Tokyo Ravens - Volume 1 - Chapter 1.2

Part 2 

Miasma had already overflowed into the surroundings when the personnel carrier arrived. 
Most of the people in the shopping district had gone to shelters, leaving behind an empty street. Onmyouji wearing clothing that protected them from miasma came out from the carriage that had pulled an emergency stop. 
The source of the spiritual disaster was an ancient tree growing in the middle of the shopping district. The big tree gave off an abnormal spiritual pressure, twisting its trunk as if it were an animal. 
Aura - something that filled every creature. 
That aura would often oscillate and waver, maintaining a stable state throughout the whole body. 
But, occasionally the oscillation would go out of control, and the clearly imbalanced aura would become miasma, further skewing the imbalance. 
An accident where the aura was unable to recover, where it far exceeded the acceptable range for self-purification - those were the spiritual disasters recognized by those versed in Onmyoudou. And driving out the spirit - 'Exorcism' - was the duty of the Onmyouji, members of the Onmyou Agency. 
Like a group of ravens dancing in the Tokyo night, they encircled the ancient tree, drawing out small daggers from their pockets one by one. 
They chanted the incantation, thrusting their daggers down towards the asphalt road. The daggers filled with magical energy pierced the road, sticking into it. White light flashed off of the blades, spreading along the ground, encircling the ancient tree, forming a nimbus of light, cutting off the source of the spiritual disaster from the outside world, and creating a barrier. 
The ancient tree didn't stop moving from this. It continued spewing out miasmas as if spraying out spores, and the branches struggled to resist the force, as if it wanted to break the barrier. 
The spiritual disaster had already reached the second phase, and the situation didn't allow for the Onmyouji to take it lightly. If this went on, it would soon enter phase three, and the miasma would take form, birthing 'demons'. 
Just then... 
"Sorry, I've made you all wait!" 
A motorcycle approached from behind the Onmyouji who were maintaining the barrier. 
A sharp-eyed man sprinted swiftly from the motorcycle. 
He wasn't wearing the miasma-protection clothing of the Onmyouji, but instead wore a colorful shirt and a pair of jeans with holes in the knees, looking completely unlike an Onmyouji. 
But, he was the commander leading this group, the top of the country's Onmyouji - one of the National First-Class Onmyouji. 
"I've finally caught up. I'll get rid of this demon in one strike, you guys stay sharp and maintain the barrier!" 
The man wore a katana on his waist. He dismounted from the motorcycle, rushing forward and drawing the katana. 
He slashed the blade through the air, drawing a complex pattern. He manipulated aura, converting it to magical force, and the blade shone with a blinding light as if it were engulfed in flame. 
The commander of the ravens chanted: 
"By the five elements, keen spirit of metal, cut down the spirit of wood! Metal overcomes wood! Disperse, demonic miasma!" 
The raised sword cleaved towards the ancient tree-- 

"Wow, awesome!" 
Tsuchimikado Harutora slurped noodles with disposable chopsticks, staring intently at the television screen. 
He was sitting in a small udon shop with an atmosphere reminiscent of the old Showa era. The windows of the shop were open wide, and the old electric fan circulated the cool air, blowing away the summer heat. 
The television screen was currently live-broadcasting the Onmyouji eliminating the spiritual disaster. Since almost all spiritual disasters happened inside Tokyo, it was an almost foreign scene to Harutora who lived in this kind of countryside place. 
Harutora pointed his chopsticks at the television in the shop. 
"Look, Touji. That tree's at least two meters in diameter, but it was cut down instantly, almost like a manga." 
He was full of excitement as he spoke to Ato Touji who sat across from him. 
Touji had finished eating long ago, slumped lazily in his seat. He listened to Harutora's words, turning his head to look at the television behind him. The fierce pair of eyes cast a bored gaze from under the bandanna around his forehead. 
"......After all, elites like Onmyouji aren't too different from manga in the first place." 
"Elites?" 
"The ones who qualify through the 'First-Class Onmyou Exam', also known as the National First-Class Onmyouji...... Wasn't there a special report in that magazine I let you read earlier?" 
"Huh? So that katana guy is one of the 'Twelve Divine Generals'? Amazing!" 
Harutora moved his gaze to the television again. The live-streamed broadcast had switched to a reporter making a statement on the scene, and Harutora still stared happily at the television, only remembering that he was still eating after a while, and then continuing to eat his noodles. 
Generally speaking, being an Onmyouji was quite a peculiar profession. 
But once one became a National First-Class Onmyouji, it was a completely different position. 
The so-called 'Twelve Divine Generals' was just a title bestowed upon them by the media, since there were only a dozen National First-Class Onmyouji who had passed the First-Class Onmyou Exam. It could be said that these were even more extraordinary elite Onmyouji. 
"These kinds of broadcasts are becoming more common recently." Harutora slurped udon as he spoke. 
"Seems like spiritual disasters are on an increasing trend...... But, that's all Tokyo's business." Touji looked out the window. 
"This place is very peaceful." 
Harutora set down his chopsticks in the middle of eating his udon, looking at Touji. 
"What is it, are you thinking of your family after being away for a long time?" 
"That's not it, I don't hate the peace." 
"Haha, don't lie. When you were in Tokyo you were a violent juvenile delinquent." 
"Shut up, go eat your noodles." 
Touji narrowed his eyes and creased his brow, and Harutora laughed while reaching his hand towards the small bottle of hot sauce. 

Once they walked out of the store, Harutora couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the dazzling sunlight and the vast expanse of whiteness in front of them. 
The August sun was high in the sky, strong heat reflected off the asphalt road, and cicadas chirped in bursts like the crashing of waves. 
On the other side of the street was a park full of greenery. Raising his gaze, the blue sky was before him, big white clouds stretching across the sky. 
It was summer. 
Harutora and Touji walked out of the noodle shop and stood in front of the store for a while. 
"......It's so hot." 
"Summer, you know." 
Their ears could almost hear the sound of their skin being fried as they stood underneath the hot sunlight. When they crossed the road and moved underneath the shade of the trees, they resumed their aimless stroll again. 
It was currently summer vacation, and today they had been receiving summer remedial classes for the entire morning, and not until just now on the road home had they dealt with their late lunch. 
The two of them wore the uniform of white short-sleeved shirts and gray pants for the remedial class just now, but Touji had a bandanna wrapped around his forehead, keeping back his long hair. 
Maybe the atmospheres that the two gave off were different, as even if they were both wearing uniforms, Touji appeared much more handsome. The two of them were like a tiger sticking his tongue out from the heat and a wolf that calmly looked for prey. Touji had grown to be quite handsome in the first place, and of course that could be one of the reasons creating the disparity between the two. 
"My mouth is still really spicy." 
"You put in too much hot sauce." 
"I didn't do it on purpose, it's cause the lid of the bottle fell off." 

"Your luck is still as bad as ever." 
Touji snickered. 
Actually, Harutora's luck was strangely poor, and the lid of the bottle falling off when he was pouring hot sauce even counted as a small matter. For example, he had been in car accidents twelve times. It was really hard to judge whether being run over by cars twelve times but still being alive meant his luck was good or bad. 
"This is definitely a curse inherited by my ancestors." 
"Well, with your lineage, the probability's pretty high." 
As usual, Harutora's complaints didn't stop, and Touji who walked beside him replied sarcastically. 
The sunlight passed through the leaves and shone on the asphalt road, as if luminescence had been scattered everywhere. Clearly outlined dark shadows contrasted with the patchy light, and looking at that scene made the heat seem like it had lowered somewhat. 
"Alright...... What should we do next?" 
Harutora was still muttering. His phone promptly sounded as if it had taken that opportunity, 
"Oh." Harutora fished his phone out of his pocket. 
He flipped open the folding phone, and after seeing the name displayed on the screen, immediately closed his eyes halfway, closing the phone without saying a word. Then, he put the phone back into his pocket as if nothing had happened. 
"......Hokuto?" Touji slanted his gaze towards him, confirming. 
"......It was Hokuto." 
Harutora didn't explain further, nor did Touji pursue the question. 
The two of them listened to the cicadas while strolling leisurely. 
"What will we do later? I don't have any money on me, but should we still just go to the arcade to hang out?" Harutora proposed this, his spirits restored. 
"......No, unfortunately, you're wasting your effort." 
"What? What do you mean?" 
"You've already been caught, as expected of your bad luck." 
Touji pointed slightly behind Harutora's back. 
"You Bakatora!" 
A voice that seemed to exemplify vitality sounded with a light, brisk tone. 
Then, Harutora heard the sound of footsteps stamping on the asphalt road - and soon after, something warm and soft jumped onto his back. 
"I found you! Why didn't you pick up your phone? Hurry up and say it! Bakatora!" 
"D, Don't be like that, Hokuto! I can't breathe--! I'm gonna die--!" 
Two hands reached out from behind Harutora's back, grabbing his neck. Short, light-colored hair floated lightly in the summer breeze. 
Harutora's neck was being throttled vigorously, and he desperately tried to loosen Hokuto's arms. But Hokuto didn't give up the opportunity to deliver the finishing blow, and she raised her arms, grinding them on Harutora's head. 
"Bakatora! Bakatora!" 
"Hey, stop it. Don't lean on me, it's too hot, you tomboy!" 
"What did you say! Harutora's the one who smells like sweat." 
"Don't smell me!" 
"Ah, there's the smell of soup, did you eat udon again?" 
"Didn't I tell you not to smell other peoples’ bodies! Are you a dog!" 
Red-faced, Harutora took a big step back. Hokuto finally released him, showing a bright smile, and saying with a youthful tone: 
"The weather's so hot, I never expected you to be able to eat udon, your brain really must have gotten fried." 
"Be a little less nosy! Also, don't you look down on udon, udon is Japan's profound-" 
"Touji, what did you eat?" 
"Soba." 
"Are you forgetting about me? Or just deliberately ignoring me?" 
Harutora roared with intensity, but Hokuto who had him in the palm of her hand seemed at leisure. 
He and Hokuto had been like this since junior high up through today. Her eyes were wide, her lips would naturally curve upwards, and her manner of speech was like a boy's, but she had a well-formed, cute face, which seemed extremely unexpected. She wore a tight-fitting polo shirt and a miniskirt, with her hands and feet tanned slightly brown by the sun. 
She swung her pretty toned legs back and forth, moving back and forth between the frustrated-looking Harutora and Touji who didn't bother with her. 
"You guys went to remedials today, too? As expected of the King of Failing and the Skipping School Master." 
"You're noisy, what did you come here to do, anyway?" 
"Hmm? Nothing, I just came here for a walk." 
"A walk on this kind of super hot day? Are you the one whose brain got fried?" 
"At least it's much more meaningful than remedial classes. Did you know, Harutora? In this world, only clever people prosper." 
"Uh, this guy's power of persuasion is truly annoying......" 
"I'm not a guy, I'm a girl, Bakatora." 
"Shut up, you tomboy." 
Frustrated, Harutora stared at the dramatizing Hokuto. 
Incidentally, 'Bakatora' was Hokuto's original creation, who had described Harutora as 'An old tiger, passing a spring day by sleeping lazily while showing its belly' to belittle him. As the analogy was very apt, she hadn't been able to resist praising her own creativity when she had thought of this nickname, but Harutora just felt furious at its origins. 
Touji sighed wordlessly as he watched the two of them bickering as usual. 
"Speaking of which, you still have that uncanny intuition like always. Did you also see the broadcast just now?" 
"Yeah, and Touji too, you're looking sharp as usual." 
"So then, I should go over it again......" [1] 
How unbearable. Touji turned to the side, shifting his gaze away. Harutora just looked displeased as if he were a tiger whose head had been shaved. 
Hokuto didn't concern herself with the reactions of the two. 
"In short! Regardless of why I called out to you guys, Harutora has to pay for ignoring my phone call first. Hurry up, come on!" 
After Hokuto straightened her back and delivered this announcement, she grabbed Harutora's hand, pulling him into a run. 
Her arm was slim like a girl's, but her strength was surprisingly great. "Hey, what are you doing!" As Hokuto towed Harutora away, he was forced to follow along. 
Touji raised an eyebrow, looking quite helpless. 
Then, he stuck both hands in his pants pockets, slowly following in the pair's footsteps.