Ch.298If Side Story. Tokyo Slayers: Final Chapter (36)

To make an excuse, Souta hasn’t been doing nothing all this time.

He had trained in his own way and learned how to fight in cooperation with Yuka.

Of course, Yuka was always the one who took the lead. She was the only one who knew how to wield a sword, and the only one who could handle that “Nameless” blade.

Drawing blood to make yokai hesitate, sometimes preventing them from approaching altogether. That was Souta’s definite ability. The fighting methods he had somehow learned and the movements he had planned in advance to cooperate with Yuka were all created with that ability in mind.

However, if they faced an opponent immune to such abilities—

“Souta, dodge!”

Yuka shouted.

Souta quickly ducked down. A blade passed through the space where his face had been just moments ago.

“Hmm?”

That sound escaped from Kurosawa’s mouth just once, but before Souta could question it, Yuka swung her sword.

Once again, moonlight and blood-light collided. The blade Kurosawa held was too solid and sharp to be simply made of hardened blood.

Slash!

“…!”

The tip of Yuka’s sword grazed Kurosawa’s body. A long horizontal wound appeared below the collarbone, spraying blood sideways.

“Ugh!?”

But Yuka couldn’t completely avoid the blade either.

A thin wound opened on her arm, and blood flowed. Kurosawa remained standing as if completely unaffected by such an injury, but Yuka staggered for a moment.

An arrow flew toward Kurosawa. With an indifferent expression, Kurosawa swung the sword to cut one in mid-air and blocked another with a hand.

Blood sprayed. Whatever was possessing Kurosawa’s body moved so nonchalantly, as if it didn’t care what happened to that body.

“Hmm.”

And again, as if pondering something, Kurosawa tilted her head and looked down at her hand.

“How strange.”

As if there wasn’t someone with a sword right in front of her, Kurosawa murmured while examining her hand in the moonlight.

“When a pool that should be empty is already full of water, something remains even after scooping it out.”

At those words, Souta’s lips parted slightly.

Seeing Yuka grip her sword and stand up, Souta shouted.

“Yuka, wait!”

“Sasaki?”

Yuka stopped, looking slightly surprised at Souta’s words. But there was no opening in her stance. The movements of someone who had trained countless times on how to move in such situations.

“Wait, just wait…”

Souta said that and looked at Kurosawa.

“What did you mean by what you just said?”

“I meant exactly what I said.”

Kurosawa turned to look at Souta while speaking.

“Even an empty body, as time passes and it moves, eventually becomes a self in its own right. Or perhaps there really was such a thing as a soul all along. Like those past life stories you believe in.”

Kurosawa slowly lowered her hand and gripped the sword again.

“However.”

Before Souta could register it, Kurosawa’s body moved again like a dance. The body that had clearly been showing its back now held the sword in reverse grip, turning halfway and thrusting the blade toward Yuka’s neck.

Souta didn’t even have time to call Yuka’s name.

“…Huh?”

Yuka, either because of her wound or because of Kurosawa’s words, failed to respond in time.

“…Hmm?”

This was the third time.

Kurosawa made the same sound.

“So…ta…?”

Just as Yuka had called Souta’s name with a trembling voice when she saw glass fragments embedded in his hand after breaking the window, this time too, she called his name with a shaking voice.

Souta gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to show his pain in front of this fake Kurosawa.

The sensation of a blade digging into his arm was something he had experienced before, but it wasn’t particularly pleasant.

No, this time it was worse. Could this cause permanent damage to his arm? If tendons or muscles were cut… Such thoughts rose from the depths of his mind, which Souta tried his best to suppress.

Souta was blocking the red blade that Kurosawa had thrust, positioning himself between Yuka and Kurosawa, raising his right arm.

If he had armor, or even a thick book to shield himself, it probably wouldn’t have hurt this much.

No, that red sword could likely easily cut through such things. So the fact that Souta’s arm wasn’t completely severed wasn’t just due to luck.

“…”

Kurosawa was staring silently at Souta. Her face was expressionless.

Yes. Expressionless.

Not the “relaxed expression” she had shown just moments ago.

The expressionless girl Souta had seen during the first semester, and encountered during the break.

At first glance, she seemed to be dismissing people, but in reality, she just didn’t know how to express herself. People misunderstood her because she didn’t speak much, but she actually just wanted to get along with others.

…A girl who simply didn’t know what joy was.

“Kurosawa.”

Souta said.

He could feel blood flowing from his arm, soaking his clothes. Despite the blade being red, Souta’s blood was clearly visible as it ran along it.

“You’re in there, aren’t you?”

Souta asked.

He couldn’t tell how dangerous this sword was. All he knew was that it didn’t break or get cut by Yuka’s sword, which had slain yokai many times before.

But a sword made from the blood of a non-human couldn’t be that weak. It could have easily cut off Souta’s neck if intended.

So, Souta thought.

Perhaps, inside that body, inside Kurosawa’s body, Kurosawa herself was still there.

Souta took one step closer to Kurosawa.

“Kurosawa—”

As Souta took a step forward, Kurosawa’s eyes blinked once.

And then, her mouth stretched into a grin.

“Souta, danger!”

Sensing the danger in an instant, Yuka struck away the blade that was pressed against Souta’s body.

The red line moved away from Souta but then curved at an unnatural angle to aim for his neck again. This wasn’t just skilled swordsmanship or dancing with a blade. It was forcibly altering the trajectory of the sword with superhuman strength, slashing freely.

Yuka blocked the sword several times, but she couldn’t block every strike. Souta was too far forward for that.

Yuka seemed to want to step in front of Souta, but he wouldn’t yield his position.

“Why can’t you cut me?”

Souta asked.

The smile on Kurosawa’s face faded very slightly. She was still grinning, but Souta thought he saw urgency in that expression.

“You said ‘vessel.’ You said you scooped out from inside.”

Souta said.

“You haven’t scooped everything out yet, have you? Kurosawa is still inside.”

Wounds appeared on his shoulders, legs, and hands. Not all of them were fatal, but some were deep enough to make an ordinary person writhe in pain.

But Souta had no intention of backing down.

“There’s still someone in there who doesn’t want to cut me.”

Souta took another step forward.

Thud.

The sword dug into Souta’s flesh. It dug into a place that had already been cut once, as if chopping firewood. The blade was embedded in his shoulder, but—

“…You.”

A voice leaked from Kurosawa’s mouth. Whether it was really Kurosawa’s voice or not, he couldn’t tell.

There was a habit that Yuka had tried to correct while spending time with Souta. She had tried to instill some “common sense” into him.

Don’t rush toward danger.

Deliberately putting your face in front of a dump truck rushing at 100km/h is nothing short of suicidal.

Jumping in front of yokai is the same thing—

But Souta just couldn’t break that habit.

Souta hated seeing people in front of him get hurt.

Why was that? What had caused him to be that way? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps he had thought that way after seeing his parents. Watching his parents fight while only asserting their own thoughts since childhood, seeing Shii hiding behind Souta’s back, clutching his clothes and crying.

He hated seeing Yuka get hurt. So, if Souta could block it, he would.

That was all there was to it.

“Kurosawa.”

Souta grabbed the blade and pushed it aside. He could feel the sharp edge digging into his fingers. The tip of the sword trembled as if in a test of strength, but eventually, it gave way.

As if it didn’t want to kill Souta at all costs.

“You were in a hurry? I don’t know where you came from, but…”

Souta said as he stepped forward, imitating the words Yuka often used to provoke yokai.

The expression on Kurosawa’s face slowly evaporated.

It looked as if her face was hardening,

And also as if she was returning to being Kurosawa.

Souta grabbed Kurosawa’s shoulder with a trembling hand.

Near where Yuka had cut her earlier—

Kurosawa’s eyes widened. Her expressionless face rapidly crumbled.

The next moment, Souta’s body was floating and being pushed backward.