“……”
Eiri raised her eyebrows high, frowned, and kept quiet for a moment. After a brief silence, she looked down at Kyousuke, scoffing. “Huh…? Don’t lump me in with you! The reason I let those guys live was because I decided that just threatening them was enough. I was entirely prepared to slit his throat. Compared to you, who had no inclination to kill in the first place, I’m…different. Mostly, I’m—”
Stopping for a moment, Eiri looked hard at her fingernails. Ingeniously camouflaged, she had kept these deadly weapons hidden until now. Devised solely for stealthy slaughter, her nails were razor-sharp works of art. The fingernail blades, “Suzaku.” They were the culmination of Eiri’s exceptional fastidiousness toward the art of murder.
“I’m no amateur killer—” she mumbled, still staring at her deadly nails. “I’m a professional.”
“…Huh?” Kyousuke clearly had no idea what Eiri was saying. “A professional…at killing?”
“Yeah, that’s right. A hit man. Though in my case, ‘assassin’ is more appropriate. People who kill in the course of some individual event, or who do it as a hobby, those are amateurs. Those of us who take requests and orders to carry out kills are professionals. …That’s why I don’t kill people recklessly. I’m not in the habit of cheap murder, with no reason or significance or profit. Surely you understand that I’m not an amateur, having seen my concealed weapons?”
Closing one eye, Eiri held up her brightly colored nails. It was too refined a weapon for an amateur to wield, but it seemed reasonable that Eiri would use it as a professional. There was one question, however, that needed to be answered.
“Supposing you’re not just a killer, but a professional one—an assassin, as I understand it. At least, I think I understand it… Then, why are you in a place like this? Purgatorium Remedial Academy is a facility for rehabilitating killers, isn’t it? Isn’t it strange that someone like you would be here?”
Eiri grimaced at Kyousuke’s inquiry. “…Hmm.” After standing there quietly for a short while, she sullenly looked away. “…Not particularly. There’s no special reason for it. I just screwed up, that’s all. I was witnessed doing a job by an ordinary person, and I got caught, nothing more. Don’t ask me anything else about it. Okay?”
She glanced at him, glaring with half-lidded eyes.
Kyousuke couldn’t say another word, pinned under that strong gaze.
“…”
“…”
For a short while, a delicate silence descended between the two, alone together in the quiet shade behind the school gym—but it was quickly broken by the chime signaling the end of lunch period and the start of the rest of the day.
“…and that’s the reason for it. And that’s basically what capital punishment is—”
“Sorry I’m late.” The door in the front of the classroom opened with a clatter, and Eiri stepped through.
At the chalkboard, Kurumiya’s smooth writing came to an abrupt stop.
The students’ eyes quietly gathered on the intruder.
“Oh…Eiri,” Maina wondered, her eyes growing wide.
Shinji, Usami, and Oonogi stiffened visibly.
Without bothering to look at them, Eiri yawned softly, facing Kurumiya, who had not moved from her place in front of the blackboard. “…I’m late because during lunch I saved Kamiya from getting killed by these guys and then stopped by the infirmary on my way back.” She threw down the assorted weapons that Shinji and his lackeys had pulled out earlier.
Among them, lying on the podium behind Kurumiya, was Shinji’s revolver.
“Eeeek!! A g-gg-g-gun?!” Maina’s hysteric shriek led the uproar that engulfed the class. Shock, excitement, and confusion… Even among this crowd of murders, it was likely the first time that most had seen a real firearm.
In the midst of the tumult, in a severe voice that demanded attention, Eiri addressed Kurumiya, who had yet to move. “Is it acceptable for such contraband to be circulating among the student body, Ms. Kurumiya? If you happen to have any free time in between disciplining latecomers, would you please do something about this? Luckily, Kamiya wasn’t hurt, but—” Looking over her shoulder, Eiri frowned. “What were you doing out there, anyway?”
Kyousuke’s bandage- and gauze-covered face peeked out from around the door, where he had been watching events play out. “Ah, sorry… Geez, you really have a way of putting things, don’t you…?” Feeling the pressure of Eiri’s reproachful gaze, he turned away.
Talking in that brazen manner, in such a snappy tone…won’t that rub Kurumiya’s nerves the wrong way? With a glance at his teacher, who for some reason had still not moved an inch, not even to acknowledge Eiri’s words, Kyousuke took a timid step into the classroom.
Snap! Like a desiccated bone, the stick of chalk in Kurumiya’s hand shattered.
“…I see. You’ve had your say. Yes, I understand very well.” Crushing the remaining chalk in her hand, Kurumiya turned to Kyousuke and Eiri, a faint smile adorning her cherubic face. “…And?” she demanded in a low, girlish voice. “Is that all you wanted to say?” In the opposite hand from the one that had crushed the chalk, she gripped her menacing iron pipe.
“Eh? Hang on…why are you disciplining us?!” Kyousuke sputtered. “We’re just the victims here—!”
“Yes, that’s right. Now, I’m sure that’s all you have to say?”
Even as Kyousuke began to back away, Eiri took a big step forward, her expression calm. “…Is there a problem? No, of course there’s not,” she answered in her usual nonchalant voice. Kurumiya’s eyebrows twitched. “Kamiya is late because he was almost killed by other students, the fault for which lies in the failure of you teachers to provide proper supervision. If you’re going to discipline someone, you should start with those assholes who attacked Kamiya.”
“……Hmph.” Faced with Eiri’s fluid verbal attack, Kurumiya puffed out her cheeks and stayed silent.
Like this, the two of them looked just like a pouting child and her mother, who refused to buy a new toy.
A-amazing! …Eiri’s actually defying Kurumiya! Just as one would expect from a professional assassin. Her nerve was extraordinary.
Eiri took another step forward and looked down at the shorter Kurumiya. “Clearly, Kamiya is injured. Isn’t it natural for him to attend class after receiving medical care? And I think he’s done enough just by showing up at all. Most students wouldn’t come to class if they were going to be beat all to hell and back every time!”
Shrugging, Eiri looked at the vacant seat in the front row. The barely recognizable remains of a desk and chair, still covered in patches of dried blood, belonged to Mohawk. Just today—first during morning correctional duty and again during third period—he had been disciplined twice already and sent to the infirmary. When Kyousuke and Eiri had stopped there earlier, he had not yet regained consciousness and was hooked up to an artificial respirator, resting peacefully on a hospital bed.
“Mohawk, hmm?” Kurumiya mused, following Eiri’s gaze to the ruined desk. “…That’s right. I was thinking it’s about time to actually kill that asshole.” As she spoke Mohawk’s name, she made a hateful expression. The pressure radiating from her body abated slightly.
It must be because her rage is directed at Mohawk. Perhaps that’s just what Eiri planned.
“…Hmph. That’s enough. If you can, please overlook Kamiya’s lateness.”
Finally, Kurumiya broke the tension. Shouldering the iron pipe and taking a step back, she motioned for Kyousuke to pass. “Look, hurry up and take your seat. And as for the idiots who attacked Kamiya, I intend to smash you all later… But time is short! Back to your lessons!” she spat, eyes fixed on the gun lying on the podium.
Eiri watched Shinji and his lackeys pale at Kurumiya’s promise of punishment with satisfaction. Relaxing her severe expression, she casually moved to take her seat—
“Where are you going? I don’t remember saying that I would overlook your tardiness, to
o, Akabane!”
“……?!”
It was a fierce tone of voice. Eiri had stopped walking, and Kurumiya swung the iron pipe at her face. There were no preparatory movements. It was a supersonic blow, indescribable except as a blur.
“—Shit!!”
Eiri evaded the strike by a hair’s width. Tilting her head ever so slightly, she let the pipe sail past, and in the instant that Kurumiya’s arm extended toward her, she had closed the distance between them to nothing.
“…What are you doing, Ms. Kurumiya?”
Eiri asked in a quiet voice, the nails of her right hand pressed against Kurumiya’s throat. Her rust-red eyes bore into the smaller woman from above.
“…Oh?” Her eyes open wide, Kurumiya’s stiff cheeks slowly opened into a wide grin. Her childish laughter echoed through the otherwise silent classroom. “What am I doing, you ask…interesting. That’s an odd choice of words for someone threatening a teacher with fingernail blades. I should ask you, Akabane, what are you doing? I wonder if you’re prepared for what’s coming to you.”
Even with Eiri’s nails thrust into her throat—and apparently well aware that they were concealed weapons—Kurumiya was not perturbed. Rather, she looked up at Eiri with a predatory gaze.
“……”
Facing down her teacher, Eiri remained silent.
“Heh-heh-heh…well, then,” Kurumiya continued. “Since you tried so hard, I’ll give you some options. One… You obediently remove your hand and then face discipline. Two… You are forced to remove your hand and then face discipline. Three… You kill me now and avoid discipline. Those are all of your choices. You may choose your favorite.”
On hearing the third option, Eiri’s eyes widened. Biting her lip, she glared at Kurumiya. “…Kill a teacher? You must be joking. There’s no way I could get away with something like tha—”
“I don’t mind.”
“…Huh?”
“You could kill me here and now and there would be absolutely no punishment carried out on you. Because of my incompetent supervision, your conduct would be overlooked, don’t you think? …What is it? There’s nothing for you to worry about. It would be impossible for you to kill me without my compliance. If you explain the situation to the institution, I’m sure they will handle it appropriately. Everyone in here is a witness. Therefore, don’t hesitate—”
Kurumiya tossed aside the iron pipe and raised both of her hands. In a commanding tone that did not match her submissive posture, she ordered:
“Kill me.”
“……?!”
That instant, Eiri’s body jumped as though struck by an electric shock. The fingers pressed against Kurumiya’s throat began to visibly tremble and shake.
“What is it? What are you scared of? If you’re going to do it, then get on with it. You just have to pull back your bladed fingertips all at once. That should be easy! If you are the Scarlet Slasher, that is. Heh-heh-heh…”
Grinning broadly, Kurumiya heaped on word after word as if to torment Eiri.
“I…I’m…”
Her rust-red eyes were wavering.
The sounds of shallow breathing came from her lips, and her face drained of blood.
“What? What happened, Akabane—Eiri Akabane. Should I help you along?” Speaking in a sweet, soft voice, Kurumiya started to take one step forward. Without the slightest hesitation, it looked like she was going to push Eiri’s nails into her own throat—
“Ah… Wha—?!”
With a frustrated scream, Eiri pulled her hand away and stumbled backward, shaking. As she gathered her senses, she looked at Kurumiya’s neck. The marks left by her fingernail blades were thin and shallow. Relief quickly passed over Eiri’s expression, followed by despair, and finally, resignation. She bit her lip and hung her head low.
“”
“Oh, is that so…? I see. So that’s your choice, Akabane?” Kurumiya asked quietly. Her girlish smile long gone, she grabbed Eiri’s right wrist and pulled the taller girl toward her.
“That’s why you’re a still a virgin—Rusty Nail,”
Kurumiya whispered in Eiri’s ear as she struck her in the stomach with the blade of her hand.
“……?!”
A silent scream. Eiri’s slender body folded in half.
Without a moment’s delay, Kurumiya drove her left knee up into Eiri’s lower jaw.
“Eiri?!” “Eiriiiiii!!” Kyousuke and Maina shouted simultaneously.
Her head thrown back, Eiri collapsed backward.
Thud.
She went down with a dull crash.
“Hey, you bastards. Shut up and watch… Don’t move. If you move, I’ll kill you.” Kurumiya’s low growling voice froze Kyousuke and Maina, who had immediately started to rush over, in their tracks. Her right hand once again held the iron pipe. As the two students watched through gritted teeth, she jabbed at Eiri’s cheek with one bloodstained end. Eiri, lying face up, groaned.
“It was right for an injured person like Kamiya to go to the infirmary. I’ll overlook that. …However, Akabane. What reason could you possibly have had to take it upon yourself to accompany him? He doesn’t appear to have such severe injuries that he’s unable to walk by himself… In the end, weren’t the two of you secretly having some fun together? Hmmm?”
“Huh?! Wh-what are you saying…ubgh?!” Eiri opened her mouth to give voice to her objections, and Kurumiya plugged it with the iron pipe. She tried her best to turn her face away, but guided by Kurumiya’s skilled hand, the tip stubbornly caught up with her and pressed against her lips. Along with Eiri’s labored breaths, the iron pipe quickly became wet with her spit. “He—hey…mgh?! S-stop it…gnh!!”
“Oh-ho, what is it? You’re blushing! Don’t tell me you’re a virgin down there, too? Heh-heh-heh… Weeell, okay, then. If you are, I’ll confirm it now. If you turn out to be ‘pure,’ I’ll overlook everything. That’ll stand as evidence that you weren’t skipping class with Kamiya, yeah?” With a wicked smile, Kurumiya pulled the iron pipe out of Eiri’s mouth. She moved to insert the end of the glistening weapon up under Eiri’s skirt.
“Wha—?! S-stop…ahh—”
“Stop that, you perverted Lolita teacher.”
Unable to stay quiet and watch any longer, Kyousuke grabbed Kurumiya’s arm.
Her fun interrupted by the sudden grapple, Kurumiya repeated, “…Lolita?” as her thirst for blood rose before his eyes.
“Kyou—Kyousuke…”
“Quiet.”
Eiri raised her body up as if she was going to say something, but Kyousuke did not take his eyes off of Kurumiya. Even faced with the horrible, fiendish, man-eating expression written across her charming childlike face, he spoke in a powerful voice.
“It was me. I’m the one who asked her. I asked her to accompany me to the infirmary. Before that, she saved my life. She didn’t do one single thing to justify receiving punishment… I was the one. I was the one who was wrong! If you’re going to discipline someone, it should be me, you stupid bitch brat!”
Kyousuke had barely finished shouting when Kurumiya’s iron pipe struck him right on one gauze-covered cheek. “Gah!!” Knocked back, he collapsed on the floor. It was just short of a miracle that all of his teeth weren’t broken. It was the first time that Kyousuke had tasted Kurumiya’s pipe, and it was a complete shock. Where did this physical strength come from in those slender arms?
“Looks like you want to die after all…fine with me. Just as you want, I’ll smash you to bits!” The next blow caught him in the stomach. It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten today. Faster than he could vomit the gastric juices that came surging up past his throat, yet another swing caught Kyousuke in the side. As he realized that his ribs were probably broken—again a blow, this time on the thigh.
With Kurumiya’s rage raining down nonstop pain on him, the world was painted red…
“Kyousuke?! Wa-wait, Kyousuke—!”
Don’t come over. His consciousness quickly fading, Kyous
uke tried to use his last bit of strength to hold Eiri back with a pleading look. Then his vision blurred, and he did not get the chance to see whether Eiri had heeded his warning. Was I hit by a sideswipe just now? I don’t know. His body flew up, the side of his head slamming into the wall, his sense of pain long ago overwhelmed.
Over and over and over and over—from above, below, left, and right it was one attack after another. Kyousuke’s world tumbled violently as he was thrown about by the beating. With each blow, his consciousness faded further. A deep crimson abyss rushed up to engulf him.
“Hmm…it’s over now, Kamiya. Go ahead and die now!”
Wham! A final, massive strike smashed into the side of his head, and the world began to dim and dissolve.
“Kyousukeeeeeeeeeeee?!” Echoing through the darkness, someone screamed—
Kyousuke lost consciousness.
A gentle light filtered through the iron bars that covered the window. The infirmary in which Kyousuke found himself regaining consciousness was quiet and still. Staring at the blotchy ceiling, he blinked several times, then slowly and tentatively pushed himself upright.
“…Kyousuke?” a thin voice spoke from somewhere next to him. Sitting in a folding chair, Eiri was looking at Kyousuke with an expression of surprise. Tears wavered in her rust-red eyes. “…Should you be trying to sit up? …I mean, are you all right?”
“Mm, yeah,” he answered. “I’m better than expected, actually. I’m used to this. My body has always been sturdy, so, you know.” Between his head, chest, and four limbs, he hurt in so many places; however, Kyousuke was a fighter and was more than used to constant injury. If it was just the pain—if there was no permanent damage—it was tolerable.
Murderer in the Flower of Death Page 15