Chapter 24: A Regular Higher Scholar

Spirits (精霊, Seirei)—extraordinary beings from a dimension beyond human comprehension. Whether their appearances are driven by their own will or by forces unknown remains a mystery. 

Yet, their arrival in this world is anything but subtle, heralded by a catastrophic phenomenon known as a spacequake. These bursts of energy, akin to massive explosions, obliterate everything in their radius, leaving only destruction and despair behind.

To the public, the existence of these beings remains shrouded in secrecy, hidden behind layers of deception and misinformation. But those who know the truth have not remained idle in the shadows.

In response, organizations have emerged, each with its own agenda and methods for confronting the crisis these enigmatic entities bring.

Some organizations focus on neutralization, deploying advanced weaponry and precision tactics to eliminate the threat before it escalates.

Others pursue containment, crafting intricate strategies to seal away a spirit's power—whether to study them, control them, or exploit their destructive potential to serve their own agendas.

Among the most notable of these groups are AST, the Anti-Spirit Team under the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force; SSS, the Special Sorcery Service of Britain, Japan's counterpart in spirit warfare; and DEM, short for Deus Ex Machina Industries, a corporate giant whose influence extends far beyond the battlefield.

Despite their differing methodologies, these organizations shared one unsettling truth—they all saw spirits as enemies to be subdued, subjects for experimentation, or threats to be erased. Whether driven by fear, hatred, or cold pragmatism, their actions reduced spirits to nothing more than dangerous anomalies that had to be eliminated.

But there was one exception.

Amid the chaos wrought by these clandestine powers, a single organization stood apart—not to hunt, not to exploit, but to protect. They sought neither destruction nor control. Instead, they wished to understand the pain spirits carried, to offer them peace, and to grant them a place in a world that had already condemned them.

They called themselves Ratatoskr.

Unlike their counterparts, Ratatoskr saw spirits not as threats, but as lost souls—their ideals stood as a beacon of hope in a world that had long abandoned them.

Yet, just like the other organizations, Ratatoskr had its own trump card—a force capable of shifting the scales when the time for action arrived.

But for Ratatoskr, it wasn't a powerful weapon, nor was it a seasoned mage overflowing with magic.

It was a simple high schooler.

A boy with the ability to seal a spirit's power—not through battle, not through force, but through something far more unorthodox.

By taking them on a date.

By earning their trust.

By making them fall for him.

And finally—by sealing their powers with a kiss.

His name was—

Part 2:

"...Aah..." He sighed.

Plodding along the residential street at the sluggish pace of an old man nursing bad knees, the boy trudged forward as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

His face bore the weary marks of exhaustion, and the hair that hung over his eyes—straight and blue, falling to his neck—seemed just as dull and lifeless as his energy.

At just sixteen, he carried the fatigue of someone far older. And really, who could blame him?

"...Aah." Another sigh slipped past his lips.

It was September 7th—the day before summer break officially ended—and he was trapped in a situation no one would envy.

Shido Itsuka's amber-brown eyes flicked forward, calculating the remaining distance to the convenience store.

Realizing it was farther than expected, he nearly let out another groan—but he pressed on.

He was, by all accounts, an average high schooler, just a few months into his second year. His life should have been uneventful.

Should have been.

But then came the event that flipped his world upside down—so bizarre that if he tried explaining it to anyone, they'd probably think he was knee-deep in his chūnibyō phase.

Not that he could tell anyone. Even if he wanted to.

Not long ago, he had stumbled into a disaster unlike any other—a Spacequake. A catastrophic phenomenon that left nothing but devastation in its wake. He had barely survived.

Yet that single accident unraveled a truth far beyond anything he had ever imagined—or wanted to know.

The cause of these disasters? Spirits—extraordinary beings from another dimension.

And with that revelation came a responsibility he never asked for, but one he couldn't turn away from.

As if that wasn't enough, he soon discovered that his adorable little sister, Kotori, wasn't just an ordinary little sister—she was the commander of a secret organization known as Ratatoskr. Their mission? To save the Spirits.

And what did they need from him, a regular high schooler? Nothing too outrageous... just risking his life to make the most dangerous entities on the planet fall in love with him—kiss them—to somehow seal away their overwhelming powers.

Yeah... if he ever shared this story with anyone, they wouldn't just accuse him of being stuck in his chūnibyō phase. No, they'd be far more concerned about his mental health.

"Can't I get a break...?"

But his exhaustion wasn't just from keeping up with all this—though that certainly played a part.

No, the real culprit was far simpler: this was his third trip to the market today for cooking supplies.

The sun hadn't even risen when he first ventured out, still half-asleep, to grab ingredients for breakfast.

Not long after, he was back again—this time to restock for lunch. And now, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, he found himself retracing the same path, his wallet lighter and his patience thinner.

All because the fridge had somehow been emptied. Again.

By now, Shido had gotten somewhat used to his strange new life. He had already sealed three—no, four Spirits, including the Yamai sisters during a school trip to Arubi Island just this summer break.

But what he hadn't grown accustomed to was the constant battle to keep them fed.

Or, more accurately, to keep one Spirit fed.

The Spirit codenamed Princess—or as Shido had personally named her, Tohka.

Even after devouring three full meals a day—with side dishes, extra plates, and desserts piled high—Tohka never seemed satisfied.

His warnings about moderation? Completely ignored. And if she wasn't outright asking for more food, she was sneaking into the kitchen late at night, devouring anything she could get her hands on.

Leftovers? Gone.
Fresh ingredients he had planned to cook with? Vanished.
Snacks meant for emergencies? A lost cause.

If it was edible, it didn't stand a chance.

"Seriously..." Shido muttered, dragging his feet as he approached the convenience store. "I've heard of feeding the hungry, but this is ridiculous. At this rate, I'm going to have to learn farming just to keep up."

Even as he grumbled, an image of Tohka's bright, smiling face flashed through his mind—the way her eyes sparkled with joy whenever he handed her a freshly cooked meal.

He sighed, shaking his head. "Well... I guess it's worth it. Kind of."

About fifteen minutes later, the cheerful beep of the convenience store's door chime rang out as Shido stepped back into the evening air.

In his hands, two bulging plastic bags strained against their handles, stuffed with what he hoped would be enough for dinner—plus a few extra ingredients, just in case Tohka's appetite once again exceeded his calculations.

"Better safe than sorry."

The warm glow of the store's sign faded behind him as he passed through the city's quiet streets. Above, streetlights flickered to life, casting faint halos on the pavement.

A cool evening breeze stirred, rustling the plastic bags in his grip and sending dry leaves skittering across the sidewalk.

As his footsteps echoed softly in the quieting street, he halted midway up the hill leading home. His gaze drifted toward the city below, peering through the gaps in the hillside fences.

The skyline shimmered—a kaleidoscope of lights flickering against the darkening sky. Yet, the view wasn't what had stopped him. Nor was it fatigue.

His thoughts, quiet until now, stirred.

Standing there, he found himself recalling the conversation he'd had with Kotori two weeks ago, shortly after their return from the school trip.

"Another Spirit appeared?!"

Shido's voice shot up in alarm, the fork in his hand slipping from his grip and clattering against the plate.

Kotori, seated across from him with her trademark red ribbon slightly askew, gave a sharp nod.

"Yes. While we were away on Arubi Island."

She slid her tablet across the table. The screen was paused on a grainy video.

"Here," she said simply.

Shido hesitated before pulling the device closer, his fingers brushing against its edge. He tapped the screen, and the footage began to play.

The video, shaky and dimly lit, was clearly recorded from a drone. The first few frames revealed an immense, gaping void—at least two kilometers wide—ripping through the heart of the city.

His brows knitted together as he leaned in, eyes tracing the scorched, jagged edges of the hole.

"A spacequake..."

"Of course," Kotori said, crossing her arms. "That's inevitable when a Spirit manifests."

He was about to nod in agreement when the footage shifted—and his breath caught.

The drone panned outward, revealing the devastation beyond the crater.

The city wasn't just ruined. It was overgrown.

Vines as thick as skyscrapers coiled around what remained of the buildings, their tendrils piercing through shattered glass and steel. 

Towering trees, their trunks larger than anything Shido had ever seen, stretched skyward, their dense canopies swallowing the sunlight.

The streets, once teeming with life, had vanished beneath a carpet of roots, moss, and wildflowers in a riot of colors. It was like something straight out of a post-apocalyptic film.

"The whole city..."

"Became a jungle," Kotori finished as she leaned in, flicking through the footage until she paused on a still image.

"Here. Take a look at this."

"I-Is that...?"

The image was grainy, its resolution poor, but there was no mistaking it.

Suspended high above the overgrown city, a figure floated in midair.

A girl—the Spirit.

Her long, silvery-white hair shimmered faintly, casting an otherworldly glow against the dim, tangled canopy below.

Black markings twisted across her pale skin, spiraling like a macabre tapestry. Several thorned vines coiled around her, slithering as though alive, their sharp tips twitching in anticipation.

She wore a sinuous red dress, its flowing fabric strikingly reminiscent of a wedding gown. Yet parts of it were in tatters, jaggedly torn where the vines had pierced through, as if they had claimed it as their own.

Her hands were encased in sleek, elbow-length black gloves, matching her thigh-high stockings and heeled shoes.

What caught Shido's attention most, though, was the thorned headband crowning her head. Its dark, twisted design pulsed faintly, as though it were alive, and it appeared to be the origin of the creeping vines that enveloped her.

The image sat him freeze, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen.

Kotori watched him carefully before tapping the edge of the table, getting his attention back. 

"Thankfully, the team we left behind managed to activate the Spacequake sirens before it happened. Most of the civilians reached the shelters in time. And those who didn't... were evacuated by the AST. There were no recorded fatalities"

Shido exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That's a relief,"

Kotori's expression, however, darkened as her gaze flicked away for a brief moment. It was subtle, but Shido caught it.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Kotori hesitated, her arms crossing tighter across her chest bracing herself for what she was about to say. She looked directly at Shido's eyes.

"We have records and evidence indicating that the spirit appeared approximately thirty minutes before the Spacequake happened."

Shido blinked in confusion. "Wait—what? Don't Spirits cause Spacequakes immediately upon manifesting in this world?"

"Normally, yes," Kotori admitted, her tone grim. "But what's unusual here is how long the delay was. Thirty minutes is... unprecedented. It suggests..."

The words lingered unspoken on Kotori's lips, but Shido's mind raced ahead, filling in the gap. A chilling image surfaced in his memory—a girl with crimson eyes and a haunting smile. Kurumi, the Spirit of Nightmare.

"She caused the Spacequake... by her own will,"

Kotori's eyes narrowed at his words. "Exactly. Just like how Kurumi was able to manipulate when and where a Spacequake occurred back then... it's highly likely the same case here."

"But why?"

It was an honest question from Shido. He truly was confused. Tohka, Yoshino, Kaguya, and Yuzuru—all of them had been careless about the Spacequakes they caused, unaware of their destructive impact.

Even Kurumi, as terrifying as she was, hadn't truly intended to harm innocents with the Spacequake back at the roof of Raizen High School. 

Shido was certain of it. She had used the threat of a Spacequake as nothing more than a lure—to draw him to the rooftop and... eat him. Quite literally.

Every Spirit he had encountered so far had either been unaware of their actions or had a clear motive behind them. Which meant this one, whoever she was, must have had a reason too.

As he mulled it over, Kotori interrupted his thoughts.

"She wasn't hiding, Shido. The Spirit was in plain sight—high in the sky, visible to anyone. It's almost as if she wanted to be seen."

Shido's brow furrowed, trying to pick up on Kotori's hint, but the reasoning still escaped him. "Wouldn't that just draw more attention to her? Like... make it easier for the AST to find her?"

Kotori didn't answer immediately. Instead, she kept her gaze steady, locking eyes with him, as though giving him the space to connect the dots himself.

The silence stretched between them, and Shido's eyes drifted slowly downward toward the tablet between his hands, The cool blue glow from the screen illuminated his unfocused face.

The fragments of the situation started to piece themselves together—slowly, but steadily.

And then it clicked.

"Her goal from the start was... to lure the AST to her."

Just as shido widned his eyes in realization, Kotori withdrew her eyes downward.

"The moment the AST came into view, the spirit—code name, <<Gaia>>—didn't flinch or hesitate. She launched her attack immediately as if she already knew exactly what she was aiming for."

Shido leaned back slightly, processing her words. This time, the scenario didn't leave him confused.

A Spirit targeting the AST wasn't entirely unexpected. He could easily imagine one of them harboring a grudge after everything the AST had done to them—Harming, threatening, treating them as nothing more than enemies to be eliminated... With all of that, a Spirit retaliating made sense.

But even as he reasoned through it, Shido's thoughts drifted elsewhere. His worry wasn't for the Spirit—at least, not right now.

It was for the AST themselves.

Sure, he could understand why the AST relentlessly pursued Spirits. To them, Spirits were simply the cause of spacequakes—a threat to humanity. 

He was certain they didn't know—or perhaps chose not to know—that most Spirits weren't even aware of their connection to those spacequakes. It was all one big misunderstanding spiraling out of control.

However this time...

This time, the AST wouldn't be able to afford the consequences of their mistake—especially not against a Spirit like this.

Shido's grip tightened around the tablet, the weight of realization settling heavily on his shoulders.

The AST might have advanced tech, mag-equipped suits, and years of experience in fighting Spirits. He'd seen them in action before—against Tohka, against Yoshino. They were strong—machines of war, even if he hated calling them that.

But against this Spirit...

Against someone wielding such overwhelmingly destructive power with clear, deliberate intent against them especially without their trump card, Tobiichi Origami...

They were running straight to their doom.

Kotori seemed to sense his unease as she let out an exhausted sigh,

"You're thinking it too, aren't you?"

Shido's voice came out quieter than he intended, barely above a whisper.

"What... happened to them? Did they..."

"..."

Kotori uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. Without a word, she reached for the tablet in Shido's hands, gently sliding it from his grip. Her fingers moved swiftly across the screen as she navigated to another piece of footage.

"This one's shorter, only about fourteen seconds. But it'll explain everything—or, at least, enough for now."

Shido's gaze remained fixed on Kotori as she angled the tablet toward him.

The video began, showing the AST unit in complete disarray, their formation shattered. 

Explosions erupted in the background, accompanied by the eerie sound of vines coiling around machinery. 

The drone's camera shook violently, struggling to keep a steady recording amidst the destruction.

"As you'd expect, they were completely destroyed,"

Her voice carries none of the satisfaction one might expect from her critique of the AST. 

"But..."

She paused, and Shido noticed the faintest furrow in her brow.

"There are no death records. Injuries, sure. But nothing fatal."

The statement pulled Shido's attention back to the tablet, his confusion evident as his gaze lingered on the footage.

"How?"

It was a relief to know no lives were lost amidst such chaos, but based on the video, it seemed almost impossible that any of the AST could have survived.

Maybe the Spirit hadn't intended to kill, he thought. Or perhaps the vines were designed to restrain rather than harm. But each idea felt incomplete, riddled with unanswered questions that gnawed at him.

It wasn't until Kotori started the second part of the recording that the situation began to make sense.

The video displayed one of the AST members ensnared by a massive vine—alive but utterly trapped. The Spirit, <<Gaia>>, loomed over them, her right arm poised as if clenching something invisible in her grip. 

The tendril mirrored her movements, coiling tighter, its grip on the captive growing increasingly suffocating.

Though the audio was distorted, the AST member's scream cut through with horrifying clarity.

Instinctively, Shido's eyes twitched, ready to look away before the inevitable.

But just as he prepared to avert his gaze, everything stopped.

A sharp gunshot rang out, cutting through the chaos, and the vines froze mid-motion as if commanded to stand down.

Before Shido could make sense of it, the footage abruptly cut out.

The final image captured by the drone's lens was a tangled mass of greenery, accompanied by the haunting echo of a giggle that sent a chill down Shido's spine.

Kotori placed the tablet down with a soft thud, her crimson eyes fixed intently on Shido. 

"The drones were likely damaged by whatever happened next. That's all the footage we have."

But Shido wasn't listening anymore. The eerie giggle replayed in his mind,  and before he could stop himself, the name escaped his lips.

"Kurumi..."

Though the tablet lay facedown on the table, Shido's gaze lingered on it, blankly.

"Kurumi... saved them?"

Kotori leaned back in her chair, her finger tapping rhythmically on the wooden table.

"'Saved' might be a strong word, but yes, if not for Kurumi's intervention, it's unlikely the AST would've made it out alive."

Shido's eyes flicked up to meet Kotori's.

"Why would she do that? Kurumi's never cared about humans before—not like this."

"That's the question, isn't it?" Kotori replied with a weary sigh. "Her motives are never clear. But what we do know is that, by her actions, the AST were spared."

She let the silence linger for a moment before reaching for the tablet again.

"And that's not all. The footage might have ended, but the story didn't stop there."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"All the nearby surveillance cameras were destroyed, so we don't have any visuals. But..." Kotori's fingers glided across the tablet, pulling up a graph riddled with sharp, chaotic spikes.

"We do have Reiryoku wave readings from the area—two distinct sets of charts. From this, we can tell the fight between Kurumi and <<Gaia>> lasted at least two hours, before..."

...

 "Before, <<Gaia>>'s waves disappeared."

Shido, however, wasn't paying full attention to Kotori's words. His focus was entirely on the tablet screen in Kotori's hands. Something clearly wasn't right.

The graph displayed two waveforms—one red, the other green. It wasn't hard to deduce that the red represented Kurumi's Reiryoku levels, while the green signified <<Gaia>>'s.

But what immediately caught Shido's attention was the stark contrast between them.

<<Gaia>>'s Reiryoku levels were in the negatives.

Meanwhile, Kurumi's levels steadily increased with each reading—each interval representing roughly fifteen minutes.

<<Gaia>>'s, however, continued to drop, sinking further into the negative, as if mirroring Kurumi's growth... but in the opposite direction.

At the two-hour mark—the point when Kotori mentioned <<Bride>>'s sudden disappearance—the green chart shifted dramatically. 

<<Bride>>'s Reiryoku levels spiked sharply, suddenly breaking into the positive for the first time, before her reading vanished entirely, leaving only Kurumi's as it returned to its baseline.

"Inverse Spirit..."

Shido sighed, shaking off the memory as he continued his climb up the hill toward home.

The city looked as though nothing had ever happened. The damage had been repaired so thoroughly that, if Kotori hadn't told him about the battle, he would never have guessed two Spirits had fought there.

Since that day,  <<Gaia>> hadn't appeared again...

The thought of her being an Inverse Spirit only complicated matters further.

An Inverse Spirit—a manifestation of a Spirit overcome by severe negative emotions, so overwhelming that they lose all control of themselves.

According to Kotori, even if he had been there when everything happened, there likely would have been nothing he could do. Once a Spirit reached their Inverse form, it was nearly impossible to bring them back.

"Nearly..."

Shido murmured the word, his mind drifting into deep thought. With a sigh, he lifted his gaze to the road ahead. His house was now in sight, just a few buildings away.

"Oh!"

He came to an abrupt halt, a small sound escaping his lips as if he'd just remembered something.

Dropping one of the plastic bags, he used that hand to rummage through the other.

"Hm?"

His brow furrowed as his search came up empty. He then moved to the dropped bag, digging through it with growing urgency.

"...I forgot the spices... and I was so sure I wouldn't this time,"

He straightened up, scratching the back of his head as his eyes drifted down the hill toward the convenience store, then back up to the sky, weighing his options.

If he went back now, there'd be no time to prepare lunch before Tohka descended into one of her stomach-driven rampages.

The mere thought of the scene sent an involuntary chill down his spine.

"Yeah, let's avoid that at all costs,"

...

Reaching up to scratch his chin, his mind scrambled for a solution, his eyes darting aimlessly around the area.

"Hm?"

Only then, did his gaze land on a small gap between two buildings—a narrow alleyway that led to the neighboring district.

A memory surfaced in that instant.

Lifting the bags firmly into his grasp, he quickened his pace toward the alleyway.

"Please be open..."

In the neighboring district, there was a small shop he used to visit as a kid—a cozy little place run by an old lady who always had a kind smile and a stash of the best ice cream.

He used to go there often, not just for the ice cream and candy, but for the arcade tucked in the back, where he spent hours playing games like Pickman and Street Fight.

But as the years passed, the shop's doors opened less and less. 

He'd overheard something about the lady's health declining, making it harder for her to keep the place running by herself.

The odds weren't in his favor, especially at this hour, but he didn't have many options left.

The hallway stretched out before him, dim and slightly damp. He kept brushing against pipes by mistake only to step into something unidentifiable—something he decided he was better off not thinking about.

Emerging on the other side, he turned onto the familiar street, his heart pounding. The shop's worn wooden sign swung slightly in the evening breeze as he squinted toward the entrance.

"...Lights?"

The faint glow from within sent a surge of relief through him, though he didn't let himself celebrate just yet. 

Approaching the door, he narrowed his eyes.

Someone stood near the entrance—gathering items and moving them inside—They're closing!

"Wait! Wait! Don't close yet!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, sprinting down the street like his life depended on it.

To an outsider, it might seem like a dramatic overreaction, but they didn't know how terrifying Tohka could be when she was hungry. He'd take any amount of embarrassment if it meant avoiding that nightmare.

"Hm?"

The person moving items inside froze mid-motion, their head tilting as they stared toward the source of the growing commotion in the distance.

From the shadows, all they could make out was a frantic figure barreling toward them, flailing wildly and screaming.

"EEK!! A crazy person!!"

They dropped the vase they were holding—a massive flowerpot they were holding with a loud thud and bolted inside, slamming the door shut with a panicked shout, 

"W-We're closed! G-Go away!"

Shido skidded to a stop just as the door slammed in his face. He bent over, panting heavily.

"No, no, no! I'm not crazy, I swear! Just... huff... give me a sec... huff~ huff~"

Straightening up, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Fyuu~ Man, did I just hit 50 already? That sprint took it out of me."

Inside, the worker peeked through the glass on the door, messy, unkempt brown hair spilling over their eyes as they squinted at him in utter confusion.

They weren't entirely sure what they were dealing with—a lunatic or just someone terribly out of shape.

He gave a sheepish wave, grinning nervously.

"Uh, hi? I just... really need some spices"

"Eh?"