Ch.282If Side Story. Tokyo Slayers: Final Chapter (20)

But winning a goldfish wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

After silently watching Souta fail about three times from behind, Fukuda finally crouched down next to Kurosawa, looking somewhat frustrated.

“There’s a knack to this. Haven’t you tried it before?”

“Um…”

Actually, I hadn’t.

I’d tried shooting cork-tipped air rifles before, but I’d never actually attempted to catch goldfish since it would be awkward to keep them if I brought them home.

When I went to the festival with Yuka last time, I did take home the one an old man gave me as a gift, but that was unavoidable.

“Here, watch.”

Fukuda picked up the paper scoop and carefully moved it under a goldfish.

He inserted it at an angle, moved horizontally, quickly scooped up the goldfish and dropped it into the container he was holding. The goldfish seemed bewildered by the sudden movement and swam around, but couldn’t escape.

“Amazing!”

Nanami exclaimed with excitement from beside us.

“…I used to go to festivals with my dad a lot when I was little.”

That goldfish, like the one Souta had received as a gift, went into a plastic bag.

Kurosawa held the string attached to the bag and lifted the red goldfish up to her eye level.

The goldfish in the bag stared at Kurosawa for a moment, then seemed to lose interest and began swimming around again.

“Hey, Kurosawa. Next time we come, let’s wear yukatas.”

Nanami said to Kurosawa.

“Don’t you think you’d look like a Japanese doll? So cute.”

Had Nanami’s impression of Kurosawa already progressed to “cute”? Souta smiled slightly as he watched her.

“Come on, let’s get moving. If we’re too late, all the good spots will be taken.”

Nanami said with continued excitement as she took the lead.

Her voice no longer held any of the displeasure from when they first met today.

The rest of the group followed behind her.

Souta felt that Kurosawa’s steps, with the goldfish in one hand, seemed strangely lighter than usual.

Was it just his imagination?

*

“…”

But as Kurosawa was following behind Nanami, she suddenly stopped walking.

Souta was startled when she suddenly stared at him, but fortunately, this time she didn’t just stare without saying anything.

“…Bathroom.”

“Oh, you need to use the bathroom?”

Nanami responded before Souta could react to those awkward words.

Indeed, Kurosawa normally wasn’t seen putting much in her mouth. Today, the children had been giving her sweet things to eat, including drinks, so this was a natural consequence.

“Hey, Souta. I’ll take her. Do you know where it is?”

“Yeah. I checked earlier.”

“…Will that be okay?”

Yuka asked.

For a moment, Nanami’s eyes wavered slightly.

Of course, Shii and Fukuda were also in the group, but for some reason, Nanami didn’t seem to like leaving Yuka and Souta alone together.

“…Which way is the bathroom?”

Finally, Fukuda sighed deeply and asked.

“Ah, that way…”

“I’ll go with her.”

Though he spoke as if it was a bother, Fukuda grabbed Kurosawa’s wrist and pulled her toward him.

Kurosawa did look back at Souta and the others, but she obediently followed behind Fukuda.

“…Will they be okay?”

“With Fukuda, isn’t that actually the safest option?”

At Nanami’s words, all the children except Shii, who didn’t know Fukuda well, nodded.

“We’ll secure a spot first, then contact them to bring her back.”

Souta nodded at those words.

*

Even if it’s not a famous festival, the unique bustling atmosphere that the word “festival” brings always attracts many people.

And where there are many people, bathroom lines always stretch long.

Thanks to this, Kurosawa and Fukuda had to stand in front of the bathroom waiting for quite a while.

Still, it didn’t take as long as expected. After waiting for a few minutes holding Kurosawa’s goldfish, Kurosawa emerged from the bathroom with the same expressionless face as always.

So she does use the bathroom too. Fukuda found himself thinking something obvious.

He handed the goldfish back to Kurosawa, and the two walked in silence.

Fukuda walked ahead, with Kurosawa following slightly behind.

Since it was somewhat inconvenient to walk through the most crowded areas, Fukuda took a shortcut he had noticed on the way.

Though called a shortcut, it wasn’t like a mountain trail. It was more like another shallow path in the park along the stream.

There were streetlights, and naturally, there were some people passing by, but—

“Hey.”

Perhaps because there were fewer people here than at the festival grounds, someone called out to them.

It wasn’t a familiar voice, but somehow the tone suggested they might know either Fukuda or Kurosawa—

“…Ah, you guys.”

Fukuda muttered as if annoyed.

It was those three. The girls who had cut Kurosawa’s arm.

Last time, he had fought them until they were all bloody because he’d lost his temper, but here, he didn’t particularly want to do that again.

While Fukuda himself hadn’t shown a particularly pleasant expression, it was still a festival after all.

It’s not like he hadn’t enjoyed anything. He had just been following along behind people pretending to be friends, but he had been having fun in his own way.

“Can’t we just avoid clashing today? You all seemed to be enjoying yourselves too.”

The three girls weren’t alone.

Seeing the rather large men beside them, it seemed they had found boyfriends.

Fukuda assessed the men’s builds and thought:

This is a bit dangerous.

As tough as Fukuda was, he couldn’t ignore the difference in physical size. Moreover, if those physically larger men, plus the three girls, all attacked at once, he wasn’t confident they’d get away unharmed.

Though Fukuda was curt with others, he wasn’t an emotionless being. No, it was precisely because he had emotions that he could act this way.

He could sense danger, and he could feel fear.

“…Hey, Kurosawa.”

Fukuda turned his head slightly toward Kurosawa and said:

“When I start running, you run too.”

Already sensing the strange atmosphere, people on the street were quietly moving away. There are many police at festivals. How long would it take for them to arrive?

This wasn’t the main street lined with stalls, but they probably couldn’t do more than throw punches in a place where people were watching… though that was little comfort.

Kurosawa tilted her head.

The distance was quite close. Fukuda thought that he must have been quite caught up in the festivities. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have failed to notice this.

“…Run!”

Fukuda shouted and turned to run. Of course, he didn’t forget to grab Kurosawa’s wrist.

But those steps didn’t last long.

Thud.

Something suddenly flew into Fukuda’s stomach as he ran.

The dull impact wasn’t as painful as expected. Or rather, was it so painful that the pain was paradoxically less noticeable?

But the strength draining from his body was unavoidable.

“Ah, I see…”

So they didn’t just come from one direction.

It wasn’t just a coincidence that they met.

It had seemed plausible that the girls had brought their boyfriends along. So naturally, he thought they had come to the festival with the girls taking the lead.

…Why didn’t he consider that the men might have come to the festival, and the girls followed? Or even if he had, would it have made any difference?

Or maybe they just happened to meet at this festival.

“One, two… Hey, we’re short one person. This doesn’t match up.”

Fukuda, barely managing to stay on his feet, heard such a voice.

“Last time one was enough, right?”

“Hey, what did you hear wrong? She was a yakuza’s daughter. Do you know how shocked I was when I saw her name?”

“Right. We couldn’t even enjoy it. She resisted too much.”

“Ah, was that so?”

The man who had hit Fukuda’s stomach scratched his head.

“What… are you talking about?”

Fukuda found himself asking before he knew it.

For some reason, Fukuda thought of his friend Yuu’s face.

His friend who had run away from home and was found by people looking for him.

He had heard that Yuu was covered in blood. He had been beaten until he was about to burst, and was barely discovered by Yuu’s father and acquaintances.

At that time, they were too busy taking Yuu to the hospital to chase after the perpetrators.

Fukuda felt a bit like throwing up. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been hit in the stomach or because he happened to know the identity of these men.

Kurosawa just stood there silently.

Whether the atmosphere was different or not, he couldn’t tell. Probably not much different from when it was Mako… right?

“…Yakuza? Daughter?”

“Huh? Ah. You don’t need to know. So, want to join us at the festival? We know how to have fun. Maybe not the little one, but you look like you’ve had some experience.”

“…Bullshit…”

Hearing Fukuda mutter, the man raised his hand.

And—

Thud.

“Huh, what’s with you? Trying to protect your friend?”

Kurosawa had pushed herself between Fukuda and the man.

Fukuda, who had barely maintained his balance after being hit once, fell backward onto his backside as Kurosawa pushed him.

Meanwhile, Kurosawa seemed to have taken a blow to the head and was staggering.

In the streetlight, the goldfish in the plastic bag was clearly visible.

“At least you girls were enjoying yourselves cutely.”

The man said that and grabbed Kurosawa’s wrist. The bag with the goldfish swayed precariously.

As if wanting to torment Kurosawa, the man lifted her hand high and tried to take the goldfish bag from her hand.

“Kurosawa!”

Fukuda quickly got up. But the man’s hand was already touching the bag.

At that moment, Kurosawa raised her other hand and firmly grabbed the man’s wrist.

She seemed to have scratched him with her nails too.

“Hey, that hurts!”

The man shouted, shaking off Kurosawa’s hand, and struck her cheek with the back of his hand.

Kurosawa’s body staggered again, and her hand lost strength. The plastic bag slipped from her forcefully struck hand, drew an arc through the air, and fell to the ground with a splash.

The bag burst, water splashed, and the red fish inside flopped around.

“Hey, what should we do about this? I’ll catch another one for you—”

The man couldn’t finish his playful remark.

A red line appeared on his cheek.

Soon, a wound formed along that line, and the skin split open like a doll whose seams had burst from the outside.

Blood flowed along the line.

“Huh?”

The man belatedly put his hand to his cheek.

Blood flowed through his fingers, unable to stop it.

“Ugh, ahhh!?”

The man screamed, and his companions, unable to grasp the situation, froze.

Fukuda was equally unable to comprehend what was happening.

However—

He saw Kurosawa’s hair slowly rising, as if lifted by static electricity.

It gave him a strange feeling. A sense of danger that stimulated his instincts, as if he shouldn’t be here.

Another line appeared on the man’s hand, and blood flowed again. Now the men seemed to realize that something was wrong with Kurosawa and started shouting.

Fukuda couldn’t see what expression Kurosawa was making. But it must have been a terrifying one.

Just as the tips of Kurosawa’s hair began to transform like razor blades—

“Wait, no! Kurosawa!”

A voice shouted.

It was Yuka’s voice, urgently running toward them.