Kaito's question – "Where do we start?" – hung in the air, a heavy weight of expectation. Aiko turned from him to face the massive, glowing map of Tokyo that dominated the wall. The city, usually a symbol of vibrant life, now looked like a complex battlefield laid out before her.
"I need quiet," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She closed her eyes, shutting out the familiar lines of wards and districts, and reached inward, calling upon the warm, golden ember of the Kirin's blessing within her chest. It was the source of her new sight, the light that could perceive the blight's darkness.
Slowly, carefully, she let her senses expand, pushing past the comforting, familiar energies of the Ishikawa estate – the sleepy contentment of the Tsukumogami, the solemn dignity of the ancestors, the playful flickers of the garden spirits. She pushed further, out into the chaotic, humming spiritual landscape of the city itself.
Instantly, the cold web appeared in her mind's eye, superimposed over the city map. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of thin, icy threads snaked through the spiritual pathways, touching afflicted spirits, marking territories, all leading back towards the single, blindingly cold point of origin she had identified – Kuroda Masamune in his Shinjuku fortress.
Kaito came to stand silently beside her, not touching her, but his presence a steady, protective warmth at her back. He watched her face intently, reading the subtle shifts in her expression, the slight furrowing of her brow.
"Can you trace them?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, careful not to break her concentration. "Can you see where they gather? Where he works his magic?"
Aiko focused, pushing past the sheer volume of suffering the threads represented. She followed the cold pathways, looking for intersections, for places where the blight felt stronger, older. The Shinjuku office tower was the heart, yes, but the infection had roots.
"There are... nodes," she murmured, her hand rising to trace patterns on the cool screen of the map, though her eyes remained closed. "Older concentrations. Places the Kageyama must have used... before Kuroda."
Her mental finger traced a path away from the glittering modernity of Shinjuku, towards the older, quieter neighborhoods nestled along the Sumida River. "Asakusa," she breathed. "Near the temple... but not the main grounds. An old warehouse district, by the water. The threads are thickest there. Tangled. It feels... old. And sick."
She concentrated harder, trying to get a clearer picture, pushing her senses deeper into that cold knot of energy.
Suddenly, a violent psychic jolt slammed into her mind, like a physical blow. It was cold, sharp, and filled with an intelligent, interrogating malice. Who are you? How do you see me?
Aiko cried out, stumbling back, her eyes flying open. Kaito caught her instantly, his arms a steel band around her, shielding her. "Aiko! What is it?"
"He felt me!" she gasped, trembling, pressing herself against his solid warmth. "Kuroda. He felt me looking. He pushed back."
Kaito's face hardened into a mask of cold fury. He held her tighter for a moment, then gently set her back on her feet, though his hands remained protectively on her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"
"No," she said, taking a shaky breath. She quickly rebuilt the mental wall around the Kirin's light, shutting down her expanded senses, becoming a shadow once more. The distant, probing cold vanished. "I shielded in time. But he knows someone is looking now. Someone who can see him."
Kaito's expression was grim. Their stealth advantage was compromised. Kuroda was alerted.
"The warehouse district in Asakusa," Kaito said, his voice a low growl. "That must be their original nest. Their laboratory, perhaps. Where the blight began." He looked down at her, his earlier awe now tempered with a fierce concern. "You did well. You found it. But you will not probe like that again. It's too dangerous. He could track the connection back to you."
He turned back to the map, his mind already shifting to tactical planning. "Kenji will take a team. Discreet surveillance only. They will assess the location, map its physical and spiritual defenses. We need to know exactly what we're walking into."
He looked back at Aiko, who was still pale but resolute. "Your role is vital," he said, his voice softening slightly. "But your safety comes first. From now on, you guide us, but I will be the one who knocks on the door."
He reached out, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. "Rest now, Aiko. You've done more than enough for one day."
She nodded, leaning into his touch for a brief moment. They had their target. The hunt had narrowed. But the prey was now aware, and the shadows were stirring.