[FFML] [yyh][rk][xover] Demon Sword Chapter 33: Red Rose in the Darkness (Part 1)

[Abdiel]

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Demon Sword
A Yuyu Hakusho/Rurouni Kenshin Crossover Fan Fiction Story
By Chester Castañeda
chester.castaneda at gmail.com
gabriel_gabdiel at yahoo.com
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/223441/
Original concept by Chad Yang
chadjill at ms3.hinet.net
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/56473/

Here's a short Natsuki Shinkai flashback on how she met Likka Ikumi
before we move on to the major story arcs.


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Chapter 33: Red Rose in the Darkness (Part 1)

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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 Natsuki 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 Natsuki, 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 Natsuki (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 Natsuki (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.

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 Gallop, 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.

Heto na,
Abdiel
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