I'm a weak Exorcist, and the Yanderes Around Me Aren't Human

The ghost laughed too.

A real sound, broken and warm, nothing like the voice it had been using all night.

"I’m okay, Dad," she said again. Softer this time. "You can go. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m going to be okay."

A long silence.

"I love you," the ghost said.

She pressed both palms over her face and stood there. Her shoulders shook once. Twice.

Then she breathed out, long and slow, and dropped her hands.

"I love you too," she said as if she could hear him.

The dark energy was fading.

Slowly, from the outside in, the darkness thinning at the edges first, each layer lifting and dissolving. Less darkness. More person.

Sora felt the warmth begin to pull back. Each second slightly less than the one before.

Her breath caught.

"Goodbye Dad," her voice broke.

She smiled through the tears. Wide, real and completely devastated. "Come visit me sometimes, okay? I’ll leave the window open."

The darkness was almost gone.

Where it had been, a middle-aged man stood.

Office clothes, slightly rumpled, grey at his temples, eyes red and wet and open.

The anger was gone.

The dark energy was gone.

Just him, quiet and still, looking at his daughter’s face. His lips pressed together. His chin moved once. He smiled. Small and tired and completely certain.

He raised his hand.

She could not see him but she raised hers anyway, toward where she felt him last, and held it there.

He faded.

Quietly. Without any final word.

The incomplete seal on the ground dimmed slowly and returned to ordinary concrete.

Sora stood with her hand still raised. She kept it there for a moment. Then she lowered it.

She covered her face with both hands.

And broke.

Her body folded in on itself, knees giving way. The sound that came out of her wasn’t words, just something raw that had been held back too long.

She sank to the ground and stayed there, hands over her face, sobbing.

Kaito watched her.

Wanted to go and console her.

He put one hand on the concrete to push himself up.

He almost stood for a second.

His arm buckled. His legs gave out beneath him.

He tipped sideways, his shoulder dropping toward the ground.

Nothing held.

The edges of his vision blurred.

Then dark.

But he didn’t hit the floor.

Shizuka was there before he reached it, moving fast enough that she simply appeared beside him, one arm around his back and one under his arm, catching him against her.

His head fell against her shoulder.

Her silver hair curtained him.

She held him up without any effort at all.

"You were so cool, Kai~~~," she purred.

She looked down at his unconscious face.

"Made me wet."

.

.

Everything was white.

The room. The walls.

The bed beneath him.

The sheets.

The pillow under his head.

The light had no source. It was just there. Everywhere at once. Flat. Even.

No shadows.

Anywhere.

He sat up slowly.

The movement felt too loud in the stillness.

A small room.

A sink fixed to the far wall.

A door beside it with no handle.

White floor.

White ceiling.

White everything.

Nothing broke it.

Nothing interrupted it.

He swung his legs off the bed. His feet touched the floor.

Cold.

He stood.

For a moment he didn’t move.

Then he walked.

Each step felt wrong.

Not silent.

Swallowed.

He reached the sink.

The tap turned.

Water came out.

Clear. Cold. Wet.

He cupped it and splashed it to his face.

It ran down his skin. Down his chin.

Dripped.

Too loud when a few drops hit the floor.

He did it again.

Slower.

Watching the water fall against the white.

He lifted his head.

Looked at the mirror.

For a second, nothing.

Just him.

His reflection stared back.

It blinked.

Then—

Behind it.

Something stood.

A woman.

Tall.

Her full shape filled the space in a way that didn’t belong.

Wide through the hips.

Thick through the thighs.

Breasts full and heavy.

The weight of them visible even through the dark formless thing covering her.

It didn’t follow her body.

It swallowed her outline. Shifted where it shouldn’t. Moved without her moving.

Her face was turned away.

Only the line of her jaw.

The fall of her hair.

No sound.

No shadow.

She had not been there.

He knew that.

He knew it.

He spun around.

Empty.

He stood there for a moment. The room was exactly as it had been. The bed. The door with no handle. The flat white light from nowhere. Nothing out of place.

He turned back to the mirror slowly.

His own face looked back at him. Just him. The white room behind him. The bed. The empty space where she had been.

He exhaled.

He brought his hands to the sink. Water still ran from the tap.

He looked at his face.

A dark hand shot from the mirror an hit his throat.

Fingers clenched.

He was yanked up in the air.

His feet left the floor.

"Gh—"

Fog spread from the wrist. His hands clamped onto it. Hard. Smooth. It did not move.

His legs kicked.

Nothing.

The grip tightened.

The pressure built at the sides of his neck, deep and total.

"Ngh— hk—"

The light died.

White dulled.

Grey spread.

The walls lost their edges. Darkness pushed in from the corners.

His fingers slipped against the wrist. He dragged his nails against it. No give.

His vision narrowed.

Something moved at his left.

No sound.

The air shifted. Close.

His skin tightened.

The hairs on his forearm rose.

The temperature dropped half a degree.

Something was there.

It came closer.

He couldn’t turn.

The hand at his throat held him in place.

It stopped beside him.

Breath on his neck.

Hot against his skin where the air had gone cooler.

"I’m back."

Low. Right at his ear.

Lips almost touching skin.

"Darling~."