Why do you call him Master?
Iori looked up at him in confusion, his brown eyes clouded with uncertainty. The question Takeo had asked him made no sense.
"A spell to protect my soul?" Iori wondered, searching his memory to recall if the monks at the temple had ever performed any protective rituals for him. They knew about his gift and had always accepted it, even inviting him to attend some of their blessing ceremonies. Aside from the occasional daily mantras and the protection amulet, nothing came to mind.
"You don't know?" Takeo asked, surprised at the boy's questioning stare, before breaking into a chuckle. "A powerful protection spell requires a sacrifice. How could you not remember? Whoever cast it would have had to give up something of equal value."
Iori turned away from him, unable to stand the mocking smile of the man.
"Give up something of equal value?" The phrase echoed in his mind, striking a deep chord. If this was truly a soul protection spell, the sacrifice must have involved something tied to the caster's soul.
The only person who could have cast such a spell was the abbot. The thought made his chest tighten, feeding the nervous loop in his mind as he struggled to make sense of his fragmented memories. No one else was powerful enough—unless...
Suddenly, a stray memory flickered to life in Iori's mind, illuminating a long-buried truth. He remembered warm hands steadying him when he grew fidgety during the abbot's sermons, and gentle laughter that lulled him into naps under the soft afternoon sun. In those moments, he had been safe—protected from all spirits—as long as he was held in that person's arms.
But that person had vanished from his life without so much as a goodbye. Stronger than even the abbot, they alone would have had the power to cast a soul protection spell.
"Did he disappear because of this?" Iori murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper. Luckily, the madman across from him was too absorbed in petting his shadow creatures, humming a twisted melody, to hear him.
"Well!" Takeo clapped his hands sharply, snapping Iori out of his thoughts. "No matter. I still need a tenth soul to complete the sacrifice, so..." His lips curled into a sinister smile. "You'll have to do."
Iori's heart raced as Takeo's shadow creatures slithered closer, their dark forms pulsing with anticipation. He pressed himself further back into the pillar closest to him, cursing when he realized the sun had set. He needed to break out of the ropes to have any chance of getting out of there. He needed to quickly distract this psycho.
"But her aunt is dead!" Iori yelled, causing the deranged man to raise a hand, signalling his shadowy pets to stop. "Why do you still need to collect souls? The special unit is already on your tracks. I would run if I were you. Cut your losses."
Iori began to slowly shimmy his wrists, easing his hands against the rough ropes that bound him. The fibres scraped harshly against his skin, leaving raw burns where they dug into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, focusing on creating just enough slack to slip free. Each tiny movement sent jolts of pain through his wrists, but he knew he was close—just a little more, and he'd have the opening he needed to escape.
"Oh, no, little boy," the man tsked, a dark, eager gleam flickering in his eyes. "Imagine the possibilities if this ritual is completed. Master will be pleased, and once I become one of his knights, I'll be handsomely rewarded."
"Wasn't the ritual supposed to be about reviving Yukiko's cousin?" Iori countered, still hoping to distract the man. "Her aunt is gone, your customer is gone. This is a loss for you—no one will be able to take care of her cousin when she's revived. This also will end up as a trace that the police can track back to you."
Why am I suddenly making profit-and-loss decisions for a deranged necromancer? Iori groaned inwardly. I even missed my first lecture of the year for this!
"True," the older man hummed in agreement before his grin sharpened. "But who says I did it to fulfil her wishes anyway? Didn't I say the master told me to take this task on? He wanted me to experiment with resentment energy. See if the more resentment energy spirit holds, the more powerful it becomes. A perfect little tool to use. She just gave me a perfect spirit and vessel. Who knew her resentment would have built up this much?"
Takeo walked back to where Yukiko stood, his steps slow and deliberate. He gently cupped her face with a twisted smile, his fingers lingering on her skin as he rubbed it affectionately, the touch disturbingly tender.
"Despite her happy smile, this little lady seems to be carrying a lot of resentment," the older man said with a sly grin, casting a wink toward Iori. "But that's what they always say, right? It's the brightest smile that hides the deepest sorrow. The killings just helped made stronger."
"Now, I need to undo what you lot did to her, and everything will be back on track." His voice grew darker as he cackled, the sound echoing in the room. He raised his hands, gripping Yukiko's head firmly, and began chanting in a low, ominous tone.
Iori watched as Yukiko started to thrash and scream, scratching futilely at Takeo's arm.
"Let go of her!" Iori screamed, panic surging through him as he fought against his restraints. After a few desperate moments of struggling, he finally managed to free himself. Without hesitation, he lunged at the man, shoving him away from the screaming Yukiko. Takeo growled in shock as he was suddenly shoved onto the ground, glaring at the smaller male as he checked on the spirit. Iori grabbed Yukiko's hands, pulling her to her feet as he yanked her toward the crumbling stairs.
"We need to get out of here, now!" he urged, his voice frantic as they rushed toward the only possible escape, not caring about the man groaning on the floor.
"You little fucker!" Takeo growled, pointing a finger at Iori's disappearing figure. "After him!"
Shadows darted in the pointed direction, following Takeo's command, snarling as they chased after the boy.
Iori's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted down the decaying stairs, his fingers gripping Yukiko's cold hand with desperate intensity. Every step felt like a race against time, and he focused all his energy on keeping his footing. The broken, uneven stairs made it nearly impossible—his feet nearly caught in the crumbling gaps, sending jolts of panic through him as he fought to stay upright.
Reaching a couple of floors below, he realized the sun had fully set, and the entire building was covered in shadows. Without knowing which shadow was safe, he quickly brought them to an area where a distant street lamp illuminated their path. Once he confirmed there were no strange movements from the shadows, he pulled out his mobile to see if he could call the police.
"I am so stupid," Iori grumbled as he tried to get a signal. "Why didn't I get Yushi's number? The guy was poking fun at me the entire day. If he wanted to be annoying he could have given me his number. "
"Iori," a whispered voice brought him out of his self-deprecating musing.
"Yeah?" He turned back to look at the spirit, only to find blood flowing down her face, mouth twisted down in complete despair.
"Why would she do that?" Yukiko wailed, her voice raw with disbelief as she absorbed everything Takeo had said about her aunt orchestrating her death. "I thought she cared! She visited me every week and even tried to take me out once a month. Was it all just a trick?"
The brunette watched helplessly as the wailing ghost curled in on herself, the weight of betrayal sinking in. Her form trembled, her spectral body wracked with anguish, as the painful truth unravelled inside her. The pain of her aunt's deception seemed to suffocate her, leaving her broken in the wake of the revelation.
"She told me that we will become family," Yukiko gasped in between sobs.
Iori said nothing, simply bending down to hug her, offering what little comfort he could. He understood the weight of betrayal and silently hoped his presence could offer her even a fraction of the comfort she needed.
"Isn't that sweet?" a haunting voice rang out, cutting through the air and jolting them from their moment. "A living comforting the dead? How... touching. I've never seen that before. No matter."
A cruel grin slowly spread across his face, like a jagged scar.
"Yukiko," he purred, his voice dripping with malice as he watched the spirit straighten. "Grab him."
"What—" Iori started to ask, but his confusion turned to shock as a sharp pain exploded through his shoulder. Before he could react, his hand was wrenched violently behind his back, forcing him into an agonizing bend.
His eyes widened as all the emotions Yukiko had been feeling moments before vanished, replaced by the blank, dazed expression she had worn earlier. Iori winced as her grip tightened with every struggling move he made, regretting his distraction from his surroundings.
"As long as I still have her body," Takeo sang, gesturing for Yukiko to follow him, dragging Iori along in tow. "She's still completely under my control. That said, I shouldn't waste any more time with you. My deadline is almost due. I need to report back to my Master on how the experiment went—hopefully with a strong, resentful spirit in tow."
Iori stumbled along, dragging his feet as Yukiko pulled him down to the first floor of the abandoned factory, forced to follow Takeo's lead.
"Yukiko!" he screamed out. "Wake up! Don't let him control you. You need to wake up!"
With wide eyes, Iori took in the sight before him: the entire area was filled with flickering candles, casting shadows that danced across the walls. On the floor, a massive series of concentric circles had been drawn, each layer inscribed with strange symbols, and at the very centre lay Yukiko's lifeless body. Surrounding her were what seemed like nine empty jars to the human eye, but to Iori, he could see something else within them.
"Don't waste your breath, kid," Takeo hummed jovially as he walked the two to the centre of the floor. "The dead don't have free will. She will listen to the person who has control over her. That's the difference between us and them. The living can still fight back."
Takeo slowly uncapped the nine jars surrounding the still body at the centre of the large circle. With each jar he opened, the symbols on the surrounding circles began to glow, except for the one around the body, which remained dark.
"Bring him here!" Takeo barked, and Iori began to thrash at the sight of the dagger in the man's hand. Horrified, he realized he might become the psycho's tenth soul, the final piece needed to complete the ritual.
"Stop, Yukiko!" the boy screamed, his voice trembling as he desperately tried to break the spirit's trance. But, she couldn't hear him. As if some unseen barrier blocked his voice from reaching her. His heart sank in shock when Takeo seized him, and he stared at Yukiko's back with a look of betrayal, unable to understand why she wasn't responding.
"This will all be done very quickly," Takeo shushed him. "Just think you are going to be part of something amazing. Because of you, we'll be able to strengthen the necromancer society."
With that final taunt, Takeo pulled back the dagger and aimed it at Iori's chest, ready to strike, smirking in glee at the success he would bring back to his master. Helpless, Iori squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable with only one thought in his mind.
Yushi, save me!
"Iori!"
A bright light erupted from the talisman hanging around his neck, and a familiar arm enveloped him. Iori watched in shock as Ren and Rei quickly moved to confront Takeo, while Yushi worked swiftly to ensure Iori was unharmed.
"Iori," Yushi said urgently, cupping the younger man's face with both hands. He trusted the twins to hold their own for the moment. "Look at me. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Iori remained silent, his gaze fixed on Yushi in disbelief, struggling to process everything that had just happened. Concern flashed across the detective's face as the boy stayed motionless in his arms. He saw the brunette's pale face and wide, haunted eyes, silently cursing himself for not protecting him better. Just as Yushi was about to shake him gently, hoping for some response, Iori suddenly wrapped his arms around him and let out a breathless wail of relief.
"I was so scared!" Iori gasped between sobs, while Yushi looked down at him in shock. "You said you would protect me, but I was scared. Next time, I will not trust you again!"
Barking with laughter, the man with golden eyes tightened his grip around the boy and whispered, "I'll make sure there's no next time."
They both enjoyed the time in each other's arms: one in relief for having made it in time, and the other for not being dead at the hands of a deranged psycho.
"Ahem!" Ren coughed, dodging a snarling phantom that aimed for his neck. "Could use a bit of help!"