret and very persistent admirer. Someone or something is stalking you.

Chapter Text

You hadn’t planned on saying anything. Not to Momo, not to Jiji and definitely not to Okarun, they’d worry too much. But when the letters followed you home, slipping from between your notebooks even though you were sure you had thrown them away, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

So now you find yourself sitting at Seiko’s low table, the warmth of her tea untouched between your hands.

She watches you with her usual sharp eyes, a cigarette balanced between her fingers. “Spit it out, kid. You’re twitchier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

Your throat feels dry but you reach into your bag and unfold one of the notes. The paper is crisp, the words scrawled in that too neat handwriting,

“I’ll always find you.”

You slide it across the table.

Seiko raises a brow, takes a long drag and exhales before picking it up. She doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t scoff. She just reads it twice, then sets it down carefully.

“How long’s this been going on?”

“…a week,” you admit. “At first they were just…normal. Sweet. But now they’re everywhere. My desk, my locker, even my room.”

Her gaze sharpens. “Room?”

You nod. “I keep throwing them away but they come back. I think…I think it’s not a person.”

There’s a silence, heavy and certain, before Seiko leans back and stubs out her cigarette. Her tone softens, though her eyes stay serious.

“You did the right thing by telling me. Sounds like you’ve got yourself a spirit stalker.” She waves her hand dismissively when you tense. “Don’t worry. A nuisance, not a death sentence. But I’ll need to gather some more information before I can tell you how to handle it.”

For the first time all week, you feel like the weight on your chest eases just a little.

Seiko picks the letter back up, this time holding it closer to her lamp. The paper’s edges shimmer faintly, as if the ink itself doesn’t belong to this world. She clicks her tongue.

“Definitely not human. This reeks of a spirit’s handiwork.”

Your stomach drops, though you had suspected as much. “So…what do we do?”

She slides the letter back toward you, tapping it with a painted nail. “First thing? You don’t carry this alone. The others need to know.”

You stiffen. “No-no, I don’t want to. If I tell them, Jiji will blame himself, Okarun will panic and Momo will…” You trail off, realizing your excuse sounds thin even to you. “I just…I don’t want to worry them.”

Seiko leans forward, her eyes softening in that way they sometimes do when you least expect it. “Listen, kid. Worrying about each other is what friends are supposed to do. You shut them out, you’re robbing them of the chance to stand with you.” She lights another cigarette, smoke curling lazily as she exhales. “Besides, you think those brats haven’t dragged you into their own messes? You’re part of this circle now. They’ll want to help.”

Her words settle into you like a warm weight, grounding and undeniable. You glance down at the letter, still sitting between you on the table, its faint shimmer catching the lamplight.

“Alright,” you murmur, more to yourself than her. “I’ll tell them.”

Seiko smirks faintly, satisfied. “Good. We’ll break it to them together. Better they hear it straight than find out the hard way.”

You nod, feeling the knot of tension in your chest ease just a little. For the first time since the notes began appearing, you don’t feel so alone.

Chapter Text

Dinner at Seiko’s was usually a lively affair, the kind that filled every corner of the house with laughter, clinking dishes and Okarun’s endless chatter about UFO sightings. Tonight was no exception. The savory scent of grilled meat drifted through the air and Seiko hummed to herself as she stirred miso soup on the stove.

You sat between Jiji and Momo, half listening as the two argued about the best way to fight yokai in close quarters. Jiji’s grin was easy, that usual brightness in his eyes making it hard to believe that just a few months ago he’d been haunted by something far darker.

For a little while, it felt normal, safe.

Then Seiko spoke. “Alright, you brats. Before dessert, there’s something we need to talk about.”

The room quieted. Even Okarun stopped mid-bite, cheeks full of rice.

Momo frowned. “What’s up, Granny?”

Seiko nodded toward you. “Your friend here’s been getting love letters.”

Jiji blinked, chopsticks freezing halfway to his mouth. “Eh? Love letters?”

You winced at how casual she made it sound. “It’s not like that,” you said quickly. “They’re…not normal letters.”

The table leaned in collectively, curiosity sparking. You reached into your bag, pulling out one of the notes Seiko had insisted you keep. The moment you placed it on the table, the faint shimmer along its edges caught the warm kitchen light, a flicker that didn’t belong in the real world.

Okarun’s eyes widened. “That’s definitely cursed.”

“Ya think?” Seiko said dryly, tapping the edge of her cigarette into an ashtray. “Been analyzing it myself. Spirit residue all over. Something’s fixated on them.”

Jiji frowned deeply, his cheerful demeanor dimming. “How long has this been happening?”

You hesitated, then sighed. “A few weeks. They started off kind of sweet but then they got weird. Obsessive. I threw them out but…they keep coming back.”

The group exchanged glances, that mix of concern and readiness they always wore before something strange.

Momo crossed her arms. “So we’re dealing with a creepy loser spirit.”

“More like a lovesick one,” Seiko said. “But it’s gaining traction. The letters have a pulse now. Which means the thing’s getting stronger.”

A tense quiet settled over the table. Then Okarun, ever the optimist, forced a smile. “Well, at least it’s not another alien invasion, right?”

Jiji didn’t laugh. His gaze flickered between you and the shimmering letter, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Don’t worry,” he said, tone uncharacteristically steady. “We’ll take care of it. Whatever it is…it won’t touch you.”

The protective edge in his voice made you look away, heart thudding harder than you wanted to admit.

Seiko stubbed out her cigarette and stood. “Good. You’ll all need to stay alert. Whatever’s writing these is attached to something close by, maybe even the school.” She gave you a look that was both reassuring and knowing. “Tomorrow, we start digging.”

Dinner resumed after that but the easy laughter didn’t quite return. Even as the others tried to lighten the mood, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the letters weren’t finished, that whatever was watching you was listening now, waiting.

Chapter Text

The lights in Momo’s glowed dimly, their soft amber hue swallowed by the heavy shadows that gathered along the walls. The cicadas outside were relentless, their hum threading through the open window and into the still air of the room. Tatami mats creaked faintly beneath the weight of two futons, laid side by side.

You and Momo lay bundled in blankets, the air heavy with the comforting scent of laundry detergent and faint incense Seiko had burned before bed, to keep the spirits at bay, she’d said with a wink.

A half eaten bag of shrimp chips sat abandoned between you and an empty soda can gleamed under the low light.

Momo had been talking big all evening, her energy defiant as ever.

“If that creep shows up,” she’d said, clutching the flashlight like a weapon, “I’ll kick its ass myself. Nobody messes with my friend.”

You’d laughed but the sound came out thinner than you wanted. The letters had been gnawing at the edge of your thoughts all day.

Now, wrapped up in a borrowed blanket beside Momo, you stared at the faint glow of the nightlight. The silence between cicada cries felt too deep. Too long.

From the next room, the boys’ voices were faint, Okarun’s high and animated, Jiji’s softer, easygoing. A normal sound. Safe.

Until something rustled.

A whisper of paper brushing tatami.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Momo…?”

The other girl stirred, groaning. “Wh-what? It’s fine, it’s probably Turbo-”

“There’s no cat,” you whispered.

You both froze when the sound came again, flutter, scrape, flutter.

Momo grabbed the flashlight, its beam cut through the dark, landing on a single folded note lying just under the door.

Your stomach dropped. The paper looked different this time, old. Stained along the edges, the ink faintly visible through the thin layer like veins under skin.

“That-wasn’t there before,” you breathed.

Momo’s expression hardened immediately, sleep forgotten. “Stay here.”

“Momo, wait-”

But she was already out of her futon, feet padding softly across the tatami. Her fingers hovered over the note.

Before she could touch it, it moved.

The letter slid across the floor with a sharp hiss, as though someone invisible had yanked it out of reach. Momo jumped back with a curse.

Every hair on your body stood on end.

“Momo…” you whispered, barely daring to breathe.

Momo’s glare shot to the door. “Alright, that’s it. I don’t care if it’s 2 a.m. or not, I’m kicking whatever ghost’s ass is doing this.”

Before you could stop her, she yanked open the door and stormed into the hallway, flashlight slicing through the dark.

From the boys’ room came a startled thump, followed by Okarun’s voice, muffled but alarmed.

“Momo?! What’s going on?”

Then Jiji’s lower voice, sleep rough and confused. “Hey-what happened? Is everyone-”

And beneath it, came the unmistakable voice of Evil Eye.

Deep. Resonant. Like thunder under breath, as he cut Jiji’s voice off with a statement that alarmed you.

“Something’s here.”

The air shifted. It was almost imperceptible, the subtle drop in temperature, the way the shadows around the doorway seemed to bend toward you.

Your breath fogged faintly in the air.

The letter on the floor began to tremble. Once. Twice. The paper curled inward like it was breathing.

Then, it burst into ash.

You flinched back, watching as gray flecks drifted across the tatami like falling snow.

From the hallway, Momo’s voice rose again, sharp and furious, echoing down the corridor.

“Show yourself!”

But there was no answer.

Only the faint hum of power that made the walls creak with a low sound.

Something was awake now.

The house was too quiet after that first letter turned to ash.

You hadn’t realized how loud your heartbeat was until it filled the silence between the faint hum of the mimi refrigerator and Momo’s slow, angry breathing. She was standing in the hallway, flashlight beam sweeping the floor like a sword, muttering curses that could probably banish half the spirit world on their own.

Seiko shuffled in next, wrapped in an oversized cardigan, hair sticking up in an awkward fashion.

“I swear, if this is another one of your ‘it’s fine, we can handle it ourselves’ moments, I’m calling a priest,” she whispered.

You managed a nervous half laugh. “Would a priest even come out here at two a.m.?”

Before Seiko could answer, there was a low thud from the boys’ room.

Then came the unmistakable voice, irritated, older, and thoroughly unimpressed.

“Oh, for crying out loud, can’t a grandma get a moment’s peace?”

Movement from the doorway caught your eye before Turbo Granny’s lucky cat vessel walked casually into the room. Her tail twitched irritably as she looked around before sauntering up to you.

“You humans have the worst timing,” she grumbled, voice clearly unimpressed. “It’s barely the witching hour and already someone’s stirring up love curses? Amateurs.”

Momo groaned. “Granny, not the time.”

“It’s always the time,” she shot back from beside you. Even though you felt incredibly nervous you felt thankful that the white cat had decided to go into the room with you. Her paw pressed against your leg as if to of some sort of support.

“So you’re the little sweetheart who caught the spirit’s eye, huh? Tch. You’ve got that ‘haunted magnet’ energy. Spirits love that type.” You looked down at her, the yellow shine of her eyes in the dark greeting you.

Your stomach twisted. “It’s not-I didn’t-“

“Oh, relax,” Turbo Granny said, waving her other paw. “Happens all the time. Love struck ghost gets fixated, writes a few letters, probably tried to crawl outta the locker for a dramatic confession/”

“Wait.” Seiko cut in, frowning. “How do you know it’s from a locker?”

Turbo Granny’s grin faltered. “…I didn’t?”

Everyone stared at her.

“Granny,” Momo hissed. “Don’t start.”

Before she could reply, the lights flickered. The air went suddenly cold, enough to make your breath fog in front of you again. The faint scent of rust filled your nose, like blood, faint but distinct.

And then you saw it.

A letter, lying in the doorway again. Only this time, it wasn’t folded. It was spread wide open on the floorboards, the words scrawled in a deep, dark red.

The handwriting was familiar. You’d seen it dozens of times.

But the ink wasn’t dry.

The letters moved.

They pulsed, bleeding across the page as though the paper itself was alive.

“You shouldn’t have thrown my love away.”

Your throat went dry. “Momo…” and you couldn’t help but crouch down to pick up the white lucky cat doll that Turbo Granny was housed in. Oddly she didn’t protest, just urged you to move out into the hallway with the others.

Before you could say another word, the windows rattled. Something slammed against the front door, once, twice, the sound wet and angry.

Turbo Granny’s smirk vanished.

“Well, crap,” she muttered. “Guess lover boy found us.”

Okarun stumbled into the hall, hair sticking up, wearing one sock and holding a salt shaker like a weapon. “Wh-what’s happening now?”

Jiji followed, calm but bleary eyed, until the air around him shifted.

His pupils dilated, glowing faintly purple.

Evil Eye’s voice, colder and far older, rolled out like thunder breaking across water.

“Pest.”

A strange hum filled the hallway, papers and curtains lifting slightly in the windless air.

The letter on the floor curled up, burning without flame and the scent that followed wasn’t paper or smoke. It was flowers. Sweet and rotten at once.

You stumbled backward as thin trails of crimson light crept across the floor, spidering outward like cracks in glass.

From somewhere beyond, a voice, soft, trembling and wrong, whispered through the wood.

“You read my letters…didn’t you?”

The whisper came again, down below on the first floor, closer now.

“I wrote them for you…”

Turbo Granny glared from within your tightening grip, her tone deadly serious now.

“Everyone step back. That ain’t no regular stalker spirit. It’s a clinger. They attach through sentiment.”

Momo’s jaw clenched. “Meaning?”

“Meaning it doesn’t want to hurt them,” she said, nodding toward you. “It wants to belong to them.”

Evil Eye’s purple light flared in Jiji’s eyes, his voice overlapping with the boy’s.

“Not while I breathe.”

The house groaned under a new weight, like something unseen was pressing against its walls.

Seiko held up her charm bracelet, muttering a prayer under her breath. “This is escalating fast. We need a re-seal-”

But before she could finish, every door in the house slammed shut.

The room plunged into darkness.

And faintly, almost lovingly from just behind the door came the sound of another letter being slid through the gap in the floorboards.

The house shook like it was breathing.

A pressure rolled through the hall, invisible, heavy and suffocating. The air smelled of old paper and wilted flowers. Momo threw her arm out in front of you, eyes glowing faintly with spiritual light, while Seiko snapped her talisman case open with practiced ease.

“Okarun, perimeter seal! Momo, salt line, now!”

“On it!”

The blur of movement that followed was pure chaos. Momo skidded across the tatami, spilling a crooked circle of salt. Okarun, darted through the walls like a streak of ghostly lightning, pressing charms to doorframes as he went.

Turbo Granny hissed in your arms about having told the group to get better locks or seals within the home.

“Kind of hard when the stalker’s invisible!” Momo snapped back.

The lightbulbs overhead burst, showering sparks. Every letter that had ever been written for you, hundreds, thousands, all the same folded parchment, began pouring out from under shut doors, spiraling through the air like a paper storm.

The wind howled through the hall, tearing across the salt circle. The letters cut into your skin like thin, dry blades, whispering your name in a hundred trembling voices.

“You read me…You kept me…You loved me…”

You pressed up against a wall, as Turbo Granny’s soft paws covered your ears, your heart hammering. “I never-! I didn’t-!”

Jiji’s body jerked forward before he could stop himself. The glow returned, bright, furious, neon purple spreading from his throat to his fingertips. The voice that came out was layered, his and not his.

“You dare touch what is mine?”

The walls shuddered. Evil Eye’s energy pulsed outward, cutting through the wave of letters with invisible claws. Each torn sheet burned into white blue ash before fading completely.

Seiko ducked her head as the light passed. “Evil Eye! Don’t destroy the seals!”

But he didn’t listen. The yokai’s rage was palpable, protective and ancient. Every pulse of his power made the temperature drop further, until the air began to frost.

“Hey! Easy there, Cyclops!” Turbo Granny yelled. “We’re banishing the freak, not nuking the house!”

The spirit’s voice rose, louder now, fractured through the walls.

“You said you’d read me. You said you’d keep me.”

Your breath caught. The words felt wrong, not spoken but remembered. They echoed in your chest as if the ghost had stitched itself into your memory.

Momo grabbed your arm. “Stay in the circle. Don’t let it in.”

But it was already too late. The floorboards beneath you warped, bubbling as red letters crawled across them, the same handwriting from before, only larger. The planks splintered. A shape began to rise, paper twisted into a figure with no face, only eyes made of smeared ink.

“Mine,” it whispered.

That was all Evil Eye needed.

The air exploded.

Every object in the room flew outward in a storm of static and debris as the purple flare of his aura filled the space. Jiji’s body blurred with movement, the yokai’s power surging outward, wrapping the faceless spirit in bands of silent screaming faces that pulsed like chains.

Evil Eye’s hand closed around the spirit’s neck or what passed for it and his voice came like thunder, layered and furious.

“You mistake affection for ownership. You mistake longing for love. Be gone.”

The spirit screamed, a sound that wasn’t heard so much as felt, vibrating your bones. The letters disintegrated, burning from the edges inward until the last one collapsed into ash. The final whisper died with it.

Silence.

Then a dull thump as Evil Eye dropped to one knee, panting, the glow already fading.

Momo and Okarun moved instantly, stepping in to check you, to check Jiji, to make sure the circle held.

Turbo Granny jumped from your arms and walked up beside Seiko, her expression surprisingly soft. “Not bad, for a hothead.”

Seiko exhaled, half laughing, half shaking. “You call that not bad? He nearly tore the veil open.”

Momo crouched by you, whispering, “Hey…you okay?”

You nodded, though your throat still felt tight. “Yeah. Just…tired.”

Jiji’s eyes were back to normal when he looked at you, wide, confused and heavy with guilt. “Did…it hurt you?”

You shook your head quickly. “You saved me.”

He hesitated, words trembling on his tongue. “I-it wasn’t-it wasn’t just him that wanted to.”

The silence that followed was brief but full, too many unspoken things tangled in the air.

Turbo Granny walked toward one of the shattered doorways and gave a lazy salute. “Well, stalker boy’s dust for now, seals are fried and my beauty sleep’s ruined. I’d say that’s a productive night. Who’s making breakfast?”

Momo groaned, dropping her head against your shoulder. “You are such a menace, Granny.”

And just like that, the tension broke into something lighter, even with exhaustion weaving through as the house settled again.

Outside, the dawn light crept across the yard, catching the glint of the last few ashes drifting away like snow.

Chapter Text

The house smelled faintly of smoke and salt.

The wards Seiko hung to cleanse the air fluttered in the soft morning breeze, glowing weakly against the pale light that spilled through the open window.

Most of the group had crashed where they fell.

Momo was still sprawled under a blanket beside Okarun, snoring softly. Turbo Granny sat by the front door, muttering about “idiots and their fragile houses.”

Jiji was awake.

He sat beside you quietly, a cup of tea cooling in his hands. The fatigue hadn’t fully left him yet, his posture was slouched, shoulders curved inward but his eyes, still rimmed faintly with a purple glow from Evil Eye’s presence, were fixed on you.

You stirred beneath the blanket Seiko had laid over you sometime during the early morning, your voice rough from sleep. “…You’ve been up long?”

Jiji smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth soft. “A bit. Didn’t feel like sleeping again yet.” He glanced at the others before adding, quieter, “Wanted to make sure you were really okay.”

You shifted to sit up, the blanket pooling at your waist. “I told you. I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but sometimes people say that when they’re not.”

His tone wasn’t teasing. It was light but honest and it carried the kind of care that sat deep in his chest. He looked at his hands for a long moment before setting the cup down.

“Evil Eye was…” He trailed off, searching for the right word. “…angry. I could feel it boiling under my skin and I knew if he wanted to, he could have gone too far. But-”

He glanced up at you then, eyes earnest. “He didn’t. Not this time. He just wanted you safe.”

You blinked, startled by the warmth in his tone. “You’re not upset with him?”

He shook his head slowly. “No. I used to be but…I don’t think it’s like that anymore. Maybe it never really was. He’s…part of me. And last night, it felt like we both wanted the same thing.”

The faint smile returned, tired but genuine. “To keep you from getting hurt.”

Something about the way he said it, soft, unguarded, made your chest tighten. You weren’t sure what to say, so you simply reached for the tea sitting between you, your fingers brushing his briefly. He didn’t pull away.

The contact lingered longer than necessary, quiet and steady.

Outside, the wind rattled the charms.

You finally spoke, keeping your voice low so as not to wake the others. “Thank you. For saving me. Both of you.”

Jiji laughed quietly under his breath. “Guess it’s a first for him, huh?”

You smiled at that but then you noticed how his gaze softened again. His hand moved slightly, hesitant at first before resting over yours where it still cupped the tea.

“Still,” he said, voice gentler now, “I don’t ever want you to be scared like that again. Not if I can help it.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the hush of morning and the sound of Seiko moving somewhere in the kitchen.

Then Jiji leaned back, breaking the touch only to reach over and adjust the edge of the blanket that had slipped from your shoulders. “You should rest more. You didn’t sleep much.”

“Neither did you,” you said softly.

He grinned, the brightness of it returning for a fleeting second. “Yeah, well…I’ll sleep once I’m sure you’re okay.”

A faint pulse of purple flickered beneath Jiji’s skin, as if the yokai silently agreed.

His words carried the warmth of something new forming between you, fragile but growing.

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since the night the spirit was expelled from Seiko’s house.

The house had been cleansed, charms replaced, and even Turbo Granny had grumbled her approval before curling up to sleep on her favorite pillow, muttering something about “brats attracting freaks like moths.”

Life had started to feel ordinary again.

Or close enough.

Momo had convinced everyone that the worst was over. Jiji had gone back to walking you home after club, pretending it was no big deal, while Evil Eye’s presence lingered quieter, less invasive, more…observant.

But there were moments, small ones, that made you pause.

The soft hum of a locker door.
A faint scent of iron and lilies in the hall.

And once, when you passed the stairwell, a reflection in the glass that wasn’t your own.

At first, you thought it was just leftover nerves. Spirits didn’t always go quietly, Seiko had said. Sometimes, echoes remained, stray energy with nowhere to go.

But then, one morning, a letter slipped from between your textbooks.

Not the fragile, old fashioned notes from before.
This one was scrawled in a jagged hand, ink smeared, rushed, angry.

‘You let them chase me away. But I never left.’
‘You’re the only one who ever looked at me.’

It wasn’t just coming back.

It remembered you.

The letter trembled in your hands.

Ink smudged beneath your thumb, the jagged handwriting almost pulsing where it pressed into the paper, like the words were still alive, writhing to be read again.

You didn’t bother pretending this was nothing.
Not this time.

By the time the final bell rang, your pulse had settled into a steady, determined rhythm.

You found Momo outside the school gates, telling her about how you had gotten a new letter. Being ever the protective friend she had taken your hand and walked you all the way back to her Grandmother’s temple.

Seiko was already outside, sitting on her porch, cigarette between her fingers, she wore a look like she knew someone was about to bring her bad news. Like she already knew.
“Don’t tell me,” she muttered, exhaling a slow curl of smoke. “You got another one.”

You nodded, pulling the folded page from your bag.
Her eyes softened, not surprised, just…resigned.

“Smart of you to come to me first,” she said, taking the note between two fingers. She studied it with a professional sort of calm, the kind she used when something wasn’t right. “This ink isn’t normal. It’s binding residue. The kind that shows up when a spirit’s tethering itself to an object or-”

“-a place?” Momo offered.

Seiko met your gaze.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

She exhaled again, slower this time, tapping ash into the breeze. “You know the drill. We’re telling the others. I know you don’t want to drag them into it but it’s already here, sweetheart. Might as well face it together.”

There was no argument left in you.

Just a tired, wary nod.

By evening, the group had gathered around Seiko’s kitchen table again.

Steam rose from the tea she’d brewed, strong enough to make Aira wrinkle her nose. Okarun leaned forward, elbows braced, reading the letter for the third time while Momo’s expression darkened beside him.

“This thing again?” Aira muttered. “Didn’t we beat it already?”

“We did,” Seiko said. “But apparently, it was just the extension of the spirit’s will in the house that night.”
Jiji’s fingers tapped restlessly against the tabletop. His voice was quieter than usual. “It’s after them again, isn’t it?”

You hesitated before nodding.

The words didn’t come easily. “It says it never left.”
A silence settled, not fearful but protective.
You could feel it.

Then Momo sat back, cracking her knuckles. “Guess we’re doing this again, huh? Fine by me.”
Aira offered an easy smile despite the tension. “Yeah, except this time, we don’t let the creep make it past us.”

And Jiji, quiet, thoughtful Jiji, looked at you, something sharper flickering in his eyes. “We’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

He said it softly but there was something beneath it.
A faint shimmer in his gaze, like the edges of Evil Eye watching from below the surface, silent agreement or maybe warning.

Chapter Text

Seiko’s house smelled faintly of sandalwood and burned salt.

The letter sat open on the low table, weighed down by a ring of talismans and half burnt incense sticks that hissed softly as they burned.

Seiko had her sleeves rolled up, a string of protection beads glinting at her wrist as she traced the paper’s edges with one fingertip. “There’s residue,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Not your typical curse binding, either. Something older, more personal.”

Turbo Granny, perched at the table’s edge, tilted her head.

“Personal? What, like some love struck yokai’s diary?” Her voice rasped from the doll’s painted grin.
Seiko shot her a look but didn’t disagree. “That’s the thing. The spiritual tether’s unstable. It’s emotional, fixation, longing, obsession. This wasn’t meant as a curse at first.”

The doll’s tail twitched. “Tch. Then it turned sour.”

“Exactly.”

The paper fluttered faintly though no wind moved in the room.

The ink shimmered a dull red before fading back to black. Seiko frowned. “Still alive,” she muttered.

“And reaching.”

The lucky cat’s ears pricked. “That thing’s got its eye on them again, doesn’t it?”

Seiko didn’t answer but her jaw tightened.

Meanwhile, down the hall, the living room had transformed into a makeshift camp of futons and blankets.

Okarun sprawled across one side with a pillow half over his face, Aira was flipping through a magazine upside down, Momo sat cross legged with her phone display being one of the cursed letter photos saved in her gallery.

Jiji was unusually quiet beside you, his gaze distant, thoughtful.

“This is killing me,” Momo said suddenly, throwing her phone down. “Sitting here waiting for Seiko to tell us what we already know, that this spirit’s bad news.”

Aira glanced over. “You’re not seriously suggesting we go to the school now, are you?”

“Why not?” Momo crossed her arms. “If that freak is tied to that place, we find out where and handle it before it gets stronger.”

Okarun groaned. “That’s literally exactly what Seiko told us not to do.”

Momo smirked. “And?”

You sighed, knowing that look on her face, the one that meant she’d already made up her mind.
“We’d have to be careful,” you murmured, though a small part of you felt the same itch to act.

Jiji finally looked up, eyes catching yours. “If we go,” he said quietly, “we don’t split up.”

The mood shifted subtly. Even Okarun didn’t argue with that.

Momo grinned, pushing to her feet. “Then it’s settled. Midnight field trip.”

As the others began gathering flashlights and collecting other things of importance, you caught Jiji’s faint, crooked smile, that same mix of nerves and protectiveness that made your chest tighten.
Outside, the wind pressed against the windows like something listening.

And back in the study, Seiko froze mid-chant as the ink on the letter began to spread, black lines spidering across the paper, tracing out the faint shape of a locker door.

Chapter Text

Sneaking out of Seiko’s house should have been easy.

Should have.

It started with Momo confidently whispering, “Okay, everyone be quiet,” right before tripping over Turbo Granny’s favorite pillow.

“Nice one, ninja,” Aira hissed.

Momo shot her a glare. “It wasn’t me! Someone moved it!”

“You moved it!”

“Shhh!” Okarun’s voice cracked into a high whisper.

“Seiko’s gonna hear us!”

From the back of the group, Jiji sighed under his breath. “You’re all arguing like elementary schoolers.”

You bit your lip, suppressing a laugh. “Says the guy who stepped on the creaky board twice already.”
Jiji froze mid-step. “It’s muscle memory!”

Momo turned, flicking her flashlight off and gesturing sharply. “Okay, okay. For real this time, quiet. No lights until we’re outside.”

The group tiptoed like cartoon burglars through the hallway, the floorboards groaning dramatically beneath every cautious step.

At the door, Momo fumbled with the keys she’d swiped from Seiko’s drawer. The jingling was deafening.

“Stop shaking them like maracas!” Aira hissed.
“I’m trying to find the right one!”

Okarun muttered something about regretting his life choices.

And then, finally, the door clicked open. The night air spilled in, cold and damp, carrying the faint smell of rain.

Outside, the group crept along the shrine temple walls toward the gate. Every small noise seemed amplified, the hum of cicadas, the whisper of trees, even Okarun’s sneakers squeaking faintly.

Jiji, walking beside you, leaned in. “You know, if anyone gets caught, we should blame Momo. She’s the ringleader.”

“She’d throw you under the bus first,” you whispered back.

He grinned. “Yeah but at least I’d look innocent while doing it.”

You snorted softly, covering your mouth to hide the sound.

When the gate archway loomed in the night as the group passed under it. Momo turned with a victorious grin. “See? Easy. We’re practically pros.”
Right as she said it, the motion sensor light above the front door flared on, flooding the yard with blinding white.

Everyone froze.

Aira’s expression was flat. “You jinxed it.”

The light buzzed, stayed on for an unbearably long few seconds and then flickered off again.

The entire group collectively exhaled.

“Okay,” Momo whispered, voice shaky but determined. “We’re actually going now. No more talking, no more light, no more-”

“Meow.”

Turbo Granny’s voice croaked faintly from the bag you had brought along.

“Don’t do anything stupid, ya brats.”

Momo’s eye twitched. “We’ll give you snacks when we come back!”

“Better be fried chicken or I’ll haunt ya.”

The group exchanged a silent look that said, She already does.

And with that, they slipped out into the sleeping town, sneakers brushing through damp grass, flashlights low, hearts drumming with a mix of fear and excitement.

The road toward the school stretched ahead, lit only by the pale blue of vending machines and the occasional hum of streetlamps.

Jiji’s hand brushed against yours once, then again, the second time not quite by accident.

The streets were quieter than any of them expected.
Too quiet, that kind of late night stillness that made even the hum of a vending machine sound suspiciously loud.

Okarun, as usual, broke the silence first.
“So…what’s the plan if a ghost jumps out?”

“Kick its ass,” Momo said flatly, hands shoved in her hoodie pocket.

Aira gave her a side-eye. “That’s your plan for everything.”

“It works, doesn’t it?”

You stifled a laugh. “It works until the ghost doesn’t have a butt.”

Momo shot you a grin over her shoulder. “Then I’ll just exorcise whatever it does have.”

Jiji sighed but smiled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m sneaking into our own haunted school because you all have the collective impulse control of a raccoon.”

“Hey!” Okarun protested. “I’ll have you know raccoons are smart.”

“Exactly my point.”

The group’s laughter carried through the empty street, a small, nervous kind of laughter that made the shadows feel a little less heavy.

They passed shuttered stores and silent homes, their flashlights cutting soft paths through the darkness. A stray cat darted out from an alley, startling Aira into grabbing Momo’s sleeve.
Momo snorted. “Oh no, the feline menace.”
“Shut up! It jumped out of nowhere!”

Jiji looked back at you, his voice dropping to something gentler. “You doing okay? I know this…probably feels different since it started with you.”
You hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll be fine. I just…don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

That quiet honesty sobered him. “You won’t be alone, alright? We’ve got you.”

For a while, none of them spoke. The road narrowed, the air cooling as the school came into view, looming and unfamiliar beneath the moonlight.
The building looked nothing like it did during the day.

The windows were dark, black mirrors reflecting the group’s small cluster of flashlights. The rusted gate creaked softly in the wind and the trees by the courtyard swayed like they were whispering secrets.

“Okay,” Okarun whispered. “It’s officially creepy now.”

“Only now?” Aira muttered.

Momo stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Alright, team. Operation: Find the creep. We sneak in, find the creepy thing, kick it and leave before Seiko kills us for sneaking out.”

“Flawless plan,” Jiji deadpanned.

But despite the joke, you noticed how his shoulders had tensed, his gaze darting to every shadow. There was a faint pulse behind his eyes, that flicker of violet that hinted Evil Eye was restless too.
You swallowed, steadying yourself. “Then let’s make it quick.”

As Momo and Okarun started to push open the gate, the hinges groaned, long and low, echoing into the night like something waking up.

Everyone froze.

The wind died.

The hum of the vending machines down the street cut off.

For one suspended heartbeat, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

Then Jiji leaned close enough for his whisper to brush your ear,

“Too late to turn back now.”

Chapter Text

The gate shut behind them with a hollow clang.

No one had touched it.

“Okay,” Okarun whispered, “not creepy at all.”

“Relax,” Momo muttered, adjusting the strap of her backpack. “It’s just the wind.”

Jiji glanced back at the gate, then at the darkened school ahead. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Sure.”

The group quietly stepped inside.

The fluorescent lights overhead were off but the moonlight filtered through the high windows in fractured silver beams. Dust hung in the air like thin fog and every step echoed, too loud, too alone.

Turbo Granny’s voice rasped from inside the canvas bag slung over your shoulder.

“Ya brats sure know how to pick your death scenes. The air in here’s rotten with bad energy. I can taste it.”

Aira grimaced. “You’re supposed to help, not jinx us!”

“I’m telling you! Something nasty’s slitherin’ around. If it were up to me, we’d burn the place down and call it a night!”

“Not happening,” Momo hissed, waving her hand dismissively. “We’re not torching the school because you said it feels gross.”

“Watch your mouth, brat! I’m older than your grandmother!”

Okarun, half whispering, “Technically, that’s true.”

The group’s quiet snickers echoed through the hallways but it didn’t last long. The laughter died as soon as the first classroom door creaked open on its own.

They all turned at once.

Empty.

But it wasn’t the emptiness that got to them. It was the faint hum in the air, a vibration, almost like breath, coming from deep within the walls.

You caught Jiji’s sleeve. “Did you feel that?”

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

For a moment, the glow behind his pupils flickered, Evil Eye, sensing something that Jiji couldn’t fully interpret.

“I don’t like this,” you murmured.

Turbo Granny’s bag gave a small shudder. “Ha! I told ya it’s thick in here. You can feel ‘em layering, emotions stacked like wet laundry.”

“Gross,” Aira muttered.

“Accurate.” Turbo Granny hissed.

They reached the end of the hall where the shoe lockers stood in long, shadowy rows. Each one looked identical, except one.

The locker door near the center was slightly ajar. A thin wisp of frost crawled out of the crack, curling like smoke.

Momo squinted. “That’s gotta be it.”

Okarun frowned. “A cursed locker? Really?”

“Don’t act surprised,” she shot back. “We’ve both seen weirder things.”

He started to argue but Turbo Granny’s muffled hiss cut through.

“Don’t touch it yet. There’s a stink of obsession all over that thing. I can smell old blood under the lacquer.”

The words made everyone hesitate.

You felt it too now, a slow, deliberate thrum, like something alive just behind the metal.

Jiji’s voice broke the silence, quiet but steady. “Let me go first.”

Momo’s eyes widened. “Wait-”

Too late. He stepped closer, his hand hovering an inch from the metal door. The violet gleam behind his eyes sharpened, Evil Eye stirring, curious.

The locker bowed out as if it now breathed.

A whisper slipped through the air, high and distant, like someone speaking from underwater,

‘You came back…’

The temperature dropped.

Frost blossomed across the floor tiles.

Turbo Granny’s lurched in the bag, her voice suddenly sharp.

“Everyone, back up!”

The metal locker door snapped open.

And a flurry of loose letters spilled out, hundreds of them, scattering across the floor like pale feathers. Every one of them written in the same looping hand.

And on each one, the same opening line,

‘To my dearest…you finally came for me.’

They kept pouring out like a paper flood, spinning and fluttering through the air until the corridor was filled with a snowstorm of words.

Each sheet brushed against skin like static. The moment one touched your hand, a voice hissed right beside your ear-

‘You’re late.’

You flinched, stumbling back and Jiji immediately reached for you. His eyes were glowing faintly, Evil Eye burning awake beneath his calm.

“Stay close,” he said.

Momo was already grabbing Okarun’s arm, trying to make sense of the swirl of papers. “What the hell is this?!”

Aira kicked one of the letters away, only to freeze when it crawled back toward her shoe, folding itself shut again like a living thing.

Turbo Granny’s muffled voice snapped from the bag on your back,

“Get your hides together, it’s feeding! Don’t breathe too deep, you’ll choke on its stench!”

But before anyone could react, the lights above flickered. One, two, three…then black.

The moonlight that once spilled through the hallway windows warped, the shadows bending in directions they shouldn’t.

And then the floor rippled.

“What the-?!” Okarun barely had time to shout before the tiles seemed to slide apart, like the whole building had turned liquid for a breathless second.

You reached for Jiji but your hand met air.

The sound that came next wasn’t a scream. It was a laugh.

A soft, distorted, childlike giggle that echoed through the halls in dozens of overlapping voices.

‘Not so close…you’ll ruin it…’

When the world settled, the letters were gone. The hall was empty. The letters had only left Jiji and Granny with you.

“Momo?” you called. Your voice cracked on the name. “Aira? Okarun?”

Only silence. Then a low, distant bang somewhere deep in the school.

Jiji turned toward the noise, every muscle tense.

“They’re gone,” he said quietly. “It must have moved them.”

Turbo Granny poked her fuzzy head out of the half zipped bag, whiskers twitching. Her tone, for once, wasn’t sarcastic.

“That ain’t just some lovesick ghost anymore. It’s got a real mean streak now. It wants you alone.”

You swallowed hard. “But why?”

The old yokai’s eyes darted toward the rows of lockers, their metal doors vibrating faintly in unison, as though something behind them was breathing together.

“Because you must remind it of the ones it used to hunt.”

You froze.

Jiji stepped in front of you, his posture protective but careful. “It’s not touching them while I’m here,” he said.

The faint violet shimmer pulsed behind his pupils in agreement.

Turbo Granny’s tail flicked. “We’re sittin’ ducks in the hall. Gotta find a better room, somewhere we can put salt, wards or anything down!”

You nodded and the three of you started down the corridor, the air colder with each step.

Halfway to the stairwell, something dragged across the ceiling, slow, deliberate, like fingertips scraping the tiles.

The whisper came again, closer this time.

‘You always leave me behind…’

Jiji’s breath hitched. “You hear that?”

You didn’t answer. Because the next thing you saw made your blood run cold-

A cluster of paper letters was clinging to the wall ahead, folded into the shape of a human hand.

It pointed directly at you before scattering again.

Chapter Text

You moved carefully down the hall.

The air had grown thicker, each breath felt like it pressed back, carrying the faint scent of iron and old rain.

The only sounds were your footsteps, the distant hum of the lights trying to come back to life and Turbo Granny’s claws clicking against the edge of your bag as she wriggled to the surface.

“You’re quieter than a grave, kid,” she muttered, her voice oddly subdued. “That ain’t a good sign.”

You forced a small, tense laugh. “I’m just trying not to think about the fact that lockers are breathing.”

“Yeah, don’t. You’ll start seein’ ‘em blink next.”

Jiji gave her a wary glance. “You know what this thing is, don’t you?”

Turbo Granny didn’t answer right away. Her tiny paw fidgeted with the edge of the bag. “Knew it. Didn’t wanna believe it.”

You looked over at her, brow furrowed. “You’ve seen it before?”

The old yokai’s gaze drifted down the hall, her usual smirk fading. “He was a man once. The one who put those poor girls in the tunnel.”

The words dropped heavy between you. Even Jiji stopped walking.

“He killed them?” you asked softly.

Turbo Granny nodded once, her whiskers trembling. “One by one. All schoolgirls, all too kind for their own good. He’d follow ‘em from the gate to the tunnels, where no one could hear ‘em scream. When I came across the place, the air was thick with their spirits. Couldn’t let ‘em wander scared like that, so I stayed. Guarded ‘em. Kept him out.”

Jiji’s jaw tightened. “And when the tunnel was purified…?”

Turbo Granny’s ears flattened. “I thought he was gone. Spirits that dirty, when they get burned out, they usually can’t crawl back.” She looked at you, her yellow eyes sharp and regretful. “But I should’ve known. The bastard’s anchor wasn’t the tunnel. It was the school.”

You felt your stomach drop. “Because that’s where he found them.”

“Where he picked his prey,” she corrected. “Every letter, every whisper, every look, he’d start there. Made himself at home in their routines. When you found those love notes, kid…” Turbo Granny’s voice rasped low. “That was his way of sayin’ he’d found another.”

Silence fell. The faint echo of dripping water from somewhere deep in the building filled the gap.

Jiji stepped a little closer to you, his presence steady even as the air grew colder. “Then we finish this. Whatever’s left of him we’ll banish.”

Turbo Granny gave a grim little smirk. “Now you’re talkin’. But keep your wits about you, boy. He ain’t the same sort of ghost. He’s clever. He mimics. He can talk in voices that don’t belong to him.”

You felt the back of your neck prickle. “So if I hear-”

“Don’t answer,” she interrupted sharply. “If you hear anyone who ain’t right in front of you, you run the other way.”

From somewhere down the corridor came a quiet, plaintive sound.

A girl’s voice.

“Jiji…? You there?”

You both froze.

Turbo Granny’s fur bristled. “And there he goes. Mockin’ the living again.”

You moved deeper into the school, guided only by the weak glow of a flashlight.

The hallways stretched long and distorted in the dim, every poster and doorframe bending slightly at the edges, like the building itself was breathing.

Turbo Granny perched on your shoulder now, her little claws hooked gently into your sweater. It was odd, she was usually a chatterbox but now her silence was heavier than any warning could’ve been.

Jiji glanced around at the rows of lockers, each identical, dull silver catching faint glints of light. “He’s here somewhere. You can feel it too, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, eyes scanning the rows. “Like someone’s watching from behind the doors.”

Turbo Granny sniffed the air, her fur puffing. “Smells wrong. Like metal and rot.” She pointed her tiny paw toward the far end of the hall. “That way. The old storage wing. They don’t use those lockers anymore.”

You both followed her lead.

Every few steps, the air dipped colder. One locker door creaked open by itself. Another slammed shut as soon as you passed.

Jiji muttered under his breath, his hands tensing at his sides. “Coward.”

Turbo Granny’s voice came low and gravelly. “Don’t rile him up, kid. He likes attention.”

You could feel the weight of her body shift closer to your neck, like she was bracing herself.

“Granny?” you whispered. “You really did try to protect those girls, didn’t you?”

Her voice cracked just slightly, like she wasn’t used to talking about it. “They were already dead when I found ‘em. Just scared shadows, stuck in the dark. No one came for ‘em. So I did.”

You felt her little paw tighten on your shoulder.

“I made that tunnel my den. Drove off anything that came sniffin’. When the boy’s spirit first showed up, he couldn’t get past me. So he waited. Waited, so long that everyone forgot. Till Momo and the old hag purified the girls.” She gave a snort that sounded too bitter to be amused. “He always liked it when they were scared. Guess that’s what he missed most after they were beyond his reach.”

Jiji stopped walking.

“Then that’s what he’s trying to make happen again.”

You looked ahead and noticed one locker that wasn’t like the rest. Its paint was peeling away in thick curls and every few seconds, it thumped softly, as if something inside wanted out.

Turbo Granny hissed, fur bristling. “There. That’s it. His hole. His first one.”

The sound came again, louder now.

A slow, wet scraping. Then the metallic clang of a latch snapping open from the inside.

The door creaked outward and a faint, childlike whisper spilled into the air,

“Granny… why did you leave me there?”

Your breath hitched.

Turbo Granny’s whole body went rigid. For a moment, she didn’t sound like the snarling old yokai you knew, just tired. “You ain’t one of mine,” she said, her voice rough with guilt. “You’re what’s left of the rot that killed them.”

Jiji stepped forward, readying himself. “Then let’s end this.”

But the locker moved. Not opened, moved.

It dragged itself an inch forward, scraping against the tiles and every other locker in the hallway began to rattle in answer, echoing a sound that felt like laughter caught between breaths.

Turbo Granny leapt from your shoulder, claws sparking faint blue light as she landed before you both. “Stay behind me, kid.”

You reached toward her on instinct. “Granny-”

She glanced back just once, her crooked grin returning. “He’s been takin’ from others long enough. Ain’t happenin’ again, y’hear?”
The lights overhead flickered wildly and the locker burst open.

Chapter Text

The hallway filled with the metallic chorus of hinges creaking, clang after clang, until it sounded like something breathing through the steel. The fluorescent lights overhead began to flicker and cold air brushed your ankles, like something crawling just beneath the surface of the floor.

“He’s going to make his move,” Turbo Granny hissed. Her voice turned guttural, protective. “Stay behind me, both of you.”

But Jiji didn’t move back. His jaw clenched, flashlight trembling in his hand.

“No. I can’t just-”

His breath caught.

He dropped to one knee, a hand flying to his chest.

“Jiji!” You lunged forward, catching his shoulders as he swayed. His skin felt too cold and beneath your palm you could feel something pulsing, not a heartbeat but a violent surge of energy, like something was pounding to get out.

The third eye of Evil Eye began to glow through his skin.

But it wasn’t the steady purple it should’ve been. It pulsed erratically, red, then violet, then nearly black.

“Something’s-wrong,” Jiji rasped, voice cracking. “He’s-he’s fighting me.”

Turbo Granny’s tone shifted, the first hint of panic seeping through her gruffness.

“The damn spirit’s pulling at him! Its malice is poisonin’ your boy’s energy. He can’t keep the yokai steady!”

The temperature dropped again, so sharp that your breath fogged the air.

The locker doors slammed shut all at once, the sound booming like a gunshot. Then a voice followed, low and distorted, seeping from the metal seams.

“He doesn’t belong here. None of you do.”

The laughter that came next wasn’t human. It was layered, distant, like it was being dragged through water.

Jiji gasped, then the light erupted.

A shockwave of red energy burst from him, scattering papers, slamming locker doors open once more. Evil Eye manifested but the form was wrong. His aura bled like smoke, flickering out of rhythm, unstable.

His third eye split open across his forehead, blazing bright enough to make you shield your face but its light shuddered like it was in pain.

“Stay-back,” Evil Eye snarled, voice doubled, Jiji’s desperate tone underneath his usual growl. “I said, stay back!”

He stumbled forward, his transformation half formed, trembling. His hands reached toward you on reflex, half in defense, half in warning. You froze, heart pounding and that moment, that hesitation, almost cost you.

Because his energy flared wild, tendrils lashing outward.

But he stopped himself.

Just before the light could touch you, his hand snapped back, his expression twisting, fury and fear tangled together.

“No…I can’t-control it.”

The lockers began to whisper, the same warped laughter echoing from their hollow insides.

“See? He’s breaking. You’re both so fragile.”

That taunting voice dug deep, echoing from every direction. Evil Eye’s breathing came in ragged bursts. He was fighting himself, not the enemy and you could see it in the split second flicker of Jiji’s eyes through his.

You stepped forward despite Turbo Granny’s warning shout.

“You’re okay,” you said softly, reaching toward him. “You’re both okay. Just, stay with me.”

For a moment, something in the chaos steadied.

The glow of his third eye dimmed just enough for him to meet your gaze.

Then, for the first time, Evil Eye looked afraid.

“He’s slipping,” he rasped, his voice raw, trembling. “If he goes under, I’ll lose him.”

The laugh that followed from the shadows sounded delighted.

“Then I’ll take what’s left.”

Something moved beyond the last row of lockers, a dark outline dragging itself across the wall. You could hear its nails scrape the tiles, feel its gaze crawl up your spine.

Turbo Granny’s voice sharpened, the growl of an old god beneath her words.

“You won’t take anyone tonight, filth.”

The air split with a roar of her energy, blue seals flaring from the bag you had brought but even through the warding light, Evil Eye’s form trembled, his glow threatening to shatter.

He still forced himself between you and the sound. His hand outstretched, hands shaking, eyes blazing with determination and grief.

He didn’t protect you out of rage.

He protected you because he was terrified of losing control and losing you in the process.

Jiji dropped to his knees again, despite his best effort to stay standing, gasping, the third eye dimming back into his skin. You caught him, arms steadying his shoulders as Turbo Granny’s muffled growl faded into a sigh.

“That spirit’s pure rot,” she said. “The boy’s too kind to fight it alone. They obviously want to possess him but can’t with Evil Eye already there. It will keep trying to force it’s way in to push him out.”

You looked down at Jiji, sweat damp hair clinging to his forehead, eyes half lidded but soft. The same boy who could see through monsters and still find the humanity in them.

And in that quiet, Evil Eye stirred, not gone, just waiting.

You could feel the pulse under Jiji’s skin, a steady, restless rhythm.

Something told you that was the moment Evil Eye realized it too, that to protect Jiji, to keep his power balanced, he’d need to do something he’d never done before.

The air pressed close, carrying the faint scent of dust and iron. Your phone’s flashlight wavered, the beam cutting through the darkness in trembling slices. The hallway seemed to breathe with you, expanding, contracting, and whispering faintly between the lockers.

“You found me again…”

The flashlight flickered once and went out. The darkness pressed in and the air dropped ten degrees in a heartbeat. You could see your breath now.

“Jiji!” you said, shaking him lightly. His eyes were open, both of them. And for a moment, so was the third.

But it still wasn’t steady.

It flickered, unstable, bleeding between red and violet, pulsing in time with the sound of that laughter.

Turbo Granny swore under her breath.

“Damn it. That spirit’s diggin’ in. It’s messin’ with the yokai’s current inside him.”

Jiji’s voice came out strangled, distorted, half his, half something deeper.

“It’s-burning. I can’t-keep him steady.”

The floor under you rattled. A gust of air rushed down the hall, slamming the locker doors shut with a thunderclap that made your ears ring.

Then Evil Eye appeared.

He didn’t emerge so much as bleed through Jiji’s skin, the air around him shimmering as his form flickered in and out, like he was fighting to stay cohesive. His third eye blazed, cracked with energy, the veins beneath his skin glowing faintly through.

“Back away,” he growled, his voice fractured and uneven. “Don’t-touch me.”

You stayed exactly where you were.

His breathing hitched, a pained sound and his hands curled like claws against the floor. His power rippled out of him in waves, uncontrolled, brushing against you like static.

“He’s not right,” Turbo Granny said, her tone shifting from gruff to grim. “That bastard spirit’s seepin’ into his flow, makin’ him sick. They share one body, remember? You hurt one, the other bleeds.”

You glanced at Jiji’s face, his human side still visible beneath the flickering yokai energy. His brow was furrowed, sweat sliding down his temple, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

You reached out, ignoring the way your skin prickled under the energy. “You’re both here,” you said quietly. “You’re still together. Don’t let him pull you apart.”

For a heartbeat, Evil Eye’s power steadied. His hands unclenched. The distortion in his form slowed, almost calmed.

Then the voice returned, low and mocking, crawling along the walls.

“He doesn’t need you. You’re just meat.”

That was when Evil Eye snapped.

His aura surged violently, the floor cracking beneath his knees. A sound tore out of him, not a roar, not a scream but something desperate. A sound that hurt to hear.

“Shut up!”

The wave of power hit the lockers like a blast of wind, denting the nearest doors and scattering paper and dust into the air.

You stumbled but didn’t back away. You knelt in front of him instead, reaching out again.

“Hey,” you whispered. “Look at me. It’s just me.”

Evil Eye’s breathing ragged, his form half shadow, half flesh. His third eye dimmed just enough to reveal Jiji’s through it, exhausted, scared but still there.

“He’s too kind for this,” Turbo Granny muttered softly. “That boy never had it in him to hate somethin’. That’s why the yokai came to him easy, he accepted him.”

Her voice softened in an almost maternal grumble.

“And that’s why this spirit’s got its claws in deep. It’s usin’ all that kindness to twist him.”

Evil Eye turned his gaze toward you. His expression wasn’t anger, it was fear.

“He’s fading,” he said, his voice low and raw. “If I lose him now, he won’t come back.”

You reached forward, brushing his hair from his face. The gesture startled him, his form flickered but he didn’t pull away.

“You won’t,” you said firmly. “You’re both still here. You’re not fighting alone anymore.”

The echoing laughter from the lockers wavered, distorting into a hiss but Evil Eye didn’t rise to it this time. He held your gaze, steady for once, breathing slowly through his teeth.

Turbo Granny stirred, her aura humming low.

Her tone was soft, a rare thing from her.

“You’ll need each other if you’re gonna face it. You hear me?”

Evil Eye’s glow faded completely then, the power bleeding away until only Jiji’s human form remained, pale, shaking but conscious.

He blinked at you weakly, managing a small, tired smile.

“You’re still here,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

“Always,” you said.

He slumped forward slightly, head resting against your shoulder. Turbo Granny let out a quiet sigh that somehow sounded both proud and worried.

“You’ve got a good heart, kid,” she muttered. “But that’s the kind that breaks easiest.”

The air in the school was growing heavier by the second. The kind of weight that pressed down on lungs and thoughts alike.

You could sense the air shifting, all that power spiraling into a single point. Something in you told you not to look, instinct alone told you waist was happening behind you. Something was taking form.

The malice rolling off the spirit wasn’t like anything you’d faced before, it was raw hatred sharpened into a child’s grin.

From the end of the hall, the spirit’s voice cooed, soft and syrupy,

“You’re just my type. Pretty. Easy to follow.”

You froze.

“Don’t look at them.” Evil Eye’s voice overlapped with Jiji’s, like two radio stations bleeding into one another. “Look at me, filth.”

He staggered from your hold, rising to his feet and moved forward, the floor cracked under his heel as his power surged, unstable, unbalanced. The malicious aura from the spirit tangled with his own, feeding it, distorting it.

For a heartbeat, you saw Evil Eye, the destructive being Okarun once fought, beginning to surface again.

The spirit laughed, mocking and low. “You think you can protect them when you’re the same as me?”

That struck too deep. Evil Eye’s form spasmed, his hands flexed mid-air. The crimson aura sparked, making the usual purple look wild and erratic.

“Stop-” You shouted, running toward him, voice cutting through the chaos. “Jiji, please!”

Evil Eye turned sharply, half his face twisted, the other half trembling with human fear. “He’s too weak, he’s making us weak. I can’t face something like this with a leash on.”

The reader didn’t back away. “Then take it off! But don’t lose yourself.”

A strained laugh. “I told you before. I could give you power. We could end this filth.” His voice was softer now, desperate beneath the bravado. “All you have to do is make the deal.”

The spirit lunged before you could answer. You didn’t want to look but now you saw it. An inky shape that dripped, paper letters sliding in and out of a form that looked nearly human.

It surged forward towards you, arms open wide. Evil Eye reacted on instinct, arms around you, twisting to take the hit. The spirit slammed into the lockers with a crash. The inky aura flared, melting in reverse.

For a moment, the world fell silent except for the ringing in your ears. Evil Eye’s hand remained braced protectively against across your chest, his breathing ragged.

“You don’t understand,” he muttered, low and hoarse. “If he falters, I vanish. If I vanish, he dies. I can’t protect either of you if I’m chained like this.”

Turbo Granny, from on top of the lockers, hissed through her teeth. “You damn fool, you’ll burn through the both of ya if you keep pushin’!”

You caught Evil Eye’s gaze, and saw the pain beneath the anger. The fear of being useless, of losing Jiji.

The spirit reformed again at the end of the hall, stretching open a mouth into something that wasn’t quite human.

And Evil Eye whispered, “Say the word and I’ll show you what I really am. No holding back. Just…you and me.”

Chapter Text

The spirit was reforming, its body rippling like oil over water, eyes twitching open all across its form. Its laugh echoed down the hall, overlapping itself like a broken recording.

Jiji’s body arched as Evil Eye tried to stabilize his form, the clash of powers throwing sparks across the lockers. His aura flared neon violet, then sputtered, tearing cracks through the floor tiles.

Turbo Granny cursed, crouching. “You ain’t got long, kid! That thing’s eatin’ at both their souls!”

You could feel it, heat and cold folding together in the air, the way Evil Eye’s grip trembled where it still shielded you. He was strong but the spirit’s malice wasn’t just lashing out, it was infecting his energy, warping it into something chaotic.

“Damn it-!” Evil Eye growled, voice layered with Jiji’s. “He’s slipping-I can’t keep us steady like this.”

You grabbed his sleeve before he could surge forward again.

“Then I’ll take the deal,” You said, your voice sharp, trembling but sure. “But it’s temporary, just until it’s over.”

Evil Eye froze. His head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing. “You understand what you’re asking? Once you let me in-”

“I do,” Yoi said firmly, cutting him off. “I trust you, both of you. So…let’s finish this.”

For the first time since the fight began, Evil Eye hesitated, not out of uncertainty but something softer, almost human.

“Fine,” he whispered, the edge of a smirk twitching across his face. “Temporary.”

His hand rose to your chest, hovering just above your sternum, not quite touching. The air pulsed once and suddenly everything shifted.

A wave of heat burst outward as your auras intertwined, his purple light coiling around your own energy like living fire.

It didn’t feel like possession. It felt like pressure, a tide swelling under your ribs, wild but aware. Evil Eye’s voice rang low in your mind, no longer external but shared.

“We’re connected now. Don’t fight it.”

You took a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “Then let’s end this.”

Together, you both turned toward the spirit.

The creature hissed, retreating as the new energy pulsed down the hall. The floor tiles cracked and lifted as raw power crawled beneath, spiraling outward in burning circles. Evil Eye’s laughter rose in your throat, overlapping with your own voice as you spoke in sync.

“Your time’s up.”

The blast of energy that followed wasn’t wild, it was focused, shaped by three wills working as one. The spirit screamed, the force tearing through its form, scattering its shadow into fragments of light.

When the air stilled, the hallway was silent again, just the sound of breathing, your own heart hammering in your chest.

The glow dimmed, Evil Eye’s form flickering between his features and Jiji’s familiar outline. You could feel the power in your chest fading slowly, leaving only a faint warmth.

“Not bad,” Evil Eye murmured, voice distant now but still within your head. “You handled me better than most would.”

Then, quieter, almost tender,

“…Don’t forget it was temporary, yeah?”

And with that, his power ebbed away, leaving Jiji crumpled and breathing hard in your outstretched arms, still alive but dazed, his eyes heavy with exhaustion and faint traces of purple.

Turbo Granny gave a rough laugh from where she’d been watching. “Well, kid, you sure know how to make friends with trouble.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just looked down at Jiji, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

“Maybe,” You whispered. “But trouble’s what keeps us all together, isn’t it?”

Chapter Text

The school was silent again. Only the wind moved, slipping through broken windows and stirring the fine ash that coated the hall.

Jiji lay slumped against your chest, the last threads of light fading from his eyes. His breathing was shallow but steady, his skin still too warm.

“Hey… stay with me,” You whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead. His bangs were damp, sticking to his skin. He blinked up blearily, pupils dilated, confusion softening his expression.

“You-” He swallowed hard, voice rough. “You made the deal.”

“It was the only way,” You murmured. “You were losing control and he-”

“I know,” Jiji interrupted weakly, his gaze flickering away. “I could feel it.”

You both fell silent. Somewhere in the distance, a door creaked, the sound echoing down the empty hallway.

You reached for the edge of his jacket, pulling it tighter around him. “You were both…incredible, though. I mean it.”

Jiji gave a short, shaky laugh. “You’re not supposed to call a yokai inside me ‘incredible.’”

“Then I’ll call you that instead.”

That caught him off guard. His eyes widened just slightly before he looked away, a faint color touching his cheeks.

But before you could say anything else, a low murmur brushed against your mind.

“You did well,” Evil Eye’s voice hummed, faint but unmistakable.

You froze. Your eyes darted toward Jiji but he didn’t seem to hear it.

“He needs rest. You both do.”

“Evil Eye?” You whispered under your breath.

Jiji’s gaze flicked up. “What?”

“Nothing,” You lied softly, shaking your head.

The presence lingered, a low warmth just beneath your ribs, like an ember refusing to go out.

“I kept my word,” Evil Eye said, his tone strange, almost contemplative. “Temporary, you said. But I think…I understand why he trusts you.”

You exhaled slowly. ‘And why I trust you.’ You thought, though you didn’t say it aloud.

You looked down at Jiji again, his lashes brushing his cheeks, his breathing slowing as the exhaustion pulled him under. Carefully, you shifted so that his head rested on your lap, your hand smoothing over his hair in gentle strokes.

The faint smell of smoke and dust clung to his clothes and for the first time that night, everything felt still.

Turbo Granny watched from the corner of the room, “Hmph,” she muttered. “You kids burn too bright for your own good.”

You smiled faintly. “That’s probably true.”

Outside, dawn was just beginning to bleed over the horizon. The first pale light slipped through the cracked window, brushing across Jiji’s sleeping face.

And beneath it, just for a heartbeat, you saw the faint shimmer of violet behind his eyelids, the echo of Evil Eye still lingering in his dreams.

“Rest,” the yokai’s whisper came one last time, fading into the warmth of morning. “I’ll keep watch for a while.”

Your fingers stilled in his hair and you whispered back, “Thank you.”

For a long while, that was all there was, the sound of soft breathing, the scent of dust and sunlight and the quiet reminder that the line between human and yokai had blurred a little more that night.

Chapter Text

Jiji slept like a stone in your lap, his breathing finally even, one loose strand of hair rising and falling with each exhale. The early morning light washed through the shattered window, soft and gold, warming the dried dust on the floor.

You didn’t dare move.

Mostly because he looked peaceful.

…And because if you shifted even slightly, his entire dead weight might slide right off your legs and face plant onto the tile.

A door down the hall creaked open.

“HEEEY!? You're alive!?”

Momo’s voice cracked like a firecracker before she barreled into view, followed immediately by Okarun skidding behind her, then Aira.

The rescue party, in all its chaotic glory.

“Oi! You two disappeared!” Aira shouted, pointing dramatically as always. “You can’t just vanish mid-battle like that!”

“You literally vanished mid-battle too,” you deadpanned.

“Oh. Yeah.” She crossed her arms, reconsidering.

Momo launched herself forward, then screeched to a halt the instant she spotted Jiji asleep across your lap.

“Oooh,” she whispered, suddenly starry eyed. “He fell asleep on you? That’s kinda cute.”

You shushed her frantically. “Lower your voice!”

Jiji didn’t so much as twitch.

Okarun stepped up from behind, exhaling in relief. “Thank goodness you’re both safe. That spirit was pretty strong."

Turbo Granny’s voice rose above his as she jumped down from the dented locker row. “I TOLD YOU that little bastard was trouble! Should’ve kicked him in the spectral balls while we had the chance-”

“Granny!” Okarun near shouted.

“What!? I’m right!”

Momo scratched her cheek awkwardly. “We got separated during the fight. Every time we reached a hallway, it shifted again.”

“The lockers were moving,” Aira added. “Like the entire school was folding in on itself. We thought, well-”

She rubbed her cheek, sheepish. “We thought you were stuck in some scary yokai death dimension.”

You shook your head and began to explain quietly, stroking Jiji’s hair without thinking.

How the stalker spirit cornered you,

How Jiji’s control faltered,

How Evil Eye surged forward half feral from the malice in the air,

How the deal had to be made and how the three of you fought together.

Everyone listened closely, the early dawn settling like a soft blanket over the ruined hallway.

When you reached the part about the deal, Aira nearly choked.

“HE MADE DEAL WITH YOU!?” she yelled.

Jiji twitched in his sleep.

You and Momo glared daggers at her.

“Oops,” Aira whispered.

Okarun rubbed the back of his neck. “Temporary deal, right? You’re okay? He didn’t…do anything?”

You thought about Evil Eye’s lingering voice.

The warmth.

The way he had said that he’d keep watch.

The way he tried to steady Jiji from inside.

“No,” you said softly. “He was…helping.”

The group exchanged looks. Not suspicious ones, surprised ones.

“Hmph,” she grumbled, hiding the softness she had displayed during the fight behind her usual tone. “The freak is growing a conscience. Next he’ll start baking cookies.”

You smiled but didn’t comment.

Momo knelt down beside Jiji, poking his cheek. “He’s out cold. Completely dead to the world. Poor guy must’ve pushed himself too hard.”

“He did,” you admitted. “Both of them did.”

Momo nodded, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The tension finally unspooled.

The fear faded.

And the room, though cracked and dusty and smelling faintly of burnt chalk, felt warm.

Aira stretched dramatically. “Okay! Now that the horror movie nonsense is over, can we go back?”

“Agreed.” Okarun said.

Turbo Granny hopped up, “You idiots are hopeless. Let’s go, I need a bath.”

Momo beamed at you, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Good job surviving.”

You smiled back. “You too.”

And finally, very carefully, you nudged Jiji.

“Hey,” you whispered. “Time to go home.”

He blinked awake slowly, eyes hazy and soft, still halfasleep.

“Mn…?”

He lifted his head only for it to immediately drop back onto your thigh.

“Oof-Jiji!”

Momo burst out laughing.

Okarun snorted.

Aira clapped like she’d witnessed a romance drama.

Jiji, still half dazing, murmured, “Warm…comfy…five more minutes…”

And just like that, the tension shattered into something more pure as everyone all tried to wake him without Jiji accidentally shifting into Evil Eye mid-sleep.

“Guys-stop shaking him!”

“I’m not shaking, I’m nudging!”

“That’s the same thing!!”

“He’s grabbing your shirt-!”

“I KNOW-!”

By the time everyone managed to pry him upright without invoking a full yokai meltdown, the sun was fully over the horizon and the school hall was bathed in gold.

The danger had passed.

But the bonds between all of you?

Those had only gotten tighter.

Chapter Text

🩸 The True Origin of the Spirit Stalker

Long before the events of Dandadan, there was a young man who targeted girls walking home from school, the same victims whose spirits became the “tunnel ghosts.” His crimes were covered up by local superstition, buried with the claim that the tunnel was “cursed.”

When he died, either by suicide, accident or revenge, his spirit couldn’t move on. Unlike the victims, he didn’t linger in grief or sorrow. He lingered in possession. His spirit warped over time into something obsessive and territorial, a spirit driven by fixation rather than hatred.

🕯️ Why He’s in the Locker

The killer’s spirit attached to the school itself, specifically the locker near where one of his victims once studied. The locker became his “window,” a liminal point between worlds where he could sense energy from the living, especially people who reminded him of his victims.

He’s drawn to the reader because their spiritual frequency overlaps with that of the murdered girls, compassionate, empathic and emotionally vivid.

So when he senses them near, his fragmented mind twists that empathy into romantic fixation.

The love letters are his attempt at recreating affection, what he thinks love should sound like, based on fragmented memories from his human life. That’s why the early letters are sweet, almost poetic but gradually turn unnerving. The further his obsession grows, the more his predatory nature bleeds through.

🌀 The connection with Turbo Granny

Turbo Granny’s presence around the tunnel kept him from returning. She has an instinct to protect the spirits of victimized girls, so her power kept this malevolent spirit out of the area entirely.

So his spirit connected to the locker and the school instead.

He regained strength through the locker and through the reader, feeding off their attention, their fear, their empathy.