It had been several months since Harry and his father had first visited Yagyō-san in the heart of the Gegege Forest. Every day, Harry worked diligently under Yagyō-san's tutelage, studying the unfamiliar shapes and sounds of the Japanese language. The books that lined the shelves of Yagyō-san's tree-like home became Harry's constant companions, filled with kanji and words that once seemed impossible to comprehend. But to his own surprise, Harry could read many of them now. His pronunciation, though far from perfect, was improving.
One afternoon, Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, reading aloud from a simple children's book written in Japanese. His small voice echoed softly in Yagyō-san's house, stumbling here and there, but it was clear that his confidence was growing.
"… a… arigato," Harry read, his tongue tripping slightly over the word.
Yagyō-san, who was sitting nearby with his ever-present calm demeanor, nodded approvingly. "Excellent, Harry. Your reading has improved greatly."
Harry grinned, feeling a surge of pride. Speaking Japanese still felt strange on his tongue, but he understood so much more now than when he first began. He glanced over at his father, who was seated over a small wooden table, watching with a proud smile.
James had marveled at how quickly Harry had picked up the basics of the language, especially for someone so young.
"Your pronunciation is still a bit heavy," Yagyō-san remarked kindly, "but that will come with time and practice. You just need to interact with others more. Language isn't only about reading books; it's about speaking with people."
Harry blinked, processing this advice. He had spent so much time with Yagyō-san and his father that he rarely had the chance to talk to anyone else.
"Does that mean… I need to talk to other people?" Harry asked back, speaking in English.
Yagyō-san gave a small nod. "Yes. Practice makes perfect, as they say. You've come a long way, Harry, but now you must step outside and use what you've learned."
James, who had been silent up until now, looked thoughtfully at Harry. He knew this moment was coming, but the idea of sending his son into the wider world filled him with both pride and anxiety. Harry had worked hard to learn the language, but the next step, socializing with other children, was problematic, especially if thinking about the past experiences Harry had with his classmates.
"Yagyō-san's right," James said gently. "You've been doing amazing, Harry, but the best way to keep improving is by talking with others. I think… it's time we enrolled you in school."
Harry's face fell as soon as the word "school" was said. His stomach twisted in knots at the thought of leaving the safety of Yagyō-san's house and being surrounded by strangers, strangers who all spoke Japanese fluently and would probably make fun of him.
"B-But Dad…" Harry began, "I don't want to go. I won't understand everything they say. What if… what if they don't like me because I speak funny?"
James stood up, jumped to his son's shoulder, and patted his head. "I know it's scary, Harry. It's a big change. But you've worked so hard to learn, and you're already speaking so well. The only thing left is for you to practice with other kids your age."
Harry bit his lip, his eyes filled with uncertainty. The thought of leaving the small world he'd grown comfortable with, his father, Yagyō-san, and Sunakake-Babaa, was overwhelming.
Seeing Harry's struggling, Yagyō-san spoke up. "The more you speak with others, the more natural the language will feel to you."
Harry nodded slowly, though his heart was still racing fast. He didn't want to disappoint his father, but the idea of going to a Japanese school made his stomach twist.
That evening, after leaving Yagyō-san's house, Harry walked back through the forest in silence with his father on his shoulder. The frogs and toads croaked their familiar "Gege-gege" in the background, but Harry barely noticed.
As they reached the edge of the forest and returned to their small apartment in the Yokai village, James sat down with Harry on the futon. "I know you're scared, Harry," he said quietly, "but I'll be here every step of the way. You don't have to be perfect. Just do your best."
Harry nodded, his small face serious. "I'll try, Dad," he whispered, though his voice wavered.
The next few days flew by in a blur as James talked with Sunakake-Babaa so she could help him enroll Harry in the local public school. Harry kept quiet about his fears, but every night before bed, he would stare at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. He imagined classrooms full of students laughing at him just like in England, teachers frustrated with his slow comprehension, and endless hours of confusion as he struggled to keep up.
On the morning of his first day, Harry stood nervously in front of the mirror, wearing a simple t-shirt, shorts, and a red backpack. The backpack felt stiff and uncomfortable like it didn't belong to him.
"You look great, son," James said. "You're going to do just fine."
Harry swallowed hard, nodding even though he didn't feel as confident. His heart pounded in his chest as they left the apartment and made their way to the school.
When they arrived, the schoolyard was already filled with children, their laughter and chatter blending into a cacophony of sounds that made Harry's head spin. He took a big breath and then walked inside the building.
The first place Harry went was to the teacher's room, in which he asked for his homeroom teacher. Before he knew it, he was being led into the hallways.
Then, they finally arrived at the classroom. Harry felt every pair of eyes on him, studying him, judging him. The teacher said something to the class that Harry didn't fully understand, but he caught enough to know it was an introduction.
With a shaky breath, Harry bowed slightly, just as he had seen others do. "H-Hajimemashite," he stammered, his heavy accent drawing a few giggles from the back of the room. His face burned with embarrassment, but he forced himself to continue. "Harry desu."
The teacher smiled, and some of the students clapped politely. Harry could still feel his heart racing, but as he took his seat, he realized it wasn't as bad as he feared. He had made it through his first introduction, and no one had laughed at him too harshly.
Harry walked to his seat, feeling the weight of every student's eyes on him. His clothes were different from what the other kids wore, but that was the least of his concerns. He could feel the heat of whispers starting up around him, and his hand nervously brushed his hair to try to hide his missing eye.
The classroom buzzed with chatter, and Harry could hear them but not totally understand what they were saying.
Once he sat down, the teacher resumed the lesson, and for a while, everything seemed normal. But Harry could hear the faint whispers already circulating through the room.
"Is that the foreign kid from England?" one boy whispered to his friend.
"Yeah, I thought he'd be, like, those on the TV or movies," another boy said, clearly disappointed.
Harry could feel his face getting warm. He tried to keep his eye on the floor, but it was impossible to ignore the three boys who approached him. They were clearly a tight-knit group led by a tall boy with messy hair and an arrogant smirk plastered across his face.
Harry clenched his fists under the desk. He didn't need to understand every word in Japanese to know they were talking about him. He had been through this before in other places. Being "different" always seemed to draw unwanted attention.
When the teacher left the room for a few minutes, things escalated. Three boys immediately turned toward Harry's direction, led by a tall, confident kid with an arrogant smirk.
"So, you're the big foreigner from England, huh?" the tall boy asked in a loud voice, making sure everyone could hear. "You don't look like anything special to me."
The other two boys snickered, nodding in agreement. One of them said, "We thought you'd be some cool-looking foreigner, not some freak with only one eye."
The words stung. Harry could feel his face flush, and he instinctively brushed his fringe down to try and cover the missing eye again.
One of the boys, trying to impress someone, turned his attention to the most beautiful girl in the class. She sat near the window, looking elegant with her reddish-brown hair tied back with a large red bow. Her red dress stood out against her crisp white shirt, and she had an air of confidence that made her seem untouchable.
"Hey," the boy called out to her, raising his voice, "don't you think this guy's a letdown? We thought we'd get a cool-looking foreigner, and we got this."
The girl turned slowly to look at him, her face expressionless. For a moment, the whole class seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see how she would respond. She glanced at the boy who talked to her and rolled her eyes, then in a calm voice, she said, "You're a bunch of kids."
The boys caught off guard, fumbled for a response. The lead boy shrugged it off with a "Whatever" and turned back to face the front, clearly not wanting to push it any further.
The rest of the day passed with the occasional snide remark thrown Harry's way, but the girl's quiet rebuke had taken the edge off the bullying, for now. Harry sat through the lessons in silence, focusing on the words of the teacher and trying his best to follow along, though he was having a hard time understanding everything.
When the final bell rang, Harry gathered his things quickly and slipped out of the classroom, eager to leave behind the prying eyes and whispers.
As he walked back toward the apartment, he noticed some construction work going on near the school. The loud banging of hammers and the hum of machinery filled the air, and that distracted Harry for a moment. Never has he been so close to any construction site. Watching people working in such laborious jobs made Harry wonder about what his father said about magic.
When Harry then decided to walk faster to the apartment he was living in, he saw that ahead of him was the popular girl from his class walking with a few other girls. They were talking amongst themselves, their laughter soft and friendly, completely separate from the teasing and bullying that had filled Harry's day. For a moment, they were walking in the same direction, but soon, the group turned into a small shop, leaving Harry alone on the street.
Harry continued his walk back to the apartment in silence, his shoulders slumped under the weight of everything that had happened. And somehow, he felt that someone was watching him.
By the time he reached the apartment, the sun was beginning to set. The familiar sight of the building brought him a small sense of relief. He climbed the stairs, pushed open the door, and was greeted by the comforting smell of dinner cooking.
"Hey, Harry," his father called from the kitchen. "How was your first day? Did everything go alright?"
Harry stopped for a moment, turned to his father, and forced a smile. "Yeah, Dad. It was okay," he said quietly.
He didn't mention the bullies. He didn't mention the scar or the cruel things they had said. He didn't mention the girl in the red dress or how her simple words had shut the boys down in a way Harry wished he could.
The next few days had been manageable, with only the occasional sneer or whispered insult. But that changed when the boys who sat near the back of the class decided to make Harry the subject of their jokes. It started during lunch one day. When he was handed his lunch by the students, two of them were the kids who had been openly mocking him.
Harry sat down to eat, and the instant he took a bite, he realized something was wrong. The food tasted spoiled—bitter and mushy. When he looked at his plate, he saw that they had switched his portion with something from the kitchen's trash.
His stomach twisted, but Harry forced himself to eat, determined not to show any weakness. He knew that reacting would only fuel their amusement. The boys watched him with mocking smiles, nudging each other and laughing behind their hands.
It got worse from there. His indoor shoes, required for school, disappeared a few days later. He had searched everywhere, but they were gone. His homeroom teacher, noticing that Harry was in his outdoor shoes, scolded him harshly, accusing him of being careless and irresponsible. As punishment, Harry was made to stand outside in the hallway for the entire lesson while his classmates watched through the glass windows, grinning.
Even after class ended, the boys weren't done. They cornered Harry as he tried to leave for the day. "Oi, Hitotsume-bouya," one of them sneered, shoving him against the wall. Harry stumbled but caught his balance, saying nothing.
"What's wrong? Can't speak properly?" another taunted, smirking as he punched Harry in the stomach. The punch wasn't hard enough to seriously hurt him, but it stung. He doubled over slightly, gasping for air.
"You're just a freak. You shouldn't even be here," the tall boy said, grabbing Harry by the collar and pushing him again.
Harry clenched his fists, fighting back the urge to strike. He knew it wouldn't solve anything, and getting into trouble was the last thing he wanted. His father had already done so much to bring them here to start a new life, and Harry couldn't bear the thought of making things worse.
They left him after a few more punches and harsh words, laughing as they walked away. Harry stood there for a moment, breathing deeply to calm himself, before heading home.
These scenes happened every day, and although the bullies were always the same three kids, at least it was not like in England, where all the class was with Dudley.
On his walks back home, Harry always looked at the construction site near the school. Large cranes loomed over unfinished buildings, and workers bustled about with helmets and machines. Harry felt like something from the site, but he didn't know why he was so attracted to the construction.
Then, as many other days, Harry felt someone was watching him. The feeling was initially subtle, as if unseen eyes were following him. He would turn around, only to see nothing but the usual scenery. But as the days went by, the sensation grew stronger, more unnerving.
One evening, as Harry walked home after another rough day at school, he felt it again, that creeping sensation of being watched. The sky was overcast, and the shadows around the construction site were longer than usual. He picked up his pace, eager to get home and away from the eerie feeling.
Then he heard a noise, a low, raspy voice coming from behind him. "Oi… boy."
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. His heart thudded in his chest as he slowly turned around. There, standing in the shadows of the street, was something, or rather, someone completely unexpected.
A creature, short and squat, covered in thick hair, with small glinting eyes and a broad, toothy grin, was watching him from the darkness. The figure stepped forward, revealing its full form. Its hair was wild and covered all his skin with a strange shade of dark brown, blending with the shadows. It had a stout, muscular build, and its hands were clawed.
"I've been waiting for you," the creature rasped. "You're a wizard, a British one, aren't you?"
Harry took a step back, his breath caught in his throat. He didn't know what this thing was, but his instincts told him to run. Without thinking, Harry turned and bolted down the street.
The creature laughed, a deep, guttural sound that echoed in the narrow street. "Run all you want, wizard! You can't escape me!"
Harry's heart pounded as he weaved through the streets, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The strange creature was fast, much faster than he had anticipated. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the creature closing in on him, its eyes gleaming with twisted delight.
"Master is going to be happy when I take you to him," The yokai called, his voice growing louder with each step.
Harry's legs burned as he pushed himself to run faster, but he couldn't outpace the creature. Desperation filled him, and he shouted over his shoulder, "Why? Why are you after me?"
The yokai's laughter stopped abruptly, and for a moment, there was silence. Then the yokai's voice came again, quieter this time, almost curious. "You really don't know, do you?"
Harry slowed slightly, his exhaustion catching up with him, and glanced back. The yokai wasn't chasing him anymore, he was simply walking, a strange smile on his face.
"It's because you're a British wizard," he said, his tone mocking. "European wizards caused chaos in Japan. Your kind attacked us with your dark magic. So I think it's only fair I take you, don't you?"
Harry's mind raced, trying to make sense of what the yokai was saying. "I-I didn't know," he stammered. "My family was attacked by dark wizards, too! That's why I…" He trailed off, his voice faltering as his hand instinctively went to his missing eye. "That's why I don't have an eye. My mum… she died because of them."
The yokai stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. The sneer on his face changed to something that was hard to describe for Harry. For a long moment, the two of them just stood there, the only sound being Harry's labored breathing.
"Your family?" he muttered, almost to himself. He looked at Harry with a strange expression, one that seemed to waver between anger and understanding.
The yokai seemed to hesitate. He stared at Harry, the grin fading from his face. "what happened?"
Harry, corned, still with his heart pounding fast, replied, "Yeah, my family. A dark wizard attacked us when I was a baby… he killed my mum." His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, the memories painful despite how long ago it had happened.
"My father tried to stop him, but… the dark wizard destroyed his body. My dad… he's only an eye now. Just a tiny eye." Harry instinctively touched to hide his missing eye. "And I… I survived. When the dark wizard cast a curse at me, it rebounded and killed him instead."
The yokai's large, furry head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing. He seemed to be processing Harry's words slowly as if piecing together fragments of a larger story. "A dark wizard… a curse rebounding…" he repeated, his brow furrowing. "Wait… you… survived when the wizard died?" His voice trailed off, and his eyes widened in sudden realization. "You're… Harry Potter."
Harry blinked, surprised that a yokai would know his name. The yokai's tone shifted entirely. The aggression he had shown earlier vanished, replaced by something more thoughtful. "I see… So you're not just any British wizard." He stood silently for a moment, scratching his chin, lost in thought.
Finally, he sighed deeply, the fur on his shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been lifted. "Oh, I haven't told you my name. I'm Chinpo. I was forced to work for Tantanbō, a powerful yokai who's… well, not the nicest. He makes me kidnap children for him. That's why I was going to take you." Chinpo looked at Harry, ashamed of what he had just admitted.
Harry swallowed hard. The idea of being kidnapped was terrifying enough, but now he realized that Chinpo himself was trapped, working for some larger, more dangerous force. "Why does Tantanbō want kids?" Harry asked quietly.
Chinpo shrugged, looking weary. "Tantanbō… he's obsessed with gathering power to build a castle. Kidnapping children somehow fuels his strength, or so he says. I don't ask many questions. I just… do what I'm told."
For a moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the distant clanking of machinery from the nearby construction site. Harry's heart was still racing, but something about Chinpo's demeanor had changed. He no longer seemed like a threat.
"I'm letting you go, Harry Potter," Chinpo said at last, stepping back into the shadows. "But be careful. Not all yokai are as merciful. Tantanbō won't be happy if he finds out I didn't bring him a kid tonight."
With that, Chinpo vanished, melting into the dark alleyways, leaving Harry standing alone beneath the dim streetlights. The encounter left Harry shaken but relieved. He turned and quickly made his way home, his mind racing with the knowledge that there were far worse threats than school bullies lurking in the shadows of Japan.
The next day was Saturday, and Harry spent the entire weekend with his father. James stood comfortably in Harry's hair as they walked through the Yokai village, enjoying the warm spring air. They spent time visiting the local shops, where Sunakake-Babaa had a word or two with nearly every shopkeeper they passed. Harry even got to try some sweets from a small street vendor, and they stopped by the bathhouse, where Harry soaked until his fingers wrinkled from the hot water.
It was the kind of peaceful, normal day that Harry had longed for. For a brief moment, he almost forgot about the encounter with Chinpo and the looming threat of Tantanbō and the bullies at school.
But the weekend ended, and Harry went back to school again. But something strange happened when he went back to school: his bullies weren't there. The tall boy who usually led the group and his sneering sidekicks were nowhere to be seen. Harry glanced around cautiously, expecting some kind of trick, but the day passed without incident.
For the first time in a while, Harry had a peaceful day at school. He sat at his desk, quietly working through his assignments and avoiding drawing attention to himself. No one bothered him. It felt almost too good to be true.
Later that night, back at the apartment building, Harry found his father sitting at the table in Sunakake-Babaa's room, watching the news with her. James was holding an impossibly small cup of tea.
The sound of the reporter on the TV was keeping James' attention. "Local authorities are investigating a sudden string of child abductions across the city. Several children have gone missing in the past few days, and while police are treating this as a top-priority case, there are few leads at this time."
Sunakake-Babaa shook her head, her eyes closed as she walked to sit close to Harry and James. "Kidnappings… again," she muttered. "It's been happening more and more."
Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine. He remembered what Chinpo had said about being forced to kidnap children for Tantanbō.
The next morning, as Harry got ready for school, his father made a decision. "I'm coming with you today," James said, his voice firm. "I'll stay hidden in your hair. We don't know what's happening, but I'm not letting you face it alone."
Harry nodded. After the encounter with Chinpo, he knew his father was right to be cautious. As he packed his schoolbag, James added one more instruction. "Bring the cloak," he said. "Just in case we need to be invisible."
At school, things seemed normal enough. Harry entered the classroom, expecting to see the usual faces, but once again, the three boys who had tormented him before were absent. For a moment, Harry wondered if they had finally gotten into trouble and were suspended. Either way, it didn't seem like anyone missed them. The day moved on quietly, with no bullies to make it difficult for him.
While Harry focused on his classes, trying to keep up with the language and assignments, James remained hidden in Harry's hair, more alert than his son. As Harry busied himself with a math problem, James noticed something odd—two boys sitting at the back of the class whispering to each other. They were talking quietly, glancing around nervously as if they didn't want the teacher to overhear.
James strained to listen, catching fragments of their conversation. "...three kids… gone... nothing in weeks… weird…" One of them muttered, and the other nodded, wide-eyed.
James frowned inside Harry's hair, his instincts tingling. Three kids? he thought. He didn't know who they were referring to, but something about the conversation didn't sit right with him. It was a detail he would file away for later.
As James scanned the classroom, his gaze landed on a girl sitting near the window, her reddish-brown hair tied back with a large, elegant bow. She was one of the most popular girls in class, always calm and collected. But something about her struck James as unusual. She seemed… aware. He noticed the way her eyes flicked briefly to Harry, her gaze lingering just a second longer than normal. Then, as if sensing him, her eyes darted toward Harry's hair.
James froze. Could she see him? He was hidden, completely out of sight, but the way she squinted slightly made him think that she knew more than she was letting on. The girl didn't say anything, though. She just raised an eyebrow, then turned back to her work as if dismissing whatever she had sensed.
"Interesting," James muttered under his breath, keeping a mental note of the girl. She had sharp instincts, and it seemed like she was far more observant than most of her classmates.
The day passed uneventfully, with Harry focused on his lessons and enjoying the quiet without the usual bullying. But as school ended and he packed his bag, he felt an odd pull of curiosity once again toward the construction site. It was the same feeling he'd had before like something was calling him there.
Harry walked home. The streets were the same, bustling with life, but his steps slowed as he approached the familiar unfinished buildings at the construction site.
James stirred in Harry's hair. "Careful, Harry," his father warned. "Something's not right."
Harry nodded but couldn't shake his curiosity, and with braver thanks to his father being there, he edged closer to the fence surrounding the construction site, peering through the gaps. There was nothing immediately unusual, just the same piles of materials and half-built structures. But then, from the shadows, a soft voice reached his ears, a woman's voice, low and melodic.
"Come closer, child."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he stepped back instinctively. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice trembling slightly.
From the shadows emerged a figure, a woman dressed in an elegant kimono, her long, dark hair cascading down her back. At first glance, she appeared normal, even beautiful, but there was something wrong about her.
"Come closer," she repeated, her voice lilting, almost hypnotic.
But Harry didn't move. Something deep inside him screamed that this wasn't right. He took another step back, his hand reaching for his backpack where his father's cloak was stored. "Who are you?" he called out.
The woman tilted her head, her long hair shifting as she did. And then, to Harry's horror, he saw it, a second mouth, grotesque and wide, embedded in the back of her head. This second mouth grinned, its teeth long and razor-sharp.
"A kid coming for himself?" the woman's voice sounded sweet. "Tantanbō will be please," the second mouth hissed, the words sending a shiver down Harry's spine. "Come here, little boy."
Harry stumbled backward, his breath catching in his throat. The female yokai lunged at him, her hands outstretched, claws gleaming in the fading light. Harry barely had time to react. He threw his backpack up as a shield, dodging just in time to avoid the sharp claws aimed at his face.
"Run, Harry!" James yelled from his hair. "Now!"
Harry turned and sprinted, but the yokai was faster. Her second mouth cackled, its voice haunting and chilling as it snapped hungrily, getting closer with each step.
Just as Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to escape, a whirlwind of sand erupted between him and the yokai, swirling violently and creating a barrier of dust and debris.
"Harry! Over here!"
Sunakake-Babaa appeared from the sandstorm, her old sharp eyes locking onto the other yokai. With a swift wave of her hand, the sand whirled faster, pushing the yokai back.
"Sunakake-Babaa!" Harry gasped, rushing toward her. He clutched his backpack tightly, knowing that his father was ready if they needed to act quickly.
The enemy yokai let out a furious screech, her second mouth gnashing its teeth as it tried to push through the barrier.
"That's a Futakuchi-Onna," Sunakake-Babaa muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing. "Dangerous yokai, she's never alone."
Before Harry could respond, they both heard the familiar, slow shuffle of footsteps behind them. Harry turned to see a hunched figure approaching—a familiar face, though not exactly welcome at the moment.
"Konaki-Jijii!" Sunakake-Babaa exclaimed, her voice full of exasperation. "What are you doing here?"
The old man with the drooping face staggered forward, his eyes tired with drunkenness. "Eh? What's all this noise?" he slurred, barely noticing the deadly yokai just a few feet away.
Sunakake-Babaa's warning came too late. The Futakuchi-Onna spotted Konaki-Jijii and lunged at him with a shriek, her second mouth wide open, teeth ready to bite.
"Konaki-Jijii!" Harry yelled, pulling out the Invisibility Cloak from his backpack. In one swift motion, he threw it over himself and Sunakake-Babaa, concealing them from the yokai's sight.
Konaki-Jijii, however, was left exposed. He stumbled, blinking as the Futakuchi-Onna rushed toward him. But before she could reach him, he started to cry and turned into a stone
Harry watched in awe as the old man turned into a massive boulder.
Futakuchi-Onna, distracted by her failed attempt to find Harry, didn't see what was coming. Harry and Sunakake-Babaa appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Futakuchi-Onna's hands and legs. Then Konaki-Jijii turned back into a person and jumped, only to turn into stone again in the air and fall over Futakuchi-Onna's body.
The ground trembled from the impact, and the Futakuchi-Onna let out a final, guttural scream before falling silent, her body pinned under the weight of Konaki-Jijii's stone form.
"Well, that was a bit more excitement than I'd planned for today," Sunakake-Babaa muttered, brushing sand from her kimono.
Konaki-Jijii chuckled, still a little dazed from his heroic leap. "Always glad to help," he slurred, though his movements were a bit unsteady.
Harry let out a long breath, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline. He looked down at the crushed form of the Futakuchi-Onna, then up at Sunakake-Babaa and Konaki-Jijii. "Thank you," he said quietly, feeling a surge of relief.
Sunakake-Babaa dusted herself off, her stern face softening slightly as she glanced at Harry. "Don't mention it," she replied, though her gaze lingered on the crushed body of the yokai. "But we should leave quickly."
Harry nodded but hesitated, his mind racing. He remembered what Chinpo had said about Tantanbō, the powerful yokai who had been kidnapping children. "Wait," he said, looking from his father's small eye nestled in his hair to the others. "We should search the place. Maybe the kidnapped people are here."
James stirred in his hiding spot, wanting to ask Harry more about what he knew but deciding against it. He could sense the urgency in his son's voice. "I trust your instincts, Harry," he said. "Let's stay together."
Sunakake-Babaa narrowed her eyes in thought and nodded.
Konaki-Jijii, still a bit dazed from the fall, grunted in agreement, his stony body was again normal. "Better not wait for more evil yokais to show up," he mumbled, his usual drunken tone laced with seriousness.
The four of them, Harry, James, Sunakake-Babaa, and Konaki-Jijii, began making their way deeper into the construction site. As they moved through the half-finished buildings, the world around them seemed to shift. Shadows deepened, and a strange, ethereal glow emanated from the ground ahead.
In the center of the site, where there should have been nothing but cement and scaffolding, a massive, phantasmal Japanese castle stood. Its translucent walls glowed faintly.
"Yōkai Castle," Sunakake-Babaa muttered darkly, her eyes narrowing. "That place hasn't been seen for centuries. It's a stronghold for powerful yokai like Tantanbō."
Harry's gaze fell on something near the base of the castle. A large stone lay shattered, broken into several pieces. He pointed to it. "What's that?"
Sunakake-Babaa's expression grew darker as she approached the broken stone. She looked down, watching the cracked stone. "This was a seal," she said. "It was used to imprison Tantanbō long ago. The construction must have disturbed it, and now the seal's been broken. That's why he's free again."
Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "So he's behind the kidnappings?"
Sunakake-Babaa stood up, nodding. "Yes. He uses his victims to gain power. If he's not stopped, more children will disappear."
Without another word, the group moved toward the entrance of Yōkai Castle. As they stepped through the ghostly gates, a thick, cold mist enveloped them. The interior of the castle was vast, its walls stretching impossibly high. Shadows danced along the corridors, and strange whispers echoed from every direction.
At the heart of the castle, they found him, Tantanbō.
Tantanbō was unlike any yokai Harry had seen before. His body was nothing but a giant, grotesque head. His skin was a pale, sickly green, with a mop of shaggy hair covering his forehead and the back of his head. A pointy bump of flesh grew out of the top. His nose was large and hooked, his upper lip twisted by an aperture, and a thin mustache lined his grotesque face. He hovered just above the floor, his massive form casting long shadows that stretched across the room.
"Well, well," Tantanbō said, his voice deep and rumbling, his eyes glowing with a faint blue light. "It seems I have visitors. How delightful."
Sunakake-Babaa tensed, her hands glowing faintly with sand. "Tantanbō," she spat, "your reign of terror ends here. We won't let you keep kidnapping children."
Tantanbō grinned, his cleft lip curling in a menacing smile. "Oh, but I'm just getting started. And now, you've walked right into my trap."
Without warning, Tantanbō opened his mouth wide, and a thick, sticky mucus shot from his throat, forming a large ring that flew toward the group. The ring of mucus moved with unnatural speed, seeking to encase them.
"Watch out!" James shouted.
Sunakake-Babaa quickly conjured a sandstorm, deflecting the mucus just in time. The phlegm hissed as it hit the ground, sizzling and bubbling where it landed.
Harry, realizing they needed a plan, reached for his backpack. "Dad, the cloak," he whispered.
James nodded. "Good idea. Use it when he's distracted."
While Sunakake-Babaa and Konaki-Jijii engaged Tantanbō, keeping him occupied, Harry slipped the Invisibility Cloak over himself, vanishing from sight. Tantanbō's glowing eyes scanned the room, searching for his next victim, but Harry moved silently, sneaking closer to the monstrous head.
As Tantanbō was preparing another attack, Harry spotted his chance. The yokai's large, glowing eyes were focused on Sunakake-Babaa, who was holding him off with a barrage of sand.
Taking a deep breath, Harry raised the nearest stick he could find and swung it with all his might, aiming directly for Tantanbō's left eye.
The impact was immediate. Tantanbō howled in pain, reeling back as his eye swelled and oozed. "You little pest!" he roared, his voice shaking the very walls of the castle.
Blinded in one eye, Tantanbō turned his rage on the group, his gaze locking onto Konaki-Jijii. His eyes flashed blue, glowing brighter as his petrifying gaze took hold. Konaki-Jijii's body stiffened, slowly turning to stone.
"Konaki-Jijii!" Harry shouted, but it was too late. The yokai was fully turned into stone, frozen in place, and shrunken to a more carriable size by Tantanbō's curse.
Tantanbō's grin returned, even as his injured eye bled mucus. "Now, let's finish this," he hissed, raising his massive head higher into the air.
Harry and Sunakake-Babaa found themselves on the defensive, dodging and deflecting Tantanbō's mucus attacks as he hovered above them. The sticky phlegm followed them relentlessly, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of it.
"We can't hold him off for long!" Sunakake-Babaa called, her voice strained as she struggled to keep up her magic.
Just as it seemed like there was no way out, a shadow appeared high above them, Konaki-Jijii, having freed himself from the petrification! As he was already to control his body to turn to stone, the curse of Tantanbō did nothing to him.
In his stone form, he was falling from an incredible height, aiming directly for Tantanbō.
Tantanbō, distracted by his battle with Harry and Sunakake-Babaa, didn't see it coming.
With a loud crash, Konaki-Jijii slammed into Tantanbō, crushing the monstrous head beneath his stone weight. The impact shook the entire castle, and Tantanbō let out a final, guttural scream before his body disintegrated into dust, leaving nothing behind but the echo of his defeat.
With Tantanbō defeated, Harry and Sunakake-Babaa rushed to look around the castle and found the kids tied to some pillars. They help the captured children escape from the castle. As they guided the frightened kids out of the phantasmal stronghold, Harry's heart sank when he recognized three familiar faces among the group, his bullies.
They were pale, terrified, and weak from their ordeal. Their usual arrogance had vanished, replaced by the same fear that gripped all the kidnapped children. They avoided Harry's gaze, too frightened to speak.
Harry didn't say anything to them either. There would be time to figure out what to do later. For now, they needed to get everyone to safety.
On his way back home, Harry, who was walking with his father, Sunakake-Babaa, and Konaki-Jijii, saw something close to the shadows, and a familiar face appeared. Chinpo appeared in front of them, which caused them to be on their guard, except for Harry.
"Wait!" exclaimed Chinpo. "Wait, I don't want any trouble. I…" he hesitated but then spoke again. "I saw what you did. And I wanted to thank you… I was forced to work for him." He then bowed respectfully, "Thank you very much!" He said before he left the place.
