“Dealing with you once and for all, Mr. Kamiya.”
His words were blunt. Dealing with Kyousuke once and for all—committing a new murder inside an institution meant to rehabilitate murderers—he said it as though it were nothing.
“…Wha—?” Kyousuke’s mind drew a blank. The pack of murderers in school uniforms approached him with insanity in their eyes and deadly weapons in their hands. Confronted with such a sight, Kyousuke found he couldn’t move a muscle.
Shinji kept him fixed with expressionless eyes. Involuntarily, he’d begun to tremble. “Well, then, won’t you please show me, Mr. Kamiya? Show me your skills as the Warehouse Butcher, that is. Killer of twelve…how many of us do you think you can kill in the end, hmm? Heh-heh-heh.” Again, he smiled broadly.
“Kyousuke Kamiya! Just shut up while we end you!”
Brandishing a gleaming butterfly knife, Oonogi fumed with rage.
With Shinji abstaining, eleven murderers rushed at Kyousuke.
“Bwah?!”
The right straight punch, thrown with all his might, caved in the side of his opponent’s face. Knocked into the copse of trees and spraying a mix of spittle and blood, Oonogi skidded to a stop, unmoving.
Bracing himself against the momentum that threatened to pitch him forward with the force of the follow-through, Kyousuke surveyed the scene, breathing hard. It had been maybe ten minutes since the fight had started. However…
“Hah…hah…,” Kyousuke panted, hands on his knees. “This…is…less of a big deal…than I thought…huh…?” Catching his breath, Kyousuke raised the corners of his mouth into a bold grin.
Among the eleven murderers who had attacked him, only one remained, cowering on the ground, holding his uninjured left arm and making a fuss. “Calm down! Hush now, Azrael! This…this bastard, when he gets too excited, his power explodes…! Grraaahhh!!”
The others had already had their fill of violence at Kyousuke’s hand. Not one of them lying there even so much as twitched. Without exception, every one of them was out cold, eyes rolled back in their heads.
Looking around at his miserable comrades, Shinji held his forehead and sighed. “What useless boys they were! I mean, really… Or maybe I should ask, Mr. Kamiya: Are you some kind of monster? That this many people still failed to kill you is, how should I say…highly abnormal.” He practically spat the words, glaring at Kyousuke with rage.
“I’m no monster…,” Kyousuke answered. “You’re all just too weak, you murderers.” His uniform and hair were in unbelievable disarray. Countless lacerations of various sizes crisscrossed his skin, and blood stained his clothing.
It was nothing serious. The sheer number of cuts looked like a big deal, but most of them were nothing more than scratches. Even his fading strength would probably soon recover, fueled by adrenaline and violent momentum. To Kyousuke, who had walked away from any number of fights in the past, trouble like this was barely trouble at all.
They may have been murderers, but when it came to a fight, these boys were total amateurs. Kyousuke couldn’t help but laugh. Is that it?
“…Well? What now? There are only the two of you left, Shinji!”
“Two of us? …Ah. You didn’t bother with this useless idiot, hmm? But come to think of it…” Looking past the other boy, who was still talking to his own left arm, Shinji grew quiet. Then, biting his lip, his head hung down, his shoulders began to shake. “…Hee…! Hee-hee…! Eh-heh-heh…! Hee-ha…! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!” Scornful laughter burst forth from his crescent mouth.
Both Kyousuke and the boy who was holding his left arm looked at Shinji in confusion. “…What’s so funny?” Kyousuke demanded in a low voice.
Shinji immediately halted his loud laughter and raised his head to face Kyousuke. His expression, filled with joyful arrogance, caused the chill of a bad premonition to run up Kyousuke’s spine.
“What’s so funny? Heh-heh…! Of course it’s funny…heh-heh-heh! I told you already, didn’t I, Mr. Kamiya? You said, ‘There are only the two of you left,’ but, you see, Mr. Kamiya…” Shinji narrowed his eyes. His gaze did not fall on Kyousuke, but rather on the scene behind him.
“Ah, shit… Oww! You really got me, Kamiya…I’m definitely gonna wreck you!”
“Hee-hee-hee… You really hit me. Even my dad never hit me that hard…hee-hee-hee…”
“I won’t forgive you. Iwon’tforgiveyouIwon’tforgiveyouIwon’tforgiveyou…ever!”
Several of the other students had recovered and once again clutched weapons in their hands, expressions filled with bloodlust.
Shinji sneered, stifling the laughter in his pale throat.
“As you can see, you have yet to kill a single one of us! I’m beginning to wonder if you really have it in you, Mr. Kamiya. And you’re supposed to be the butcher of twelve? Heh-heh-heh.”
“……?!”
Shinji had hit the bull’s-eye. Kyousuke wasn’t the Warehouse Butcher…he was nothing more than an ordinary person, and he had no intention of killing his opponents. Even if he felt like he wanted to kill someone, Kyousuke hadn’t committed murder—he couldn’t.
Shinji’s smile intensified as Kyousuke ground his teeth in frustration. “…Well, what will you do? You’ll be killed if you continue on like this!”
Even the boy on the ground holding his left arm, perhaps inspired by Shinji’s rhetoric, began to work himself up into a frenzy, saying, “Hmm…so you finally calmed down, Azrael. You’re such a troublesome fellow. Well, then, bite at him to your heart’s content! Fwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!” In his other hand, he hoisted a nail-studded bat.
Surrounding Kyousuke now were five boys altogether, including Shinji. Most of them were wounded, but the murderous rage in their eyes was just that much stronger for it.
With a slight, unconscious flinch, Kyousuke spit out his fear along with his saliva and glared at the boys surrounding him. “Of course…of course, I don’t have even the slightest intention to kill you assholes! But…I also don’t intend to be killed! If there’s anyone here who thinks they can take me out, give it a try!! With scum like you, half a killing is plenty! But until you lose the ability to stand up on your own, I’m gonna whale on you—”
Interrupting Kyousuke’s angry shout, Shinji reached into his blazer, fishing for a weapon of his own.
“Oh, is that so? Well, then, why don’t you go ahead and do that…hee-hee-hee!”
From an inside pocket, he pulled a crude revolver.
“Eh?! G…a gun?! Are you serious…?” The absolutely unexpected sight of a firearm sapped all of Kyousuke’s hot-blooded energy in an instant. Kyousuke had walked away from many fights, but this was the first time he’d ever had a gun pointed at him.
Shinji leveled the pistol at Kyousuke with both hands. “Of course, I’m quite serious, Mr. Kamiya! The friend who so kindly acquired this weapon for me, along with the rest of us here, all of us…we all earnestly intend to kill you!” Shinji cocked the hammer with a loud click. “I’ve been able to stack the deck a bit in my favor, you see! In the unlikely event that we fail to finish you off, we’re all facing pretty serious discipline, so we really have no choice.” He glared at Kyousuke with bitter, steady brown eyes.
“……”
If I don’t escape, Kyousuke thought, but he couldn’t turn his attention away from the revolver. As if engulfed by the darkness of the gun barrel, the inside of his mind was shrouded in the deep black of despair.
“That’s a nice face, Mr. Kamiya… You’re probably tired by now, too, right? So I’m going to make it easy for you. Death is an eternal rest, you know.” Shinji sneered, pink gums visible. “If you were a girl, I would give you the honor of violating you after strangling you to death with my own hands, but…so sorry, eh? Hee-hee-hee!”
Behind Shinji, the dense copse of trees was shrouded in shadow despite the daylight, and the gloom seemed to symbolize the darkness filling the gang’s murderous hearts. Well…this is it. I’m going to die here. For a moment, in the darkness tha
t contracted and expanded as the trees swayed in the wind, Ayaka’s image floated up in his mind.
“Well, then, good night, Mr. Kamiya…sweet nightmares!” His face cold and cruel, Shinji moved his finger to the trigger.
“…Just die.”
A figure burst from the shadows of the trees, little more than a blur of movement, closing on Shinji faster than the eye could follow.
“…Don’t move.” Quickly and gracefully, the figure was upon him, its left hand covering his mouth while the right pressed against his throat, ready to take him down. The long, supple fingers were tipped with beautiful scarlet nails. “If you move, I’ll kill you… I’ll crush your throat in. Now, be a good boy, and give me that revolver.”
Shinji stiffened, eyes open wide. Kyousuke and the other murderers stood dumbfounded, bewildered at this sudden development. With everyone’s eyes on her, restraining Shinji from behind, was—
“That goes for you, too, assholes. Nobody move…if you value this guy’s life, that is.”
She wore a uniform with a short skirt and a rust-red wavy ponytail. Squinting her eyes, the same color as her hair, she seemed more displeased than usual.
“Wh-what…why are you here—Eiri?”
“…No reason. I only came to check out the situation. Speaking of which, why are you here? And why haven’t you killed anybody?” Her voice sounded more irritated than usual. “Covered in so many wounds…you’re the Warehouse Butcher. Just what are you waiting for? Why should I have to bother…?” She clicked her tongue in displeasure.
Shinji seemed to finally realize who exactly had him by the throat. His eyes, wavering with shock and agitation, regained their composure in a twinkle. “Heh-heh…now, please don’t embrace me without warning, Miss Eiri… Don’t you think I might get excited? Your fingers are chilly, and they feel so good… Tell me, how are mine?” He tossed the revolver away, and his now-empty hand crept toward Eiri’s exposed thigh.
“Move another centimeter, and I’ll slice you to ribbons.”
She pressed one of her nails into his skin, drawing bright red blood.
“……?!”
Catching his breath, Shinji stiffened once again. The crowd of murderers was tense with fear and anticipation. She’s unarmed, so how did she—? Eiri laughed scornfully at her bewildered spectators.
“…Hmph…amateurs. A lethal weapon only has value so far as it can be concealed. Kill without letting your target know of its existence until the final moment. Each and every one of you prepared an ostentatious weapon… Haven’t you ever heard of a surprise attack? A truly lethal weapon would be… In the moment you realize it’s a weapon, just as soon as you realize it’s a weapon, once you’ve realized it’s a weapon, you’re already dead. Like my nails.”
Eiri’s nails. Her nails were beautiful, with a foundation of bright red polish, ornamented with multicolored rhinestones and Swarovski crystals, the pointed ends bordered with black. Bordered with—black-luster steel.
“Suzaku fingernail blades. Ultra-thin, miniature Japanese blades attached to the tips of my fingernails. They can slice right through wood, plastic, and of course flesh and bone as easily as butter. Three fingers on each hand, index, middle, and ring finger, wear these tiny blades. Six in all—that’s my deadly weapon.”
Eiri’s eyes, which were now wide open, gleamed like naked steel. Sharpened to a diamond edge, they were the crystallization of her sheer, murderous will.
The bewilderment that had spread among the murderers turned to shock—then fear.
Eiri Akabane. She was a slasher who had killed six people, the true top of the class.
This was the first time that Kyousuke had seen her terrible glory with his own eyes.
“…Do you know why I’m telling you about my deadly weapon before I kill you? It’s because showing you my weapon before I kill you is, in a way, a warning. I’m giving you a second chance. Though I’d be happy to just slash you right now… Keeping my nails so pristine can be a real pain. If you swear not to come near us again after this—I’ll overlook this for you this one time.”
Eiri glared at them, murder flashing in her coppery-red eyes. The boys encircling Kyousuke seemed to falter slightly at the sight of her bloodthirsty gaze.
“H-hey…what do we do?” “Are those eyes for real?” “Gyaaah?! My left arm…” “But there’s only one of her.” “Plus it’s a girl.” “Plus, hee-hee, she’s so flat chested…hee-hee-hee.”
A restless light glistened in Eiri’s eyes. “…I see. Then, I’ll start by killing this one. First, I’ll push my finger into your kidney area. A lot of nerves are gathered there, so this will hurt so badly you’ll wish you were dead! You’ll convulse with intense, gut-wrenching pain, and once your body collapses and you’re pinned to the ground, I’ll slit open your belly for you…cutting open your skin and tearing through your flesh, shaving off your fat and slicing up your bones, churning up your internal organs—”
“I g-g-get it! Please stop! I’ll do as you say, so stop!” Shinji cried, interrupting Eiri’s dispassionate monologue. All of the color had drained from his face, and it seemed like the rest of his murderous entourage had lost their nerve as well.
Eiri smiled in satisfaction as she delicately traced a finger from Shinji’s throat down to the side of his abdomen, just where his kidney would be.
“…Ehh, is that so? Well, that’s fine if you get it, but only if you really do get it. After all, you’re a cowardly fool who can’t do anything more than torment helpless prey, so… Hey, you guys! Pick up those idiots sleeping over there, and get out of here. Once you’ve done that, I’ll let this one go… Now, get lost!”
No one dared defy Eiri’s orders. Discarding their weapons and shouldering their unconscious comrades, they ran away as fast as they could. As he was leaving, Oonogi spat out a reckless parting remark. “I…I’ll remember this, tiny tits!”
But Eiri just glanced at him and snapped back, shaking her fist, “Tiny tits are the best! Cutting boards reign supreme! A cups are seriously great!” An instant later and he was gone with the rest of them.
Her anger beginning to dissipate, Eiri let out a small sigh as she kicked the revolver away. “…Well, that happened. Now you disappear, too. Never start something with me again, Shinji, you laughable pervert. I don’t want to sully my perfect nails with your filthy blood.” With that, she kicked Shinji square in the back as hard as she could.
“Gyah!!” Shinji pitched forward from the kick, falling awkwardly to all fours. With his head hung low, the boy’s expression was not visible. Was it fear or something closer to shame—? His body trembled slightly. His grasping fingers dug into the dirt on the ground.
“Heh…hee-hee…hee…ha-ha…fwa-ha-ha…” Eerie laughter echoed up from Shinji’s still-bleeding throat. “I understand, Miss Eiri…I will never again meddle in your affairs. Only…” Slowly standing, Shinji turned to face Eiri again; his sick smile was so wide that it threatened to tear his face apart. “Please remember this very well. Going forward, if you should happen to die, Miss Eiri…I will be putting my hands on you! Like flies and hyenas, I will sniff out the scent of death and do just as I please with your body once it has become a corpse…heh-heh-heh.”
“……”
“Until then, good-bye. So that I might rush to your side at the moment of your death, I will always be sniffing around… Won’t you please remember that very well, Miss Eeeiri?” Leaving his words to linger like the promise of a curse, Shinji turned on his heels and calmly walked away.
Glaring at the retreating rapist, Eiri snatched the revolver up off the ground and, with one hand, casually aimed it at Shinji’s back. “You’d better die before me… Bang.” She pretended to pull the trigger, then shrugged. Her harsh, half-lidded eyes, as always, seemed to take no heed of the words Shinji had left behind…
Kyousuke was once again reminded that Eiri was one person whom he absolutely did not want to have as an enemy.
“…Tch. You’re pathetic, Kyousuk
e. Don’t fall apart.” Eiri advanced toward where Kyousuke sat leaning against the wall of the gymnasium. Mindful of her hidden blades, she pushed her hair back using her thumb and pinkie finger and looked down at him sternly.
“…So this is our top-of-the-class murderer? What a joke! Never mind twelve people, you didn’t even kill one. If you’d wanted to, you should have been able to take out any number of them, so…why?”
“Uh, well…that’s, you see—”
I want to, but there’s no way that I can answer her truthfully. Even less so after he had found out Eiri’s secret to success as the Scarlet Slasher. Kyousuke kept silent and averted his gaze, and Eiri let out another sigh.
“…You’re difficult to understand, you know that? You’ve killed twelve people, and yet, in a strange way, you’re charming. This time, you didn’t bother to tell us honestly that you had been called out… And you even made up an excuse to get away. You were acting strange, and when I secretly came to see what was going on…you were going to go and get yourself killed. It doesn’t make any sense…what was that about?” Kicking at the dirt with her toes, Eiri prattled on in irritation.
Yet Kyousuke searched Eiri’s face for any indication that she had been worried about him. Her half-lidded eyes were only sleepy, and he detected none of the sharp bloodlust that had been there a short while ago. Like a sword returned to its scabbard, she had completely returned to being normal Eiri.
A girl who, while appearing sullen, in reality was always worrying over other people. He understood her far less now after seeing her behave as the Scarlet Slasher. Why would Eiri act this way—?
“I may be strangely charming, but aren’t you just the same way? You’re a cutthroat who has murdered six people, and on top of that, you fuss over using the blades on your nails to kill. Why did you take it upon yourself to come save me? And not just me, but Maina, too. You’re always meddling in one thing or another! In the end, you threatened them, but you didn’t kill anyone, either.”
Murderer in the Flower of Death Page 14