The orphanage sat quietly under the glow of the te afternoon sun, its familiar walls weathered but warm. The faint sound of children’s ughter echoed from inside, a soft hum of life filling the air.

  The door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped in—Watari Hayashi. His footsteps were casual, rexed, the weight of past battles nowhere to be seen on his shoulders. His coat draped loosely over his frame, and his sword? Not at his side.

  It had been a long time since he needed it.

  The moment he entered, a swarm of tiny figures rushed at him.

  “Watari!”

  A group of kids tched onto his legs, their faces beaming with excitement.

  “What’s for dinner tonight?” one of them asked, eyes shining with hope.

  Watari chuckled, ruffling the kid’s hair.

  “We’re not eating until you all finish your studies first.”

  A chorus of groans filled the room, but they were short-lived.

  “Oh! Oh! Mii-chan’s coming today, right?” another kid piped up, bouncing on his heels.

  Watari nodded.

  “Yeah. You guys get to py with her for a while. But first, I need to get ready.”

  The excitement in the room doubled. The kids practically vibrated with energy, already pnning what games they’d py.

  Watari smiled, shaking his head as he made his way toward the stairs. He climbed them at a steady pace, the creak of the old wood beneath his feet grounding him in the moment. The hallway was quiet, the faint smell of old books and childhood memories lingering in the air.

  Reaching his door, he pushed it open absentmindedly, stepping inside.

  And then—

  The world shifted.

  The moment he closed the door behind him, the familiar warmth of the orphanage vanished.

  His breath caught.

  The air was heavier. The light dimmed. And when he lifted his gaze—

  He was no longer in his room.

  Instead, he stood in the ethereal vastness of the Chūkan Yūrei. The golden mist curled zily around him, shifting as if greeting an old acquaintance.

  And before him, standing with arms crossed and an unimpressed expression, was Koharu.

  Beside her, Ayase smirked, his usual unreadable amusement dancing in his eyes.

  Koharu didn’t waste time. She tilted her head slightly, her voice ced with irritation.

  “Who joins an organization for two years and doesn’t even check in to say hello?”

  Watari blinked. His mind reeled, gears turning as he processed her words.

  Two years.

  Two whole years since he st stepped into the Chūkan.

  Since he st spoke to them.

  Since he officially became one of them.

  A flicker of guilt crossed his face.

  Koharu caught it instantly. She exhaled, shaking her head, her expression softening—just a little.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  A beat.

  Then, she pced a hand on her hip, studying him.

  “Well, I guess there’s no need for formalities.”

  She paused, a slow smirk curling at the edge of her lips.

  “Welcome to the Chūkan—”

  She stopped herself. Then, with a knowing look, she corrected—

  “No. You’ve already been here before.”

  She met his gaze directly.

  “So I guess it’s just a simple… Welcome to the Jūmonban. We have a task for you.”

  And then—

  CUT TO BLACK.