Huhuhu! Midterms Are the Real Demons
Huhuhu! ……What in the world am I supposed to do about this? I finally saved the world, and now midterms are tormenting me. I mean, I didn't study at all.
"Ugh, if I'd known, I should've studied instead of training at dawn."
Why had he forgotten it was exam week? Kenichi clutched his head, cursing his idiotic memory.
Mid.terms.
Those four letters hit him like a truck, snapping back the sense of reality he'd lost after slaying thousands of yokai. What the hell was he supposed to do about this—
"Oh? Kenichi. Got something weighing on your mind?"
"……."
Just then, a voice laced with amusement came from the seat behind him. Turning around, he saw Ichimaru Shiki wearing his usual sinister grin.
Kenichi stared blankly at him for a moment before his eyes darted around wildly, glaring at the guy he'd trained with until dawn.
"……You knew, didn't you?! Why didn't you tell me we had exams this week!"
"Eh? It's not like it's a pop quiz. Does a student really not know when their own exams are? I figured there was no need to mention it."
"……What a load of crap!"
"Huhuhu, Kenichi. Exams are meant to reflect your usual skills, right? Don't tell me you're not confident?"
Shiki's face was its typical smirking self, but today it felt even more mocking somehow.
"……Grrrr."
If I were just a bit stronger, I'd smash that smug face, Kenichi thought, glaring daggers at Shiki to vent his frustration.
Regaining his composure, he deliberately ignored the grin and turned back to the front.
……I can't let this shady bastard distract me. Midterms start tomorrow!
Yes. The situation was so dire he had no bandwidth for anything else. Honestly, if the end of the world that Shiki kept yapping about actually came, who cared about test scores? ……But still.
Midterms were a nerve-wracking event even for a student who'd half-assed his studies. And after skipping that math homework last time, their homeroom teacher had been shooting him murderous looks.
……If he bombed this exam too, the guy might actually kill him.
Plus, it was a matter of pride.
There's a world of difference between 'just bad at studying' and dead last in the whole school.
'Dead last = deadbeat' was a formula that held from the old Kamakura shogunate pottery era to the new Reiwa period under the current emperor.
For the sake of his image, he had to avoid bottom rank—or anything close.
But ever since high school started, Kenichi hadn't cracked a book, making him a prime candidate for last place. He desperately needed to cram.
……If Hotaru were here, we could study together.
Kenichi glanced at the empty seat beside him. She'd called in sick over the weekend, and even after morning homeroom, she still hadn't shown.
Diligent Hotaru wouldn't oversleep and be late, so she must still be feeling under the weather.
"Ughhh."
Suddenly worried about both his own fate and his childhood friend's, Kenichi groaned.
Maybe I should just say screw it all.
That was the moment—
Creak—
The back door of the classroom before class slid open.
Turning, he saw the most familiar face in the room. Ichinose Hotaru.
Kenichi lit up at his childhood friend's arrival, but soon noticed her condition.
"……Hehe, sorry I'm late."
Hotaru, arriving late with a dopey grin, bowed her head. That alone wouldn't be an issue, but her flushed face and thick clothes over her uniform—despite it being full spring. Her body swayed unsteadily; she was clearly still unwell.
Staggering, staggering.
She plopped into her seat and immediately face-planted onto her desk.
"……Uwaaaah."
A dying voice followed soon after.
Kenichi's jaw dropped. Hotaru's state was worse than he'd imagined.
Right on cue, Ichimaru Shiki from the back row poked his head forward.
"Oh? Hotaru. You don't look so good."
"……Yeah."
Hotaru mumbled from where she'd slumped like slime across her desk. Shiki went, "Oh dear," nodding with a smirk as he rummaged in his bag.
"Huhuhu, I've been feeling frail lately myself, so I've been taking some tonic."
"……You?"
"Yes. This perks me right up. Want to try some, Hotaru?"
"……."
No way it's making his libido perk up.
Kenichi thought idly before spotting the bottle Shiki pulled out and freaking out.
He'd thought slaying yokai had toughened his stomach and courage, but bubble—bubble—! The ominous boiling black liquid filled him with dread.
……Isn't drinking that a death sentence?
No matter how shady Shiki was, he wouldn't poison Hotaru—but at a glance, it looked less like medicine and more like lethal toxin. An assassin's tool.
With Shiki's sinister smile added, it screamed poison even more.
"Huhuhu, trust me, Hotaru?"
No, not even a little. If Shiki told him to drink that poison, Kenichi was ready to bolt from the classroom. Better to take a beating.
That stuff looked like it'd end in disaster no matter what.
But maybe her fever had fried her brain. Hotaru lifted her head slightly, blankly alternating between Shiki and the thermos contents before nodding.
"……Yeah, I'll have some."
"No! Hotaru!"
"Excellent choice!"
What horrific event was unfolding? Kenichi clamped his hands over his mouth as Hotaru, swaying, gripped the thermos Shiki handed her tight.
And then—gulp, gulp—she downed it. The mystery liquid.
"Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu."
Watching Hotaru swallow without a hint of suspicion, Ichimaru Shiki cackled with unprecedented villainy.
……It is poison, isn't it?
Just as that conviction hit, Hotaru—who'd been chugging from the firmly gripped thermos—suddenly stopped.
With creaky, unnatural movements, she set it down and tilted her head.
"……I'm better."
Kenichi's eyes widened. He scrutinized his childhood friend's face. Sure enough, the feverish red flush had vanished in an instant.
Jaw slack in shock, he side-eyed Ichimaru Shiki in the back.
"Huhuhuhuhuhu!"
He was still grinning like a villain.
After that, Hotaru was back to her energetic self, diligently listening to class and chatting away.
She'd looked ready to be carted off to the hospital before first period ended, but after the 'mystery tonic,' she stayed perky until the end of the day.
It's definitely a good thing, but……
Why did everything involving Shiki feel like it came with an ulterior motive? If that was a talent, it was a weird one.
Lost in thought, Kenichi felt his shoulder shaken vigorously by Ichinose Hotaru beside him.
"……W-What?"
"Kenichi, you didn't even know about exams tomorrow?! How do you miss that just because I looked away for a second? No more slacking—study until exams are over. Get ready."
"……I haven't been slacking, though."
This was so unfair. Kenichi swallowed tears inwardly, nodding slowly.
Having the straight-A Hotaru tutor him was great in theory, but actually starting felt off-putting. And after busting his ass exorcising yokai, to be treated like a slacker!
Hotaru leaned in as Kenichi dragged his feet for various reasons.
"So, why didn't Sawamura-san come today?"
"Mm, officially she's recuperating."
Sawamura Cento, who'd holed up in her room all weekend, hadn't come to school. She seemed better off than Hotaru had earlier, but word was her issue was more mental than physical.
"Something about a major life decision. So she's resting at home today."
"Huh. What about Ichimaru-kun? He said he had business and skipped study group."
Reinvigorated, Hotaru seemed a bit miffed that Shiki was sitting out her prized study session.
Kenichi, with his half-baked knowledge, gave a half-baked reply.
"Dunno. Something super important, apparently."
Or so he'd heard.
Nerima Ward, Tokyo—a grand banquet hall in a massive estate.
One of Japan's three great exorcist clans, symbol of the martial faction honing iron bodies. Founded by the ancestor called the War God, still carrying the lineage of strength.
The martial house Kenju.
The estate's banquet hall was packed with Tokyo's top exorcist clans and notables. The manager of the shrine on Mount Reizan of Eternal Flames was there, as was the head of Shihei—whose fame lately pierced the heavens. Even a envoy from distant Kyoto's 'Hashimoto' filled a seat.
Dubbed the Exorcist Summit.
Gathered to discuss the recent Hyakki Yagyo—and its aftermath.
An unprecedented mega-assault meant tons to sort out: each clan's casualties, city damage from unslain yokai.
And the informant.
"So that guy."
The muscular old man at the head seat. Kenju Kozaburo, current head and organizer, growled with a twisted face.
"When the hell is the White Night Fork showing up?"
As Kozaburo barked and glared, Shihei Rin—the head whose clan hosted the White Night Fork as a guest—curled her lips slightly.
"Right now."
Creak—
The banquet hall doors swung open.
Turning, there stood a white-haired man with a sinister look, just as expected.
The late arrival strode casually to the center and spoke.
"Were you looking for me?"
Ichimaru Shiki bowed politely like a gentleman, smirking all the while.
"Here I am."
What brazen handling.