The psychic echo of Kuroda's mental strike left Aiko feeling raw and exposed, as if her soul had been scraped with ice. Kaito didn't let go of her for a long time, his strong arms a solid wall, shielding her from a threat that was now miles away but felt like it was still in the room. He led her to the sofa and gently pushed her down, his expression a mask of controlled fury.
He didn't speak. He went to the kitchen and made tea, his movements sharp and efficient. He brought her a cup of her grandmother's green tea from the now-precious set. The simple, domestic gesture was so at odds with the supernatural battle they were now engaged in that Aiko almost laughed. He was treating a psychic attack like a case of shock. Maybe he was right.
She wrapped her trembling hands around the warm ceramic, the familiar, comforting spirit of the Tsukumogami teapot reaching out to her, soothing her frayed nerves. Kaito sat in the armchair opposite her, not as a commander, but as a guardian, his eyes never leaving her face.
"You were right," Aiko whispered into the quiet, her voice still shaky. "It was too dangerous. He felt me instantly."
"He felt the Kirin's light," Kaito corrected her, his voice a low, hard rumble. "He felt a power he cannot comprehend, one that just undid his life's work at the asylum. He is not just alerted, Aiko. He is terrified. And a terrified sorcerer is the most dangerous creature in the world."
He leaned forward, his protective intensity a tangible force. "He will hunt for you. He will send every spiritual tracker, every bound creature, every human informant he has to find the source of that light. From this moment on, your shielding is not just a tactic. It is your single most important defense. You must become a ghost."
As if summoned by his words, the door to Kaito's quarters slid open to admit Master Jin. The old scholar's face was grim. He had clearly been briefed by Kenji.
"Your hunt was a success, Aiko-sama," Jin said, bowing to her with a new, profound respect that still made her uncomfortable. "You have pinpointed the nest. But in doing so, you have rattled the hornet."
"She needs more than a simple shield, Master Jin," Kaito said, standing. "She can no longer be a passive shadow. She must become a fortress. She needs to learn how to actively deflect a probe. How to give a false reading. How to lie with her spirit."
Master Jin nodded, his ancient eyes thoughtful. "A shield of will is one thing. A shield of deception... that is advanced, difficult magic. It requires a calm mind and an iron will."
"She has both," Kaito stated simply, his faith in her absolute.
"Then her lessons will begin at once," Jin said. "We will teach her to cloak her light in shadows, to project the mundane aura of a simple human, to become invisible to those who hunt her."
The new plan was set. Aiko would train, becoming a true ghost, while Kaito's forces gathered intelligence from a safe distance. The waiting game had begun again, but this time, the stakes were infinitely higher.
The rest of the day was a blur of exhausting mental exercise. Master Jin was a patient but demanding teacher. He had Aiko practice sensing his own probing energy—a calm, dry, ancient feeling—and then taught her how to build a mental wall to stop it. Then, he taught her the harder part: how to project a "false" aura over the wall. She practiced projecting the bland, neutral energy of a concrete pillar. Then the simple, unthinking presence of Mochi, who was sleeping on a cushion nearby. It was the most difficult thing she had ever done, requiring a level of focus that left her drained and dizzy.
By evening, she had achieved a fragile, shaky control. She was just beginning to feel like she had a grasp on it when Kenji returned.
One look at his face told them the news was not good.
"Sama," he said, bowing, his voice tight with frustration. "The Asakusa warehouse is... a fortress. Worse than we thought."
He brought up a series of images on the main monitor. They were grainy, long-distance shots, shimmering with distortion. "The building is physically unassuming. But it is surrounded by a triple-layered spiritual ward. My team's own protective charms began to corrode when they got within a hundred meters."
He pointed to a close-up of the building's graffiti-covered wall. "This is not common Yakuza warding. This is Chinkonshi magic. It's designed to unmake other spirits. Master Jin confirmed it. Any of our allied yokai—even your Kamaitachi, perhaps—would be shredded or poisoned before they got within ten feet of the door."
A cold silence fell over the room. Kaito's fist clenched. His greatest weapon, his supernatural speed and power, was useless against a defense like this.
"We can't get in," Kenji concluded grimly. "We can't even get close enough to see what's inside or how to dismantle the wards. We are completely blind."
Aiko looked at the screen, at the shimmering, corrosive energy she could almost feel, even through the photograph. She looked at Kaito, at the look of controlled fury and frustration on his face. They were blind. But she wasn't.
She had been forbidden from probing, from reaching out. But there was another way. A more delicate, surgical approach.
"Kenji," she said, her voice quiet but clear, gaining the attention of all three men. "Did your team bring anything back? Anything from the perimeter? A rock? A piece of trash? Anything that was near the building?"
Kenji blinked, surprised by the question. "Yes. One of my operatives retrieved a loose brick from an alleyway overlooking the warehouse, about two hundred meters out. It's in an evidence bag. Why?"
Aiko looked at Kaito, her resolve hardening. "You told me not to reach out to them. You're right. It's too dangerous." She took a deep breath. "So, bring me the brick. I'll reach out to it."