Chapter Text
Time passed in a blur for Ken Takakura. Besides finally going back to school, he was informed by Seiko Sensei that the next week was to be spent refining and experimenting his spiritual energy, specifically in relation to manipulating the timing and shaping of his energy bursts. Also, he was Momo’s boyfriend now.
Honestly, he didn’t know which scared him more.
In a surprising turn of events, school turned out to be the least painful. The other members of the Occult Club were glad to see he was up and about, though apparently Aira had installed herself as “Official Head of Ken Takakura Updates”, something Momo was furious about. Classes weren’t bad either. He had only missed a few days, so he wasn’t terribly behind, but any behind was too much for him, and he spent his lunch and both breaks trying to catch up. Luckily, Momo joined him, doing her best to help him with the lessons he missed.
The training was a whole different kettle of fish. He had reached a bit of a stand still in his progress. By Saturday, he was now able to not only focus the ki of his aura and form it to his body in an instant, quicker than thinking, but he could even keep it focused for nearly an hour before he passed out.
As he lay on the ground with Seiko sitting next to him, Ken focused on the wind blowing through his hair and across his face to ground his thoughts, “Sensei, why does it matter how long I can hold my aura in place? It’s not like any of our fights have lasted longer than like twenty minutes.”
“For the same reason that we trained physically for hours. The more you exercise any part of yourself, the easier it is to use how you need. Spiritual energy is the same as biceps in that way.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Ken struggled to sit up, just in time for a sharp smack to send him ass over head rolling along the ground.
“You doubting my teachings, Four-Eyes?”
“NO, SENSEI!”
“Good, then get off the ground. We’re going on a trip.”
“A trip? Where to?”
“Visiting some friends of mine. Well, not really friends. Business associates.”
“Oh…okay?”
“Come on.” She started walking towards the house, “We’ve got to get ready.”
Seiko was very scant on explanations as they got ready. She didn’t wear her normal ceremonial clothing, but was dressed far more conservatively than usual, something Ken was grateful for. It always felt weird for his girlfriend’s grandma to walk around with her chest hanging out. She had also laid out a set of clothes that seemed almost business wear for him, and it felt constricting around his neck as he tied the tie. Thankfully there was no suit coat, so it felt less like he was going to a job interview. She made a quick early lunch, and went to wake up Vamola and Momo, who came down wearing similarly professional-looking clothing.
"What's with the mandatory threads, Grandma? This things are so not my style."
Seiko looked up from her food and poured a couple of bowls for the two girls, “Eat fast. We’re going to see the Rokken Sect.”
Momo, rubbing her eyes as she took a sip from the thimble-sized bowl of soup, “Wait, the yokai hunters?”
Seiko nodded solemnly, “That’s right.”
“What do we need to see them for? Is something big coming?” Momo adopted a boxing stance and shot out a few miniature punches.
“Naw, it's nothing like that. When Momo first came out of the game board, I reached out to all of my contacts in the hopes that one of them could help us find the uchide-no-kozuchi.”
“That’s the hammer that can make M-Momo big again, right?”
Seiko ignored the happy squeak that came from her granddaughter, “Good memory, Four-Eyes. Technically, the hammer grants wishes. It’s just that it has been used in the past to make people big. That’s what Issun-boshi did with it, at least.”
"Wait, Issun-boshi, the samurai?!"
“So it can grant ANY wish? You could wish for anything?”
Vamola’s eyes grew big, “Anything?”
Seiko raised an eye until the group settled down, “Anyway, as I was saying, I reached out to everyone I could after I found out that the hammer was missing from the Izumo Grand Shrine. I got a lot of assurance back from a few people, but I didn’t hear back from the Rokken Sect. That’s not really surprising, they aren’t big on unnecessary effort. I figured they either were ignoring me or wouldn’t reach out until they had information. Luckily, it was the latter. They’ve finally sent me this.”
Seiko set a folded piece of paper down on the table, opening it up to reveal a small map with a time and date on it, “Today, in about an hour, we’re meeting with them to hear what they have to say. Momo, since the curse we’re trying to break is yours, you’ll need to come with so they can get a look at you. Nerd-boy and Vamola, you’re coming with for backup. This should be an easy in and out, but with the Rokken, you can never tell. They weren't exactly ecstatic with how we parted ways last time, something about me being too loosy-goosy with the rules. They’re very big on procedure and organization, so I need you all to be on your best behavior, understand?”
The three kids nodded in unison, identical determined looks on their faces, though the one on Momo’s face was significantly smaller.
“Good. The taxi should be arriving any moment. Let’s roll.”
As if on cue, they heard a car horn honk twice from outside.
Their destination was a small office building in the heart of Kamigoe City. It was very unobtrusive and seemed almost unreasonably mundane and boring, squashed between two much larger buildings that made it easy to miss if you weren't looking.
“Uh, Granny? Are you sure this is the right place?”
Granny lit up a cigarette and huffed in disgust, “One-hundred percent. If you look for its aura, you can see the Rokken stink all over it. It’s unmistakable.”
Momo looked at the aura and gasped. She looked at her friends and family to reassure herself that she wasn’t imagining the difference. Her grandmother’s aura was a calming light blue that shifted quickly around her body like a wildfire and was bigger than would be expected for a normal person, but her grandmother wasn’t normal in any sense. Vamola’s was wispy and moved languidly, with a deep green color that always calmed her. Okarun’s energy was a bright blue-green and twirled frantically around him almost like water, like he was enveloped by a large drop that was eternally falling amid strong winds but never reached the ground.
She looked back at the building. She definitely wasn’t imagining it. The aura of the building was unmoving, almost rigid, and a smokey light gray in color. It felt cold and stiff, like a stone door or a layer of armor.
“Gross.”
Seiko nodded in agreement and Ken, not for the first time since he started his journey as a medium, made a promise to himself that he would learn to see auras as he squinted fruitlessly at the building's exterior.
Inside the building was a young woman at a welcome desk, “Well, hello! And welcome to the Rokken Building. Do you need directions somewhere?”
Seiko made her least-bitchy grumpy face and held out the folded paper, “We’re here to see the Hahaoya.”
“Ah! Wonderful! I thought you were just people who got lost, this is so much better!” She kept a plastic smile on her face as she stood and bid them follow her, “We get so few visitors these days, it always makes my job more exciting when people stop by. May I ask what is the purpose of your visit?”
Seiko didn’t look at the woman, “No.”
“Very well then, I hope your time here goes well. If there’s anything I can help with after your meeting, do not hesitate to ask.” She bowed, her hand extended towards one set of double doors that had the wooden plaques with the kanji for “fair weather” and “truth” on either side of it. “We do ask that you do not smoke in any of the conference rooms, however, so be sure to extinguish your cigarette before you enter.”
Seiko grumbled and put out her cigarette as the woman walked back to her desk. She looked at Vamola, then Ken, then Momo who was currently held in Ken’s cupped hands, before pushing open the doors.
The interior of the surprisingly large room was dimly lit, with lamps at each individual seat along the edge of a large conference table. There were sixteen people already there, with seven along one side, groups of three and five along the other side, and one extremely old woman sitting at the table’s head across from them. On the near side, three chairs had been placed, as well as a miniature chair on the tabletop.
“Welcome, Seiko Ayase.” The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, sounding like wind through a forest of dead trees, “It has been too long since we last had you among our numbers. Sit.”
Behind them, the door slammed shut.