Then Akitsu ordered the dogs to attack Jinta. The three dogs lunged at him, but Jinta cut off the head of the first one, which impressed Akitsu. He then summoned another dog to push Jinta further. When the dogs attacked all at once, Jinta repelled them with strikes from his sword. However, they reappeared, and Jinta was surprised there seemed to be no end to them.
He used his special power of invisibility. Though he kept killing the dogs repeatedly, they reappeared each time, recognizing him through their strong sense of smell. Eventually, Jinta revealed himself and launched a quick attack on Akitsu, striking and pushing him back. When Akitsu tried to stand up, Jinta pointed his sword at his head and split him in half—but nothing happened, as it was just a mirage. Though Jinta had made a solid attempt, he had failed. Akitsu vanished, and the dogs restrained Jinta with their teeth and knocked him down.
Akitsu praised his dogs, said goodbye, and tried to leave. But Jinta transformed again, surprising Akitsu. Jinta realized the souls of Akitsu’s dogs were like superior demons and stole them, turning them against Akitsu. The dogs surrounded him, preventing his escape.
As Jinta approached, Akitsu pleaded for mercy. Jinta asked why he should spare him and demanded answers, threatening to erase his memories if he refused. Akitsu agreed to speak, although he claimed he could defend himself. Jinta emphasized that Akitsu had too many tricks, but Akitsu was surprised since Jinta hadn’t even shown his true power yet. He asked Jinta to remove the dogs, fearing them. Jinta complied, which made Akitsu laugh, thinking him naive—but Jinta trusted his words.
Akitsu claimed others had lied, but he hadn’t. He asked for his dogs back and promised not to run. Picking them up, he said he wouldn’t tire them out again. When Jinta asked about this, Akitsu explained that the figures were just papier-mâché, infused with emotions. Emotions, especially negative ones, could become demons, so it wasn’t strange for objects to come to life. This was known as Sukum Magogami. He described himself as a spiritual medium controlling magical creatures—but with Sukumami instead.
Jinta thought Akitsu came from an exorcist family, but Akitsu denied it. Famous exorcists like Nagumo of the cursed sword and Kokami of the Magatama inherited their techniques by blood, but Akitsu followed a school-based method. Originally, Sumiguro Akitsu was a skilled craftsman, and everything he created developed its own spirit—not metaphorically, but literally. Eventually, he invented a technique to turn these into Tsuko Moami, controllable beings. After Sumiguro’s death, his teachings passed to his students, and Akitsu became the third successor. The name Tsuko Moami was known more for the craftsmanship than spirit use.
When Jinta asked about his name and the kanzashi he gave Natsu, Akitsu recalled that he had given it to someone rather than sold it. This didn’t matter to Jinta—he wanted to know why Natsu had changed upon wearing it and what the story behind it was. To Akitsu, it was just an ordinary hairpin. But then he remembered something and told Jinta he could help solve her problem—if Jinta moved his sword away. Though doubtful, Jinta agreed, thinking he had no choice but to believe him, whether Akitsu was lying or not. He lowered his sword and went to Natsu.
When Natsu saw him, she went to him and greeted him, saying she had been waiting because he asked her to. He apologized for being late, but Natsu said she always knew he would return to her in the end. Then Jinta asked her to go out, and they wandered around the village at night.
Jinta stopped at the snowy willow trees whose flowers bloom in spring like snow. Natsu marveled at how he knew everything and called him her dear brother. But Jinta didn’t like the term—it made him feel weak and exposed, which he hated. He told her he had wanted to protect “him,” but failed. The promise he made on that rainy night was broken easily, and he had failed to be her loving brother until the end. He said he was no longer Jinta, and when it came to her and Suzune, he wasn’t just an older brother.
But Natsu objected. She let go of his hands and asked why a bird needed a reason to sleep near a flower, saying the same applied to siblings. No matter the circumstances, their bond couldn’t be broken. After many moons, she had finally found her way back to him, and she had no doubt he would also find a path that brings him happiness. Life was a long journey to find where one’s feelings belong. Though Jinta didn’t believe he could find that place, Natsu assured him that was the very purpose of life. He wasn’t convinced but thanked her for listening to his complaint. Then he approached her to return her to her other half, which made Natsu marvel and cry.
Jinta remembered Akitsu had told him to give Natsu the kogai so she would return to her nature. She took the kogai from him and placed it with the kanzashi, which caused a bird to appear and fly away. Then Natsu lost consciousness. Akitsu appeared and congratulated Jinta, telling him it had worked perfectly.
By the river, Akitsu explained the word “kogai”—a kanji that means “scratcher.” It’s a hair tool used to style and scratch the head without ruining the hairstyle, traditionally used by ladies and boys, while men kept it next to their swords. It was symbolic, like an older brother to a younger sister. All these kai were made by Sumiguro, and since Jinta had the sister piece to this pin, Akitsu guessed that was why Natsu called him “dear brother.” But Jinta realized the kanzashi carried lingering emotions from its previous owner and thought Natsu had been overtaken by those feelings, making her seek a dear brother. Akitsu laughed, saying it sounded like something from a play. It seemed those two pieces were created as a pair.
Akitsu noticed wisteria leaves falling, signaling the arrival of a bell’s call. He quoted a poem from the Man’yōshū, saying Sumiguro was quite the joker. Jinta recalled Natsu’s words—that the bell hairpins were always searching for wisteria flowers—and realized strange things really do happen in life.
But to Akitsu, the important thing was that the bell had returned to its brother and all ended well. When Jinta asked where the bell flew, Akitsu oddly answered, “Over there,” which surprised Jinta. Then Akitsu explained: it flew toward the distant heavens beyond the seas, where the feelings of home call it. The only way to know its location would be to ask the bell itself. But in any case, feelings always return to where they belong—and that’s what Akitsu believed. Jinta hoped that was true.
As Akitsu prepared to leave, Jinta stopped him, saying he should ask permission and even threatened him, reminding him that he was a demon in a human body. But Akitsu didn’t care. He said Jinta was a loyal friend, not a danger to anyone, and that he was just a craftsman. He only kills demons when asked and only fights those who threaten him—he doesn’t harm demons that do no wrong.
Before leaving, he told Jinta that in the end, they are all demons—so they all fall under the kind Jinta hunts. No matter how kind or loyal, or how close to humans they are, that truth doesn’t change. Jinta understood this. Akitsu was pleased and bid him farewell.
The next day, at the Sedana restaurant, Zenji was happy that Natsu had returned to her true self—but wondered why she seemed sad. Ofuu understood: Natsu still had clear memories of what had happened. Zenji teased her, mimicking her spoiled speech, which embarrassed her and made her angry. Then Sadonna offered Natsu a drink on the house, which cheered her up, and she thanked him.
However, she asked Sadonna about Jinta, who hadn’t shown up that day. Sadonna asked if she was ready to transform again in an instant, but Natsu said she was content just being a little bird for now—and wondered how she would face it all from now on.
We then move to Jinta, who encounters Yutaka during the day—a surprise, since she typically isn’t active at that hour. He was taken aback that she was out looking for men at such a time. Yutaka tried to express concern for him, but Jinta, true to form, responded rudely.
Still, Yutaka invited him to chat about a rumor that had been going around, thinking a bit of gossip might lighten his mood or distract him. As they talked, Jinta suddenly heard the sound of a bell ringing from somewhere nearby. He asked Yutaka if she could hear it too. She said she had actually heard the same bell earlier in the morning—it had disturbed her sleep and continued to ring loudly, which is why she was now outside. Even now, she said, it was screaming nearby.
Yutaka thought it could be a demon’s doing, but Jinta disagreed. He said it wasn’t a demon—it was simply a bell that had found its way through the night and come to rest beside a flower.
Then, in 2009, the scene shifts to the Atsukimi Institute, where Maka was cleaning with her mother. Maka wasn’t happy—she felt shy and embarrassed that her friend might see her doing chores. Her mother gently reminded her that this was their duty as women born in this temple lineage. She shared that she had been given two sacred responsibilities: one was to add a kanji to her daughter’s name, and the other was to preserve the Ekum lineage from extinction.
Maka’s grandmother had strictly emphasized the importance of passing down these traditions, no matter how difficult life became. They must be passed on, because they were rooted in the heart—their purpose was to preserve hope. That’s why all the women in their family bore the syllable “Yah” in their names. Though the original feelings and intent behind the traditions may have faded, they still had a place to return to. Now, it was Maka’s turn to be clear about her own feelings.
Then, her mother left to prepare dinner.
Soon after, a man approached Maka and asked if this was the Ekum Temple. Maka replied yes, but explained that they now called it Atsukimi, although she didn’t know why. She mentioned that the rule about the name came from the Jinta Temple.
The man then asked her to repeat the temple’s name. She replied that it was called Genta, which caused the man to burst into tears, surprising Maka. He turned and left. Maka, watching him go, called after him, asking if he had a question—but she realized she had already answered it. She had said exactly what he needed to hear.
Later, Maka returned to school and felt joy being with her friend. But she would see that same man again, the one who had come to her at the temple—his presence lingering like an unanswered prayer.
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