Supernatural/Anime Crossover: Where Did My Romantic Comedy Go?

Kujo Toru rushed straight out of the house.

They ran wildly down the mountain.

A moment later, the familiar Japanese-style mansion came into his view again.

Light shone from the second-floor window, clearly indicating that Kurokawa Misaki was waiting for his arrival, just as he had said on the phone.

He stood directly next to the iron gate and dialed the visitor's phone.

Almost the instant the sound rang out, the lock on the iron gate was opened.

At the same time, the door to the house was also pushed open.

An elderly man dressed in a black patterned haori stood in the doorway and waved to him.

"Come in, Kujo-kun."

Volume 1: Chapter 129 In short, the advantage lies with me

"Mr. Kurokawa."

Kujo Toru nodded and greeted him.

She then followed him into the room.

The room was exactly the same as when I arrived in the afternoon.

It's still the same simple furniture.

The only difference was that the air temperature was slightly lower.

The soft light from the crystal chandelier bathed the entire living room.

The old man turned to look at Kujo Toru:

"Shall we have some tea and sit down first, or should we go straight to look at that document?"

"I also can."

Kujo Toru responded directly.

A hint of anxiety appeared on his face at just the right moment.

It's like an ordinary high school student who sees something that interests them, is eager to see it, but still forces themselves to follow etiquette.

Kurokawa Misaki laughed, seeing the barely concealed excitement in Kujo Toru.

"I don't think Kujo-kun is in the mood to sit here and wait. It's getting late, so let's just go and see."

With that, he turned and walked toward the stairs.

Kujo Toru quickly followed.

"I just realized it myself, and I haven't sorted it out yet, so I'll have to trouble you, Kujo-kun, to come with me to the study on the second floor. I'm afraid that taking it out separately will make it messy."

"I understand, after all, the information is very scattered. I sometimes find myself doing the same thing when I'm researching these things."

Kurokawa Misaki led the way.

Kujo Toru followed behind him.

The two of them made a thumping sound as they stepped on the wooden stairs.

There were no lights in the stairwell.

The steps are only visible through the light from the living room behind.

Kurokawa Misaki was still talking to him:

"However, when you're looking at it, I hope you can be a little careful. Some of the materials are for the sequel, and it will be a big problem for me if you mess them up."

"Don't worry, I'll be careful, Kurokawa-sensei."

"That's good……"

The old man seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

next moment.

The gleaming blade tip silently pierced his haori.

It aimed straight at Kujo Toru's brow.

fast.

Precise.

smooth.

Under the lights, it resembled both thunder and a rainbow.

Almost before anyone could react, they were already in front of Kujo Toru.

Then it was pinched directly by five fingers.

Hey.

The old man's face turned red.

Muscle contours emerged on the loose skin of the arms.

They are trying their best to move forward.

But the hand gripping the back of the knife remained completely still.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't budge it an inch.

Even if I wanted to draw my sword, I couldn't.

In the end, he chose to discard the knife.

He released the hilt of the sword with his right hand, picked up the bamboo sword that had been specially placed at the bottom of the stairs, and assumed a full-stance pose.

It held itself high and made a strange noise.

Step forward with your left foot.

He chopped down hard.

An unknown power surged from the aged body, and the bamboo sword whistled through the air.

Without any mercy, he struck Kujo Toru on the forehead.

The iconic display of the eight phases of the dragonfly.

Although it wasn't a real sword, its destructive power was still astonishing.

In the practice of Jigenryu, it is common to see opponents suffer broken bones while wearing protective gear.

In a situation like this, if it were a direct hit, even if the person didn't die, they would immediately faint.

Kurokawa Misaki had thought it through very clearly.

Although the real sword was taken away by Kujo Toru, the width of the stairwell and corridor made it difficult to even open one's arms, and there was simply no room to move around.

This is a victory.

Moreover, he was now standing on the stairs, with Kujo Toru below him.

High ground against low ground, this is a double victory.

Since his son passed away, he has been practicing kendo in remembrance of him.

It has been nearly twenty years since then.

The opponent is just a high school student. Even if he has studied kendo, how much skill can he possibly have?

Even though his physical condition wasn't as good, he was very experienced.

This is the third victory.

Ultimately, the advantage lies with him!

His eyes were sharp and piercing.

The sword strikes became even faster.

Then, amidst pebbles, wood chips, and flying dust, a flash of sword light dazzled his eyes.

The tightly bound bamboo sword shattered.

The flying debris sliced ​​his face.

Fresh blood slowly flowed down from it.

The boy stood in front of him, holding a knife.

A shadow fell over him.

It brought a huge sense of pressure to the elderly.

I instinctively took two steps back, feeling a hard touch on my back.

At this moment, Kurokawa Misaki realized that he was already stuck to the wall, with no way out.

He tried to struggle again, but the sharp airflow had already grazed his face, bringing with it a few drops of blood.

clang!

The soft hum of metal.

The real sword, which he had maintained extremely well, sank directly into the wall beside his face.

The sword swayed continuously.

Even a glance is enough to feel the sharpness of the blade tip.

On the wall to the right of Kujo Tetsuya, a grotesque crack had appeared, revealing the hollow interior.

It was more like it was torn apart than cut with a knife.

Limited space prevents you from wielding your sword? For Kujo Toru, that's not an issue.

"Although I had guessed it before, I really hope that my guess is wrong, Kurokawa-sensei."

Kujo Toru stood before the old man step by step, shaking his head:

"No, Kurokawa Misaki is your pseudonym or pen name. You should be called Yomiyama-sensei."

"So you guessed it all?"

"When people are excited, their emotions and subconscious actions cannot be concealed."

Kujo Toru gripped the hilt of his sword with his right hand, staring directly at Kurokawa Misaki:

"You are Miyamiyama Misaki's father, right?"

Yes, that's right.

Now that things had come to this, Kurokawa Misaki readily admitted his true identity.

"That Hirata editor is Kyogoku Natsuhiko, the kendo teacher and club advisor at Yomiyamasaki, right?"

Then, Kujo Toru added:

“I noticed he had calluses on his hands from practicing kendo, and both of you were deliberately avoiding the news reports about Yomiyama Misaki hanging on the wall.”

"Judging from the age, that should be the case."

“Indeed, you are very observant. I had a vague feeling about it this afternoon, and now it seems I was right.”

Kurokawa Misaki sighed:

"That's why I'm thinking of killing you as soon as possible, Kujo-kun."

"You can't do it."

Kujo Toru stated the truth calmly.

It was a bit harsh, but Kurokawa Misaki couldn't refute it.

He had many expectations, but he never imagined that the seemingly ordinary high school boy in front of him was actually a monster capable of tearing apart reinforced concrete walls with a real sword.

"It seems that Kyogoku Natsuhiko is also in grave danger now."

Kurokawa Misaki lowered his head in dejection.