The spiritual motorcade met us on the runway.
Not near the runway.
On it.
By the time the jet doors opened, twelve black SUVs had formed a silent procession beneath the rain while men in immaculate gloves unloaded:
- ceremonial salt
- air purifiers
- three locked crystal cases
- and Lucien's emergency recovery orchids
I stepped onto the tarmac and immediately regretted being alive.
Hakone's mountain air was cold and damp, heavy with fog and cedar smoke.
Normally, I found Japan calming.
Tonight it felt like we were transporting a cursed royal heir through enemy territory.
"Move carefully," Blaze warned as Lucien emerged from the cabin wrapped in layered alpaca blankets like an emotionally fragile emperor. "His energetic field is still unstable."
"I can hear colors," Lucien whispered weakly.
"That's not good," Saturn said immediately.
Marianne stood beside me holding two phones, a folder, and what looked suspiciously like the remains of her sanity.
"The spiritual convoy is prepared," she said tonelessly. "The purification team arrived thirty minutes ago. The local healer requested advance warning if Lucien begins dissociating near reflective surfaces."
I stared at her.
"Has that happened before?"
"No one will answer me directly anymore."
Fair.
The drive into Hakone felt less like transportation and more like relocating a haunted artifact.
The SUVs moved in perfect silence through the mountain roads while soft instrumental music played through hidden speakers. At the front of the convoy, one vehicle carried the purification team.
At the rear, another carried what Blaze referred to as "emotional support minerals."
Lucien lay across the backseat beside me staring faintly out the window.
"The forest feels ancient," he murmured.
Saturn looked up sharply from the opposite seat.
"Ancient good or ancient watching?"
Lucien hesitated.
"...watching."
Blaze audibly prayed.
Marianne nearly drove the car into a guardrail.
By the time we reached the estate, the situation had deteriorated significantly.
The Hakone house sat against the mountainside surrounded by cedar trees and fog, all dark wood, stone pathways, and glowing paper lanterns reflected against rainwater.
It should have felt peaceful.
Instead, thirty-seven people were standing outside waiting for us in complete silence.
Purification staff.
House attendants.
Two healers.
One extremely concerned chef.
And a Shinto priest whose expression shifted immediately to horror the second Lucien stepped out of the car.
"Oh," the priest said quietly.
Nobody liked that tone.
The priest approached slowly, hands folded inside his sleeves.
He studied Lucien for a long moment.
Then he looked directly at me.
"This," he said carefully, "is probably one of the worst spiritual crises I have seen in my time."
Complete silence.
Blaze physically sat down on the stone pathway.
Saturn covered his mouth in shock.
Lucien looked moments away from evaporating emotionally.
Marianne closed her eyes like she was trying to leave her body.
"What do we do?" I asked immediately.
The priest inhaled slowly.
"The house must be staged before he enters."
"Fine."
The priest looked toward the estate gravely.
"Eight times."
Marianne made a sound I had never heard from another human being.
"Eight?" Blaze repeated weakly.
"The energy contamination is severe."
"Dear God," Saturn whispered.
Within minutes, the estate descended into ritualized chaos.
Teams moved room to room carrying incense, salt, candles, branches, bells, bowls of water, and what appeared to be spiritually significant moss.
At one point, two women argued intensely about the emotional temperature of the east hallway.
Meanwhile Lucien's condition continued worsening.
He sat wrapped in blankets beneath the covered entrance while three separate people waved smoke around him professionally.
"I don't feel geographically stable," he whispered.
Blaze immediately knelt beside him.
"Stay with us."
"The mountains think I'm temporary..."
"You are not temporary," Blaze said firmly, visibly emotional. "You are deeply curated."
Saturn looked seconds away from tears.
I turned toward Marianne.
"How long until the house is ready?"
She stared blankly at her tablet.
"The west wing failed spiritually."
"What does that mean?"
"No one can explain it in words I understand."
A bell rang somewhere inside the estate.
Then another.
Then shouting.
One of the attendants hurried outside looking visibly alarmed.
"The meditation room has become emotionally aggressive."
Blaze stood instantly.
"I knew it."
"How?" I demanded.
"The koi pond looked judgmental."
Of course it did.
At that exact moment, Lucien gasped softly.
Everyone froze.
"The air tastes capitalistic," he whispered.
The Shinto priest went pale.
"This is progressing quickly."
Marianne looked ready to walk directly into the ocean.
I stepped forward immediately.
"Okay. Enough. We need to stabilize him now."
The chef bowed nervously nearby.
"We have prepared a restorative dinner."
Finally.
Something normal.
"Good," I said. "Bring Lucien whatever he wants."
The chef nodded.
"We have prepared sustainable bluefin—"
Blaze froze.
A terrible silence fell over the courtyard.
Saturn slowly looked up.
"...Bluefin?"
The chef visibly panicked.
"It was locally sourced—"
"Locally sourced?" Blaze repeated faintly.
Lucien made a tiny wounded sound beneath the blankets.
The priest whispered something urgent under his breath.
I looked between all of them.
"What?"
Nobody answered.
Then Saturn spoke in the quiet voice of a man announcing societal collapse.
"Bluefin tuna populations are spiritually vulnerable."
The entire courtyard erupted instantly.
"Oh my God."
"Who approved this?"
"Get it away from him!"
"The energy of extinction is catastrophic!"
The chef looked moments from death.
Lucien's breathing became shallow.
"I can feel the unsustainable fishing practices..."
"Remove the tuna," Blaze ordered immediately.
"It's already gone!" the chef cried.
Marianne pinched the bridge of her nose so hard I worried about structural damage.
"Sir," she said flatly, "the purification team is requesting additional time due to what they're calling 'seafood-related energetic destabilization.'"
I stared out at the fog-covered mountains of Hakone and wondered briefly if this was how powerful men went insane.
Then Lucien looked up at me weakly.
"Adrian?"
"Yes?"
"If I spiritually die here..."
"You won't."
"But if I do... promise me you won't let Blaze decorate my memorial."
Blaze looked genuinely offended.
"I would honor you beautifully."
"You'd make it moon-themed."
"Because you loved the moon!"
"That's not the point, Blaze."
The priest interrupted suddenly.
"The house is ready for the sixth staging."
Marianne looked up slowly.
"Only sixth?"
"No one speaks to me," she whispered. "I'm approaching a psychological event."