Natsume caught him beneath the arm before his head struck the linoleum and lowered him carefully onto the floor.

His breathing came shallow and uneven.

The black was already fading from his eyes.

Above them the ghost writhed in the air, dense dark mass folding against itself with unstable shifting edges.

Edges shifting constantly, unable to fully hold shape after being torn from its anchor.

Then it surged downward toward the unconscious man.

Toward the body.

Hiro stepped between them.

Both hands rose.

Golden cleansing seals spread instantly from fingertip to fingertip in overlapping circles of burning light.

The ghost slammed into them.

The corridor exploded white.

Dark energy tore apart piece by piece beneath the cleansing light.

Black fragments burned away into pale drifting sparks until the screaming stopped abruptly and the pressure vanished from the corridor entirely.

Silence settled over the floor.

The curtains stopped moving.

The remaining ceiling lights flickered weakly overhead.

Water dripped somewhere farther down the hall.

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

Hiro lowered his arms slowly and looked down at the unconscious patient on the floor.

Hospital gown twisted around his body.

Breathing steadily now.

Just human again.

"Clean?" Natsume asked.

"Clean."

Hiro glanced toward the burn across his shoulder where the dark energy had broken through the armor.

"Caught one."

"I saw. You got cocky again."

"My bad."

Natsume was already studying the corridor around them. Broken ceiling panels. Torn curtain rails. Plaster scattered beneath flickering lights.

"This will be difficult to explain as a pipe burst."

Hiro looked around once.

"That’s Fujino’s problem."

"Yes," Natsume said calmly. "It is."

.

Fujino was waiting in the lobby with four staff members and a security guard whose eyes looked hollow from lack of sleep.

The moment the elevator doors opened and Hiro stepped out carrying the unconscious man over one shoulder, somebody near reception let out a short broken sound.

The staff surged forward immediately.

Hiro handed the man over and stepped back while two nurses caught him carefully beneath the arms.

The patient’s head rolled weakly against one nurse’s shoulder.

Alive.

Breathing.

Human again.

Relief moved visibly through the lobby.

Somebody sat down hard in one of the chairs near reception. Another nurse pressed both hands over her mouth and looked away sharply.

Fujino approached them quickly.

"He’ll need rest," Natsume said before he could speak. "The body took strain during possession. Keep him hydrated. Limit stimulation for the next few days."

Fujino nodded rapidly.

"Yes. Of course."

"He won’t remember what happened."

That seemed to hit him hardest.

His shoulders loosened all at once and a long shaky breath escaped through his nose before he caught control of himself again.

"Is it gone?" he asked quietly. "Completely?"

"Yes," Natsume said.

Silence settled briefly across the lobby.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

Somewhere down the hall a phone started ringing at the reception desk.

Fujino turned toward the security guard beside him and gave a small nod.

The guard stepped forward carrying a black hard-sided case with deep scratches along the corners and set it carefully on the reception counter.

Fujino pushed it toward them without opening it.

Hiro picked it up one-handed.

Heavy.

Payment.

"If anything else happens—" Fujino started.

"You have the line," Natsume said.

Fujino bowed immediately.

Lower than before.

This time gratitude instead of fear.

The hospital doors slid open for them automatically and cold afternoon air moved across the lobby as they stepped outside.

The car was waiting where they had left it.

Hiro tossed the case into the back seat and dropped into the car after it. Natsume entered beside him a moment later and the doors shut softly behind them.

For a few seconds neither of them spoke.

The city lights moved across the windows while the car pulled away from the hospital entrance and merged into traffic.

Hiro leaned his head back against the seat.

"That extraction took too long."

"You pushed the ghost the wrong way."

"I was softening it." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"You were helping it stabilize."

A short silence.

Streetlights passed across the interior of the car in pale moving bands.

"Next time tell me earlier," Hiro said.

"I did."

Hiro looked out the window.

Cars moved through the intersection ahead in slow streams of white and red light.

After a while he spoke again.

"Strong ghost."

"Yes," Natsume said quietly. "Only a few hours inside the body and it was already that saturated."

Her gloved fingers adjusted slightly against her wrist.

Then she looked toward the passing city outside the window.

"Someone died badly in that hospital."

"I hate hospitals."

.

.

The silence went too long.

Kaito knew it immediately. He could feel it pressing heavier against his chest with every second that passed.

He looked at her.

Mei stood in front of him with both hands gripping her bag strap tightly enough that her knuckles had gone pale.

Her face was completely red.

When she got overwhelmed she always started looking everywhere except directly at him for more than a second at a time.

The floor. The signboard above the platform. His shoulder. The tracks. Then back to his shoulder again.

Cute.

That was the first clear thought that entered his head.

She was cute. Very cute.

He had noticed it in pieces before. The neat braids.

The glasses that always had fingerprints near one corner no matter how often she cleaned them.

The way she laughed at something honestly funny and then immediately covered her mouth afterward like she had revealed too much.

Soft skin. Quiet voice. Studious.

Probably fun once she relaxed properly around someone.

And suddenly he could picture it too clearly.

Waiting together after class. Eating somewhere quiet near campus.

Texting late at night about assignments neither of them wanted to finish.

Walking through winter streets together while she disappeared into her scarf and complained quietly about the cold.

Normal things.

The kind of life he had come to the city for.

Not the estate.

Not tutors and spiritual evaluations and relatives measuring his worth in silence across dinner tables.

Not cousins cornering him for entertainment when the adults weren’t looking.

Not a sister who looked at him with open dislike and never bothered hiding it.

He had come here specifically for this.

And now it was standing right in front of him asking.

So why was he hesitating?