Demon Sword
A Yuyu Hakusho/Rurouni Kenshin Crossover Fan Fiction Story by Chester Castañeda
Original Concept by Chad Yang
Here's a short Natsuki Shinkai flashback on how she met Likka Ikumi before we move on to the major story arcs.
Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV, and Studio Pierrot. Rurouni Kenshin is the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Shonen Jump, Viz, Sony Studios, Fuji TV, Studio Gallup, Studio Deen, and ADV. This disclaimer also covers all the other copyrighted material that are far too many to mention here. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.
Chapter 33: Red Rose in the Darkness (Part 1)
In 1992, a year ago in the Shinjuku Yamabuki High School...
"I would like everyone to meet our new transfer student, Shinkai Natsuki. Would you please introduce yourself, Miss Shinkai?"
With a toss of her hair and a swivel of her hips, Natsuki turned towards the gathered people in her class. She wrote her name on the blackboard, bowed to the students, and introduced herself.
The plump yet Bodhisattva-like teacher cleared her throat. "Is there anything you want to tell the class about yourself, Shinkai-san?"
"Ah, I'm from Taiwan. My mother is Japanese, so I'm half-Japanese," she added while keeping her expressions as neutral as possible. She afterwards heard whispers around her.
"Ah, so she's a foreigner. She's quite fluent in Japanese for an outsider."
"It's because her mother is half-Japanese, dummy."
"No, she's half-Japanese. Her mother is wholly Japanese."
"She has such cold, sharp eyes! I wonder if she's a communist."
"That's the other China, you idiot! And eyes have nothing to do with what you're accusing her of!"
"Eh. She looks nothing like what I'd expect a Chinese girl to look like. Where's the pidgin Japanese or her huge jugs?"
"I think I'm in love."
"What's with the cane? Does she have a limp leg or something?"
"She looks like the aloof, cool type, isn't she?"
"I wonder if she can do kung fu."
She cursed her gift of good hearing under her breath. Mouth-breathers. The whole lot of them. It didn't matter, though. Going to school was nothing more than her way of keeping up pretenses. She had bigger fish to fry later on, after school was over.
"Well anyway, you can sit at the back near the window, Shinkai-san. I hope you enjoy your stay here in Japan. I wish you the best of luck studying here in our humble school," declared the teacher.
As she walked back to her designated chair, the cat calls and the leering came. She bit her lip and did her best to avoid those glances toward her.
"I don't know about you, but I like her eyes. They're like cat's eyes, aren't they?"
"Although it's strange for her to wear a maitre d' outfit to school, doesn't she still look like a pop idol or something? A cross-dressing pop idol from Taiwan, even."
"Yeah, yeah. She's like a Takarazuka actress! Once she's older, she'd make the perfect Oscar Francois de Jarjayes, I'd bet. What's with that cane she lugs around, though?"
Takarazuka? Oh yeah, her mother told her about that. The Takarazuka Revue was a Japanese all-female musical theater troupe in Takarazuka, Hyogo. Because they were all-female, all the male roles or otokoyaku were played by women too.
Jeez, was the simple decision of wearing pants, a shirt, and a vest automatically make her a crossdresser? Were all schoolgirls required to wear skirts or sailor suits in Japan, even in a school where there was no such dress code?
"I know what you're saying, man! Doesn't she look like that blonde crossdresser in that fighting game? The one where, if you defeat her, her shirt rips open and exposes her bra?"
"Because she's Chinese, I was expecting more of a Chun-Li type of female."
"What? You're expecting her to wear a cheongsam and deliver you noodles or something? That's stereotyping!"
"Er, you're the one who came up with the noodles part, not me."
"She's like Guanyin, isn't she? She can pass off as a decent man or woman."
Guanyin, incidentally, referred to the merciful bodhisattva with different genders depending on the region.
"She's wearing pants. That's so lame. How can we know the color of her panties if she doesn't wear a skirt?"
"You're not supposed to know the color of anyone's panties anyway, pervert!"
"She might not have much in terms of headlights, but check out her trunk."
"Careful, she might be playing for the other team, if you know what I mean."
Natsuki groaned. Wasn't it a highly prized Japanese virtue to endure hardships with grace, dignity, and poise, otherwise known as having "gaman"? Didn't they value people who were patient enough to bear the unbearable and unpleasant in an act of self-sacrifice rather than actually bothering to change the status quo?
Well, tough shit. She was only half-Japanese, and she had just about enough of toughing things out in an act of martyrdom and (what she saw as) socially accepted self-abuse.
With a tap of her cane, a snappy turn of her head, and a death glare of contempt at the general direction of her sexual harassers, the buzz around her died instantly. Even her teacher shivered and looked away from her gaze.
The beauty of the two-year-old (barely) Yamabuki High's credit-based system was the lack of permanent desks because students had to individually accumulate credits and they weren't separated by class or by year at all. The part-time nature of the school, the adjustable schedule, and the lack of uniforms was another plus for her and her nightly excursions.
Like everyone back in her previous schools in Taiwan, they would be avoiding her from then on, probably labeling her as the standoffish loner of the class. She didn't care. She didn't come to Japan to make friends or even further her studies (except maybe for the Japanese language). That was the way she wanted it.
He was there in Shinjuku. He was still up to his old tricks. That devil might have gotten himself a new alias, but the stench of his crimes still reeked of his foul odor.
The Kanji Killer was what the Japanese newspapers called him. On one hand, she needed to freshen up on her kanji. On the other hand, weren't Japanese kanji and Chinese characters essentially the same?
No, wait. Even though kanji was imported from China, the original meaning of the letters and even how they were structured were totally different.
She knew the symbols, but they were all used differently in Japan, so she had no choice but to learn (or re-learn) them regardless. It was worth it, though, if only she could read up more on what that bastard serial killer had been up to.
As she took her seat, lost in her thoughts, a rumbling noise echoed across the hall and made the nearby glass windows shake in place. She awoke from her musings and glanced at what was making all the commotion.
"I'M SORRY I'M LATE!" screamed a schoolgirl from... another school? She actually bothered wearing a sailor fuku, so it was only natural for Natsuki to presume that. Maybe this new girl got her schools mixed up and...?
The late arrival scanned the room from left to right. Everyone's sweat-dripping heads were all bowed. Their eyes were closed. Several of them sighed. There was something resigned about those moans.
Natsuki caught murmurs of, "She's here," and "Oh boy," from under the breaths of several of her classmates. No one else but her appeared off-put or startled by the presence of the diminutive, braid-haired girl before them. Her teacher frowned.
'What's with this mood? You can cut a knife through all this tension.' Natsuki squirmed in her seat as realization collided with her as hard as that strange woman did with the classroom door.
'Wait a minute. They know that weirdo, don't they? They're pretending she doesn't bother them, but they totally are! Is this the true essence of "gaman"?'
With an exhale that halfway turned into a snort, the Buddha-like teacher asked, "Is this how it's going to be for the whole year, Ikumi-san? Anyway, go to your seat before you get into even deeper trouble."
"My bad, teach! My bad." The sailor-suited girl bowed repeatedly at both her teacher and her gathered classmates before she remembered something. "Say, aren't I going to stand out in the hallway with buckets?"
"THIS ISN'T AN ANIME!"
"Oh, I know that song! Wasn't that from one of those old Gundam shows? I saw that when I was in elementary!"
The teacher rubbed the sides of her temples and growled to herself. Uneasy snickers were had by the rest of the class, as though this "Ikumi" girl's entrance was a normal occurrence.
"...Anyway, this isn't the Seventies. We don't let kids nowadays stand in the hall anymore, because they'll just play hooky or something. Go back to your seat before I mark you absent."
"YES, TEACH!" assured Ikumi as she weaved through the cluster of chairs and perspiring, flummoxed students.
A dread chill ran through Natsuki's spine once she realized whose empty seat was right beside her. The girl with the sailor uniform plopped down on her chair with a stupid, openmouthed grin on her face.
That was the first memory Natsuki Shinkai had of Likka Ikumi.
Around the time Math Class ended, in between classes...
"AH! I've never seen you in class before! WHO ARE YOU?" the sailor-suited Ikumi belatedly screamed as the people around them started leaving the classroom or stayed there to eat their bento lunch.
Natsuki discovered that she had more "graceful endurance" from her mother's side of the family than she first realized, seeing as how it kept her from planting her face onto the ground as a response to Ikumi's late reaction.
The class wherein Shinkai was introduced to everyone ended hours ago and they'd been sharing subjects all that time, for goodness's sake.
"You didn't end up going to the wrong school by mistake, right?" asked Likka, which made Natsuki's mouth turn into a flat, even line as she stared at the braided, fuku-wearing moron with gaping eyes. That should've been her line.
She turned towards Ikumi and cleared her throat, realizing that aside for an oral exam, she hadn't really talked much the entire day. "You're Ikumi-san, aren't you? I'm Shinkai Natsuki. I'm a transfer student from Taiwan. It's nice to meet you."
"Er, likewise! My full name's Ikumi Likka! You can call me Likka-tan!" she introduced herself with a smile, a pose, and a peace sign. What was wrong with her?
"Wait... Likka-tan? What's with the 'tan'? I'm not familiar with that honorific, Ikumi-san," confessed Natsuki, which surprised even her. Who cared what "tan" meant?
"Oh, right. You're from Taiwan. You only know basic things like 'san', 'chan', or 'kun', right?" Likka puckered her lips and tapped her finger on it while Natsuki gave her a tart look reserved for when one sucked lemon slices. "Actually, "tan" is just the cutesy, baby-talk version of "chan", so don't worry too much about it."
"Okay. So that's what it is." Natsuki nodded to herself before crossing her arms, raising an eyebrow, and retorting, "The better question is why would I call you 'Likka-tan'?"
Natsuki's answer resulted in the opposite effect of what she was going for, because the short schoolgirl before her that she swore belonged in middle school instead of high school beamed at her with sparkling eyes and what she could only describe as machine-gun chortling.
'What is with this conversation? Does she enjoy getting rebuffed by people or something? Is she some sort of masochist?'
"Oh, don't look so blue. And don't be so shy! 'Ikumi-san' sounds so formal, like we don't even know each other! Everyone in this section calls me 'Likka-tan' anyway, so it should be okay... Right, guys?" Likka turned towards her classmates for confirmation.
A halfhearted drone of "Sure," "Yeah," and "Why not?" from the nearest people around the pair commenced.
The bright-eyed Likka turned towards Natsuki with a toothy grin. "See?"
Natsuki rolled her eyes. "Yeah. We've been best friends for such a long time. How rude of me to not refer to you in a cutesy, baby-talk manner, Likka-tan."
Likka giggled some more. "I'm happy you feel that way, Tsuki-chan!"
'What's so funny about what I said? Is she making fun of me? What's her problem?' Natsuki deliberated to herself before becoming aware of something annoying. A vein popped up on her forehead. "TSU-TSUKI-CHAN?"
"Yep. Isn't it a cute nickname? I just came up with it on the spot!"
"HEY! Don't decide things on your own!"
"O-ho! For a foreigner, you sure do know a lot of stock Japanese phrases! As expected of Tsuki-chan!"
"Don't talk like you already know me for a long time! And stop calling me Tsuki-chan! I have nothing to do with you!" fumed a blushing Natsuki even as her image of being an unapproachable ice queen shattered in front of the twenty or so students who witnessed the spectacle she was making of herself.
"What? You mean you're not a mysterious transfer student that will turn out to be my magical girl rival, my future self, a secret agent, an antagonist in disguise, or a time traveler sent to undo a terrible future catastrophe?"
"...What?" Natsuki had no comeback for that; none whatsoever.
She heard laughter from one portion of the classroom, particularly the portion occupied by reclusive nerds with thick glasses who had their noses buried under school books and manga.
"Oh, you really are a foreigner, aren't you?" Likka patted Natsuki's head like she were her pet. "It's like I'm talking to an alien."
'That's my line!' Natsuki again said that stock Japanese phrase to herself, this time in Mandarin Chinese. What a meddlesome girl indeed.
A couple of days later, outside the school campus late in the afternoon...
"Let's walk home, Tsuki-chan."
"No. Leave me alone, Ikumi-san. Don't you still have classes?"
"Yeah, but I can get back to them in no time. Walk with me."
'Just what I need. A schoolgirl stalker.'
Natsuki wished that she could say that this was the first time this happened to her and she experienced nothing of the sort back in Taiwan. Oh, how she wished she could say that. 'Maybe I should start wearing girlier clothes instead of cross-dressing.'
She had already tried losing Likka's trail by making round trips in the JR Line several times (and wasting a lot of money in the process), hoping that as the weeks passed by, the fashion-sense-deprived Ikumi would take a hint. The idiot never did.
Likka smiled from ear to ear, her outfit for the week a ganguro ensemble minus the orange tan, clown makeup, and dyed hair. Natsuki wondered if the neon outfit could actually glow in the dark. "Don't worry. I promise to only walk you to the train station. Nothing more."
'Liar. You can't fool me twice.'
"Oh, don't give me that look, Tsuki-chan."
Natsuki quickened her pace. It didn't work the last time she tried shaking off Likka, but that didn't mean she should stop trying altogether. "Aren't the Japanese supposed to be considerate to other people's feelings? Hint, hint."
Likka considered Natsuki's words. "I'm not all that Japanese, according to our classmates. They've always asked me whether or not I've spent some time in the states or if I'm half-American or something. I could never figure out why. It's not like I can speak English, own a gun, or have a fondness for pizza."
'It's your pushiness they're referring to, you clueless, bigoted bimbo. Your pushiness! Where's your sense of delicacy?'
"Kuuki yomenai"; that was the Japanese term that kept appearing in Natsuki's mind whenever Likka was around. It literally meant someone who couldn't "read the air", but a more precise translation would be someone who was clueless at comprehending social situations and understanding what was going on.
Likka seriously had no idea when it came to reading the mood. Didn't she get it? Natsuki didn't want to be her friend. She should just leave her alone.
Sadly, none of Natsuki's attempts at subtlety or Japanese-style nonverbal communication worked on the "blunter than a baseball bat" brain of Likka Ikumi.
Something occurred to Natsuki. Since Yamabuki was a credit-based school, then perhaps she could take classes that didn't include Likka there? No, that wouldn't work. It seemed that Ikumi was enrolled in every class possible. The girl exemplified Japanese perseverance in all the wrong ways.
Natsuki slapped her forehead and rubbed her face with her palm. 'What am I thinking? My schedule is already perfect. I can sleep in until late morning, go to school, and take care of business in the evening. Why should I adjust all of that for some stupid, nosy girl?'
"Uh, Tsuki-chan? Do you practice kendo?"
Natsuki averted Likka's eyes. "N-No. Why do you ask?"
"You did some pretty nifty exercises with your cane around lunchtime. It's too bad Yamabuki High isn't all that sports-oriented. The closest thing we have to extracurricular activity is the drama club. You would've totally clobbered some of the boys in our class with your slick, stabbing moves. Then again, they're all nerds, so..."
"Please stop following me, Ikumi-san."
"Eh?"
"It's for your own good." Natsuki proceeded to sprint towards the opposite direction, leaving the shocked, pseudo-kogal in the dust.
Inside one of the many classes that Natsuki and Likka shared...
The people around Natsuki gasped as she entered her classroom. Thankfully, their teacher hadn't arrived yet.
Reactions ranged from people averting their eyes from her as though they were drug pushers in a police lineup, while others stared at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as if she came to school without wearing clothes.
Still others appeared like they had something to say, but of course Natsuki didn't give them the time of day either, glaring at them until they left her alone. They should mind their own business. What she went through had nothing to do with them.
Murmurs began spreading. Speculation ran rampant. She couldn't care less.
"Check Shinkai-san out, man. Wow."
"Was she in a car accident? That has got to hurt."
"Whoa. Do you think she 'fell down the stairs' or something?"
"Maybe it was her boyfriend...?"
"I thought Likka-tan was her boyfriend. Or maybe she's the boyfriend in their relationship..."
"Her pimp did this, I'm sure."
"Shut up! She's not a teen prostitute, you know!"
"...You don't know that."
"Does she do compensated dating? I could totally picture an old dude doing that to her in order to keep her in line."
"You gossip worse than a girl, you know that?"
"It could be worse. She might be a drug runner or something."
"She totally knows martial arts. I saw her doing warm-ups with that metal cane of hers."
"Maybe she's a Hong Kong movie stunt double? I know she's underage, but..."
"Hey, she lives near Shibuya, right? Maybe she's, like, one of those delinquent girls with gang connections."
She flinched as she sat on her chair, squeezing her eyes tightly until tears came out of them. She didn't dare wipe them or touch her face, though. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that her teacher for this class wouldn't ask too many questions about her appearance.
It must've been a rougher night than she first believed, if she was getting such reactions.
Natsuki's head shot up in attention as she heard someone bang his or her chair beside hers. She turned in time to see Likka... who was wearing casual clothes that stood in stark contrast with her typical, more audacious wardrobe... glowering at their buzzing classmates before facing her with a more sympathetic expression.
"EH? Tsuki-chan, did someone beat you up or something? Did you owe them money? Have you called the cops? My brother-in-law is a police officer, you know. You look like you were hit by a truck! You can barely open one of your eyes! You're even wearing shades!"
'Stupid, blunt Likka-tan.' In fairness to her needlessly forthright and unwanted friend, she immediately shut everyone up. For what it was worth. To Likka, Natsuki begged, "Please drop it, Ikumi-san. I don't want to talk about it."
Likka gasped before lowering her gaze and nodding. "Okay."
For once, the energetic, costume-obsessed girl complied with Natsuki's request to leave her alone, which startled the Taiwanese national a little bit. 'Huh. So she does have a tactful bone in her body. Color me surprised.'
The rest of Natsuki's fellow classmates followed suit and dropped the subject as well by keeping their murmurings about her to themselves instead of making stage whispers that tried her patience. Then again, she did pick up "gang connections" and "daughter of a Triad member" from the buzzing drone.
Yes, she could've called in sick and avoided all the speculation and averted gazes. Deep down inside, she knew exactly why she came to school that day: To get it over with. They were going to know about her true "extracurricular" activities sooner or later. Also, it didn't hurt that her actions today should help get that clingy Likka off of her back once and for all.
There was a risk of concerned parents requesting that she get removed from the school, but if that were to happen, then she'd simply transfer to another school under a new alias. She was used to being the new kid in school every single time. The most her classmates could ever do to bully her was whisper behind her back anyway, like annoying insects. It wasn't like they could beat her up or anything.
Regardless of all those future developments, Natsuki couldn't help but feel something probe at the back of her head as their teacher for the hour entered the classroom, did his roll call, asked her why her face was all beat up (which she answered with a trite "I fell down the stairs," excuse), and proceeded with his lessons on Japanese history.
'Ikumi-san's totally staring at me. Jeez. Leave me alone already.'
Natsuki's battle-honed sixth sense was in full force as she felt Likka's constant glare bore twin holes through her already throbbing skull.
What was with her? She'd never seen a Japanese person so pushy before. Weren't the Japanese supposed to be thoughtful to other people's feelings and sensible enough to leave things be?
This was the kind of pushiness the Japanese would complain about or use their "gaman" or whatever to gracefully bear through it. Hell, even in Chinese, Taiwanese, oriental, westerner, or international terms, she'd be considered bothersome.
'Stupid Ikumi Likka-tan.'
It had only been a week, but as Natsuki expected, her classmates had begun avoiding her like the black plague under the not-so-incorrect belief that she was bad news. She couldn't blame them either. Most of the student body was composed of computer nerds and drama geeks; their only worries consisted of getting dates or acquiring enough credits to graduate.
Stories and rumors about her supposed run-ins with the law in Shibuya, Harajuku, Kabukicho, and even Ginza (she never actually went to Ginza, although it only took thirty minutes by train from Shinjuku to get there) spread across the school, especially during the days when she was forced to go absent because of the severity of the injuries she suffered from her investigations within the seediest places in and around Shinjuku.
'That's bullshit. The fuzz never caught me. No one did. Hell, I'm even helping them clean up the streets.'
Crime wasn't rampant in Tokyo in general and Shinjuku in particular... reported crimes, at least. However, that didn't mean they didn't actually exist altogether. For quite sometime, Japanese citizens were quite proud of their country's low crime rate... to the point of complacency, even.
Sure, there were crazy isolated instances like the little girl serial murders of Tsutomu Miyazaki or the Otaku Murderer from 1988 to 1989 and the 1981 cannibalistic murder of Renee Hartevelt by famous Japanese cannibal Issei Sagawa. However, such incidents were few and far between, plus Sagawa's crime occurred overseas, in Paris (he even became a minor celebrity once he came back to his home country).
It wasn't until the Sarin Gas Attack on the Tokyo Subway that would occur in March 20, 1995 that Japan's "delusion" of domestic safety and a virtually crime-free society was shattered. It was, after all, the most serious attack to occur in the country since the Second World War.
With that said, she was impressed by the theories her classmates came up with from what little they knew. Sightings of her by them or by "a friend of a friend" of theirs in red-light districts like the aforementioned "Sleepless Town" of Kabukicho didn't help her reputation any.
Idle gossip about her ranged from her being sold as an underage sex worker at a local soapland to her starring as an extra in sadomasochistic Pink Films, outside from the usual speculation of her being an illegal Taiwanese immigrant turned prostitute or a daring foreign exchange student engaging in Enjo Kosai (schoolgirls dating older men for cash).
Curse her sharp hearing abilities indeed.
The fact that she first learned what a soapland (an English word coined by the Japanese to describe a brothel where women washed men's naked bodies a la a Turkish bath) and Pink Films (softcore pornographic "art" films that were all the rage in the Seventies and Eighties) were from her classmates instead of through her actual nightly escapades of beating up uncouth Triad members in Kabukicho depressed her to no end.
What were Japanese schools teaching the Japanese youth nowadays? For computer nerds and theater geeks, they sure knew a lot about soaplands and pink films. 'Now that's what I call Japanese cultural studies.'
Why did she pick a technical course school anyway? Oh right, she wanted to learn how to use a computer to further aid her search for the Kanji Killer. 'Too bad my kanji reading still sucks.'
The bottom line here was she'd been inevitably marked with the Scarlet Letter thanks to her little exploits against the scum of society, and she didn't have the luxury of an alter ego to hide her activities. No Bruce Wayne. No Peter Parker. No Clark Kent.
It was just as well. The last thing she wanted to do was to involve her innocent classmates with her problems. It wasn't as if she'd be staying there in Shinjuku after she'd finally found the traitorous bastard that ruined her life. Those were the thoughts that occupied her mind as she went to school early in the morning.
Like a robot, she moved towards her shoe locker, picking up her indoor footwear and leaving her outdoor shoes behind. Indoor cloth-and-rubber footwear or "uwabaki" was something Natsuki had never seen or worn in the Republic of China. She first knew about them from the stories her mother told her about Japan, when she was young.
Having special lockers dedicated to them that double as unofficial mailboxes also felt surreal and redundant to her. What was wrong with using the same shoes in and out of campus? If people were that concerned about dirt from the outdoors, then they could just wipe it off a welcome mat or something, right?
Speaking of which, whether it was a prank or not, she used to get love letters sent to her shoe locker. That came to a quick and decisive halt after rumors of her being a Kabukicho gang member, a sukeban or girl delinquent, or a teenage prostitute with a violent pimp spread like wildfire within Yamabuki. It was just as well; she didn't know how to handle romance anyway.
"Tsuki-chan! Good morning!"
That woke her up from her daze. "Oh. It's you, Ikumi-san."
Natsuki half-expected the braided girl to don clown shoes, yellow overalls, white makeup, and a red wig. Likka instead opted to wear the "librarian" ensemble of thick glasses and sweater vests. 'I should stop thinking about what she's wearing.'
"How's your eye?" asked Likka as she surveyed how far Natsuki's wounds had healed. "Looking good! You can now open it all the way."
"Can I help you, Ikumi-san?" asked Natsuki as she stood beside the shoebox and gripped her indoor footwear. "Make it brief, or we're going to be late for our classes."
"Well, I was wondering..." began Ikumi as she struggled opening her locker. She then hit herself on the nose with the metal door. What the hell? Was she pretending to be the kind of bookworm that was clumsy as well? 'She watches too many anime series for her own good!'
"Owie!" Likka exclaimed with tears in her eyes while rubbing her sore nose. She then beamed at Natsuki. "Ah, you're finally smiling!"
Natsuki insisted, "No, I wasn't. It's your imagination."
"...You shouldn't take what people are saying around you too seriously, Tsuki-chan. They just like to gossip about things they have no idea about," blurted out Likka.
"I don't really care all that much about what they say behind my back," admitted Natsuki. "Like you said, they don't know better."
"Ah, but I'm sure that if you were to talk to them and they got to know you a lot better...!" Likka further claimed as she slammed the door to her shoebox until it opened at will.
"There's no need. It doesn't matter what they think."
Natsuki blinked when she saw a cascade of (what she presumed was) love letters fall from Ikumi's shoebox.
That surprised Shinkai. The impression she had of Likka was that she was the type of girl that annoyed boys with her honest, stupid weirdness. "You're a lot more popular than I thought."
"Ah, but the only letters I get are from the really hardcore otaku because I've dressed up as anime characters before." She blushed as she stuffed the different letters back into her shoebox while retrieving her own uwabaki.
'Oh. Otaku, huh? Well, I guess that makes sense, since she's a girl who's also obsessed with anime,' thought Natsuki.
Likka added, "Besides which, they're wasting their time. I already have someone that I like."
Ah. Crushes. How adorable. Natsuki vaguely wondered what that was like before putting her shoes on and telling Likka, "Let's go, Ikumi-san."
"Don't you have a crush, Tsuki-chan?"
"No, and don't call me that."
"Aw. But I'm already used to calling you Tsuki-chan. Natsuki-san... even Natsuki-chan... sounds so impersonal! Tsuki-tan, meanwhile, is a bit excessive, although I'm not against us to be on a first-name basis! Yobisute is the way to go, Natsuki!"
It was going to be one of those mornings again, wasn't it? Yeah, it was, Natsuki reckoned.
She then remembered her friends back in Taiwan prior to her migration to Japan to find a certain Triad Dragon Head who'd been going back and forth Taiwan, Shanghai, Tokyo, and the rest of East Asia for his miscellaneous criminal activities.
Likka blathered, "It's really amazing how you're able to keep up with your studies despite the fact that you're from Taiwan! I did notice that you've been having trouble with kanji, though, which is understandable."
Natsuki had been living in a group home in Taiwan. She'd been a preteen runaway at the time because she wanted to escape the hellhole that was her life. In the group home, she was the happiest she'd ever been since her mother died. She had friends there; people just like her.
She didn't want to think about what that man had been doing since losing his mind, blaming the KMT for her mom's death. She didn't want to think about him at all.
She didn't care what he'd been doing during his trips abroad, or the reports of a Kanji Killer on the loose that the police could never capture because the culprit suddenly left Japan after every murder.
She soon regretted her inaction. In order to get her back, the man's goons told her to come with them or they'd burn the group home down.
She did as they told her to in order to protect her loved ones, only to learn later on that the home "mysteriously" burned down anyway due to a "gas leak". The caretakers there were ruined, and several of the kids... her friends... died.
She struck back the only way she knew how. She wanted to kill those who were responsible, but she instead used her head and struck them where it hurt the most... their pockets.
Using knowledge only someone from a Triad family member would know, she intercepted their shipments of drug money for about a year, learned how to beat up all the thugs tasked to deliver them, and used the cash to go from one school to another until she gathered enough funds to get a one-way ticket to Japan and pay for her apartment in Shinjuku, where that man probably was.
Even though she didn't murder the Triad members who killed her group home friends, she was not-so-ashamed to admit that she felt a small measure of satisfaction in knowing that these people were executed by the Triad itself for their incompetence.
She also had the help of several traitorous Triad members whom she paid off to keep quiet about her little heists. She was already set for life, but that didn't matter to her. What she had was blood money anyway.
At any rate, that man had to pay. She couldn't turn a blind eye over his crimes or existence any longer. As long as he was alive, he'd forever find ways to ruin her life. Most importantly, she could no longer risk having anyone get close to her.
To keep her Taiwanese classmates from getting involved with her the way the people in the burned-down group home did, she needed to push them away. The same thing should be done to all her Japanese classmates. It was for their own good.
"If you like, I could help you out with that too..."
"...Why?"
"Beg pardon?"
"Why do you keep trying to talk to me? Every goddamn day, you're here. Can't you take a hint? I'm not interested. Don't you get annoyed by your own actions? LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"..." said Likka with moist eyes and furrowed eyebrows.
Now Natsuki did it. She wasn't blind. She knew that the overenthusiastic girl was only trying to be nice. Nevertheless, this was for her own sake.
She let out a quick, "Excuse me," before scurrying off, afraid of what else her occasional classmate might say next.
No matter where she went, she was always alone.
The two didn't talk for quite some time after that. Likka didn't try approaching Natsuki since then and the half-Japanese girl never bothered approaching Ikumi own out of her own volition. The only thing the Taiwanese immigrant could see of the cosplay girl nowadays was the back of her head that never turned or looked her way.
Natsuki's mother had long ago taught her daughter the proper Japanese phrase for such a situation: "It can't be helped."
Natsuki's unintentional rudeness was a "mixed blessing in disguise", she decided. For one thing, avoiding Likka was a lot easier now that the "cosplay" girl actually lent a helping hand by not forcing anymore hellos, goodbyes, or small talk between them whenever they were in the same room.
On Natsuki's part, the talk about her and her extracurricular activities outside high school ceased as soon as her face healed up. She now made it a point to either wear a facemask (which didn't help in refuting the sukeban accusations at all) or a ski mask when she went out collecting information around the seedier parts of Shinjuku. Either that or she simply made sure to only get bruised in places that were easier to hide save for health examinations.
The other students started to avoid her more and more, just like she had expected from the beginning. Even Likka did at that point. It was barely a week, and she'd already lost her connections to the students of the credits-based school she attended mostly out of convenience. She couldn't talk to a single one of them.
Natsuki looked at her reflection in the window beside her. What stared back at her was some glassy eyed, sallow-skinned, hollow-cheeked abomination that had no business being in high school.
What the hell was she doing there? Sure, she rationalized the need for learning Japanese, using technology, and having a realistic cover while staying there in Shinjuku as a Taiwanese transfer student, but was it all worth it?
She viewed the people before her as children. They probably never even held, much less fired, a gun in their entire lives. They had their futures ahead of them. She didn't. She shouldn't be interacting with them at all.
Then, one day, a vision of a smiling Likka flashed at the corner of her eyes, but as soon as she turned, all she saw was Ikumi's lengthy braided hair bouncing behind her as she joined several of their other classmates who were also headed home.
"Likka-tan! Can you go with us together? You're the only one we can depend on!"
"Oooh, sounds cool! Where do you want to go?"
"Well, we always wanted to buy our own computers, but we were too afraid of all the weird otaku hanging out in Akiba."
By Akiba, the girls meant Akihabara, which was Japan's very own Electric Town. It was called as such because it served as a major shopping area when it came to computers and other types of quality electronic goods. They even sold robots and robotic prototypes there, and not just the toy variety.
Natsuki herself wanted to get one of those fancy computers for herself so that she'd have an electronic means of saving all the data she'd collected regarding the Kanji Killer. Too bad she was too busy beating up thugs and getting her info the old-fashioned way at present.
She didn't really mind the fact that Akiba was also home to otaku goods and Japanese subculture. She'd already faced down Triad members and yakuza, so why the hell would she be afraid of a couple of creepy anime and manga fanboys? It took a lot for her to get creeped out, especially after everything she'd been through.
"But otaku are harmless! They're more pitiful than dangerous! You shouldn't take those news reports about the Otaku Murderer too seriously! Not all otaku are like him!" said Likka aloud before spotting a couple of otaku covertly sneaking away from the classroom.
She waved at them. They weakly waved back.
Say what you will about Likka; at least she didn't backtalk anyone.
"Please? You're the only one we know who isn't afraid of otaku! You go to Akiba for all your costumes, right? So you're more used to being around otaku than we are!"
"W-ell... I guess I could help you out. Us girls should stick together!"
"Really? Thank you so much! This really means a lot!"
Yeah, let's go! I'll ever wear my ninja girl costume to scare off any potential stalkers and whatnot!"
"Er, yeah. You do that, Likka-tan."
And so the trio was off. And Natsuki didn't even get a goodbye from Likka. It was as if the Taiwanese native didn't even exist.
Not that Shinkai wanted the cosplaying freak to bid her farewell or anything. It was just that the way Likka acted so angrily about what was essentially Natsuki's usual sarcastic jibes didn't make a lick of sense to the half-Chinese girl.
"Oops! Sorry, girls! I forget my bag! I'll be right back!" Natsuki heard the girl that currently inhabited her thoughts say to their two otaku-phobic classmates. Sure enough, her bag truly was left in her seat.
Wordlessly, Ikumi sauntered over the chair and grabbed hold of her forgotten shoulder bag.
Before Natsuki realized it, she'd whispered to Likka while her back was turned, "I need to talk to you, Ikumi-san."
Likka froze for half a minute before moving again, not once facing Natsuki.
The hell with it. Natsuki tried calling out to Likka, but the latter wouldn't listen no matter how many times she beckoned, "Ikumi-san!"
"Ikumi-san!"
Likka slowed down a bit as Shinkai screamed louder.
"Ikumi-san!"
Likka then quickened her pace again. Natsuki then realized they were alone in the orange-tinged classroom, the sun setting from behind them, turning everything that reflected the sunlight into gold.
"Likka-tan."
That caught Ikumi's attention.
"I'm sorry if I said something insensitive last week."
This time around, Likka just stood there for over a minute. Shinkai then heard the cosplayer murmur back, "I'm sorry I got upset about something so shallow."
The short-haired Chinese girl then saw the braided Japanese girl smile back at her. "See you tomorrow, okay? Tsuki-chan?"
Natsuki nodded. "Yes. Iku... Likka-tan."
The young Ikumi's subsequent toothy grin was so bright, it could've been weaponized. "I know what we're going to do tomorrow! I'm going to teach you Japanese kanji!"
Her mother told her that an extended cry of "...Eeeeh?" was the appropriate Japanese reaction to such a situation.
A couple of days later, after a particularly grueling Japanese Language Exam...
"Why? Why did I get lower grades in languages than before, when I didn't study kanji with you?" asked a bemused Natsuki.
"I'm so sorry!" Likka bowed so low, Shinkai could see her scalp.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. In order to learn more about the Kanji Killer, she obviously needed to learn more about the Japanese language as well as all the written information pertaining to him.
Too bad Likka got worse marks in Japanese writing, grammar, and comprehension than even she did.
"You're full Japanese, aren't you? How is this possible? Why didn't I improve? Why did I get worse test scores?" Natsuki asked, still amazed by the turn of events.
To herself, she queried, why was she doing this? Wasn't she endangering Likka's life by letting her get too close for comfort? What was she thinking?
Likka answered, "I overestimated by Japaneseness and underestimated my dumbness. Sorry."
"...Why am I so surprised you failed the Japanese language test? 'Japaneseness'? Really? I don't even think Japaneseness is a word!"
The two looked at each other for a moment before grinning like idiots and laughing their hearts' off.
"Likka-tan, you're so dumb!"
"I guess I am. That's one of the most hurtful things I've ever heard, but why am I still laughing, Tsuki-chan?"
"I don't know. Why indeed? Why would you offer help to me on one of your worst subjects, you dummy?"
That was when Likka's laughter stopped. "Okay, okay. You're crossing the line again. Fine, I'm a bimbo! Don't rub it in!"
"Why?"
"'Why' what...? Why am I a bimbo?"
"No. Why are you doing this?"
"Are we on that subject again? Haven't we talked about this enough?"
"Seriously. Why do you keep trying to make friends with me? What do you see in me anyway? There's nothing remotely redeeming about me. Why do you try so hard to be with me every time?"
She imagined herself palming her face in shame. She really did sound like a foreigner. Why couldn't she relay her thoughts in a clearer manner?
"You remind me of her."
"...Who?"
"My older sister."
"W-Wow. Really?"
"She was married to this cop who was also our butler... long story... and she really has a way with words, let me tell you. She'd say the cruelest things in the subtlest manner possible."
"She sounds absolutely terrible. How were you able to cope with such a sharp-tongued sister?"
"I know, right? Well, she also loved me very much. She didn't show it through words, though. She was terrible with words. She drove my brother-in-law insane. The poor guy couldn't even tell what sarcasm is."
"How did she show you she cared?"
"Simple things. She listens to me. She was there for me. She protected me from bullies. Pointed out immediately when I'm being an idiot. Kind of like you. You say one thing, you mean another."
"You know what? There are times when I don't even know what I mean."
"Yeah, well, learning a new language can be quite tough..."
"I don't want to hear that from you. You don't even know how to write or speak your own language properly!"
Natsuki would later know the truth behind Likka Ikumi's (late) sister and Daiji Matsudaira's wife, Itsumi Matsudaira (nee Ikumi), who incidentally served as the third confirmed victim of the Kanji Killer she'd been hunting down all this time.
At Mushiyori City, the day after the Kenshingumi and the reincarnations of Aoshi Shinomori and Yutaro Tsukayama staved off the Shin Ju's second major Tokyo attack, in the evening...
"Gentlemen, it's been a while," said Kurama at the four people gathered in the park that sported a large hole on the ground that led directly to the Irima Cave.
This sinkhole was caused by an explosion of energy after Koenma's Mafuu Kan failed to seal Shinobu Sensui up thanks to the rogue spirit detective's Sacred Light Ki powers.
Just as Kazuma Kuwabara had promised to him, he gathered the three friends who gave the Reikai Tantei trouble during the Chapter Black Case: Asato Kido, Yu Kaito, and Mitsunari Yanasigawa.
Kurama could've asked Genkai for information regarding the three, but it turned out that she was too busy overseeing the rebuilding of her temple to be of help at the moment. This was why he chose to have the (over)eager Kuwabara help him out instead.
Kurama seemed to have made the right decision, in light of Kazuma slowly but surely mastering his teleportation technique. This allowed him to halve distances and generate temporary space-time tears reminiscent of Mukuro's own powers.
In other words, Kuwabara's powers enabled him to create portals and bypass long distances in an instant.
"It took me all afternoon, but I did it, Kurama," said the wheezing, tuckered-out Kuwabara. "I gathered all three of these bozos at this park at seven o'clock sharp."
Kurama chuckled. "No, you didn't Kuwabara-kun. You gathered the three just now. I saw the portal you made close from behind you, and I had your house tapped with Ground-Elder Plants and my Parrot Grass."
"Well, those two friends of Kenshin, Tweedledum and Twidledumber, had me occupied! It took me a while to get them kicked out of my house, the freeloaders!" said Kuwabara, referring to Sano and Yahiko. "Anyway, I still got the Three Stooges here, didn't I?"
"What happened? One minute, I was playing some video games with my girlfriend, then the next minute, boom! I'm here in the middle of Mushiyori Park! What gives?" asked a disoriented Kaito.
"Yes, Kaito... we get it. You have a girlfriend. Like you've told us a million times. Jeez..." snapped the yellow-haired, sallow-skinned Kido. "Can you believe this guy, Yana?"
Yanagisawa blinked and scratched his purple, broom-like hair. "Er, Kido... I also have a girlfriend."
"No, you don't! I remember you howling about you couldn't stand using your powers to make some girl named Takamatsu yours. If you did, then I'll tell you on her!"
"Jeez, relax, dude. Cool down. Now who said anything about Takamatsu-san being my girlfriend?" said Mitsunari. "I'm talking about another girl altogether."
"No way! That tomboy with the short hair? I thought you two were just friends!" exclaimed Kido with tears streaming from his eyes.
Yana blushed. "Leave her alone. I found out she had feelings for me when she accidentally touched my bare shoulder and transferred her memories to me."
Incidentally, the powers that Yanagisawa gained after his exposure to the opened-up Gates to the Demon World enabled him to acquire the appearance, memories, abilities, and DNA of whomsoever he touched.
Had Yana used his powers on his original crush... the beautiful Takamatsu... he could've used her secrets to make her his.
He had no such ill-intention against his short-haired, tomboyish best friend, but when he found out she had a crush on him, all bets were off. That was the springtime of his youth right there, unusual circumstances be damned.
Kaito smirked while pushing his glasses up his nose, his eyes covered by their glint. "I guess some of us have it and some of us don't, Kido-kun."
The fact remained that Kido... who was stood up on his most recent date (and he was too polite to ask why)... remained the only one of the three comrades who didn't have a girlfriend. His politeness had limits, though (and was only reserved for girls anyway). He started with Yanagisawa.
"So you ended up using your powers to bag yourself a woman after all, Yana. Whatever happened to your promise to never use your powers to take advantage of a girl's feelings, hmmm?" needled Kido.
"Not cool, Kido! It's not like that!" defended Mitsunari while averting Asato's accusatory glare.
Meanwhile, Kido continued, "As for you, you afro-sporting, pimple-faced nerd, I remember you let slip that the first year high school neighbor girl that's been staying at your house hasn't really confessed her love for you in direct contradiction to what you initially implied!"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about! I'm sure Natsuko loves me very much," said Kaito as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping the bullets of sweat that formed on his forehead.
"...So you don't mind me asking her if you really are a couple?" asked Asato with a self-assured, cat-ate-the-canary grin plastered on his face.
"All right! Sheesh! You win! Don't tell her anything!" said Kaito as he raised his hands up in surrender and rolled his eyes. "Seriously, do you really need to bring people down to your level just because you don't have a girlfriend?"
"I don't want to hear that from you, Four Eyes!" retorted Kido.
The bespectacled teenager around Kurama's age had in fact not been confessed to (yet) by Natsuko, so the nature of their relationship was still up in the air (although most anyone who knew them presumed they were dating anyway).
The adorable Natsuko (not to be confused with Natsuki Shinkai), who was presently attending Meiou High (the same high school that Kaito and Kurama graduated from), had so far been Yu's girlfriend in every way except in name.
Kaito wanted to ask her out sooner or later, but even he had to admit that he felt a bit complacent by the kind of relationship they had now. He didn't dare ruin it by asking her out and having her dump him because he misunderstood her intentions, as cowardly as that might appear.
"All right, kids. Play time is over," said Kuwabara as he grabbed the three amigos by the scruff of their collars and ushered them towards Kurama's direction.
"Kurama wants your help again, because as usual, the Spirit World is facing yet another powerful asshole bent on ruling and/or destroying the world, blah, blah, blah... Hey, Kurama. Explain to them who the Chojin is, because even I haven't the faintest who that's supposed to be."
"Thank you, Kuwabara-kun," said Kurama as he turned around to address the bickering allies. "Like I said... It's been awhile."
"Hey, Kurama," said Kido. "How are Yusuke and the others doing?"
For all his insecure bluster in regards to his single status, Asato had achieved something few others have; he'd actually "defeated" Yusuke Urameshi in a one-on-one fight, albeit through the use of his power to paralyze people whose shadows he stepped on.
"He's... okay," said Kurama. He couldn't go into details in regards to the fact that Yusuke's girlfriend, Keiko Yukimura, had ended up in a coma because of a jaki-powered curse on her soul by a former enemy of theirs.
"Well, I see Carrot Top is still doing well," chimed in Yana while Kuwabara patted his bizarre hairstyle.
"It's nice to see you too, Guile," joked Kuwabara.
"Yo, Minamino!" greeted Kurama's former classmate, Kaito. "I'm guessing this is quite important, since Genkai herself told us to never use our powers ever again unless it's for a life-or-death emergency."
"Yes, it is," said Kurama while holding from behind him some sort of wrapped-up object. The half-youko proceeded to brief the three in regards to the threat of the Overfiend as well as an abbreviated list of attacks perpetrated by the Shin Juppon Gatana and Dai Shin Kan forces.
"You mean those gas leak explosions around Shinjuku and Shibuya were you guys fighting zombies all along? Far out, man," said Mitsunari with a low whistle.
"Of course that was them! Remember when the news talked about how strange 'atmospheric phenomenon' were happening around Tokyo two years ago, like the flood that came out of nowhere? That was them too!" pointed out Kido, referring to the time when the Nether World attacked both the Spirit World and the Human World.
"So you need our help, huh?" concluded Kaito as he scratched his chin. "I'm not sure how much help we can offer, because you guys are by now used to dealing with Class-S demons and monsters reminiscent of H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos or the Book of Revelations. Are you sure you're asking for help from the right guys?"
"Don't sell yourselves short. You, Kaito, are capable of producing a territory that forbids violence. Even someone as powerful as the Younger Toguro or Sensui would have problems escaping it. Meanwhile, Yana can shapeshift into anyone he touches while also acquiring their memories and personality. Finally, let's not forget Kido, who was able to freeze a Class-A Yusuke just by stepping on his shadow. You are all quite gifted in your own right."
"Let's cut to the chase then, Kurama. What do you want from us?" asked Kido.
"Yeah, I'm kind of curious about that too, Kurama," added Kuwabara, his arm crossed and his back leaning against the very same tree that Hiei was sleeping on during the time Yusuke was first kidnapped by the trio before him.
Kazuma chuckled to himself when he remembered Botan using a special supersonic whistle (kind of like a dog whistle) to call forth the jaganshi, only for him to end up just a few yards away from them, deafened by the noise from the ferry-girl's Reikai item.
"Before I do that, I'd like you to meet someone," said Kurama as he brandished the lengthy bundle he'd slung over his shoulder and unwrapped its cloth bindings.
"Huh? I don't see anyone else but us hanging out here in the park, man. Is he late?" asked Yanagisawa.
"My apologies, it isn't just us four who's here," declared the former youko as he brandished the sheathed Youtou Shinnoken or Demon Sword and imbued his aura upon it instead of wielding it outright, like the first time he received it from Koenma Daio.
Soon enough, the red-haired, cross-scarred silhouette of Kenshin Himura... known during his Bakumatsu heyday as the Strongest Manslayer and infamous among the Chojin's ranks as Battousai the Demon-Slayer... emerged from out of nowhere, like a genie in the bottle (with the Demon Sword serving as his "bottle").
"Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Himura Kenshin, the Guardian of the Demon Sword. Kenshin, these are Yanasigawa Mitsunari, Kaito Yu, and Kido Asato."
"Oh, I haven't met these spirit detectives before," said Kenshin as he bowed politely at the three Mushiyori residents. "It's an honor to meet you guys. I'm Kenshin, the Guardian of the Demon Sword, which is an important Spirit World artifact."
"Likewise, samurai dude," said Yanagisawa as he offered to shake Kenshin's hand, but the ex-rurouni declined, stating, "I'm already aware of the nature of your powers thanks to my bond with Kurama."
"Ah, I've been found out." Mitsunari chuckled while Kuwabara shook his head at the youth with the punk hairstyle. 'Nice try, Brush Head.'
"Oh, don't misunderstand. I don't mind you copying me, but there's no one on this earth I would ever want to walk a mile in my shoes. Be careful was you wish for, because you might just get it," Kenshin smilingly recommended to Yana, which brought shivers down the latter's spine.
"I called you here today because us Reikai Tantei will be facing quite a lot of our former enemies, chief among them Itsuki, the Gatekeeper, whom you've already met a few years back when Sensui Shinobu attempted to link the Human World and the Demon World together."
"How can we forget? He's the demon who indirectly gave us our special powers," said Asato while Yu nodded from behind him.
"Oh, you mean the gay, green-haired yoga instructor who makes portals?" asked Yanagisawa. "Yeah, I remember him."
"Anyway, we Reikai Tantei will soon be targeting one of their supply lines for negative energy, but the group that the Chojin gathered... the Shin Ju... are some of the most powerful enemies we've ever faced, and they have their own special abilities that will make this mission quite difficult to boot."
Kurama pointed towards Kenshin. "Fortunately, the Demon Sword has special abilities of its own. Its most basic skill is to magnify the powers of those who wield it, but it does so in different ways depending on the individual. When Yusuke wielded the Youtou Shinnoken, I heard that they began sharing a bond wherein whatever happens to Kenshin also happens to Yusuke and vice-versa. Meanwhile, when I wielded it, I was able to unite with Kenshin in one mind and body as well as... revert to my old youko self."
"So why not just have you four Reikai Tantei wield it then? Why do you need to call us for help? We've seen you in action. You four are more than capable of handling most any job," queried Kaito.
"The thing is we all have our hands full. Yusuke... has his own problems to take care of, and so do I," said Kurama, conveniently leaving out the fact that because of his exposure to the Demon Sword, he found out that his youko self might actually have a mind of his own and not necessarily supportive of his decision to live life as a human being.
The redhead cleared his throat. "Besides which, we'll also be facing enemies we've never encountered before... Kenshin's enemies from his past as an assassin during the Tokugawa and Meiji Era, to be exact. We have a tough battle ahead of us, and we need all the help we can get."
Kurama beckoned Kenshin, and the lion-haired swordsman offered his sword first to the person who tried shaking his hand, which was Yanagisawa.
"Also, if my suspicions are correct, then the powers you could possibly gain from the Youtou Shinnoken may just be the advantage we need in order to counter some of the things that our enemies bring to the table, like Itsuki's abilities to create pocket dimensions and open portals to different worlds."
Kido shrugged. "I don't get it. What chance do we have against a demon who can travel from one dimension to another."
"Don't be so naive, Kido!" said Kaito with a face-splitting grin and gleaming glasses. "I know exactly what Minamino is planning. As always, you're as clever as a fox. I wish I could've thought up with that idea."
"Well, now... Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Kurama laughed. "We won't know if my crazy plan is going to work until we've seen how the Demon Sword affects each and every one of you. Whatever happens, I hope we can get some interesting results from every one of you. Let our experiment begin."
To Be Continued...
Next: The chase towards Aokigahara.
The Natsuko (Keiko's friend) and Kaito relationship is strictly "fanon" that's being used for the purpose of this fanfic. The bespectacled woman who's with Yu in the manga is probably a different girl from Keiko's friend altogether. She's also possibly Kaito's editor, since he's doing some writing work already as portrayed in that one manga page, plus she's apparently better at fighting games than him to boot.
Heto na,
Abdiel