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Momo was bored out of her mind.
She crouched in a grassy field well outside of town, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers while Okarun ran through the same routine again and again: walk to a spot, sweep the area (he did look kind of cute doing that exaggerated hand-over-eyes thing), mumble something she couldn’t hear, then scribble furiously in his notebook.
Rinse. Repeat. For hours.
He’d said they were looking for aliens. Momo had been ready to kick ass, interrogate some extraterrestrials, maybe ask a few essential questions—like whether pants were necessary for beings without, well… you know.
What she hadn't signed up for was hunting invisible patterns in smushed grass for half the day.
She sighed. If she was being totally honest, this was probably her fault. She’d spent all day at school dreaming up weekend plans with Okarun—maybe hitting up Nakano again, seeing what weird stuff turned up—without ever asking what he was doing.
So she’d been blindsided when he awkwardly told her he already had plans, fiddling with his glasses as he avoided eye contact.
“What plans?” she’d blurted, ruder than she meant to be.
He’d hesitated, then explained there’d been crop circle sightings nearby. At her blank stare, he launched into a full-on lecture about their history. It might’ve been interesting… if she hadn’t been busy mourning the tragic death of her weekend.
“So you’re looking for aliens?” she’d asked at the end, narrowing her eyes a little, trying to gauge just how serious he was.
“I mean… in a way, I suppose,” he replied, adjusting his glasses nervously. “But not directly and—”
“Then I’ll come with you!”
Okarun blinked, clearly caught off guard. “I… really don’t think you’ll find this interesting, Ayase-san,” he said slowly, scratching the back of his neck. “But if you really want to, I would appreciate the company…”
“I do!” she insisted, leaning forward with a grin. “I do want to!”
And just like that, it was settled.
Hours later—still no aliens. Not even a sad little patch of flattened grass. Just endless green and the occasional breeze.
And Momo was boooored.
Though, to be fair, if aliens were that easy to find, Okarun probably would’ve bumped into a few more before the whole Serpoian incident, huh?
She let out a dramatic sigh, crouching down and resting her head in her hands, cheeks puffed out in exaggerated boredom.
From a few feet away, Okarun chuckled—a low, wry sound that only deepened her irritation.
“I did warn you,” he said, not even glancing in her direction as he scanned the field again, one hand shading his eyes.
Ugh. That sounded way too much like an "I told you so."
“You said we were gonna be looking for aliens!” she shot back, sitting up with a half-hearted glare.
“I said I was going to be looking for signs of aliens,” he replied evenly. “As I explained. In great detail.”
She groaned and flopped sideways onto the grass. Yeah yeah… she thought with a grimace.
She curled her arms around her knees and mumbled into them, “I might’ve zoned out for that part…”
There was a beat of silence, then Okarun’s voice softened. “I’m really glad you’re taking an interest in the occult with me, Ayase-san.”
She peeked up at him, a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone.
“But I understand some of these more... boring activities might not be to your liking,” he added with a small, apologetic smile. “I appreciate you coming, but you don’t have to stay and be miserable on my account.”
She tilted her head, eyeing him. “I think, with everything that’s happened, it’s just weird not to be in, like… mortal peril,” she said. “I feel like I’m waiting for something to explode.”
Okarun gave a thoughtful hum, eyes still scanning the open field. “Ah, I can understand that. But it’s nice to have some quiet, though, isn’t it?”
She hesitated, frowning at the sky. Nice wasn’t exactly the word she’d use.
She was… antsy. Like something was about to happen, and it was taking its sweet time. And she would really rather get there before it.
She shifted her weight, her sneakers sinking slightly into the soft earth as her fingers twitched at her sides. The stillness was starting to itch beneath her skin. She glanced at Okarun again, watching the way his eyes moved steadily across the horizon. No urgency. No frustration. Just quiet, patient focus—like he was tuning in to something only he could hear.
It made her pause. Just for a moment. Long enough to wonder what exactly was going through that head of his.
“It might seem kind of silly, doing this after everything we’ve seen,” Okarun said suddenly, his voice low, thoughtful—like he’d been turning the words over for a while. His eyes stayed on the empty field. “But now that I know aliens are real… it makes the world feel bigger, you know? Like anything might be possible. Like maybe pyramids really were ancient transportation hubs. Or crop circles—maybe they’re not just patterns, but actual messages. Maybe someone out there really has been trying to say something.”
He trailed off, then rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry. Like I said. It’s probably stupid.”
Momo shook her head. “It’s not stupid,” she said softly.
He glanced down, still fidgeting with his collar, his eyes darting away from hers.
She’d always believed in spirits. Sure, it used to be abstract, but then her powers awakened, and she saw Turbo Granny. She’d touched the other side. Everything her Gran had ever said suddenly made sense. It was real. It always was. And Gran had been thrilled to finally share it all with her once more.
Okarun had his own version of that. His “awakening” came with aliens. And as rough as that first encounter had been, it probably changed everything for him.
But unlike her, he didn’t have anyone to guide him through it. No one waiting with stories and wisdom and history.
Maybe she could be that someone. Maybe she could stand beside him while they figured it all out together.
“Okay!” she declared suddenly, slapping her knees with a loud clap.
“Eh?” Okarun cried out, startled.
She stood with a stretch and a dramatic groan, then spun to face him, grinning ear to ear. Her hands shot up in a confident thumbs-up.
“So! What are we looking for?”
It turned out that what they were looking for was… flattened patches of grass.
And the method?
Literally just wandering around, staring at the ground.
“Sorry,” Okarun said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I know it’s not the most efficient way. Ideally, we’d use a drone for aerial photos, but, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck and trailed off.
Yeah. They both knew the “but.” No budget. No drone.
She squinted down at a vaguely trampled area, tilting her head. Was that a suspiciously flat patch of grass? Or just the spot where she'd been sulking earlier?
“Neh,” she muttered, rising to her feet and brushing her hands on her shorts. “Couldn’t you just ask Mr. Mantis Shrimp about this kinda stuff?”
Okarun stopped scanning and turned toward her. The look on his face was so intense, it caught her off guard. It was… familiar. The same expression he’d worn that time she made fun of him for believing in aliens—what felt like a lifetime ago.
“I did,” he said, adjusting his glasses like a man steeling for battle. “I did ask him, Ayase-san. And do you know what he said?”
She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden fire in his voice. “What?”
Okarun flung his arms out in disbelief, voice pitching upwards.
“He said, ‘Why on Earth would anyone do that?! No alien in their right mind would waste time making crop circles!’ And then—then he made me do farm work. Again!”
“What a jerk!” she laughed.
“He used me for free labor!” Okarun cried. “I’m trying to advance human knowledge, and I end up baling hay!”
“I can’t believe it,” she said, grinning despite herself. “But hey, maybe it was good for you. Still trying to get swole, right?”
“Stop teasing me about that,” he grumbled, rolling his shoulder with a wince. “I still can’t even lift my arms right.”
“That jerk! His blood is literally milk and he thinks crop circles are far-fetched?!”
She threw her hands in the air, stunned by the hypocrisy. She waited for Okarun to explode with more righteous fury.
Instead, he just… sagged.
“Actually, Ayase-san,” he muttered, head hanging despondently “I asked him a bunch of questions about that too. Took everything I could gather and submitted it to Mystery Mu…”
Her eyes lit up. “Yeah? And?”
“And they thought it was a joke!” he wailed, throwing his head back and gripping his hair in despair. “They said my theory was absurd! That if I was going to send in hoaxes, I could at least use a more believable fake name!”
She snorted. “Well, I mean… ‘Okarun’ is kind of out there.”
He whipped around with a look of pure betrayal. “I didn’t use Okarun! I used my real name! Ken Takaka—”
Before the rest of it escaped, a glowing spectral hand clamped over his mouth.
“I told you not to say that name,” She said, her eyes narrowing like a threat.
Okarun gave a long, dramatic nod, muffled under the ghostly grip. She released him with a flick—but not before catching what might’ve been an eye roll.
As the tension dissolved, she thought back, replaying what he’d just said.
He’d written up a totally true, documented account of their insane experience. Sent it in under his actual name. With evidence.
And they’d laughed him off.
She didn’t mean to—she really didn’t—but a giggle escaped.
Then another. And then she was doubled over, laughing.
“Don’t laugh!” Okarun practically roared, hands clenched at his sides. “This is a serious matter—it calls into question the journalistic integrity of the entire publication! If they won’t print evidence-backed findings, what else are they dismissing? What vital truths are we losing?!”
She gawked at him, caught off guard by the sudden fire in his voice. She hadn’t seen this level of fervor since their very first shouting match. It was… weirdly nostalgic.
“Yeah!” she cried, throwing a fist into the air. “They’re keeping the good stuff from us!”
Okarun nodded furiously, eyes wide.
“Or worse!” he exclaimed, jabbing a finger skyward. “What if it’s being repressed—part of a larger conspiracy?!”
She gasped, slapping both hands over her mouth. “They’ve been taken over by The Man, Okarun!”
Okarun’s eyes blazed with conviction as he stepped forward, wind dramatically catching absolutely nothing. “The people deserve to know the truth, Ayase-san!”
“They do!” she shouted, arms flung wide in mock-defiance. “Screw Mystery Mu! We’ll start our own journal! With blackjack! And actual facts!”
“We will!” Okarun echoed, mirroring her pose.
She pointed at him decisively. “We’ll show everyone what real journalism looks like!”
“Yeah!” he shouted, nodding so hard his glasses nearly slipped off his nose.
“We’ll make them regret ever calling you crazy, Okarun!”
He opened his mouth to cheer—then hesitated mid-syllable. “Yea—wait, hang on! They didn’t call me crazy, Ayase-san…”
Her eyes lit up with faux vengeance. “By going to their headquarters and burning it down!”
Okarun flinched like she’d just thrown a match. “Hang on!” he said, voice cracking slightly as he took a step back, hands raised. “You aren’t serious about that part… are you, Ayase-san?”
“Screw Mystery Mu!” she shouted again, ghost hands flaring above her like spiritual napalm, her grin growing feral.
He swallowed. “You’re definitely joking, right? I only ask because you did burn down Jiji’s house and—”
That was it. Momo completely lost it, collapsing into the grass in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, arms wrapped around her middle.
Okarun exhaled a long, ragged breath of relief, adjusting his glasses as he lowered himself to sit beside her.
“…I thought you were serious for a second.”
After they’d finally calmed down—both sprawled in the grass, staring up at the open blue sky—Momo let her gaze follow a bird lazily gliding overhead.
Then a thought hit her.
“Hey…” she murmured, glancing sideways at Okarun. “You said this would be way faster if you had a drone or something, right?”
He hummed, still half-lost in thought. “Yeah? I mean, it would be much easier if we could get a view from above, but drones are expensive, and—”
Momo lifted a hand toward the sky, then let a ghost hand drift lazily past it like a spectral balloon. “What if... you were up there?”
Okarun turned his head toward her, suspicious. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”
She jumped to her feet, pumping her fists. “Come on! I toss you up, you get a bird’s-eye view, and bam—crop circle located in no time!”
He sat up with a jolt. “And then I die on impact!”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d catch you, obviously.”
“And if you miss?” he asked, voice high-pitched with alarm.
“Oh please,” she snorted, brushing imaginary dust off her legs. “I don’t remember you having any of these concerns when you were the one launching me through the air.”
“That was a life-or-death situation!” he sputtered, hands flailing. “And besides… it felt more reasonable when I was, you know… the other me.”
She shrugged. “Then transform. Problem solved.”
He hesitated, visibly weighing the idea. “…That would make falling from a great height a lot less horrifying…”
Hehe. She had him. Just a little more…
She planted her hands on her hips, nodding firmly. “Exactly. You’ve already done it before, right?”
He stood slowly, brushing grass off his pants. “No! Your grandmother told me I should be careful with Turbo Granny’s powers!”
Momo leaned in, grinning like the devil. “Granny ain’t here.”
He squinted at her.
“You wanna find that crop circle, don’t ya?”
“I do…” he admitted, shifting his weight awkwardly, adjusting his glasses with a huff.
“Right?” she nudged, watching his resistance crumble. “And if you’re up there…
She trailed off, her grin widening as he suddenly hopped on one foot, tugging off his shoes and socks in a flurry of movement.
Didn’t take much convincing after all, huh?
They were gonna find this thing in no time.
As soon as Okarun had kicked off his shoes, rolled up his pant legs, and neatly arranged his socks and backpack into a tidy little pile, Momo found herself staring at an oddly excited yokai. He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, shifting his weight from side to side with barely-contained energy.
“Alright, Momo-chan,” he said, grinning. “Let’s do this.”
Yep—felt reasonable indeed, she thought.
Now, how was she going to do this? She could grab his aura without a problem—that part was easy. But getting him high enough to see the whole field? Just tossing him upward wouldn't really cut it.
They were going to need a little more… oomph.
She squinted up at the sky, then down at Okarun again. He probably didn’t get dizzy in this form. Probably. She was like… 70% sure.
With a decisive nod, she reached out with two glowing spectral hands and clamped them gently—but firmly—around his midsection.
“You ready?” she asked, locking eyes with him.
Okarun blinked once, then manifested his yokai mask with a swirls of energy and gave her a thumbs up.
She assumed that was for aerodynamics, rather than protection. Not that he’d need it. She was going to catch him. Obviously.
“Alright!” she said, stepping back and bracing herself, her spectral hands tightening around him like a harness.
She hoisted him up—and spun.
Around and around, at full psychic arm’s length, building momentum like she was winding up for some supernatural hammer throw.
As the world spun faster and faster around her, the rush of wind filled her ears—until a strained voice slipped through the noise:
“Momo-chan, maybe this isn’t such a good—”
Too late.
With a final twist and a shout, she hurled him skyward, flinging every ounce of built-up energy into the launch.
Okarun rocketed into the air, his cry trailing behind him as he climbed higher and higher, his masked form shrinking fast against the blue.
Yeah… the mask probably helped, she thought, watching how cleanly he sliced through the sky.
Soon he was barely visible, just a flicker above the horizon, so she zeroed in on his aura instead. That cursed energy blazed like a flare: bright, red, easy to track.
But then... she saw something else.
Off in the distance, just beyond the treeline, a cluster of auras shimmered into view. She stared, transfixed, brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The auras weren’t human. That much was clear. But they didn’t feel dangerous. Just… weird.
A voice broke through her focus from above.
“Momo-chan!” Okarun’s excited shout carried down. It was quickly followed by a louder, more panicked, “Momo-chan!?”
Her eyes snapped upward just in time to see him falling. Fast.
“Crap!”
She lunged into action, shoving her hands forward and flaring her powers. A spectral shield came into being midair, but it came together in a rush. Sloppy. It caught him, kind of, slowed him a bit, but not enough. He hit the barrier, bounced off, and thudded into the grass on all fours.
She winced. “Oof.”
But Okarun didn’t cry out. Didn’t groan. Just blinked, shook his head a little, and stood up like nothing had happened. His mask faded with a shimmer. Dirt clung to his pants. His grin was already stretching across his face, wide and wild.
“Momo-chan! There’s a circle over—”
“Okarun, I can see auras over there—”
They both stopped. Blinking. Each one pointing in the exact same direction.
Okarun’s grin somehow grew even wider.
He crouched like a runner about to launch, mask forming once more.
“Wait, what are you—”
She didn’t finish. He shot off like a bullet, kicking up dirt behind him.
“Okarun! Wait for me!” she shouted, bolting after him.
Ahead, a puff of dirt exploded where he skidded to a stop. Before she could blink, there was a flash of red.
Then she was airborne.
He’d scooped her up mid-run, lifting her onto his back with barely a hitch in his stride. Her arms wrapped instinctively around his shoulders as his locked in behind her, holding her steady.
They surged forward together, racing toward the strange auras flickering on the horizon.
Well.
There was a circle in the grass. Actually, several. And yes, there were definitely a few non-human auras lingering in the area.
It was just—
Well.
She bit her lip, trying to choke back the laughter rising in her throat. Pressed against Okarun’s back, she was painfully aware he could probably feel every tiny tremble as they stared ahead at the spectacle unfolding before them.
A group of tanuki were frolicking in the clearing.
And by frolicking, she meant inflating their frankly ridiculous testicles into grotesque, beach-ball-sized monstrosities they bounced on like yokai circus balls.
It was… not okay.
She glanced sideways at Okarun. His shoulders were stiff. His silence, deafening.
Was this extra traumatic, given his… situation? It sure felt like these tanuki were rubbing it in—literally bouncing the fact that they had both their balls right in his face.
At least they’d recovered one of his. Progress, right?
As she pondered the sad math of Okarun’s testicular misfortunes, she realized he still hadn’t said a word. Just sat there, hunched forward, staring at the tanuki like he was watching his faith in the universe quietly dissolve.
“…I wanna go home,” he muttered.
And just like that, he turned and started walking—head low, steps slow and heavy. It had all the drama of a tragic, defeated shuffle… except, thanks to Turbo Granny’s powers, it was technically more of a fast jog. Momo jostled against his back, practically horizontal.
“Eh? We’re leaving? Just like that?” she asked, lifting her head and squinting in disbelief at the back of his head. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by his sudden surrender or just how genuinely bummed he sounded.
“Like I said, Momo-chan,” he sighed. “I wanna go home.”
His voice was flat, stripped of all hope. Maybe even more than usual. Which, honestly, was saying something. She actually felt bad for laughing now. Especially after that impassioned monologue earlier. He’d looked so hopeful when he spotted the circle.
This must’ve hit him hard.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she said, her voice soft. “There’s always next time, right? It can’t all be stupid raccoons out here. We’ll find real alien communication eventually. Promise.”
“…We?”
“Duh, we. You think I’m letting you hog the glory for discovering a new alien species? Besides, someone’s gotta launch you into the sky.”
That earned a faint huff of breath. His mask clicked open, then closed again.
“And anyway,” she added, brightening, “I was gonna invite you over for dinner. Let’s head back to my place. Play some video games. Recharge your cosmic energy or whatever.”
He slowed just enough to glance back at her. His mask peeled away with its usual awful krik-krak. Beneath it, a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.
“…Thanks, Momo-chan,” he said. “You really know how to cheer a guy up.”
She grinned. “Don’t mention it—”
But he cut her off, voice suddenly light and sharp. “Let’s get outta here, yo.”
And just like that, he was off—blasting from a dead stop to full speed, the grass blurring into streaks of green beneath them.
She yelped, clutching tighter around his neck, even though he still had her held securely. Her hair whipped behind her like a streamer, the wind roaring in her ears.
“Wait—hang on—we left our stu—!”
But the wind swallowed the rest, ripping the words from her mouth as they blurred across the field.
He didn’t even slow down.