Tokyo Exorcism Diary

The final mock exam ended just as school let out for the day.

The weather in Tokyo today wasn’t ideal. The sky was overcast, heavy with clouds threatening to burst at any moment. With late April giving way to May, the rainy season was just around the corner, and a few prelude storms seemed fitting.

Not wanting to get drenched on his way home, Hoshino Gen hailed a taxi outside the school gates and headed straight to the antique shop.

After yesterday’s marathon session, Chi-chan’s affection level for Y-san in Red Skirt had reached 43 points. With a bit more effort, he could likely achieve his goal by the end of the day.

Making himself a cup of coffee with practiced ease, Hoshino Gen settled onto the rug behind his desk, peeled off the protective charm from yesterday, and opened his laptop.

As the familiar melody of the game played, he immersed himself in the world of Red Skirt. The adorable art style and soothing music made him realize that, had he not already pegged the game as “supernatural” with lurking dangers, it would’ve been a great way to unwind in his free time.

Boom!

A muffled thunderclap rumbled through the sky, followed by the patter of rain on the roof.

Practically crashing through the shop door, Shimizu Yuu arrived, panting and clutching her school bag.

“Phew… I just barely made it before the downpour,” she said, swapping her shoes at the entrance.

Flopping abrutly across from Hoshino Gen, she caught her breath and glanced at him. “How’d you get here so fast? I ran the whole way.”

“Two legs can’t compete with four wheels,” Hoshino Gen replied with a faint smile.

Understanding, Shimizu Yuu’s expression soured. “Tch, must be nice to have money.”

In Japan, taking a taxi was a luxury. For most people, the price was absurd unless there was an emergency. The school wasn’t even far from the shop—yet this guy had splurged on a cab ride? Typical rich kid behavior.

After lounging on the soft carpet for a while, Shimizu Yuu noticed the game music emanating from Hoshino Gen’s laptop and couldn’t help asking, “What game are you playing? The BGM’s really nice.”

She’d been curious since yesterday, but her simmering annoyance with him had kept her from asking. Thankfully, she was calmer today—perhaps calm enough to have a normal conversation.

“Red Skirt. It’s a trashy romance visual novel.” 

Shimizu Yuu froze, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. She had always thought of Hoshino Gen as a polite yet detached guy with a streak of mischief. Never in her wildest dreams had she pegged him as someone obsessed with dating sims. Was this dude secretly an otaku?!

Wait a second. Now that she thought about it, this guy rarely spoke to anyone in class. Could it be that he wasn’t aloof but socially awkward? Was his perpetual smile actually a mask for crippling shyness? That… was oddly impressive.

Shimizu Yuu’s expression morphed several times, her thoughts spiraling out of control. 

Hoshino Genhad no idea what kind of wild scenarios Shimizu Yuu had conjured up in her mind based on his offhand comment, but just from the corner of his eye, he could tell her expression was definitely up to no good.

Plenty of time to daydream but not work—what an oblivious little fool of a grunt.

Playing the role of the ruthless capitalist, denying his employees even a moment to slack off. He issued a command, his tone all business: “Shimizu-san, if you’re done resting, it’s time to get back to work.”

“Huh? Oh…” Shimizu Yuu, though a lazybones, was surprisingly professional. Since she had agreed to be his assistant, she wouldn’t slack off during work hours. In fact, she was quite enthusiastic about the job—provided that Hoshino Gen didn’t treat her like he had yesterday, letting her play the role of a housekeeper.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked.

“Same as yesterday,” Hoshino Gen replied nonchalantly. “You only cleaned the first-floor lounge yesterday. Today, skip the backyard since it’s raining, but focus on the gallery and the second floor. Don’t forget the stairs, either. Oh, and avoid the bedroom at the end of the hall upstairs. Anywhere else is fine.”

Without sparing her a glance, Hoshino Gen added, “From now on, the first and second floors need cleaning every two days. That’ll be your primary responsibility going forward.”

Shimizu Yuu’s eyes were almost red with frustration. This bastard wasn’t socially awkward at all—he was just a purebred, cold-hearted psychopath!

“This isn’t assistant work! I quit!”

Hoshino Gen didn’t even flinch. His serene demeanor remained intact as he replied in the same pleasant tone, “So Shimizu-san is planning to break the contract? That’s fine. You already know the cost of the materials for the charm on your arm. But that doesn’t include the labor for refining it into an alchemical tool. Let’s call it an even million yen. With the penalty clause, that’ll be ten million.”

He flashed her a warm smile, making the outrageous sum sound almost reasonable.

Shimizu Yuu inhaled deeply, her face dark as she stomped toward the supply closet. What a heartless jerk! Ten million yen?! Why not just rob a bank?!

As rain hammered against the roof, Shimizu Yuu prayed fervently for a lightning bolt to smite the insufferable man.

Watching her retreating figure brimming with resentment, Hoshino Gen mulled things over for a moment before pulling out his phone and dialing a meal delivery service.

“Hello, I’d like to order the Grade 5 combo, two rice. Address: 2nd street,no.18…”

…

Boom!

Outside, the rain intensified, accompanied by rolling thunder that echoed across the drenched landscape.

Deep in the woods, rain pooled into streams cascading from the yellow raincoat’s hem. Beneath the raincoat was a beautiful girl with a tear mole by the corner of her eye. She looked to be around eighteen or nineteen, with a young face that carried an air of detachment far beyond her years. It was the kind of expression that seemed to have seen through the world, one that showed no interest in anything—radiating a distinct “emotionless” girl vibe.

Staring at a dilapidated dojo before her, the girl pressed a hand to the earpiece hidden beneath her hood and spoke in a flat tone. “Oni-kiri is gone.”

A gruff male voice responded through the earpiece. “Ah… that’s a hassle. Can you confirm if it relocated or was dealt with?”

The girl shook her head but quickly realized this was a remote call—they couldn’t see her. “Unknown. But I picked up two unfamiliar scents, one male, one female.”