Tokyo Exorcism Diary

The sound of the shower stopped, and the light spilling out through the bathroom door crack went out.

Hoshino Gen came out dressed in a white long-sleeve shirt and black casual slacks.

The first thing he saw was his younger sister, Hoshino Rin, collapsed on the carpet in his room, and beside her, the unsheathed black cursed blade.

Pausing for a couple of seconds to think, Hoshino Gen still couldn’t figure out what had happened. He approached Hoshino Rin, crouched down, and checked her breathing. Confirming she was alive, he let out a small sigh of relief.

The red streak on the girl’s slender, pale fingers was glaringly obvious. Hoshino Gen immediately noticed it. He picked up Hoshino Rin’s left hand and examined it closely, spotting faint wisps of black mist lingering around her injured fingertip.

“Ugh…”

A faint sob escaped. Hoshino Gen looked at Hoshino Rin’s face—so beautiful it could almost be called flawless. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Even though her eyes were tightly shut, her expression betrayed the sheer terror she was experiencing.

Hoshino Gen recalled how earlier, at the dojo, when the same blade pierced his palm, he too felt on the verge of passing out. But he had managed to cleanse the invading black mist with a purification talisman before it could take hold, so he hadn’t experienced what unconsciousness would entail.

Letting out a deep sigh, Hoshino Gen, already feeling thoroughly drained, seriously considered the consequences of tossing his sister out of the room and collapsing onto his bed for a deep, oblivious sleep.

But looking at her tear-streaked face—even unconscious, she was still crying—he couldn’t help but recall the little girl from thirteen years ago, the one who used to trail behind him, crying and calling out, “Onii-chan, play with me!”

Being reborn is such a drag. Even memories from infancy are impossible to forget.

Hoshino Gen extended a forefinger and gently touched Hoshino Rin’s smooth, delicate forehead. A soft white glow formed at the tip of his finger.

Closing his eyes, Hoshino Gen felt his consciousness plunging into darkness.

Moments later, he reopened his eyes to find himself in a desolate corner of a city shrouded in night.

“No… please…”

A beautiful girl slumped on the ground, her figure overshadowed by a tall silhouette. The figure wielded a sinister blade that gleamed with a blood-red light, swinging it mercilessly at the girl.

After a piercing scream, the girl fell into a pool of blood. Like a fallen angel, even her death carried a heart-wrenching beauty.

The world shattered like the girl’s life at that moment, only to piece itself back together quickly.

The girl who had just died came back to life. Terrified, she ran down the desolate road under the night sky, pursued relentlessly by the dark figure with the blade.

If nothing else changed, the events that had just unfolded would repeat in moments.

Hoshino Gen instantly grasped the consequence of being wounded by this blade—one’s consciousness would be dragged into a nightmare, forced to relive a dreamscape where they were killed repeatedly. The psychological toll would make breaking someone’s spirit absurdly easy.

No wonder the blade, imbued with the spirit of a vengeful ghost for over 140 years, was so dangerous. Its insidious nature was remarkable.

Hoshino Gen couldn’t help but marvel inwardly at the blade’s eerie power. Watching his sister, Hoshino Rin, whose expression teetered on the brink of collapse, he raised his right hand. A bright yellow talisman appeared between his fingers.

Wow, things are so convenient in dreams.

Expressionless, Hoshino Gen noted this with mild amazement while his feet were already in motion. The talisman dissolved into ash in his palm, morphing into a long icicle that floated into his grasp.

Meanwhile, on the desolate road, Hoshino Rin, panicked, tripped and fell. She sobbed as she tried to crawl backward, knowing exactly what was about to happen. The dark silhouette loomed closer, its shadow stretching toward her under the dim streetlight.

The blood-red blade was raised once more.

“No… please…”

Through tear-filled eyes, Hoshino Rin choked out her plea. “Somebody save me…”

Fear had already crushed her. Stuck in this inexplicable place, endlessly killed over and over again, she could barely process the pain anymore. The suffocating darkness of death alone was enough to break her.

At some point, she had stopped keeping track of how many cycles it had been. All she could do was pray that she wouldn’t wake up after the next death. Yet the blade fell again and again.

The familiar whistle of the blade cutting through the air rang out, and Hoshino Rin reflexively clenched her eyes shut.

But the expected agony and suffocation didn’t come.

Instead, there was a crisp clang! as if something collided before her.

Hoshino Rin’s lashes fluttered. Tentatively, she cracked her eyes open, her dimly lit heterochromatic gaze fixating on the scene before her.

The boy, who shared the same heterochromatic eyes as her, blocked the blood-red blade with a long icicle. His face, bearing a striking resemblance to hers, held a calm smile.

The cycle was broken.

The icicle deflected the crimson blade. Hoshino Gen lunged forward, almost diving into the shadowy figure’s arms.

He raised his knee, slamming it into the figure’s abdomen. As the shadow staggered back, he followed up with a whip-like kick to its right arm. The blow struck hard, forcing the hand holding the blade to release it. The weapon fell as expected.

Seizing the moment, Hoshino Gen used the icicle to flick the blade toward himself. With that, he had disarmed his opponent.

“As I thought.” Holding the icicle in one hand and the demonic blade in the other, Hoshino Gen looked at the shadow in front of him with a sigh of disappointment. “Illusions are much weaker than the real thing.”

Casually tossing aside the freezing icicle, he shifted the blade to his right hand and murmured to himself, “But, that makes things easier. I guess that’s a good outcome in the end.”

As he finished speaking, he flicked his left hand, releasing five talismans into the air. With a step forward, he thrust the blade. The five talismans, strung together, transformed into a blinding burst of electricity that enveloped the crimson blade. It pierced through the shadow’s form and cut through the darkness of the night itself.

…

Hoshino Gen opened his eyes. The scene of the desolate city faded, replaced by the familiar sight of his room.

He withdrew the finger pressed against Hoshino Rin’s forehead, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness.

The aftereffects of the dream-entering technique were rather unpleasant.

Forcing himself to endure the spinning sensation, Hoshino Gen checked his sister’s injured finger again. Confirming that the black mist had completely dissipated.

He lifted Hoshino Rin off the floor. Despite his exhaustion, the splitting headache, and the sharp pain in his right hand, carrying her wasn’t difficult—her idol’s slender figure was surprisingly light. Soft and fragrant, holding her was unexpectedly comfortable.

Not that it mattered to him in the slightest. Without hesitation, he dumped his sister onto the living room sofa and immediately returned to his room.

The door clicked shut behind him, followed by the distinct sound of the lock engaging.