Luckily, it seemed that he’d escaped without much more than cuts and bruises and a few fractured bones. She must have been taking it easy on me. Though imperfect, Kurumiya was still a teacher. No matter how many times she said, “I’ll kill you,” there was no way that she would actually murder a student. “Anyway, Eiri…are you okay? Things must have been difficult for you after that.”
“…Not really,” Eiri mumbled and averted her eyes. “…Everything’s been normal since you were carried off to the infirmary. Just like after Mohawk was disciplined, nothing really changed. And nothing else has happened to me since that incident… Thanks to some idiot who protected me, that is. So…well…you see…” Eiri stumbled over her next words as though they were difficult even to say, then looked at him with upturned eyes.
“Tha…thank you, Kyousuke.”
Her voice was soft, gentle even, and the pink flush to her cheeks made Kyousuke’s pulse leap. “…D-don’t mention it!!” he stammered, also scrambling to turn his face away.
Precisely because she was usually so aloof, he didn’t see how it could be a good thing that she had suddenly started acting this way. Eiri seemed to be thinking the same thing, placing both hands on her knees and shutting her mouth up tight.
It was a situation that couldn’t help but be awkward.
Kyousuke finally decided to change the subject.
“B-by the way…are classes over?”
“…Yeah.” Eiri nodded, grateful to end the previous conversation.
“Uh, umm…what about Maina and Renko? They’re not with you?”
“…No. I asked them, and they let me step away for a while.”
“Oh, is that so…? Hey, when you say you asked…why did you come alone?”
“Because I had something I wanted to say to you…one on one.” Eiri lifted her gaze to meet his, and in her rust-red eyes, Kyousuke could see a determined resolve.
“…Huh? Something you wanted to tell me? What is it? You went so far as to clear everyone else out…” Kyousuke’s heart was beating fast with the possibilities that crossed his mind. Flustered, he surveyed his surroundings. Here in the infirmary, with its shelves of medicine, beds, and medical instruments, he felt no human presence besides the two of them. It looked like even the school nurse was absent.
Illuminated by the spring sunlight streaming in through barred windows, Eiri put her hands on the edge of the bed. “The truth is, Kyousuke, I…”
“Just a…w-wait! Wait just a minute, Eiri! I’m not sure if I’m ready for—”
Ignoring his blushing protests, she leaned her body forward.
“I’ve never killed anyone.”
“…Huh…?” Kyousuke drew a complete blank; it had definitely not been the confession he was expecting. She’s never killed anyone? Eiri? No way. There’s no way that can be true. I must have misheard her or something. Eiri was a professional “assassin,” after all.
“…The story that I’ve killed six people is bullshit. I’ve never even killed one person. I’ve really tried to, but I couldn’t kill a single one of them… Six isn’t the number of people I’ve killed. It’s the number of people I failed to kill. I failed at the job of ‘assassin’…see?” Eiri’s lips twisted around the words into a smiling grimace of masochistic self-loathing.
Kyousuke took a deep breath as Eiri pressed her weaponized nails against his throat.
“…For generations, the Akabane family has been a noted family of assassins, loyally serving our masters. From the time I was very young, I was trained in the art of killing, but… It makes you laugh, doesn’t it? I’m missing the most important thing—the nerve to kill. However, I did turn out to have a bit of talent, so I was given many chances… Each time I failed, I worked hard to see that it wouldn’t happen again. Even so, in the end I couldn’t go through with a kill. Then, on my most recent attempt—on what was supposed to be my sixth kill—I screwed up in a big way. Someone saw me, and I was arrested. Under the pretext of expelling me from the Akabane clan, they were happy to toss me in here.”
Removing her nails from Kyousuke’s throat, Eiri bit her lip.
Rubbing her bright red nails with the fingers of the opposite hand, she continued, “…The nickname they gave me was Rusty Nail. It’s not because of rusty bloodstains, but because my nails are rusty from disuse. Rust leaving a body—to an Akabane, rust red leaving a body is the whole point! To think that defective goods like me were born into such a distinguished line…”
“Eiri, you…”
Kyousuke couldn’t hide his confusion at Eiri’s frail voice and expression. It must be a lie? Could she really have not killed anyone, this girl? Certainly, when Kurumiya had ordered her to “kill me,” Eiri’s reaction had not been what one would expect of a seasoned murderer. She hadn’t been shaken by Kurumiya’s threats or anything like that… If she was simply afraid of the act of killing, that he could understand, but—
“Hey, Kyousuke…tell me. How do you kill? Just before you kill someone, the things that you think of… About that person, and the people who care for that person, and the people that that person cares for… I mean, you think of them, too, don’t you? Even if you’re only killing one person, once that person dies, so many more people might feel so heartbroken that death would be less painful… You’re probably causing them pain, causing them sadness, causing them to feel bitter and hurt— Those are the kinds of things that I think of. Even in the tiniest moment, I think and I think and I think and I think and I think and I think and I think…and in the end, I can never take their life. …I can’t finish the kill.”
Eiri’s head was bowed deeply, and she gripped the sheets of the bed with both hands. The pointed tips of her nails—six blades in total—tore at the thin fabric, cutting it to shreds. A drop of transparent liquid landed near her hand. A hint of a sob was barely audible.
“…Even so, on my last job, I managed to strike a vital area. I’d resolved myself to slit his throat from behind. A ridiculous amount of hot blood flowed out, and his face went pure white… I’d killed him, I thought. The moment I thought that, I blacked out. The rest is as I told you over lunch. I was arrested, and my target escaped death. I was abandoned by the Akabane family… Every day and every night became like living a nightmare. The fear I felt trying to kill him, the self-loathing… It’s humiliating, but even now I can’t sleep.”
Eiri wiped her eyes, her voice full of derision. So her eyes are always half closed because she was sleepy. The rust-red orbs shimmered behind curtains of tears. Again she looked at him entreatingly.
“Hey, Kyousuke…tell me! You’ve killed twelve people, haven’t you?! Even a gentle guy like you was able to kill, right?! What do I do to become able to kill? Tell me…please. You’re the only one I can ask. Maina never intends to kill in the first place and Renko is too mysterious…so I’m asking you, Kyousuke. Teach me? If you won’t, I’ll… As someone who was raised to kill, I…I won’t have any reason to go on living. Don’t you see?”
“……”
Kyousuke stared back at her in silence. Eiri had flung off the mask of the Scarlet Slasher and dropped the disguise of professional assassin; her real face was that of an ordinary, weak girl. Her aggressive, dismissive attitude was likely also a facade, a reflection of the fear and unease she felt in a world full of murderers. If that was the case…
Trusting in Eiri’s clear, tear-soaked eyes, he prepared himself for the worst. Kyousuke resolved to expose his own true face as well, tossing aside his mask and showing himself just as he was.
“…I’m sorry. That’s impossible, Eiri. I can’t teach you something like that.”
“What?! Why not?! Why won’t you teach m—”
“Because I’ve never killed a single person.”
“…Wha—?” Eiri put her hands on Kyousuke’s shoulders and moved closer, stopping abruptly at his confession. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. It was probably the same face that Kyousuke had made earlier.
With a bitter smile, h
e continued. “The story about me killing twelve people…the truth is, that was a false charge. I’m a normal guy who’s never even shoplifted, much less killed anyone. I’m just a little more resilient against injury than most people is all. I’ve kept it a secret this whole time, but…with you, I think it must be okay to talk about it.”
“…False charge? …Normal guy? …Just a little more resilient?” Her expression moved from astonishment through confusion and then on to disappointment—or possibly, relief—and then bewilderment. “…You must be lying? At least, the last thing you said was definitely a lie…”
“I’m not lying. It’s all true. I have absolutely no idea how to answer questions about killing people. But—” He took Eiri’s hands that were resting on his shoulders and, glancing at the nails that crowned her fingertips, gently removed them. “I completely understand what it’s like to hate the thought of killing. I find it unpleasant, but I also understand your determination in feeling like you have to kill. You’re thinking all kinds of things, so you can’t kill your target? Of course you are! People who can kill without thinking are insane. Murderers and hit men…am I wrong?”
“You’re wrong.” Eiri cut him down immediately. With eyes as sharp as swords, she glared at Kyousuke. “…That kind of reasoning belongs in polite society, doesn’t it? Here in the underworld where we’re living, being unable to kill is insane. It’s the exact opposite of the ordinary world in logic, morals, and truth. The worlds that you and I inhabit are too different. And if our worlds are different, our value systems…”
“Value systems? We’re the same there, too, though. You stand out in criminal society, but you’re normal in decent society. You’re no different from me… I mean, what were you going to do if you were actually rehabilitated here? If you stuck it out for three years and were let out back into the ordinary world—”
“That’s impossible…absolutely impossible.”
“Why would it be?! Your family turned their backs on you, didn’t they? Even so, they’re… They wouldn’t just throw someone like you away, would they? When you already know so much? It seems like washing your hands of them would be tough.”
“…You’re wrong. It’s not like that. Even so, there is one reason, but…” Turning her face away, Eiri hesitated.
“But?” Kyousuke urged her on.
Still not meeting his eyes, she continued. “…Look. You were thrown in here on a false charge, right? The world you came from, that place…do you want to go back? Say that starting now, for the next three years, you carry on behaving as the Warehouse Butcher and endure this life…even then, the place that you think you want to return to, the place where you belong, will it be there for you?”
“—Yes, it will be.” Kyousuke held the image of his beloved family in his mind and felt the strength fill his voice and his fists. He wouldn’t be broken until he had seen Ayaka again, until he had apologized to her. He would absolutely not give in.
“……Really.” Eiri’s eyes had clouded over, her voice a soft mumble. Pursing her lips and carving wrinkles into her forehead, she looked extremely indecisive.
Kyousuke stayed silent and continued to watch her attentively. Ten seconds passed, then twenty, then thirty— “…I get it. If that’s the case, then I have to tell you.”
In the brilliance of Eiri’s open eyes, Kyousuke gasped unconsciously. They held a cold, ruthless light. Her icy-sharp gaze seemed to pierce him through. “First, you’ll forgive me for starting from the conclusion, but… Even supposing that you do stick it out for the three years, you will never be able to go back to your former world.”
“……Huh? No, I’m going back. I mean, this place is to rehabilitate murdere—”
“—Wrong.” Cutting off Kyousuke’s words, Eiri told him the truth.
His hope was a spider’s thread that he clung to in this hellish purgatory, filled with the clamor of murderers. She delivered the truth that would cut the thread and send him tumbling to the bottom of the abyss.
“Purgatorium Remedial Academy is not a school that rehabilitates murderers… It’s a place where they take murderers who already have experience killing and retrain them, correcting any weaknesses or flaws— It’s a vocational school for raising professional killers.”
Lucifer in the Cocytus
THE BARE FACE OF PURGATORY AND THE CRAZY DEATH METAL GROWL
FIFTH PERIOD
“Purgatorium Remedial Academy is a vocational school for killers…?”
It was a narrow room, illuminated by thin rays of light streaming in from a deeply recessed window. Seated behind a massive ebony desk, flanked by a pair of tall twin bookshelves, a cigarette-smoking figure sat, backlit, face shrouded in shadow. Somehow, he could tell the figure was smiling.
The silhouette chuckled quietly at Kyousuke, who still stood in the doorway, breathing raggedly. “And just where did you hear such a thing? Well, I can hazard a guess, but… First of all, settle down. You heard this story, and you flew directly here to find me, is that it? What a lively pig you are to disregard the fact that you would be immediately disciplined.”
“Cut the crap, Kurumiya…just answer the question.” Growling, Kyousuke took a step forward. He couldn’t hide the anger in his voice.
As the silhouette—as Kurumiya—had said, what he had heard from Eiri had sent him flying out of the infirmary in a fury. He’d needed to see Kurumiya, needed to know if it was true. He’d found her, finally, on the fourth floor of the new school building, in one of the staff rooms granted to each teacher at the Purgatorium Remedial Academy.
Kyousuke tried to calm his labored breathing. “Is what I heard the truth? Answer me! Answer me now!” he demanded. “Even if I do survive to graduation, I won’t return to normal society, but the criminal underworld? What the hell is that about?!”
Unshaken by Kyousuke’s angry shouts, Kurumiya leisurely exhaled a puff of purple smoke. Pressing the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray, she stood. “I thought I told you on the very first day of class, Kamiya? Our objective here at the Purgatorium Remedial Academy is to beat the corrupted nature of murderers into shape and completely reform them. However…”
Making her way around the imposing desk, Kurumiya slowly approached Kyousuke. In her hand, she gripped the familiar iron pipe in place of the cigarette. Before long, she was looking up at him, grinning; it was obvious that she was enjoying his response immensely. “I don’t recall saying that if you graduated you could return to the free world. And I do hate lying… I speak nothing but the truth! It’s as you said, Kamiya—this place is precisely such an institution.”
“Ehh?! You’re full of shit!!” Furious, Kyousuke grabbed Kurumiya’s collar in both hands, lifting her petite body off the ground.
Kurumiya’s expression did not change. She still stared at Kyousuke with an amused expression. “Oh, scary, scary…heh-heh-heh! Are you thinking about killing me? Hmmm? Too bad that’s impossible…for a punk who’s never killed before!”
“Wh-why…how do you know that—?”
“Humans are fundamentally incapable of murder.”
Still standing on her tiptoes, Kurumiya held Kyousuke’s gaze, unflinching. Ignoring his wide-eyed question, she continued, expression calm and focused. “That’s one of the ideas that forms the foundation for the theory of ‘Killology.’ It’s because in every animal, there are instinctual mechanisms working to defend against the extinction of the species. In fact, it’s said that when training soldiers on the battlefield, the most serious challenge is the problem of how to rid them of this aversion toward ‘killing one’s own.’ That’s how difficult it is, the act of killing another person. However—” Kurumiya’s smile grew, taking on a fiendish quality, small white teeth peeking like fangs from the corners of her upturned lips.
“The murderers gathered here are different. They’ve already overcome their aversions. There are those who killed on an impulse, as well as psychopaths and the ones who are bred for it… No matter what type they are, if y
ou can get them to go off once, the rest is easy. If you can reform them so that they’re easy to handle, then you’re good to go. Killers are very talented people, you know!”
“Wha……?” The hands wrapped around Kurumiya’s neck slackened, letting her slip free. Staggering back in retreat, Kyousuke groaned, overcome with surprise. “What the hell…? You collect murderers to use like tools?”
“Yep, you’ve got it! Of course, there are exceptions. Like Rusty Nail, who, despite being born into a long line of assassins, isn’t able to kill, and…virgins who have never killed, like you, Kamiya.”
Kyousuke snapped back to reality when she spoke his name. If the students had been collected on the premise that “they already had experience killing people,” then there shouldn’t have been any reason for Kyousuke to have been thrown into a place like this. But here I am, so why?
“That’s right, you’ve never killed anyone. I knew from the very beginning that the thing about you killing twelve people was a false charge… If you want to know why, it’s because from the start the crimes that you are supposed to have committed have been crimes contrived by our board chairman for the purpose of having you charged.”
“……Huh? What the…what the hell do you mean by that?! Why on purpose…?”
“Heh-heh-heh… Isn’t it obvious? He laid eyes on your aberrant physical abilities. The board wanted you badly enough to fabricate your crimes… Especially since your limiter is still in place, so depending on how they decide to train you…they could make you into just about anything. For example, if I were to corner you in a situation where you had no option but to kill…or something.”
Kurumiya reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved something, holding it up for him to see. He recognized the crude shape, shining with a dark luster, as Shinji’s revolver.
“…Really, today was so strange. I had hoped that if you took a beating from a group of murderers, you might knock off one or two of them in the course of self-defense, but…an unexpected obstacle appeared. I went out of my way to put lethal weapons on the black market, and none of those assholes even used them! They were as useless as Rusty Nail’s threats.”
Murderer in the Flower of Death Page 16