"It's all over now," Hasegumo said, returning to the shrine and addressing the elderly man and the young boy.
"But Hirayama-sama is dead..." the child sobbed.
the old man gave the boy's head a light, reprimanding pat. "Hirayama-sama cannot die. As long as we offer him our sincere devotion, he will always protect us."
The old man turned and pulled the child into a deep bow toward Hasegumo. "Thank you for your help. Without you, this shrine would have been destroyed. Both we and Hirayama-sama will remember this debt of gratitude."
"There's no need for such formality. Exorcising Curses is our duty," Hasegumo said, reaching out to stop their bowing. He wasn't particularly fond of being thanked this way. To him, a hearty meal was a much more pleasant form of gratitude than a cheap bow; food allowed him to experience the beauty of life far more viscerally. "My name is Hasegumo. And who might this 'Hirayama-sama' be?"
"My apologies, Yun-kun. I am Shougo Kansuuryuu, and this is my grandson, Kiyotaka."
"Hello, Big Brother! I'm Kiyotaka Kansuuryuu. I'm six years old!" the boy chirped in a crisp, adorable voice that was impossible to dislike.
Hasegumo couldn't help but lean down and pinch the boy's chubby cheek before looking back at the elder Kansuuryuu.
"Hirayama-sama's true name is Hirayama Jirobou, the Great Tengu enshrined here. He entered a Shikigami contract with our Kansuuryuu clan long ago," the old man explained, pointing toward a sword rack. "In the past, the Jujutsu world classified him as a Special Grade Imaginary Vengeful Spirit. Our family has served him for generations. That blade there is the legendary weapon of the Great Tengu: the Jirobou-giri."
Special Grade? Hasegumo thought. The other energy signature I sensed before coming up the mountain was barely at a Grade 2 level. He kept the thought to himself, waiting for the old man to continue.
"For generations, the Kansuuryuu clan produced sorcerers who could maintain the contract with Hirayama-sama. In my youth, I also worked as a sorcerer, but for various reasons, I left the profession to return to the family shrine."
"They say that many generations ago, an ancestor was out exorcising Curses with Hirayama-sama when they encountered three bat Curses in the mountains—two Special Grades and a Grade 2. That ancestor and Hirayama-sama fought to the death to take down the two Special Grades, but the Grade 2 escaped. The Grade 1 Curse that came for revenge today was likely that survivor from all those years ago."
"Though the ancestor and Hirayama-sama perished back then, as an Imaginary Spirit, Hirayama-sama is essentially immortal. He slowly reincarnates through our family's faith. However, without his active protection, our family's influence waned rapidly over the next few generations until we reached the state we are in today."
Shougo Kansuuryuu sighed mournfully, finding a few intact chairs and gesturing for Hasegumo to sit.
"Our relationship with Hirayama-sama is symbiotic. However, the contract is not a simple matter. To receive his aid, one must establish a Binding Vow to offer their own innate technique as a sacrifice. The stronger the technique offered, the more powerful Hirayama-sama becomes. The same applies to his recovery from death."
"In the past, no one in the family ever awakened a technique that reached a Special Grade level on its own, so everyone was willing to sacrifice their technique in exchange for Hirayama-sama's protection. Once the contract is sealed, Hirayama-sama's Cursed Energy actually flows back into the sorcerer, making them physically stronger."
"Let me guess," Hasegumo interjected. "To revive him after he dies, you need a powerful sorcerer to seal a new contract. But a contract with a low-level sorcerer is useless for his resurrection. So, a sorcerer must first become strong on their own before offering their technique to him, right?"
"Exactly. But my father, my grandfather, and even my son lacked the talent to reach the Special Grade level. They failed to realize this, only wanting to make the offering once they attained that rank. Sadly, they all died on missions before they could ever establish the Binding Vow with Hirayama-sama."
"Other members of the family managed to become Grade 1 sorcerers, but their faith wasn't pure. They wanted to enjoy Hirayama-sama's power without paying the price of their own techniques."
The old man paused. "Historically, Hirayama-sama's strength upon revival is directly tied to the grade of the sorcerer making the offering. If the sorcerer isn't a Special Grade, he requires multiple offerings from Grade 1 or Special Grade sorcerers to regain his full power. That has been proven in our records."
"When the Bat Curse attacked the shrine today, I had no choice. To protect Kiyotaka, I sacrificed my own technique. Because I was his only limit, Hirayama-sama revived as a mere Grade 2. He fought with everything he had to protect us, but he was killed again."
No wonder that Grade 1 Bat Curse was so weak in actual combat, Hasegumo realized. It had already been worn down.
"You are a Grade 1 sorcerer, aren't you?" Shougo Kansuuryuu asked. "Kiyotaka awakened his innate technique when he was three, and it is incredibly powerful. I believe he has the potential for Special Grade. I was wondering... would you be willing to take him as a disciple?"
Hasegumo waved his hands dismissively. "I'm just a lowly Grade 2. I'm enrolling in Jujutsu High next year; I'm in no position to be a master. However..."
Hasegumo reached out and gave Kiyotaka's shoulder a firm squeeze. "I'm a practitioner of Shingen-ryu martial arts. Little Kiyotaka seems to have a good build. Would you be interested in joining the dojo? Martial arts is best started young. When he grows up, I'll personally recommend him to Jujutsu High."
"Martial arts? Certainly! Then I leave Kiyotaka in your hands. But truly, someone of your strength is only a Grade 2? I don't believe I'm mistaken—you are destined to become a very powerful sorcerer."
Hasegumo stood up. "I'll take that as a blessing."
Suddenly remembering something, Hasegumo leaned down again. "Hey, little Kiyotaka. What exactly is your technique?"
The little tyke wiped his nose and replied, "I don't really know, Big Brother. It's super complicated. But Grandpa says it has to do with 'Time.' He says I'll understand when I grow up and learn more about Jujutsu."
"Time? Wow, that's hard to even imagine. But listen, Kiyotaka," Hasegumo said, his voice turning serious. "You need to think about this carefully. Time is a domain rarely touched by mortals. No matter what, it will be a terrifyingly powerful technique. It could give you anything you want and make your life effortless. If the day comes when you truly become a Special Grade, will you still be willing to give that power up to Hirayama-sama?"
The boy seemed to sense the weight of the question. He nodded solemnly. "That's what I want. Hirayama-sama has always protected us. So... so when I grow up, I want to protect him too. I'll make sure he comes back for good."
Hasegumo patted the boy's head. "Alright then, Old-Timer. When you have the time, bring Kiyotaka to the Shingen-ryu Dojo. If I'm not there, look for a man named Gen Ijichi. I'll ask the master to take him in and teach him well."
"Well then, see you next time."
"Bye-bye, Big Brother!"
With the recent exorcism mission complete, it was time for some relaxing dog-walking.
Six months had passed since Kiyotaka began his training at the dojo. Every time Hasegumo finished a mission, he would sneak a peek at the boy's progress. Because of his own personality, Hasegumo couldn't bring himself to be a strict teacher to a child, so he had simply pawned the job off on Gen Ijichi.
Initially, Gen hadn't been thrilled about taking in a "little tag-along." However, after a month of training, Gen's tune had changed entirely. In his words: Even without Hasegumo, the revival of Shingen-ryu is guaranteed.
Kiyotaka's learning speed was staggering. Once Gen learned that the boy intended to sacrifice his technique in the future, his dedication to teaching him became even more intense than it had been with Hasegumo. After all, Hasegumo would always be a sorcerer first. But once Kiyotaka gave up his technique, he would likely leave the Jujutsu world and could serve as the public face of Shingen-ryu.
Back to Hasegumo: Today, he had brought Hachi to the dojo, and Kiyotaka had been instantly smitten with the aging, slow-moving Shiba Inu. After training ended—and after Hasegumo finished his daily "Revealing One's Hand" quota—Kiyotaka had begged to join him for a walk.
An autumn breeze swept through the park, stirring the fallen leaves. The afternoon air held a seasonal chill but remained pleasant under the warm sunlight filtering through the thinning trees.
Hasegumo held the leash, eyes half-closed in contentment, as Hachi and Kiyotaka ambled along ahead of him.
Suddenly, a golden retriever came charging toward Hachi. Hachi wasn't bothered in the slightest, and the two dogs were soon a blur of fur and wagging tails. Kiyotaka joined in, and the "three little ones" were soon rolling around on the grass in a chaotic, joyful heap.
"Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry, I hope he didn't scare the kids! Kintaro doesn't have a mean bone in his body, it's just... not many people live around here, and there aren't many other dogs. He was just so happy to see a friend."
Hasegumo turned around to find a young woman standing behind him, holding an empty leash. She had a kind, youthful face rich with collagen.
"No problem at all," Hasegumo replied with a smile. "And for the record, I'm only eighteen. I'm a bit young to have a kid that age."
"Sumimasen!" The girl went to bow in apology, but she was quite heavy-set and struggled to bend down, so she gave up with a sheepish look. "It's just... your face. It's hard to tell your age. You could be twenty or thirty and I'd believe both. Anyway, I'm sorry."
"I'll take that as a compliment on my maturity. And might I ask your age, Miss?"
"A lady's age is a secret!"
"Fair enough. But if you let me guess, I might be wildly off the mark," Hasegumo countered.
The girl let out a musical laugh. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Hisazakuro Nagasawa. I'm sixteen and a high school student."
Hasegumo offered his hand. "Pleasure. I'm Hasegumo. I'm eighteen and I study at a martial arts dojo. My goal is to become Japan's number one exorcist."
Nagasawa gave his hand a brief, light shake. "Did I hear that right? Do martial arts and exorcism have something to do with each other?"
"Of course. When people try to beat you up for being a fraud, martial arts helps you protect yourself."
"Hahaha!" Nagasawa laughed so hard she almost teared up.
The two sat on the grass, watching Kiyotaka play with the dogs. "So, Gumo-kun... why aren't you in school?"
Hasegumo heard the unspoken question in her voice. "I'm not a delinquent or anything. I just lived in the mountains since I was a kid. By the time I came down, I was fourteen and had missed the window for enrollment."
"Whoa, cool! It's the twenty-first century and people still live in the mountains? Did you go hunting and stuff?"
"I did. Hachi here is a pro hunter. When I was little, he'd catch rabbits for me and my grandpa all the time."
"Sugoi ne!"
Nagasawa suddenly looked worriedly over at the dogs.
"Don't worry," Hasegumo assured her. "Hachi is smart. He knows the difference between prey and a friend."
Nagasawa patted her chest in relief. "So, why did you leave the mountains?"
"My grandpa passed away. Living in the mountains alone... it gets lonely."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Hasegumo said. "Death is something every living thing experiences. My grandpa's spirit wouldn't want me to be miserable, so I try to keep smiling."
He turned to her with a bright, beaming smile—one so warm it felt like it could melt the autumn frost.
Hasegumo stood up and walked over to a nearby vending machine. "Want something to drink? Oolong tea?"
"Anything is fine."
"Here." Hasegumo handed her a bottle and sat back down.
"Arigato. Wait... you bought a girl a cola?"
"Is there a problem? You're clearly on the heavier side, so I figured you liked sweets. I'm the same way," Hasegumo said, raising his own bottle of cola.
"That's... kind of rude to say out loud," she replied. Even so, the way he said it was so matter-of-fact and devoid of malice that it was hard to take offense. "Do you always talk to girls like that? Aren't you afraid of being hated?"
"I don't really know many girls. Since leaving the mountains, I worked at a shop where there were a few older female coworkers. If I said something they didn't like, I'd just apologize. Oh..."
Hasegumo had a sudden realization. "If I offended you, I am truly sorry."
He started to stand up to give a formal apology, but Nagasawa placed a hand on his leg, nudging him back down.
"It's fine. I'm not that petty. Besides, you weren't mocking me."
She sighed softly. "I used to be very outgoing. But I loved sweets too much, and in middle school, I just... blew up."
"By high school, I looked like this. Some kids in class made fun of me, though others told them to stop. Even if I was angry, I had to pretend I was fine."
"After that, I started hearing people talking behind my back. On the surface, everyone acts like they treat me the same, but I can feel it. I can see the disgust in their eyes. I didn't want to force myself to be their friend, so I just... became isolated."
"I wish we could swap," she joked. "If I'd grown up in the mountains, I definitely wouldn't be this fat."
"But then you'd have no friends anyway, because there's no one else in the mountains."
"Haha, don't be so literal!" She gave him a playful nudge. "But why aren't you like that? I don't see those 'eyes' when you look at me. Don't you think I look ugly?"
"Physique is different from facial features. Isn't it something you choose?" Hasegumo countered. "If you don't like being this way, why don't you change it?"
"But losing weight is so hard! I tried dieting for months, but nothing happened."
"So you just gave up?"
"I... I didn't want to. But it really didn't work," she said, her voice sounding a little small and hurt.
"If you want to change, don't give up. Let me tell you why I look at you the same way I look at anyone else."
"Whether it's an old man, a child, a woman, a man, fat or thin... in my eyes, everyone is the same. They are all 'the weak' who need protecting. I was born with a talent that sets me apart from others. I'm grateful for that gift. If I can only do one thing well in this brief life, my choice is to protect the weak."
Hasegumo looked at her with absolute sincerity. "So, whether you're tall, short, fat, or thin, it's all the same to me. You are someone who needs protecting. That's all."
"That sounds like something a superhero would say."
Hasegumo replied with total earnestness, "Becoming a Kamen Rider was actually one of my childhood dreams. Anyway, if you have a goal, work for it. Martial arts is grueling, but I've never once thought about quitting."
"Thank you, Gumo-kun. I feel like I just got a massive dose of 'positive energy' forced down my throat." Nagasawa stood up. "I didn't realize how late it was getting. I should go. Kintaro!"
"See you later, Gumo-kun! Bye-bye, little guy!"
"See you when I see you." Hasegumo picked up the leash, and Hachi took his usual spot in the lead.
Little Kiyotaka wasn't about to be outdone. He looked back over his shoulder and shouted his parting shot: "Bye-bye, Chubby Onee-san!"