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“Why can’t we just use a key? These supplies are heavy,” whined Shima, lugging two canisters of high-grade holy water onto the mission van. Shima’s complaints seemed completely justified when Ryuji hefted his own canisters from the ground; Suguro was suddenly very grateful for his lifting routine.
Shura hefted a large duffel bag over her shoulder with a chorus of clattering plastic, a noise Ryuji found awfully strange. What was in that bag, exactly? “Magic keys are a limited resource. And we’re going to need to case the outside of the temple, anyways.”
“Okay, but why do we have to carry all these when Okumura is right there?” Shima continued, a sheen of sweat forming as he lifted the next pair of heavy jugs. Any excitement he’d expressed earlier today about a mission lead by their bustiest professor had dissipated completely— a very good thing, in Ryuji’s opinion. If heavy lifting was what reminded him he was a monk, so be it.
“You can’t seriously think having Okumura carry a bunch of holy water is a good idea,” said Ryuji, shaking his head disapprovingly. “It’s safe for everyone except him.”
“But they’re still sealed, right? Safe enough for me,” said Rin, reaching for a canister.
“Nuh uh!” Snapped Shura, making Rin jerk away as if he’d just been caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Find something else to carry. Anything else.”
Sighing, Rin looked around their pile of supplies for something heavy. Even though he didn’t like calling attention to his strength, Okumura always tried to carry the heaviest loads, realized Ryuji. He was probably just trying to make things easier on everyone who couldn’t lift a car with their bare hands, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.
“Why don’t you go help Moriyama-san, Kamiki, and Konekomaru organize stuff in the back of the van? I’m sure they’ll need help with the heavier stuff,” said Ryuji.
Rin’s expression brightened, making Ryuji’s breath catch in his throat for a moment. There was something about how excited he got to help people that was just so… cute. “Great idea, Suguro!” He rushed to the back of the van, ready to follow orders and lift anything heavy. Thankfully, the rest of the loading went quickly, and they were ready to pile in the van and go before long.
The vehicle was large, white, and nondescript, with a “True Cross Pest Control” logo on the side. The only hint that it was actually an Exorcist vehicle was that the cockroach emblazoned on the van was white and wearing a tiny, ludicrously colored top hat. Sir Pheles couldn’t resist the urge to slap his face on everything, even if it meant representing himself as a literal pest. Inside were a few rows of plush, grey seats, several of which had some suspicious-looking rusty stains.
There were two full-sized seats per row, and Shura headed off any fights for shotgun by occupying the seat with the duffel bag. Shiemi and Izumo took the front and Renzou and Konekomaru took the middle row, leaving Ryuji and Rin to sit together in the back. Ryuji wasn’t used to sitting so far away from the front; in middle school, he’d always insisted on sitting near the front of the bus for field trips. The back of the van felt isolated. Almost intimate. Rin didn’t seem half as flustered by the situation as Ryuji felt. He was bouncing his foot and fiddling with the seatbelt, but that was just Okumura being Okumura, always moving.
“Alright, listen up! I’m about to give the mission briefing,” announced Shura, swinging herself over the center console from the driver’s seat. “We’re headed to a Shinto shrine with a bad Furaribi infestation. Who knows what a Furaribi is?” Konekomaru, Ryuji, and Kamiki raised their hands. “Miwa, go ahead.”
“They’re demons from the Kingdom of Fire that have the body of a bird and the face of a dog,” began Konekomaru. “Legend is that they’re formed after the proper funeral rituals aren’t performed at the right times. They’re not aggressive and tend to wander aimlessly. Their Fatal Verse is the last sentence of the Usnisa Vijaya Dharani.”
“If they’re not aggressive, why are we exorcising them?” Shiemi asked.
“Because they’re a massive fire hazard, especially in swarms,” said Shura. “This is a historical shrine, one of the only ones in Tokyo that didn’t need to be rebuilt after the fire bombings in World War II. They’d like to avoid it being burnt down now, but they also don’t want any structural damage. So the Arias will be chanting and everyone will get one of these,” she said, reaching back to open up the duffel back on the passenger seat and pulling out… a Super Soaker? “Everyone except Okumura, that is.” Her violet eyes flew to the back of the van, fixing on Rin. “Your mission, kid, is to try burning the Furaribi without burning the shrine down with them.”
Ryuji could hear Rin gulp. “Alright.”
“You’re giving us water guns to exorcise demons,” said Kamiki, her voice flat.
“Water guns filled with holy water,” Shura clarified, as if that made things any less strange. “And remember, we’re trying to avoid damaging the shrine, so try to hit the demons and not cause too much water damage, will ya?”
Shura clambered back into the front seat, starting the most harrowing 30 minute drive Ryuji had ever endured— not because he was nervous about the mission, mind you, but because Shura drove like she was auditioning to be a stunt driver. A half hour of squealing tires and narrowly averted crashes later, they finally pulled up to a squat building with a chestnut roof. The building was surrounded by trees and trails to torii, giving it a tranquil, secluded look despite being in an otherwise bustling district. The sun was setting— the witching hour. Or exorcism hour, as it were. After everyone climbed out of the van, they could see the flashes of orange light from hundreds of meters away. It was like the shrine had been swarmed by overgrown fireflies.
They set to work filling their water guns, attaching squirt bottles for refilling to their belts and stuffing them in pockets. Okumura watched from his spot on the hood of the van, his expression unreadable. His blue eyes had taken on a reflective quality in the dim light, glinting as they flicked back and forth from his classmates to the shrine. His tail was curled behind him, occasionally tapping against the hood with metallic thunks. It didn’t take long for them to finish preparing and finally head into the deserted shrine.
The inside of the shrine was already dark. It didn’t look like anyone had bothered to wire it for electricity, and the gas lamps had long since extinguished. Ryuji gripped his water gun tightly, mouthing the Fatal Verse silently. Beside him, Rin had pulled Kurikara out of its case and tucked it through a belt loop, his hand gripping the hilt.
“Shit, I forgot to pack the headlamps,” mumbled Kirigakure-sensei. “Okumura, do you mind?”
Ryuji winced and shielded his eyes as Rin held up his left hand, engulfing it in a brilliant blue flame. His eyes had been in the process of adjusting to the dark, so it took several moments for the flashing lights and floaters from the sudden change to fade from his vision; judging by the jumps and hisses of his fellow classmates, he wasn’t the only one with the issue.
“Holy crap, Okumura, no need to blind us!” Renzou said, still grimacing.
“I’m still working on controlling how bright it gets, okay?” As if to prove his point, the flame coating Rin’s hand flared even brighter, joined by small tongues of flame that momentarily flickered to life on his shoulder and the tip of his lashing tail.
The spat was cut short by a flash of orange flame hurling towards the group, accompanied by a noise somewhere between a squawk and a bark. “What the fuck?!” Ryuji blurted, whipping his water gun towards the Furaribi and pulling the trigger. The demon squawked louder, the flame extinguishing with a sizzling sound as the bird-like creature dissolved into thin air.
“Nice aim,” remarked Kirigakure-sensei.
Then all Hell broke loose.
Somehow, the rest of the Furaribi had gotten the memo about their dead compatriot almost immediately— and were determined to avenge it as a group. They showed up as a flaming swarm, flooding the small room with light and deafening noise. Now that Ryuji was able to get a closer look at what they looked like, he thought Konekomaru was being generous with their description; these little pests were ugly as fuck and mean as sin. Behind the flames, they had the bodies of the grossest, baldest baby bird you could imagine, and the faces of pugs so inbred that they stopped being cute several generations ago. Everyone started shooting wildly, trying to hit any targets they could. Rin moved to the back of the group, pulling his sword and slashing the rear attackers right out of the air.
Ryuji and Konekomaru started to chant, “ Sarva tathagata samasvasa adhisthite — agh!” A Furaribi dive bombed Konekomaru, knocking him to the floor and sending his glasses flying. Rin turned and gave a wrathful cry, darting over to attack the creature and shield the smaller boy. He swatted the Furaribi faster than Ryuji could even see, instantly vaporizing it.
At the exact same time as Rin had been moving, Suguro had shot at the same Furaribi— realizing only after he’d pulled the trigger that Rin had destroyed it and was standing right where it had been. “RIN!”
There was no time for Rin to move out of the way. Ryuji could only watch in horror as the holy water hit him square in the back with an awful sizzle, extinguishing his flames. Rin cried out but didn’t move, still shielding Konekomaru from the swarming demons as the flesh on his back steamed. Ryuji felt like he might throw up. “I’m so sorry, Rin, I didn’t mean—“
“I’m fine. Chant!” Rin barked, his voice rough.
For the first time in his life, Ryuji forgot the words to a sutra. He was completely frozen, his throat paralyzed as if someone had blocked off his vocal cords. What kind of exorcist hurt his teammate? What kind of monk couldn’t chant?
Konekomaru, thankfully, picked up the slack. “ Sarva tathagata adhisthite, Buddha-Buddha ,” he chanted, his voice tremulous. Several more demons tried to dive at him again, but Rin dutifully shielded him. He didn’t even flinch as the furaribi clawed and pecked, the wounds and scratches healing shortly after being inflicted. Ryuji swore his healing was slower than usual, but it was still leagues faster than a human’s. Even when they started clawing and tugging at his tail, Rin didn’t budge. “ Vibiddha-Vibuddha, Bodhaya-Bodhaya, Vibodhaya-Vibodhaya. Samanta parisuddhe .” Konekomaru’s voice grew steadier, louder. “ Sarva tathagata hrdaya adhisthanadhisthita maha-mudre svaha! ”
A chorus of demonic shrieks rang out as once as the entire swarm vanished, leaving the room dark and silent. For several long moments, the only sound in the room was everyone’s exhausted panting.
“Is… is that it? Are they all really gone?” Shiemi asked.
“I can’t sense any more demons,” said Rin, audibly strained despite his best attempts at seeming fine. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Rin’s arms and legs gave out from under him and he collapsed next to where Konekomaru was sitting. Suguro’s stomach dropped.
“Rin-kun!” Konekomaru cried out, jostling his classmate by the shoulder. With their only light source out of commission, Shima pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it directly on Rin as everyone moved to crowd around him.
Shura hissed in sympathy. He looked in worse shape than Ryuji had thought he was, now that they could all see Rin clearly. His shirt and jacket were soaked with holy water and torn to shreds, sluggishly healing claw marks visible through the torn fabric. Shiemi knelt at his side, rolling up her sleeves and switching into Healer Mode. “Rin! Rin, can you hear me?” She said, shaking him by the shoulder.
Rin groaned. “I’m fine, just… give me a second,” he mumbled. “I’ll heal up.”
“Not with that soaked shirt on, you won’t,” intoned Shura darkly.
Shiemi nodded in agreement. “We need to get his shirt and jacket off.”
Rin’s eyes widened, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “Huh? N-no, I’m good—“
“Come on, Okumura,” grumbled Ryuji, grabbing him and pulling him into a sitting position despite his protests. “I’ll help you. Your clothes are wrecked anyways.”
For the first time, Rin looked down and registered the state of his clothing. He sighed. “Fine. Everyone else turn around, though,” he insisted firmly.
The rest of the Exwires and Shura did as told. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” Shiemi told Ryuji as they all exited the shrine, presumably to start packing up the van again.
So Rin and Ryuji were pretty much alone. And working on taking Rin’s clothes off. Together. Even though he still felt horribly guilty for Rin’s injuries, Ryuji couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Since when are you self-conscious?”
“I’m not. I just don’t need everyone staring and worrying about me while I change,” said Rin, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with shaking, clumsy fingers. “ Shit .”
“Here, let me help.” Ryuji took a few deep breaths to steady his own hands before reaching for Rin’s button down. Their hands brushed briefly, sending a jolt through Ryuji that made his heart beat a little faster.
With his shirt unbuttoned, Rin stiffly shrugged out of his jacket and button-down. He shivered when his back, still raw, hit the cool air as the last of the holy water on his skin evaporated. Rin’s build was more lean and compact than Ryuji’s frame, but he was still very clearly muscular, especially with his shirt off. Ryuji tried and failed to politely avert his gaze.
“My eyes are up here,” Rin joked. Ryuji was tan enough that his blushing was rarely visible, but he could feel his face and ears growing hot. Great, now Okumura probably thought he’d sprayed him just to get his shirt off!
“I… I’m really sorry, Rin,” stammered Ryuji again. “I should have aimed better—“
“And I shouldn’t have doven in front of you. Diven? Whatever,” said Rin, shrugging. He was starting to perk up again with the soaked clothing off, to Suguro’s relief; the last of his wounds were finally closing. “I told you I’d be fine, it’s not a big deal.”
“Healing fast doesn’t make it alright for you to get hurt! You need to look out for your own safety more,” scolded Suguro, taking off his own uniform jacket and pulling his sweater vest over his head. He balled up the knit fabric and threw it at Rin, looking away so the blush didn’t come back. “Here.”
He could feel Rin staring at him with eyes the size of dinner plates, even without looking. Just the mental image of him looking equal parts oblivious and incredulous made the heat start to creep up Ryuji’s neck again. There were a few soft rustling noises as Rin pulled on the sweater, at which point Ryuji deemed it safe to look at him again.
“Thanks,” Rin said softly. He kept looking down at the sweater, brushing his hand over it gingerly. It was slightly too large on him in a way Ryuji couldn’t help but appreciate; the way his collarbones showed through the v-neck and it hung loose on his slim frame made it clear he was wearing something borrowed. Ryuji liked the idea of people seeing him and knowing Rin was wearing his sweater, of Rin taking comfort in something that reminded him of Ryuji.
“It’s nothing. You can keep it, if you want,” said Suguro, desperately trying to sound casual.
It was Rin’s turn to blush this time, grasping handfuls of loose fabric in his hands. “Really? Are you sure?”
Ryuji pulled his own jacket on a little bit too roughly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve got plenty, it’s not a big deal,” he lied. “Now let’s get out of here before they get worried about us.”