"Is that true, Lord Arata?"
Those words pulled the Ceiling Dweller out of her grief. She stared at the onmyoji before her, irrepressible hope stirring in her downcast eyes.
"Yes. Trust me."
Arata nodded gently, certainty filling his eyes as he regained his composure.
If he wanted to find the two people from her story a century later, amid the fixed course of reincarnation, there was one place—and one power—that could do it.
That place was not Takamagahara, of course. It was the Land of the Dead.
"It's been a long time, Lord Onmyoji."
Just then, a gentle greeting sounded beside Arata's ear.
He turned toward the voice and saw two small figures appear in the summoning circle, one dressed entirely in white, the other in black.
The first to greet him was Little Xiaobai, who held a Soul-Summoning Banner. Beside him, Little Kuro dragged a short, vicious-looking black sickle.
They were the Underworld Bureau's two apprentice ghost messengers: Shiro Doji and Kuro Doji.
"Lord Onmyoji, you made an agreement with the Lord of the Underworld. You've already used all three chances to call on our help. We—"
"—aren't allowed to interfere in the affairs of the living world again."
After greeting him, Little Xiaobai continued in earnest.
A faint apology showed in both his words and expression. He was unfailingly polite.
Little Kuro, quiet but sensitive, paid no attention to the onmyoji who had broken the agreement. Instead, as though sensing something, he looked around.
Jagged rocks. The shadowy mouth of a cave. A faint trace of demonic energy. Something seemed to prick his mind like a fine needle, stirring the hazy memories buried deep within it.
"So please send us back, Lord Onmyoji."
"It wouldn't be good if the Lord of the Underworld discovered you'd summoned us without