Tokyo Exorcism Diary

Thunder roared.

The sky split apart, and flashes of lightning illuminated ‘Hoshino Gen’s’ face, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

In the distance, the school building had already been engulfed by raging crimson flames. The torrential downpour did nothing to subdue the fire as it surged toward the heavens.

Faintly, the wail of fire truck sirens echoed from afar.

‘Hoshino Gen’ turned toward Shimizu Yuu and offered a cryptic smile. Then, his left eye—like a glimmering red crystal—began to fade.

Moments later, sapphire blue returned, but almost instantly, his eyelids grew heavy, and his body collapsed into the rain-drenched ground.

Shimizu Yuu swallowed hard. Only then did she realize that the suffocating chill paralyzing her moments ago was finally receding.

She barely had time to catch her breath before she rushed toward the fallen Hoshino Gen.

“Hey! Are you okay?! Wake up! Hey!”

But Hoshino Gen would never hear her desperate calls.

At this moment, his consciousness was adrift in a vast, endless expanse of white.

In this world, there was only him—

And her.

Or rather, a female vengeful spirit.

A long crimson ribbon wrapped around part of her ethereal form, leaving expanses of pale, porcelain-like skin exposed. She was breathtakingly cold, her complexion gleaming like fresh snow. Dark tresses swirled behind her, and her lips, painted a striking red, curled into an unreadable smile.

Her eyes were like blood-red crystals.

Barefoot, her delicate toes adorned with vermillion polish, she hovered weightlessly in the air.

Hoshino Gen gazed at her, his expression complex.

He had long known the truth of what lurked within his left eye. The moment he died in his past life, he understood—this ghost, a terror unlike any he had encountered before, had latched onto him.

Not in the physical sense.

But something far more terrifying—she had woven herself into his very soul.

Even through death, through reincarnation, she never let go.

Hoshino Gen didn’t know why she clung to him so obsessively, nor did he understand what she truly wanted. So now, face to face with her once more, he simply met her gaze in silence.

The ghost suddenly laughed.

Her voice was crisp and melodious, like wind chimes swaying in a summer breeze.

Before Hoshino Gen could react, she materialized behind him, her presence unnoticed until slender, flawless arms snaked around his neck.

Her touch was icy.

Her breath, brushing against his ear, sent a chilling whisper through his senses.

“You can’t escape.”

As soon as the words fell, her form dissolved into shimmering light.

And in the empty, boundless whiteness, something new emerged—

A red pavilion, ancient and elegant, its architecture steeped in an eerie charm.

Above its entrance, three characters were etched:

Bai Tong’s Tomb.

“Bai Tong.”

Hoshino Gen murmured the name under his breath.

And then—

Darkness surged toward him like an abyssal tide.

He lost consciousness completely.

…

The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor stirred him awake.

Hoshino Gen opened his eyes to a dimly lit white ceiling.

His mind cleared.

He realized he was lying on an unbelievably soft bed, surrounded by an unmistakably high-end hospital room. The gloom wasn’t due to poor lighting but the overcast sky beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain pattered gently against the glass, draping the world outside in a muted haze.

His body still felt weak, but aside from that, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

He sat up, tearing the electrode patches from his chest. The heart monitor let out a sharp, jarring beep—

The sound startled a figure slumped over the side of the bed.

With a jolt, the person shot upright, eyes darting around in alarm. At first, she stared blankly at the now-flatlined heart monitor, frozen in confusion.

Then, she turned her gaze toward Hoshino Gen, her face filling with disbelief.

Seeing him sitting there as if nothing had happened, she let out a long, relieved sigh.

“Senpai! You scared me to death!” Kiryu Rakuye huffed, half scolding, half exasperated. Pushing herself up from the bed’s edge, she walked over to switch off the heart monitor.

Hoshino Gen paid little attention to her complaints and instead asked, “How long was I asleep?”

Kiryu Rakuye plopped back down onto the plush carpet beside the bed and checked her phone.

“It’s… 3:40 PM. So, about twenty hours, give or take.”

After a brief pause, she added, “People have been calling and texting you non-stop since last night. Your phone’s charging in the next room—want me to grab it for you?”

“If you don’t mind. Thanks.” Hoshino Gen’s response was polite and measured.

Kiryu Rakuye beamed. “Senpai, you don’t have to be so formal with me!” With that, she cheerfully dashed out the door.

She wasn’t gone for long. Soon, she returned with his phone.

The moment it touched his palm, it vibrated faintly.

Hoshino Gen traced his fingers along the edges of the screen, feeling the subtle tremor fade before unlocking the device with his fingerprint.

Missed calls and unread messages flooded the screen.

Yet they were all from the same few people.

The phone calls, in particular, were concentrated around eleven o’clock last night.

His little sister. His hopelessly dense assistant.

And an unknown number—most likely that brat, Liz.

He could already piece together what had happened:

He hadn’t returned home. Liz got worried and called his sister, Hoshino Rin, who in turn called him.

And as for that idiot Shimizu Yuu—she stuck to texts.

Her messages were relentless.

“Are you awake?”
“Hello?”
“Still not up?”
“Call me when you wake up.”
“Never mind, just text me back.”
“A single period would do.”

Hoshino Gen almost laughed.

But thinking about his situation, he found himself unable to.

At that moment, Kiryu Rakuye spoke up again.

“This place is the Special Affairs Unit’s private medical facility. It’s designed to treat and accommodate members of the unit, as well as individuals who collaborate with us. The medical team noticed that your brainwave activity was… unusual, and that there were signs of contamination spreading through your system. So, we decided not to inform your parents.”

She hesitated, then stuck out her tongue sheepishly.

“Buuut… since Rin-chan and Liz-chan kept calling, I, uh… may have called them myself.”

Hoshino Gen looked at her.

She hurriedly clarified, “But I didn’t answer your phone! I just saw their numbers on the caller ID and used my own phone to call them instead.”

Hoshino Gen didn’t respond.

Kiryu Rakuye exhaled in relief, then asked, “Oh, right! Senpai, do you feel unwell anywhere? Should I call the doctor for you?”