Web of light. Part 1-7

"Yuto-kun from the end of the street? Yes, I feel sorry for the guy, they say, his distant relatives are watching him, but the girl around him is his younger cousin. I must have looked for a groom, in advance, hee-hee. No, he's not so gloomy, he's calmed down and got over it. Oh, what a worry, on the contrary, I'm glad that you're "our" inspector! Come back again!"

After walking the entire street like that, Ishiro braked in front of Yuta Amakawa's house. It's empty, there's no light in the windows. The lawn seems to be tidy, the windows are not dusty, you can immediately see that people live there. He reached for the call button, pulled his hand back. By God, if they had met a child on the street, he would have... violated the order. I would have asked, maybe I could have helped, nothing more. There wasn't a single glimmer of magic in the house, it was completely empty. They say there are ways to seal a gift securely. What happens if he suddenly wakes up? Although what is one untrained kid worth? "I hope Amakawa's creepy fame will pass you by, kid. It's often better to remain an ordinary person, believe me," the man thought and moved towards the intersection. After all, the authorities and the city have only him, how many more quiet, slightly sleepy streets are waiting for him ahead? Naturally, he did not feel any glances from the second floor, from the narrow gap between the frame and the curtain...

Interlude 2. Fourth year student of Kues Jinguji. England, Hogwarts... Ugh, the British Magic School (aka the British Magic Academy)

"Hey, hello, you nasty Slytherin!" Kues-tyn, like a comet, aided by her long black unrestrained hair, swept through the laboratory, flew across the bench with just a flutter of her robe, and finished at a massive worktable, slamming her ass against the hard seat. Neither the countertop nor the bench reacted to the provocation in any way: being made of solid oak, supported by simple wooden legs, the furniture seemed to be able to serve as the roof of an air raid shelter, it was so solid and heavy. For example, the "princess" Jinguji's palm and fingers would not be long enough to grasp the tabletop by the edge.

"If I'm a Slytherin, the guy waved off wearily, but somehow maliciously, then you're Luna Lovegood!"

"You're Lovegood! And I am beautiful and amazing..."

"...Myrtle the crybaby..."

"That's it. Wha-at?! Like a snake, it's not for nothing that your last name is Malfoy!"

"Malcolm! My last name is Malcolm, write it down somewhere..." The boy's eyes searched the figure of his neighbor and stopped in the chest area, "uh, on the forehead."

"Well, yes, you're lying! Platinum blonde hair? Respond. A pretty face? Also a checkmark. The ability to make a face like you're trying to remember if you swallowed your morning slug for breakfast... Yes, that's right, even the color is aristocratic green!

"Kues, stop it!"

"And now I'll say this: ho-o-o-one-e-e-e-y!"

"That's it, I'll settle for a slug!!! Just don't make me hear it for the three hundred and ninety-first time every day!"

"You're also counting?! How lovely! Just wait, we have only three hundred and sixty-one girls in our school, on all streams..."

"Another twenty-nine times is Anna."

"Cami. I sympathize with you, my friend, be strong. I've heard an ancient legend that once upon a time, a brave knight with a pure soul was able to leave Anna-senpai's chambers in one piece..."

"Don't poison your soul!"

"..For his verses were so terrible that only his armor with a gauntleted helmet saved him from the punishing vase... night time."

"Kha. And this is an idea!"

"A night vase?!"

"The armor! With a blind helmet and a visor with a lock from the inside! We have just such things at home, we just need to pick up the one that is not the most rusty..."

The guy and the girl exchanged glances and laughed, imagining this scene. Then Kues finally got up from the bench and began preparing the experienced tools, Malcolm took over the ingredients. While everything was set up, obviously not for the first time, the occasionally giggling children calmed down and, while waiting for the Doctor of Philosophy in Metaphysics, Trelloni O'Reilly, a pure-blooded red Irishman, they started fighting again.

"Aren't the radishes in your ears too tight?"

"Radishes are not for me. But I can't figure out how the filmmakers overlooked you. You're perfect for the role of the mysterious jerk."

"Entertain the plebeians and peasants?" Malcolm stuck out his lip ostentatiously. "Not really. And who's going to let me in? I'm an a-ris-toc-rat!"

"Well, well, don't frown! I've heard that outside the walls our fun college is now only called Hogwarts."

"Don't take that name in vain! They say our Magister [the rector here] has vowed to kick out of the Academy anyone who mentions this word close enough to his ears for him to hear it."

"Yeah, they say that at the board of trustees meeting, some wisecracker from the Americans managed to ask him if he really flies on a broom on business."

"So what?"

"And nothing. The table was replaced, they apologized, and the stuttering itself went away on the third day. The American, I'm asking."

"Wow! How is this so?"

"Lightning. I wouldn't have held back either."

"Yeah. Do you remember how mcDougan, the teacher of artefactorics, screamed that Rowling's wand was missing in one place when she was scribbling? "Any object, playing the role of a mediator, takes away, takes away, your mother, energy and dissipates the direction of the spell...""

"I remember-remember..."

The young people fell silent, recalling that lesson, which was amazing in terms of the number of obscene expressions (many students also wrote down unfamiliar words in order to clarify them later with their English classmates). But soon Malcolm stirred and, glancing at the door (the teacher is late again!), turned back to the witch.

"You know, Kues, I never would have thought that I would be able to communicate with a girl like a friend. It's good that you're like this... Er..... normal!"

"It's just that these fools, our girls, didn't come here to study, but to look for a husband. Cows! If only they could think with their brains, since nothing else has grown," the girl shook her chest. Then she gave Malcolm a sly sideways glance and continued, "Maybe I'd fall for you too, but I already have a fiance. No worse than you!"

"Ha!"

"So much for ha! We even kissed!"

"Ah... Damn it! Really? And how?"

"How's that? Well, uh. Nice. Very much," the "princess" was rapidly blushing. "And don't you dare ask me for such embarrassing details, you damn Slytherin!!"

"Minus ten points from Gryffindor!" Dr. O'Reilly stormed through the lab door and plopped down in a creaking chair. "For shouting in the office, Miss Lovegood."

[in two voices] "Teacher! And you go there too!!!"

Interlude 3. The boundary of the city park from the mountain reserve. The Corpse Eater and the River Goddess Mizuchi

"Three more people were killed today." Mizuchi looked past her boss friend. A little girl riding on a fir branch. So fragile and defenseless... if you don't know how to see the aura of mighty power around her body.

"They say that Yokai's physical body reflects our inner age or our strongest experience," the River Snake's interlocutor thought, "and the second is definitely true."

"And he asked aloud:"

"Hunters or showdowns?"

"A showdown, you know."

The man rubbed his forehead painfully. These literally suicidal fights of the younger spirits unsettled him. It is clear that most spirits are not born into families where the union of parents, if the spirits manage to create sufficiently perfect bodies for themselves, already intelligent and extremely strong Yokai are obtained. Like the Goddess of Rivers, for example. But most rise from the animal kingdom, born from places of natural concentration of power or human emotions. Crushing and killing crowds of the same little ones, they slowly reach the level of self-awareness. And when they realize it, they reach out to human settlements to look and learn, it happens instinctively. So what? There are a thousand ways to get energy, absorb, generate, steal or give birth. And intelligent spirits, it is worth turning away a little, they bite with all their teeth, jaws and limbs, trying to tear and eat their neighbor. Or even just tear it up, without purpose or meaning.

Yokai remembered how he realized himself on the battlefield, among hundreds and hundreds of corpses of Japanese and American soldiers. How, at first, with an appetite, and then with more and more horror, he watched the work of his own jaws. The residual energy of death overwhelmed him, but one thought, the thought that he was destroying the last memory of sentients, made him step away from the most luxurious table in his life. A lot has happened since then: Japan collapsed, captured by the enemy, and rose from the ashes like a jasperwing phoenix. People got out of poverty and even began to give others the opportunity to gain some of their knowledge. He straightened his tie, and there was not a single spot on his perfectly white shirt. He learned to read and write, and he read many books in many libraries. He saw how the total war between the spirits who had gone mad from the explosions and the horrors of the war and the spirits who had lost their minds from permissiveness with the exorcists was gradually coming to naught. Twenty years ago, he came to this slope and sat down next to a mountain stream. For nineteen years, there was no one who would challenge his authority. Eighteen years ago, he began to teach everyone who wanted to Yokai his knowledge, acquired some by accident, some at the risk of his life, and some through painful thought and countless attempts to find a grain in a pile of garbage. And what did he achieve? Two, there are only two of them, whom he can call his like-minded spirit, perhaps friends. Hawk-nosed, who prefers to be called by his nickname, and does not like the human form, and Mizuchi, who hates exorcists, is only slightly weaker than she values her life. No, there were also about thirty different spirits, usually ten times weaker than each of the three, who considered the Devourer to be a mentor, someone to be a senior associate, and someone to be just a senior nakama. How slowly they progress... And will any of them be able to understand him?

"The situation in the city is getting worse, you know," the snake continued to report, making sure that her "boss" had returned his thoughts from the clouds to the ground again. "We barely managed to intercept two more madmen from the mountains coming to prey on human flesh. We were incredibly lucky when someone was able to finish off the caterpillar Tayata. You know. The hunters raided the city and the urban part of the park cleanly, we managed and were able to take shelter. One more breakthrough with the murders, and they'll take us seriously, no matter what maneuvers, you know. And most of your "students" are just sluggish meat, no matter what you think of them. You know."

"Cami! We would like to establish contact with the Social Committee or the police..."

"..And they'll kill you right there, you know! An intelligent Yokai trying to get in touch is too suspicious even for Jinguji!"

"But all we can do is just patrol our border!"

"And that's the only reason they don't touch us. They think, you know, that we are defending ourselves from competitors."

"But this can't go on forever — let's let someone through. And then what?"

"And then we'll drop everything we've created here and go on the run, you know. Or die. Killing exorcists for protection will definitely not be allowed. You know."

* * *

This is the situation that has developed "on the fronts" at the moment, shortly after Christmas 2007, in a medium-sized Japanese city and in a seemingly private but highly respected school of magic. Of course, Yuto didn't know any of this. But after making sure on the map that the bearer of magic had moved beyond the perimeter of the scanning seals, and after waiting another half hour to be sure, he called one of the neighbors to borrow soy sauce and at the same time unobtrusively asked about the visitor. Having thus learned about the frequency of "surveillance" of himself, Yuto, using a trophy sauce, very skillfully cooked himself a pack of store-bought dumplings, simultaneously wondering what the Social Inspection wanted from him. Having come to the conclusion that he was most likely being celebrated for a "tick" (of course, with such a frequency), the future head of Amakawa wondered if he himself, in that case, should go out to social workers... Not now, but when he's ready. Just catch the inspector and ask him to tell you "about everything." And listen to how much they lie.

Entry seventy-one.

Wow, how flattened I am. Nervous release after stress — as soon as I went down to the basement, and here it is — a rollback from a few hours spent in tension. My hands were shaking in the most natural way, and my head felt like cotton wool. Only a few times I had to experience all the "delights" of such a state "there". I'd like some cognac now... or vodka. But they won't sell alcohol to a child, even in a supermarket. A teenager of about fourteen would be sold — his relatives may well send him to the store for "adult" purchases, but the child is not. I don't know how "out there" in Japan is with this, but here everything is strict... Damn, I found something to think about.

Usually my reaction to stress is a long reflection, for several hours I just lose touch with reality, replaying past events in my head, making sure that everything has passed and there will be no continuation — right now... The problem was that now I couldn't afford to blow my nose, figuratively speaking. I chose my path, the path of conscious rejection of a quiet, peaceful life... for five years. I chose it because at the beginning of the "problematic" 2012, I don't want to be cannon fodder, maybe a little more elite than the "low-level" fighters of Jinguja and other clans. But even the Kues were allowed to be used for meat.

In the probable future described in the manga, the young mega-witch was still waiting for a not very quick, but painful death. A ridiculous, stupid death. And therefore very plausible.

It's just that no one taught the future head of Jinguja how to fight. There was undoubtedly a collision experience, but the opponents were apparently so much lower in class that the girl didn't even have any problems.

Irritation. It was the death of Kues in the manga that made me very angry back then, and now, mentally turning over the pages of the still-future story in my memory, I felt the same feeling, only even stronger. And it wasn't that I was attracted to that painted girl. She was no prettier than the beautiful Himari, who was much more useful. And none of the girls, who for me remained, to be honest, for the most part, just flat black-and-white pictures, even slightly forgotten, can compare with Rinko, alive and real. Something else annoyed me.