Ch.299If Side Story. Tokyo Slayers: Final Chapter (37)

Souta sensed something.

When he placed his hand on Kurosawa’s collarbone, he felt something beyond the simple sensation of his hand resting there.

The feeling was close to being momentarily drawn in.

It disappeared before he could fully grasp it, but he could clearly tell that his action had somehow put the other person on alert.

“…Good.”

Souta muttered this and tried to get up while coughing. He couldn’t stand right away.

His back hurt terribly.

What he saw before him was Yuka’s back.

It had always been this way. Yuka, much smaller than Souta, always stood in front protecting him. Though he tried to help, Souta wasn’t sure if he had ever been truly useful until now.

His hand hurt. The pain had gone far beyond a mere stinging sensation long ago. Blood continuously flowed from the wound where something sharp had cut him, making his palm slippery.

His body was damp as if soaked in sweat. He probably was sweating, but he had lost much more blood than that.

He couldn’t tell if his dizziness was from losing too much blood or simply from the pain.

But Souta forced himself to stand by putting strength in his legs. His ribs or solar plexus ached, but he still had something he needed to do.

Almost instinctively, he reached his hand toward the side of Yuka’s neck.

“…!”

Yuka drew in a breath. Blood splattered on the side of her face. It was Souta’s blood.

Red dots scattered across her flawlessly white skin.

Once again, he hadn’t completely cut down the black Souta. Whether it was because of the blood flowing from Souta’s body or because of Kurosawa’s emotions, Souta thought that would be enough.

A grinding sound of teeth could be heard. Yuka was glaring at Kurosawa with terrifying eyes.

I hope she doesn’t hate her too much—Souta found himself thinking without realizing it.

Well, Yuka did say not to think of yokai as living beings. That it was natural to cut them down if necessary. Souta also thought that was sometimes unavoidable.

He thought so, but—

Yuka screamed.

A sound with no linguistic rules, conveying nothing but pure emotion.

Yuka lunged forward.

A white light pierced Kurosawa’s shoulder, and then Yuka’s body slammed into Kurosawa’s with all her might. The red blade was in black Souta’s hand. That blade, with its edge gripped, didn’t move easily.

The red blade slipped out along Souta’s hand, and Yuka and Kurosawa tumbled together. It wasn’t clear who let go first, but both Yuka’s sword and Kurosawa’s sword fell from their hands and rolled on the ground.

“……”

Kurosawa didn’t say anything.

Perhaps she couldn’t speak. Yuka’s hands were around Kurosawa’s neck.

“Yuka!”

Souta rushed toward Kurosawa.

He wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

Did he want to stop Yuka? Did he not want to see Kurosawa die?

But if they didn’t defeat Kurosawa here, everyone would eventually be in danger. Kurosawa had probably come looking not for Yuka or Souta, but for Kurosawa’s mother who was inside.

He couldn’t predict what would happen if those two met. But Souta could easily imagine that it wouldn’t be anything trivial.

Kurosawa made choking sounds.

Though her face remained expressionless, blood was gradually rushing to her face like someone being strangled. Her hands, which had initially tried to push away Yuka’s face, fell limply to the side.

“Yuka.”

Souta put his hand on Yuka’s shoulder, but she didn’t move from her position.

It felt ominous. Somehow, he felt like they had been manipulated from the beginning.

Souta reached out with a trembling hand and placed it over Yuka’s hand.

Yuka’s breathing became unsteady. She couldn’t stop trembling at the sight of Souta’s hand and arm before her.

Yuka’s hands were also shaking. Her eyes wavered aimlessly as she looked at Kurosawa, who was looking up at Yuka with tears in her eyes and a reddened face, as if in pain.

Slowly, the strength left her hands.

But she didn’t completely remove them. They couldn’t know what Kurosawa might do if she got up.

“What exactly do you want?”

Souta asked.

“……”

Kurosawa was staring blankly at the ceiling.

After a long silence, a tear rolled down from the corner of Kurosawa’s eye.

“Ah, it hurts…”

That’s what Kurosawa said.

Yuka drew in a breath. For just a moment, the strength left her hands—

A tearing sound of flesh being cut was heard.

Souta had always been slower than Yuka. No matter how hard he tried, he could never match Yuka who had been doing this kind of work from the beginning. Souta himself never intended to reach that level.

That’s why Yuka was always the one standing in front and getting hurt.

But even someone like Souta could push Yuka’s body away.

“…You’re not fooled.”

Blood flowed from Souta’s mouth.

“Your expression is a bit different. Yours and Kurosawa’s.”

Souta said.

Even with an expressionless face, there’s a difference between the blank expression of someone who has no interest in anything and the blank expression of someone who doesn’t know what expression to make.

Kurosawa’s expressionless face was more…

An expressionless face that wanted to know more. About anything.

Just a child who hadn’t been given the environment to do so.

“…Souta?”

Yuka’s voice became so small it was almost a whisper. It was as if she feared Souta might die if she spoke any louder.

Kurosawa’s hand had pierced through Souta’s stomach.

“You haven’t adapted yet.”

Souta said, looking down at Kurosawa.

“So that’s what it was.”

Souta smiled.

So, not yet. Kurosawa wasn’t dead yet.

The Hyakki Yagyō hadn’t arrived yet either. There was only this one Kurosawa entity before them.

“…Is that why you came? Even if you need to find Ms. Kurosawa, you must have time to spare?”

That’s what Souta said.

And this time, he didn’t wait for an answer.

Instead, he placed his blood-covered hand on Kurosawa’s shoulder.

So that their blood would meet.

Firmly gripping Kurosawa’s hand that was stuck in his stomach, to prevent it from being knocked away this time.

*

Souta wasn’t sure how to explain this sensation.

It felt like his thoughts were intertwining with someone else’s, like they were looking at each other with different bodies but weren’t actually seeing what was right in front of them, but rather something much further away.

Souta took a step forward in that indescribable space.

“Ugh!?”

He raised his hand to shield his face.

It was ominous.

All he could see was Kurosawa’s face right in front of him. Kurosawa, frozen with that cracked smile.

Someone was shouting desperately beside Souta. They seemed to be trying to push him sideways to separate them, but Souta and Kurosawa’s bodies remained firmly stuck together, not moving at all.

So, Souta’s eyes were open but in a closed state. That world of mental images was invisible to Souta. He could only look at Kurosawa’s fixed face while taking one step forward at a time.

A flame that felt like it was burning his entire body. Moving forward with only his mind burning wasn’t an easy task.

“Why?”

There was a voice whispering in Souta’s ear, louder than Yuka’s voice.

A voice similar to Kurosawa’s but slightly different.

“I wonder why you go to such lengths.”

“……”

Souta hesitated to answer within that heat.

He wasn’t certain. Whether he could continue enduring this pain. Whether he could face whoever was beyond the flames, whoever Souta was sensing.

But, the answer that came after that hesitation was:

“Because she’s a kid who wants help.”

That was his answer.

“She came looking for help, didn’t she? How could I refuse when there’s a kid right in front of me asking for help?”

Suddenly, he thought of Shii. Because Shii was like that too. A child right in front of him who needed help. A child reaching out for help.

If Souta had just ignored her, he might have had an easier life. He might still be getting along well with his wealthy father, and might not have needed to work part-time jobs after school.

But then, all the happy memories he had while living with Shii would never have existed.

It was the same with his memories of Kurosawa.

If he had ignored those sounds of bullying and walked past, he wouldn’t have gone through all this. He would have passed by without knowing who Kotone Kurosawa was.

But what could he do? Souta had responded.

And he had created various memories with her.

He didn’t want to leave her as just a memory occupying a corner of his mind.

The reason he couldn’t give up was because there was a possibility of finding her.

If helping would actually help, how could he not reach out to a close friend?

So Souta moved forward.

“That blood.”

The fake Kurosawa whispered.

“That blood which can mix without losing reason, surely—”

“Souta!”

But that conversation couldn’t continue.

Jingle.

A sound was heard, and

Suddenly Souta’s lungs filled with air. His chest, which was already aching here and there, began to hurt terribly.

In that pain, he unconsciously removed his hand from Kurosawa’s shoulder and looked up.

Someone was standing beyond the window.

“That would be troublesome.”

That someone beyond the window said.

In their hand was a small bell.

Jingle.

Each time the bell was shaken, a clear sound rang out. With each sound, Souta’s consciousness, which had flown far away, returned.

Ironically, the person shaking the bell looked very similar to someone who was in the inner room right now.