I have an infinite number of shikigami-Chapter 54 - 49. First Encounter

The Kanto Headquarters of the Onmyo-ryo is located in Shinjuku.

A whole 26-story building, the ceiling of the lobby is high, spacious, and bright, reminiscent of a grand and elegant Greek temple.

At the service desk to the right of the entrance, three girls smile with impeccable precision, like in a toothbrush commercial, their smiles as neat and clean as their snow-white shirts.

Fujiwara Reya approached the desk and asked the attendant he found the most agreeable, "Hello, could you tell me where the department for shrine renovation approvals is?"

She was a woman in her early twenties, with beautifully curled hair.

A small name tag pinned to her white shirt read, "Ogata Kumiko."

"The Department of Land Management is on the sixteenth floor." Kumiko looked at him and smiled, a happy smile, "Director Takeuchi is currently with a guest, but I can help schedule an appointment for you if you need to see him."

"Alright, thank you," Fujiwara Reya responded with a polite smile.

He had a great physique and carried himself with elegance and charm. Kumiko was momentarily taken aback by his sudden smile, tilting her head slightly and making a cute expression, "Then, please state your identity and purpose, so I can register you."

"Fujiwara Reya."

"Mr. Fujiwara, are you a priest?"

"Yes, from Asakusa Shrine."

Hearing this, the smile on Kumiko’s face stalled, and her gaze grew slightly unsettled.

It was as if a pebble had been tossed onto a calm lake, causing ripples to momentarily spread across her face, fleetingly. Once calm was restored, she resumed her business-like smile, though her smile seemed slightly less endearing.

Fujiwara Reya observed these subtle and complex changes, finding them quite amusing.

Within Shintoism, Asakusa Shrine was something of an outlier—not an enemy, but certainly not an in-group. Such complexities could be discerned from the changes in the attendant’s expression.

"Well... how should I put this?" Kumiko, calming down, lightly tapped her glasses with her index finger, "I’m not really in a position to make decisions regarding Asakusa Shrine..."

She stopped there.

Fujiwara Reya waited for her to continue, but no continuation came.

"I’m sorry," Kumiko said, "I need to confer with someone."

"Uh, please do it quickly," Fujiwara Reya nodded. "I just need to know who to find, so it won’t trouble you too much."

"Alright, thank you for your understanding, Mr. Fujiwara. I’ll step away for a moment, and you can wait for me in the rest area." With that, Kumiko left the counter and walked towards the elevator. The other two reception girls glanced at Fujiwara Reya a few times, maintaining their business-like smiles.

Fujiwara Reya looked around the lobby.

Brilliant morning light streamed in through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting off the marble floors in a dazzling way, creating a comfortable atmosphere.

The walls were adorned with playful, healthy abstract paintings. Several obviously expensive, large sofas were neatly arranged, with pleasing green potted plants placed beside them.

There were quite a few people, but the atmosphere was fairly pleasant.

Fujiwara Reya went to the rest area, sitting on a sofa so soft it seemed to envelop him, and took out a Spanish dictionary.

He glanced through it partially understanding, recognizing most of the words, but the grammatical differences between Spanish and Portuguese required careful attention.

At the service desk, the two attendants occasionally glanced his way, offering encouraging smiles.

After some time, the sound of high heels clicking on the floor and greetings reached his ears. Fujiwara Reya looked up to find a long-haired woman in a tidy uniform approaching.

A small Gucci bag was draped over her shoulder, and her nails were perfectly painted with light pink polish.

A charming oval face with a friendly smile.

Endowed with a generous bust and long legs.

※※※※※

The lobby was bustling.

There was fresh air, time pushing forward, and men and women rushing ahead; men mostly in white shirts with ties and briefcases, women mostly in black stockings and high heels.

At one moment, a woman in business attire stepped in through the revolving door, and the entire lobby seemed to quiet down.

She seemed to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, with a slightly plump, gentle face and features so perfect one couldn’t find a flaw. Her makeup was just right, with pretty brows drawn by the eyebrow pencil, mysterious eye shadow, and lipstick in the latest trendy color.

In contrast to her exquisite makeup, her attire was much simpler.

On top was a simple white shirt with slender shoulders, below a similarly simple black tight skirt and black over-the-knee stockings, with no accessories. Carrying a white patent leather bag and wearing black pointed high heels, the heels as dainty as pencil leads.

With the foot traffic, it was hard not to notice her.

With a white, flawless, round face, endearing, her long hair tied neatly at the back, revealing her smooth, full forehead, she appeared smart and lively; her clean, minimal attire exuded radiance and cast a quintessential image of a competent career woman.

Kawashima Miki, at the center of everyone’s attention, was as calm as the eye of a storm.

Her focus was on the young man reading by the window.

The bright spring sunshine poured in through the floor-to-ceiling window, making everything around glisten, and the boy in the light was enveloped in a faint, gentle glow, with fine hair on his cheeks gleaming.

He seemed to be reading yet pondering something, occasionally flipping the pages absent-mindedly.

His school uniform shirt, out of sync with everyone’s attire around, rose and fell slowly with his breath, like a small unattended boat floating on the morning sea.

After a brief thought, Kawashima Miki walked towards him.

"Hello."

She greeted him, sat beside Fujiwara Reya, crossed her legs, and extended her hand.

"Uh," Fujiwara Reya hesitated for a moment, smiling minimally, "Can I ask who you are?"

"Master Fujiwara, I know you." Kawashima Miki showed a smile full of amiability, maintaining the hand-holding gesture, "Before we start today’s conversation, allow me to express my admiration for you. You look much better in person than in photos."

"You’re too kind." Fujiwara Reya shook her hand lightly.

Her small and soft hand felt very warm.

The hand’s grip was steady, seemingly containing some sentiment of hers, not just a casual social handshake.

Fujiwara Reya savored the feel of her hand, thinking it was quite nice.

It wasn’t a lustful notion, but rather her gentle oval face, his favorite face shape.

"It’s not flattery," Kawashima Miki kept observing his hand while complimenting, "Your real aura surpasses the photos on the Onmyo-ryo website, reminiscent of watching old Toho films, conveying an old-fashioned natural warmth."

With a little observation, conclusions could be drawn.

These hands had no calluses, clearly not involved in training for a long time.

"Uh, this," Fujiwara Reya looked at her gripping his hand without letting go, politely asking, "Could you let go?"

"You haven’t practiced Shinto spells recently, have you?" Kawashima Miki inquired.

"Hmm?" Fujiwara Reya looked puzzled at her.

"One can tell by the hands." Kawashima Miki said with a smile, "These hands, unlike a priest exorcising every day, rather resemble those of an artist or musician. They are hands filled with artistic sense instead of murderous intent."

"Why do you say that?" Fujiwara Reya asked curiously.

"Well, you seem to give off a great impression to me." Kawashima Miki lightly patted the back of his hand with her other hand, smiling like a young girl, "You look like someone born in a wealthy and culturally rich family, and you’ve been raised with healthy and thoughtful care. Am I right?"

"That’s quite the guess." Fujiwara Reya responded.

Neither agreeing nor disagreeing, merely leaving her room for imagination.

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