“Things have become a bit troublesome.”
The person resembling Kurosawa’s mother said with a smile.
The reason I hadn’t thought that the resemblance was complete might be because Kurosawa’s mother didn’t seem to be in a very good situation.
The person beyond that window seemed like they hadn’t been imprisoned for long, nor were they skin and bones. That beautiful face with white skin was captivating enough to make anyone passing by look twice.
In their fingertips was a jingling bell.
Sota had seen something like that once before. The bell that Yuka held while wearing shrine maiden attire during her offering. It looked like they had taken just one from there.
Clink.
The bell rang, and Kurosawa’s body slowly rose from the spot.
And while looking down at their hands, they folded and unfolded their fingers as if checking their functionality.
“Kurosawa.”
Sota said.
Things were getting hazy up front. Could it be from losing too much blood?
“……”
Kurosawa, who had been staring intently at their hands, looked over at Sota.
There was curiosity in those eyes.
It wasn’t a look of panic or fear. Just pure curiosity.
No matter how this world flowed, it almost seemed like they couldn’t care less about what would happen to the body they were using.
Sota tried to rise from his spot. But his body wouldn’t cooperate. There were too many bruises and scratches, making it hard to tell where the problem lay that prevented him from getting up.
It hurt.
But he didn’t want to give up.
If he let go here, it felt like he would lose everything.
Without even fully understanding what he would lose, Sota stood up.
“Sota.”
Yuka called out gently, placing her hand carefully on Sota’s arm. The tip of her finger was trembling.
“…… What is your purpose?”
A rough voice came from Sota’s throat.
“Why are you after Kurosawa…….”
“When you say ‘Kurosawa’, I’m not quite sure who you’re referring to.”
The woman who said that chuckled softly, heh.
“Um, was that a boring joke?”
“……”
Receiving Sota’s gaze, the woman tilted her head and spoke.
“We are just people trying to do something good for the world, you know, like most religious folks. You have already met us once, haven’t you? We owe you a lot from that time, so no need to worry. We don’t plan on repaying you.”
The person resembling Kurosawa quietly observed Sota, tilting her head.
“However, we did do our homework on you, and it’s still quite fascinating. Chasing yōkai aside, to think you can oppose the power of gods like this.”
Kurosawa was now looking at their own nails. It seemed they weren’t very interested in this conversation.
Sota glanced sidelong at Kurosawa and stepped toward Kosuzu.
“Ah, please don’t come any closer from there.”
Kosuzu said.
“I can discern what is dangerous and what is not. Right now, I don’t think your blood feels very favorable to me.”
As she said that, Kosuzu extended her hand forward.
Jingle.
The bell rang once more.
“Well, I guess you can’t even come this far.”
Clank, something made noise against the floor.
The first to move was Yuka.
Yuka dashed toward Sota. Sota was knocked to the ground by her force. His already aching body screamed.
And then, finally, Sota saw it.
A small shard of glass on the floor, trembling as if something had stepped on it.
Something was coming inside. Something invisible.
Yuka gripped the sword tighter and swung it. But—
Thud, a loud crash sounded, and Yuka’s body swayed to the side.
Seeing the glass shards clinking on the floor again, Sota sensed something dangerous.
When he regained his senses, he was already surging forward with a scream. He didn’t even know how he was moving so much despite his injured body.
He collided with the invisible something.
Sota couldn’t do anything about it. Fighting against an unseen yōkai bare-handed was impossible for him.
But even so.
Blood stained that transparent yōkai’s body.
Yuka, who noticed it first, jumped up, grasping her sword, and rushed toward the yōkai.
“———!”
Somewhere on the yōkai was cut by Yuka’s sword, and a chilling scream echoed out.
Sota slipped away from the yōkai’s grip and rolled on the ground. Something came into view once again.
It was the red sword that had fallen earlier.
Sota launched himself toward it with all his strength.
He felt the cold touch of the metal at his fingertips. He grabbed it and turned his body toward Yuka.
And with fervor, he pierced the back of the invisible monster.
“————!”
Once again, an ear-splitting sound erupted.
For just a moment, he held on to hope. Maybe this attack would work after all.
“If such a thing could die from that, I wouldn’t have brought it here.”
The woman resembling Kurosawa said, and Sota spat out blood from his mouth.
“Sota!”
Yuka wasn’t doing much better. Her visible wounds were fewer than Sota’s, but she was already bleeding from her mouth. Was it internal injuries?
Yuka held on stubbornly. Yuka’s grandfather had also shot arrows multiple times. But—
“It’s getting a bit boring now.”
Kurosawa muttered as they stepped forward.
For just a moment, Sota thought that Kurosawa was coming toward him. But Kurosawa simply pulled out the sword that Sota had embedded.
“Ugh….”
Sota struggled to breathe, whatever it was wrapping around his neck. When he felt his neck, he could only tell that something like a tentacle was coiling around it, with blood spreading over it.
Kurosawa glanced up at Sota, who was floating in the air.
“Mm.”
After thinking for a moment, they smiled slightly.
“I think it would be best to let these kids go.”
Without waiting for a reply, Kurosawa continued.
“I think I know why you came to this world.”
“……”
With Kurosawa’s words, Sota dropped down, thudding onto the ground.
His body was already wrecked. There wasn’t a single part that didn’t hurt, making it impossible for him to get up.
Even so, as Sota squirmed in an attempt to rise, Kurosawa leaned slightly down to look at him.
“I hope you wouldn’t try too hard. You’ll probably want to meet this kid again, anyway.”
Sota barely rolled his eyes to look up at Kurosawa.
Kurosawa turned back to glance at the woman outside and then looked back at Sota.
“Regardless, as long as that kid’s plan continues, I don’t think it’ll matter much whether I leave you alive or not.”
“……Why…….”
Leaning against the wall, unable to stand, Yuka asked.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Um.”
After thinking for a moment, Kurosawa opened their mouth.
“This one is still a child.”
Kurosawa said.
“No matter how long one lives, in the face of eternity, everyone is still a child. When a child is playing, there is no need for a reason.”
Kurosawa smiled brightly.
“It seems I’ll let you live too.”
With an expression that Kurosawa would never have shown, they looked down at Sota.
It was a gaze that seemed like they were both mocking and anticipating something.
“It’d be more fun that way. I’m curious about what expression you’ll make when you see the child that was in that vessel at the very end.”
Then, as if to dance, Kurosawa walked gracefully further into the room.
Something heavy and ominous followed behind.
Sota knew well where that direction was. A room that could barely be called a storage room, cluttered with talismans stuck nothing less than a door.
Inside there was Kurosawa, in a room with the only family of Kurosawa Koto Ne.
The door to that room was pitifully torn apart, as if the red sword had left behind blood stains dividing the door in half.
An explosion occurred inside. It was as if it was a last resort for defense, and all existence outside was caught up in that explosion.
And that was all.
Kurosawa’s clothes fluttered violently, but that was it.
A loud noise came from inside. It sounded as if something was struggling against it.
And soon it fell silent.
The Kurosawa who had screamed so much earlier was eerily quiet now.
Sota strained his blurry eyes to see there. He tried moving his hands to get closer.
But.
“Y-You….”
Kurosawa’s mother asked timidly, frightened.
The sound of contact was pitiful.
Kurosawa bent down toward Kurosawa’s mother, almost as if to greet her.
And with both hands cradling her cheeks, she whispered softly.
“Mom.”
In such a gentle voice.
“……Koto Ne?”
Kurosawa’s mother asked dazedly.
And seeing that appearance, Kurosawa laughed.
Realizing what was beyond her finally, Kurosawa’s mother screamed again.
The wails of a mother who could do nothing to stop her daughter from being like that were desperate.
That was the last memory Sota had.
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