Chapter 44: The Cat Can Talk
At the same time.
In the backyard of the shrine.
Chiba Ruri's expression was solemn, her breath steady as she stood like a wall before the entrance of the inner residence. The air around her shimmered faintly with spiritual energy, each breath carrying tension that could snap at any moment.
Opposite her stood a middle-aged man and woman, clearly partners both in power and ambition. Their eyes gleamed with calculation, a quiet confidence that came from years of experience.
Between the two sides, four shikigami were locked in fierce combat. Energy clashed, echoing with booming sounds that made the gravel beneath their feet tremble. Flames, wind, and shadow merged and tore through the air, scattering bursts of spiritual light like fireflies in a storm.
Although an onmyouji could command several shikigami at once, it was mentally exhausting, draining their focus and stamina rapidly. The two opponents, however, controlled their spirits effortlessly, fighting two-on-one with poise. They were clearly holding the upper hand.
"Give up and hand over your shikigami." The man's face was plain, but his eyes were sharp and cold, cutting through the dark like blades.
"That's right," the alluring woman said, lips curling into a smirk. "There's no point resisting anymore. Be a good girl and surrender before you get hurt. It's better for everyone that way."
"Dream on." Ruri's tone was ice-cold, her hands tightening as a faint red glow pulsed between her fingers.
"Fine, then. You've chosen the hard way." The man snorted, his voice low and controlled. With a flick of his wrist, he commanded his shikigami to surge forward, their forms blazing with renewed power, the air quivering under their pressure.
The woman beside him was about to mock her further when her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Hm? Someone just entered the barrier."
A rapid flapping sound echoed through the night sky, cutting through the chaos.
A bat the size of a clenched fist descended from above. It was grotesque and strange—one-eyed, the eye centered right on its forehead, swollen and bloodshot like a human's. Its eerie gaze flickered as it flapped its leathery wings. It was clearly a reconnaissance-type shikigami.
The woman extended her hand, and the bat landed gently on her palm. Its single eye rolled once, gleaming faintly red.
"It's that catgirl who escaped earlier," the woman said after a pause. "She's back… and she brought a young man with her." Her gaze sharpened as she peered into the bat's memories.
"How amusing." The man's voice was cool, almost bored. "Did she run off to fetch help? Deal with them."
"Gladly." The woman's smirk deepened. "Some matters aren't for children to meddle in. Looks like I'll have to teach him a lesson he won't forget."
Her shadow quivered like liquid. Then, as if rising from an abyss, a faint silhouette emerged—misty and graceful, moving like drifting smoke under the moonlight.
"Seikyū, handle it."
"Yes." A calm, detached voice replied. The shadow rippled once and dispersed into nothingness.
"Wait." The man lifted a hand, his tone warning. "Seikyū's power lies in bewitching minds, not in raw strength. We don't know who this young man is yet. Don't underestimate him—or the catgirl's mysterious backer. One mistake could cost us."
He flicked his sleeve, and a jade pendant dropped into his palm, glowing faintly. Within it churned a black mist, swirling like a trapped spirit. When it touched air, it twisted into a grotesque human face that screamed silently, then melted away.
The man quickly formed a seal with both hands, chanting an incantation under his breath. The pendant cracked. Black smoke gushed forth like a released storm, twisting and writhing until it condensed into a tall, muscular demon with blue skin, tusks, and a cruel grin. His presence alone made the air heavy, choking, and filled with madness.
"Oniyasha…" the woman murmured, eyebrows raising. "You really brought that out? Overkill much?"
"Better safe than sorry," he said flatly.
Neither of them noticed the fleeting spark in the shrine maiden's eyes when that name was spoken.
…
The entire shrine had been enveloped in a powerful barrier. To ordinary people, stepping through the torii gate would reveal only an endless fog, like walking into a dream. Vision would blur; sound would twist. They would lose all sense of direction and wander in circles forever.
But Kouya was no ordinary man.
With a single glance, he saw through the illusion. The silver moon hung high, casting down a tranquil glow. The white gravel patterns below shimmered faintly, reflecting the light like a sea of silver dust. Between the pines and bamboo groves, a small stream murmured softly, its surface rippling as cherry blossoms drifted across it. The entire place was beautiful—peaceful, elegant, and deadly.
Yet now was no time to linger.
He and the catgirl hurried down the narrow path toward the backyard when, suddenly, a song floated from the darkness—a low, sorrowful tune, heavy with grief and echoing eerily through the mist. It was as if the night itself were weeping.
A moment later, a woman in a long crimson robe emerged from the shadows. Her hair was impossibly long, cascading to her ankles, completely covering her face.
A cold wind swept through the trees. The petals of the sakura drifted down in a soft, silent rain.
Then, the wind shifted—and the hair parted.
She had no face. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. Only smooth, pale skin stretched across where her features should have been.
An ordinary person would have screamed. Their knees would've buckled, their sanity shattered. But Kouya and the catgirl were different.
The faceless woman glided closer, her movement almost liquid. Her voice came slow and hollow, echoing like a whisper from the grave.
"Young man… would you like a bowl of ghost-wife soup?"
"Meow~" Rina growled softly beside him, her little fangs flashing as her tail puffed up.
In the cold moonlight, the eerie figure stood there—long hair swaying gently, faceless and haunting, holding a steaming bowl of something that smelled faintly of herbs and iron. Any human would've fled in terror.
But Kouya didn't even blink.
Instead, his eyes lit up with curiosity. "Ghost-wife soup, huh? Never had that before. I wonder what it tastes like."
He folded his arms, considering it seriously, then smiled faintly. "Alright then. I'll take one bowl."
The faceless woman froze.
"..."
The silence grew heavier.
'What kind of reaction is that?! Anyone else would be screaming right now, not… eager!'
Kouya tilted his head. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you were bluffing."
Her hair rippled violently, like tendrils of smoke reacting to her irritation. After a long, tense pause, she gave a cold humph—and produced a real bowl of soup, steam rising faintly.
Kouya accepted it and peered into the bowl. "Hmm… longan and goji berries? Smells like a vitality tonic. Are you trying to heal me or poison me?"
"..."
The silence was suffocating. Even the insects seemed to stop chirping.
Then, a tiny giggle broke the stillness.
The catgirl clasped her hands over her mouth, shoulders trembling as she tried not to laugh out loud.
Kouya sighed, exasperated but faintly amused. "Language barriers are a pain." He flicked his fingers, dropping something invisible into the soup, stirring it until the color shifted slightly. Then he extended the bowl toward her.
"Drink it."
"Meow?" Rina froze, her tail straightening in shock, her golden eyes wide.
"Drink." His tone left no room for argument—cold, commanding, absolute.
For a long moment, she just stared at him, trembling slightly. Then, with a faint sniffle, she released his sleeve. Tears shimmered at the corner of her eyes as she took the bowl in both hands, lifting it slowly to her lips.
She drank.
The scent of herbs mixed with something faintly metallic filled the air. Her throat moved delicately as she swallowed, the sound strangely quiet against the vast silence.
When she finished, Kouya tilted his head. "How does it taste?"
"It's… sweet, meow~" she said softly, without thinking. Her voice was tender, high-pitched, sweet as honey.
Then she froze. Her eyes went round as saucers, her ears twitching wildly. She slapped her hands over her mouth, disbelief written across her face.
"Did… did I just talk, meow?"
"The cat can talk?!"