"Any idea why the ambush happened?"
The voice belonged to a man who looked like he'd walked straight off a fashion billboard. Ren flinched, startled by his presence. The rest of the group, however, didn't even blink as they entered the narrow Izakaya Ramen tucked into the side streets of Asakusa.
The man—dressed in a sharp, jet-black three-piece suit—stood with effortless confidence. He had the kind of bone structure that photographers drool over, and a coldness in his gaze that made Ren's skin crawl.
"How the hell do you think we'd know that?" Ryosuke snapped, his tone venomous. "Idiot."
Ren blinked, eyes flickering between the stranger and Ryosuke. Wait... they kind of look alike. But this cool dude's a lot taller. Abnormal height.This guy's gotta be Tomo-sensei. Ren thought to himself. They've got the same sharp eyes and that 'I-don't-give-a-shit' energy.
"Hey now, I'm still your fill-in teacher," the man replied with a sly grin. "Try not to embarrass me in front of the newbie."
He turned to Ren with a brief nod. "Akai Ren, right? Nice to meet you. You've caused quite the stir."
"Ah, yeah. Uh, pleasure to meet you, Sensei..." Ren stammered, unable to look away from the man's ice-cold stare.
"Minamoto Tomo," the man introduced, then casually reached over and smacked Ryosuke on the back of the head. "This idiot's uncle...."
"ACK!" Ryosuke squawked.
"And your temporary instructor." He added.
Tomo tilted his head, the grin still tugging at one corner of his mouth. "I run the Special Class. If you manage to survive long enough, I might even steal you away. We do fun shit—decapitating cursed bastards, hunting heads, the usual."
The fuck did he just say? Ren glanced at Sakura and Ryosuke. No wonder they call this guy a sucker.
"You're in such a mood today, Sensei." Yamada intervened, arms crossed. "Quite the warm welcome for the student yourgirlfriend handpicked to join."
Girlfriend? Wait... V-sensei?
Tomo's expression didn't shift. "Ah, right. She'd probably beat the crap out of me, wouldn't she?" His voice was dry. Deadpan. A smirk flickered again, but there was no warmth in it.
"Anyway, sit down. I ordered my favorite ramen for everyone. Should be out in a minute."
"Why the hell did you even drag us here?" Ryosuke muttered, clearly on edge. "I hate the city. Touristy."
"To piss you off." Tomo retorted, smirking again.
Ryosuke's face turned crimson. One hand was already drifting toward the hilt of his katana.
The air tightened. Even the clatter of bowls from the kitchen in the back seemed to hush.
Sakura hadn't said a single word since stepping inside. She sat in silence, eyes unreadable.
Whew. Is Tomo-sensei that bad? He doesn't seem like a teacher. More like the final Yakuza boss in some video game.
"So," Tomo said, breaking the silence, "none of you can figure out why the ambush happened?"
Ryosuke's eyes narrowed. "You're seriously asking us that?"
"I'm asking you to use your brain, little nephew." Tomo's tone turned sharp.
For a moment, the table went quiet again.
Then Sakura's voice sliced through the silence like a blade. "Did you do it, Sensei?"
Her gaze met Tomo's, calm but dangerous.
"And if I did?" He answered, casually leaning back. That damn smirk again.
Yup. Ren thought. This dude is definitely giving villain vibes.
Yamada's chair screeched against the floor as he stood. His eyes were blazing. "Give me one good reason not to crush your smug face into the fucking wall."
Tomo met Yamada's fury with an expression of complete disinterest.
"Mr. Shinichi was nearly killed. You better explain. Now."
Ren swallowed hard. He could feel the pressure radiating off Yamada like a furnace. But even so, challenging Tomo felt like stepping into a pit full of vipers. He didn't even need to activate his Shoshiki power to be terrifying.
Still... damn. Yamada's a beast. Cool dude, but scary as hell when pissed.
"It wasn't him."
Every head in the room snapped toward me—including the ones over there... I could feel the gazes lurking behind the sliding doors, watching us like hawks through paper-thin walls.
"If it was him, he wouldn't have broken character this early. Timing's off. Besides…" I glanced at the decor, the subtle signs hidden in plain sight. "This isn't just some hole-in-the-wall Izakaya. Either one of the Big Four owns this place, or someone with serious clout in the Soshiki does. But not the Minamotos. The crest on the wall doesn't match the ones I saw earlier—from the Principal, his son, or even his grandson. So, if Tomo-sensei were the bad guy here, he'd have to be a fucking idiot. Which, to be fair, Ryosuke already called him."
I paused, nodding toward the door. "Also, those shadows back there? They're not just eavesdropping. They're on high alert, ready to pounce if this turns south. Tell me I'm wrong."
Tomo-sensei gave a slow, sarcastic clap. He was either impressed, amused, or both. Hard to tell—his face still looked like a frozen lake in midwinter.
"Not bad, newbie. Sharp eye. Except…" He tilted his head, expression unreadable. "I did release about a hundred Onis who were being held. So yeah. Sorry about that. But the question I asked wasn't who. It was why."
Before anyone could process that horror, Yamada launched a punch square at Tomo's face.
Tomo didn't even flinch—just tilted his head, dodging it like it was routine. Like someone swatting away a gnat.
What the hell kind of anime bullshit am I caught in? I didn't sign up for this.
Chaos then exploded. The figures behind the wall surged into the room—fast, silent, lethal. Four guards in traditional robes moved to pin Ryosuke, Yamada, and Sakura before they could react. I, apparently, was still in "confused bystander" mode and got spared.
One guard stood trembling in front of Tomo, like he'd drawn the short straw. And then…
The door slid open again.
An older man stepped in, his presence shifting the entire atmosphere. He reminded Ren of the orphanage caretaker—stern, quiet, and not the kind of person you wanted to piss off.
And he looked deeply unamused.
"Tomo," he snapped, voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "This is not the place for your bullshit. I've warned you more than a few goddamn times."
Tomo straightened up like a schoolboy and bowed. "My sincerest apologies, Matsumoto-sama."
Ah. That tracks. Matsumoto Izakaya Ramen. Should've clocked it earlier.
Shit, Ren. Focus. We're in the middle of a Soap Oper—I mean, meeting. We're in a middle of a serious meeting.
Matsumoto gave a weary sigh. "You couldn't even take this outside. There are civilians out there. Explain. Now. You summoned the students here for a reason."
Tomo assumed a more formal stance, though the smirk still lingered. "Just a little lecture."
"Fighting?" Matsumoto growled.
"Learning." Tomo replied with a perfectly straight face.
Yamada wasn't having it. "Learning?! You unleashed a fucking army of Onis! Mr. Shinichi nearly died, you bastard!"
Tomo just nodded, still maddeningly calm. "Exactly, Yamachin."
Matsumoto's voice dropped low, cold. "Explain yourself, Minamoto Tomo. You know the practice of holding-releasing Spectres was outlawed a decade ago… by your own woman."
The air in the room thickened. That last line hit like a slap. Tomo's expression didn't change, but Ren swore something in him twitched.
"You not only lied," Matsumoto continued, "but you dared to pull this shit in my establishment."
There was silence. A long, heavy pause. Then—
"And whatever happened to this place valuing client's privacy?" Tomo drawled, eyes narrowing. "Back in the day, you didn't give a single fuck about pouring Sake for a certain sixteen-year-old."
Matsumoto's jaw clenched. A flashback took him back to that day, when she cried in so much pain, on her brother's death anniversary...
"I know you smelled something off when I booked the VIP room for the students. That's why you had your little ninjas in the walls. Am I wrong?" Tomo chuckled, then slid both hands into his pockets. "But with all due respect, Matsumoto-sama… I could snap my fingers and level them all."
Matsumoto's voice boomed. "Get to the point, Tomo!"
The tension pressed in from all sides. It was stifling. Even the wallpaper seemed to be sweating.
Tomo finally pulled his hands from his pockets. "Well, kids. Here's your lesson for the night."
He reached for his katana.
"Strength? Doesn't mean shit compared to power."
With a single motion, he unsheathed it—razor-sharp—and sliced through the walls.
A pressure hit my brain like a freight train. Something dark… ancient. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
They were here.
The Spectres.
And they'd just surrounded the entire damn building.
**
"What… What is this? How the hell could this happen?" Matsumoto's voice was barely a whisper, eyes blown wide in disbelief. "They shouldn't be able to enter. It's impossible. There's a seal—"
"But that's the filthy beauty of this screwed-up power system we live in, Matsumoto-sama." Tomo cut in smoothly, like he hadn't just committed a casual war crime.
"What are you saying?" Matsumoto turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
"They know." Tomo said simply.
"They...? You mean…"
"The Higher-ups, yes."
Matsumoto froze.
"Not all of them." Tomo shrugged. "But V and Saiaka? Yeah. They're already en route to clean up this mess. Pardon the language, Matsumoto-sama, but I'm not exactly in a zen place right now. I spent the morning in court dealing with a snitch dressed like a lawyer, and now I'm babysitting spectral gatecrashers."
There was a beat of silence before Sakura, bless her tactless soul, piped up like she was ordering takeout. "So uh... do we fight the Spectres now, or just stand here looking dumb as shit?"
"Hold it, Sakura." Tomo didn't even look back. He just swung his katana.
Once.
And just like that—*snap*—the pressure in the room collapsed. The suffocating, skin-prickling weight of the Spectres vanished like they were never there.
In. One. Fucking. Minute.
Motherfu—
Tomo-sensei stood tall, katana in hand, a living breathing samurai pulled straight out of hell's art gallery. Calm. Unbothered. Sharp enough to cut through gods.
I blinked.
Still stunned. Still absolutely lost.
But damn if I wasn't impressed…
**
Thirty minutes later, I learned the ugly truth: some of the so-called Higher-ups in this secret organization had intentionally captured and released Spectres—specifically the Oni kind. Turns out, Onis aren't exactly warrior types. Dangerous? Yes. But apparently, they treat humans like casual snacks, which makes them easier to catch and manipulate.
And guess what? The Higher-ups went batshit crazy with that sealed gate in southwest Tokyo—near Mount Uzumaki, a stone's throw from my new school. They cracked that seal just enough for Onis to slip through. No other types. Just the Onis. Meaning the ones that attacked Yamada and me? Onis. The ones that wrecked this Izakaya? Also Onis. And Tomo-sensei took a part on the attack? Yes. The reason? About to find out why.
Tomo-sensei had to use some high-level Manipulation Technique—one of his many terrifying talents—to let them phase through without harming us... though it did attack us so I don't know bruh. But all of that was apparently cleared with Mr. Shinichi, one of the school's black-suited agents, who knew and still greenlit the mission. The guy's injured now, but something tells me that's just another Tuesday for them. Meanwhile, I'm still new to this cursed reality.
And the reason behind all this chaos?
Matsumoto-sama.
That was pretty much what I gathered. Not because I was snooping—hell no. I really had zero intention of eavesdropping. But fate, or maybe bad luck, shoved it into my ears.
I was just coming back from the restroom, passing through the corridor, when I heard voices. Tomo-sensei and Matsumoto-sama. I didn't mean to stop. I didn't mean to hear it.
But once I did, my heart started thudding like a war drum.
"How did they find out?" Matsumoto-sama's voice was sharp, colder than usual.
Tomo-sensei pointed at the half-demolished wall. "They confirmed their suspicion about you not long ago."
"They have, huh?"
"V's informants reported it to her just last night. She was in Manila. Took the first flight back to Japan at dawn."
"The Red Division. She's becoming even more powerful now."
"She is..."
"Damn it, my senses are getting dull. Guess growing old has its downside. How could I not feel the Power Force layered in those fucking walls…"
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Matsumoto-sama. Your only weakness—gods, I hate saying this—but it's your damn kindness. Harboring those Spectres—"
"They're harmless," he interrupted.
"They're still the enemy," Tomo-sensei shot back without missing a beat.
Matsumoto-sama sighed, quiet but heavy. "You kids were raised to believe the enemy is always the enemy."
"Yeah. That's the mantra."
"But have you ever stopped to ask if that belief is even worth holding?"
Tomo-sensei paused. Then something rare happened: he smiled. Not the usual dry, sarcastic smirk that I experienced in the span of short minutes earlier, but something softer—real. It was the kind of smile you only show when your armor slips. "Philosophy 101, huh? Did you forget why I left, Sir?"
"I'm a few months away from turning a hundred." Matsumoto-sama said with a bitter chuckle. "That's a blessing. And a goddamn curse. I've done shit in my life that I'll never forgive myself for." He paused. "Harboring those Spectres… it's not redemption. Not really."
"But it gives you a reason to keep going," Tomo said, gently.
"To protect something good. Yeah." Matsumoto-sama's voice cracked a little. "All those years of war… the lives I took… the families I shattered…"
"You chose that path, Sir. You were a soldier. Death is the blood tax of war. Death finds us even when we're not fighting. Don't mistake us—we might be a fucked-up generation, but we're not without hearts. You matter. Especially to V. She may not say it, but she chose you. She cares."
Matsumoto-sama laughed—a full belly laugh, the kind that sounds like it hurts. "That damn brat… she's been through so much."
"She would've burned Soshiki to the ground if the Higher-ups laid hands on you. Hell, she'd have chopped off my head if I didn't act fast. I'm just glad I got here on time. Even if I feel bad for dragging the kids into this. But let's be clear—what you did, Matsumoto-sama, was still a crime. As a former General, you know that better than anyone."
"I broke Soshiki Law with my eyes open. I know what I did." He went quiet, then added softly, "Tomo… I'm grateful you came back. I'm glad she's with you."
Another rare smile from Tomo Sensei. "That, I'm grateful for too, Sir."
"You'll take care of them, won't you? The Spectres. They've never hurt a single soul…"
"I'll find a way. That's a promise."
"Then maybe… I can finally rest beneath my ancestors."
My heart raced so fast I could barely hear my own thoughts.
And then I felt it.
Another presence. Another attack.
But this time?
It wasn't the Spectres.