Onmyodo Lab, Third Floor

In two days, school would be out for summer break. It was so hot and muggy on the upper floors, despite the building having air conditioning. The heat made it hard to think, let alone concentrate. Humidity permeated everything so that Suzuki Jiro’s school uniform shirt stuck to his chest.

Blinking to stay awake, he meticulously folded yet another origami figure. Perfect angles and corners, perfect creases. A pile of more than a dozen sat on his desk. It was the worst part of this class. Binding a spirit to the figures to create a shikigami was so much more exciting. The problem was that Jiro was always bored by the time they reached the fun part and this heat didn't help. Jiro stifled a yawn.

Of course, Hayashi Masahiro’s origami group was stacked neatly and he was ahead of Jiro by several figures. Hayashi was an ushirogami (a ghost spirit with a single eye) and Jiro’s best friend. Hayashi always beat him in this class, but when it came to programming—Jiro would beat Hayashi for speed and results. They were well matched this way and their research showed how good they worked together.

Did it really matter how fast and neat Jiro could fold a figure as long as he had one on him when he needed it? He always carried a few origami figures with him for just in case. He never knew when there would be a chance to go on an adventure with Umeji Tatsuya. Umeji was Jiro’s hero, not just because he left his criminal life behind him and was now a respected member of the clandestine group called the League of Guardians, but also because Umeji trusted Jiro enough to bring him along on occasional missions.

Hayashi was already on to the next steps of the lab. Jiro shook his head to clear it. Focus. This is the fun part. Setting his final of the mandatory twenty figures in place, he stifled a yawn.

He began the binding by placing stones for the five points of the magic circle - earth, wind, water, wood, and metal. Then he placed an origami figure in the center.

Jiro's eyelids drooped as he wrote out the complicated spell with brush and ink. Come on, stay awake! His cursive still left much to be desired according to his teacher, but his spells always worked. That’s what mattered. But this time, he had a sloppy stroke that made the character unrecognizable.

He looked around and instead of tearing up the paper spell and starting over like he was supposed to, he tucked it into his pocket so people around him wouldn't know he'd made a mistake. Everyone always looked up when they heard tearing. Then he snagged the next piece of paper and wrote the spell more carefully.

Hayashi’s single eyebrow raised, but he didn’t say anything. He always had Jiro's back.

Then the stones in all the onmyodo casting circles clattered to the floor and glass crashed as a piece of something red and fabric-like flew out the window.

Shit. Jiro's head hung. Should've known better.

All eyes instantly glued to Jiro as a book tapped his head and Yamada, the lab assistant, commanded with a sternness that cut the air. “Suzuki-kun, explain.”

Jiro gulped and pulled the botched spell paper from his pocket. “I miswrote this one because the heat almost made me nod off.”

“If it was a more powerful spirit you failed to bind, it wouldn't have run. What might it do to you or those around you?” Yamada punctuated each sentence like a slap.

Stammering, Jiro said, “It m-might have attacked us, Sensei.”

Closing his eyes, Yamada leaned on Jiro's desk and breathed in his ear. “It could have been the last mistake you'd ever make. If you were summoning an oni spirit, it would have eaten you.”

The censure made Jiro's face burn, but the lab assistant wasn't done. “It happened to my field partner. I'll never forget her screams.”

A shiver ran down Jiro's spine.

The lab assistant pointed to the broken window. “Now find that spirit and send it back to where you summoned it from.”

“Y-yes, Sensei." Jiro rose then bowed his apology for putting the class in danger. He didn't bother gathering up his belongings or the stack of origami figures before sprinting out the sliding door.

Hayashi's request to help carried down the hall. Jiro didn't feel he'd have been able to ask and gratitude welled up inside him for his friend's loyalty.

Another crash gave Jiro a direction to head—the library. His gut clenched. If this spirit caused too much chaos, would Jiro or Hayashi ever be allowed in this sanctuary where they'd hung out so often?

A cold hand on Jiro's shoulder made him jump as he tried to pour on speed. But that was just how Hayashi let him know he was there. Ghosts weren't slowed by the physical body, unlike Jiro who was only human.

“If I could carry you I would, but I'll go ahead and try to keep the thing from making too much of a mess. Got a banishing ofuda on you?" Hayashi asked. “I didn't have time to write one.”

“Yeah.” Jiro dug in his inner coat pocket and almost tripped as he sifted through the paper talismans. “It's in here...somewhere.”

“We're gonna need it.” Hayashi disappeared from Jiro's side and reappeared at the library door to scan his student pass for access.

Jiro could hear swearing as Hayashi leapt inside and paper came flying out the doors. Aw crap.

When Jiro finally entered the building, books were scattered everywhere. A glimpse of red flittering to the left gave Jiro direction again. This time in a non-fiction aisle.

Hayashi called to him, “I'll get on the other side!”

Jiro skidded to a stop at the end of the aisle and gripped the talisman so hard it crumpled. Their quarry was a small, tatty, fabric dragon. Not too dangerous. They were only known for strangling people on occasion if they got too wild in hazing their victims. Not eating them, at least.

The dragon bolted straight up to escape being cornered and Hayashi leapt, tackling the thing. The commotion knocked a host of volumes on the floor. The little dragon sputtered, “Unhand me you oaf!”

A group of librarians scurried over. “You hooligans, leave the library this instant! This is a place of quiet and study, not a place for sumo wrestling tournaments!”

Jiro dodged them and slid to slap the ofuda on the dragon's head with a loud thump. Poof! Dust filled the air, causing all in the vicinity to cough violently. But the dragon spirit was gone. All that remained of the thing in this dimension was the ripped fabric.

Panting for breath, Jiro let himself be hauled to his feet by a crow-like librarian. “You and your friend will clean up this mess and pay for any damages. You'll also not be allowed back in here for the rest of the year. Do you hear me?”

Jiro and Hayashi nodded gloomily.

After cleaning up the mess and helping to repair as many books as they could, it was dark and they'd missed supper at the cafeteria. They trudged back to the lab classroom.

Inside, Yamada was eating a sandwich at his desk. “You forgot your things in the chaos. And there's another development...”

The pair of students groaned.

“Could be worse," Yamada offered in a quiet tone and put Jiro's origami figures in a pile next to the sandwich. One of them jumped up and rushed over in front of Jiro before bowing deeply.

“A spirit still claimed the figure even though it wasn't the one I summoned?” Jiro asked.

“It appears so. I've only heard of this happening once before. It's in the last chapter of your text book. Take your things and your spirit bound of its own accord and look the incident up. I think you'll find it enlightening. Normally we'd dismiss spirits after a lab, but...”

Jiro and Hayashi grabbed their things and Jiro held out a hand for the origami puppet. It ran right up his arm and sat on his shoulder. The boys dashed to their shared dorm room, threw their things on the floor, and slammed open the textbook to the last chapter on the desk.

Hayashi read aloud, "The only known person to achieve a voluntary binding was Abe no Seime, the greatest onmyoji known to history."

Sinking to his knees, Jiro blinked for a moment, then turned to the little figure. “You chose me? The one who screwed up for not following the rules?”

The figure hopped off his shoulder and put its hands on its hips.

Jiro waved in front of his face. “Okay, okay! Sorry!”

It climbed up the desk and picked up a pen and wrote on the back cover of Jiro's notebook. “I am Tsuji.”

Hayashi, glancing to Jiro, asked, “Now what do we do?”

“Find out why Tsuji chose us, I guess...” Jiro shrugged and the figure nodded.

That's a tale for another day...