“……?! That was your doing, Kurumiya?!”
I guess when you think about who could possibly put that many lethal weapons into circulation— Clearly, it couldn’t have been a student; a teacher had to have done it. It was like some sort of horrible joke.
Kyousuke moved to grab Kurumiya again, but she pacified him with a wave of the revolver. “Now, wait a minute. Calm down. I may be a teacher, but I’m on the bottom rung here. I’m just following orders from above. The ones you should blame are the chairman of this institution and…yourself. Blame your excessive physical strength and your own foolishness at committing such flashy acts of violence that your strength became well-known even in the criminal underworld… You see, Slayer? Or is it Megadeath, Kyousuke Kamiya?”
“Wha…?!” He froze, fingers clutching Kurumiya’s lapel, and clenched his teeth. He’d been certain that, until now, he’d only thrown down with street hoodlums and small-time punks. He had not even the slightest association with the yakuza or any other organized gang.
“…It’s my fault?” In the beginning, he’d only raised a hand to protect the people important to him, but before long, he’d come to rely on his fists above all else and had forgotten how to back down…
And then, ultimately, he was the one who hurt them. Ayaka, who he was supposed to protect over everything else, and—hurt himself, too. It was all because he had wielded his power without grasping its true extent.
“Are you saying that this is all my fault…? Dammit…!”
Kyousuke ground his molars, hands opening and then clenching into tight fists. There was nothing he could do. Not knowing what or who to blame, his fury had no direction, no outlet. It writhed and roiled in his gut.
“Oh, that’s right…,” Kurumiya added. “There’s one thing that I forgot to tell you.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“…What is it?” Kyousuke growled, frowning. Kurumiya wore a sadistic smile.
“It’s about the disguise that you were forced to wear—the disgusting mask of the Warehouse Butcher—and the asshole who was originally supposed to wear it. That person is a psycho murderer who thinks nothing about killing people by the dozens or hundreds, but… Do you know who I’m talking about, Kamiya?”
“…Huh? Do I know? As if I would know that!!” There was no way that someone he knew just happened to have killed hundreds of people without a second thought. If I had to pick…probably Bob—but even for her, a three-digit kill count seems unlikely.
“…Hmm, really? You don’t know?” Kurumiya sounded disappointed. “But it’s one of those female students you’ve been getting along so well with your whole time here. Heh-heh-heh…isn’t that great? If you can’t figure it out, I’ll tell you. One day, you beat up twelve guys in an abandoned warehouse, and then the one who smashed them, and broke them, and crushed them, and tore them apart, and gouged them, and toyed with them, eviscerating them before killing and killing and killing and killing and killing and killing them all, that mass murderer was—”
Kurumiya’s big round eyes narrowed.
And then, Kyousuke heard it.
The one person’s name that he had least wanted to hear.
“—Renko Hikawa! The girl with the gas mask that you’re always so friendly with! She’s the Murder Maid, a real veteran killer. She’s not just the top of her class, she’s the lethal instrument at the top of your whole year.”
She’s lying.
Running through the deserted school building, Kyousuke’s mind screamed.
She’s lying, she’s lying, she’s lying, she’s lying, she’s lying, she’s lying!
The Renko he knew—a psycho killer wouldn’t think anything of having a kill count in triple digits? That was completely impossible. It should be impossible. He didn’t want it to be possible.
“Fine, why don’t you go ask her yourself? Isn’t she up on the roof? Heh-heh-heh…”
As soon as Kurumiya had said the words, Kyousuke had flown from her staff room, running like a madman. His pulse pounded so violently that it hurt.
It must be a lie, Renko…please say it’s not true! Please laugh it off like you always do!!
The closer he came to his destination, the stronger his suspicion of Renko grew. The mysterious girl who wore her gas mask twenty-four hours a day. Her real face and her real nature—Kyousuke knew neither. Even if her eyes glittered with murderous intent despite her easy, friendly manner, Kyousuke wouldn’t know it. Even if she were grimacing with madness underneath the mask that laughed with a “kksshh,” he wouldn’t know…
“Hah…hah…geez…hah…” Standing in front of the gunmetal gray door that led to his destination, Kyousuke caught his breath. NO ENTRY was written across the portal in bright red paint, warning against access to the roof of the new school building. The lock was—open. He placed a hand on the knob and readied himself to push it open.
Bright light flooded in. Under a blue-gray sky, whipping his head around, he frantically looked for Renko. But in the narrow space enclosed by an iron fence and barbed wire, Kyousuke was alone.
“…Renko? Are you here? Heeey, Renkoooooo!” Calling her name, he paced about the small area, checking every nook and corner, all to no avail.
“…Seriously, what the hell. She’s not here…”
It seemed that Kurumiya’s prediction of Renko’s whereabouts had been off. Breathing a deep sigh of relief and disappointment, Kyousuke allowed his fraying nerves to relax a moment before—
“Oh, sorry, sorry. Looks like I kept you waiting, hmm? Kksshh.”
The voice came from the doorway. Kyousuke, gripping the iron fence on the opposite side of the roof, turned around quickly.
“I heard the whole story from Kurumiya. She said you had some things you wanted to ask me?”
—There stood Renko, same as always. The girl in the black gas mask, who spoke in an easygoing manner. Kyousuke was frozen in place, unable to react. So with an “ahem,” Renko pushed out her abundant breasts.
“Anyway, I’m a G cup! Kksshh. That’s what you wanted to ask me, isn’t it? I thought it might be pretty hard for you to speak up and ask me yourself, so I went ahead and told you. Since you made the effort to come find me, should I give you the rest of my measurements? Starting from the top, they’re—”
“Renko.”
“Hmm? What is it? You’ve got such a grim face on. It feels like you might rush on me at any moment…oh! Kyousuke, surely you weren’t scheming to do this and that, and even the other thing to me here in this deserted place—”
“—Renko!” Kyousuke shouted, unable to contain himself.
“Ah?!”
“…Quit joking around.” He glowered at her gas mask. “What I wanted to ask you has nothing to do with that.” He took a deep breath hoping to calm his ragged nerves. He gathered his strength in his clenched fists.
Perhaps picking up on the tone of the conversation, Renko grew quiet, letting out a muted “kksshh…” The sun slowly began to drop in the sky, and sunset painted the roof a brilliant ochre.
“Say, Renko—?” Kyousuke asked. “What I heard about your kills being in the triple digits…is that true?”
“…”
The silence was delicate.
After a little while, Renko tilted her head in thought. “Triple digits? I’m sorry, Kyousuke. I don’t know…I just don’t know.” Putting her finger to the chin of the gas mask, she lowered her voice. “The number of people I’ve killed up to now, I just didn’t count them one by one, you see. Even if you ask me like that, ‘Are your kills in the triple digits?’ I can’t give you a good answer. The only thing I can say is…”
She paused for a moment and removed her hood, allowing her silver hair to spill out and flutter in the wind. “I’ve killed more people than anyone at this school… I’m a better murderer than anyone here. Do you know why? Because that’s what I was made for. In other words, I’m—”
She threw off her blazer and hoodie, until her tank top was the only la
yer left. Covering every inch of her exposed arms were closely packed, jet-black tribal tattoos. The complicated designs, made of hundreds of lines interweaving in all directions, looked like chains wrapped around her.
“—I’m the Murder Maid. I exist for the sole purpose of killing people, designed from the genetic level to do just that. Like scissors are made to cut paper, like a hammer is made to hit nails, like a gun is made to shoot bullets… I was made for this purpose, and I can do nothing but kill. I kill because I hate. I kill because I’m sad. I kill because I’m happy. I kill because I’m lonely. I kill because I’m empty. I kill because it hurts. I don’t really understand it all, but I kill. I kill as the mood strikes me. I kill just because. I kill and I kill and I kill and I kill and I kill and I kill and I kill and I kill… Every single emotion I have is associated with killing. If it weren’t for this mask, well…get it?”
As she spoke, she removed her headphones, tossing the rough black equipment aside to reveal delicate white ears. Then, she put both hands on her mask. Moving her arms around to the back of her head, detaching the bands that held it in place, Renko exhaled, a long “kkkssshhh…”
“This mask is a limiter that my creator put on me. It’s a device to suppress the main factors that tie all of my actions to indiscriminate killing—my overwhelming murderous impulse and urge to slaughter. That is to say, only as long as I’m wearing this mask, I’m a normal girl. …But Kyousuke, if you say that you want to see the real me, I think it would be okay to show you. Ordinarily, of course, I can’t take it off by myself, but…this time is special, so I got her to undo the lock!”
“R-Renko…” Kyousuke drew away, pressing his back against the iron fence.
Renko looked at Kyousuke, shaking with instinctive fear, and laughed. Or she felt like laughing. “Up to now, I’ve had all kinds of emotions, and when I have them, I kill, but…this is the first time I’ve ever had this feeling. I’m experiencing…interest in you. I can’t help but be fascinated by you, and I can’t pull my consciousness away from you. My head is full of you. I want to know you more fully, and I want you to know about me. I like you, Kyousuke… I love you! That’s why—” Kachink. The sound of the restraints coming loose.
“—I want to savor the moment when this emotion becomes connected to killing.”
The black mask, its bindings finally undone, fell away. Exposed, Renko’s bare face was—so beautiful it was frightening.
“…”
He was captivated, his eyes drawn to her. Her silky smooth silver hair fluttered against the backdrop of a sky the color of fresh blood. In the approaching twilight, her dazzlingly white skin shone like glazed porcelain.
Her slim, beautiful eyebrows; her calmly closed eyelids; her eyelashes, so long that they cast a shadow; her high, shapely nose bridge; her charming peach-colored lips… Everything about her was weirdly, achingly beautiful.
If mankind were to use all of its skills and techniques to pursue the absolute essence of beauty, through the arts or some other means, this is likely the kind of face that would be created—so he thought.
“…Ren…ko…”
As if in answer to the name that had slipped from Kyousuke’s mouth, Renko’s eyelashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes. Exceedingly clear, almost transparent, her glacially blue eyes swam across the sky and seized on Kyousuke.
“……Heh-heh-heh.” A breath of life spilled out. Her peach-colored lips traced a joyful curve as she opened her mouth to speak.
“How is it, Kyousuke? My bare face. I certainly hope that you like it!” Without the mask, her voice was beautifully clear, so lovely it made him shiver. “Heh…heh-heh! You know, I can’t stop smiling. The music won’t stop… I’m so happy I might go insane! Oh, I’m happy, Kyousuke. I had no idea that showing you my bare face would make me this happy… How nice, an introduction like this. It’s welling up from my gut. What a thrill! This must be my murderous melody for you! Hee-hee-hee…!”
Her shoulders shook with laughter. Renko closed her eyes again and let her body sway back and forth, moving as though carried along by some unheard melody.
Despite the fact that she had removed her headphones. Despite the fact that there was no music to be heard. Witnessing Renko’s incomprehensible words and actions, Kyousuke began to sweat.
“…Huh? H-hey…what are you saying? I don’t understand what you mean, Renko…”
Renko opened her eyes and smiled at the trembling boy. It was not a scornful smile; rather, she smiled like she was having all the fun in the world and simply couldn’t help herself.
“Heh-heh…hmm? Ah, it’s nothing major. To me, my murderous impulses are music. It’s just that the music started to play. It’s not audible to you, is it, Kyousuke…? Or maybe, this is your first time hearing this type of music? Death metal. Anyway, I’m playing it for you, so you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll do everything for you, the death voice, shout, growl…to go along with the tune my bloodlust is playing, my hands and feet will play and dance for you! Ahem. And so, well—”
Linking her fingers together overhead, Renko leaned back in a tight stretch, emphasizing her abundant breasts and straining her tank top to the limit. When she had bent back as far as she could, she let her hands go and slouched forward.
Loosely dangling her two tattoo-covered arms, she opened her ice-blue eyes wide. At the center of two irises that reminded Kyousuke of the still surface of deep, deep water—her dark pupils contracted into tiny dots, like cats’ eyes. From the upturned corners of her lips peeked strangely sharp canine teeth.
“We don’t need an MC, so let’s hurry up and start the show, Kyousukeeeeeee!!”
Her cry was ferocious and wild, like an untamed animal. Renko tossed her silver-white hair, kicked at the ground, and began to dance.
It was sheer dumb luck that Kyousuke avoided her first attack.
Kicking the ground, Renko’s body ricocheted off and sliced through the air, flying at him as she spun, a tornado of silver-white hair. These were not the movements of a human being, but the vicious motions of a savage beast.
Closing the fifteen-foot distance separating them to zero in an instant, she traced a wide arc with her right arm, swinging it down on him at point-blank range. Her power and speed were incredible.
“…Huh?!” Rolling to the side, Kyousuke avoided the blow by a hair’s breadth. A horrid, grinding smash erupted from the place he’d been standing less than a second before. The faint scent of shampoo mingled with the thick stench of iron rust, fragrant on the evening breeze.
“…Huh? How strange. You dodged it…don’t do that, Kyousuke. Heh-heh-heh…”
Wearing a broad smile, Renko sluggishly pulled her arms away from the iron fence, which had been crushed and mangled and twisted by her assault. She flicked fresh, wet blood from her wrists.
It wasn’t Kyousuke’s, but Renko’s own blood. Her right palm looked to be bleeding.
“And yet, ooohh…this is too exciting, and I miscalculated my strength, didn’t I?! I struck at you in this ecstatic trance and broke everything at once, including my hand. I’m designed to be a perfect killer. My bones are abnormally strong, and let me tell you, they don’t break easily. Hee-hee…oh, well.” Her body swaying with the murderous melody, Renko giggled. She didn’t seem to feel even the slightest bit of pain.
Fallen on his backside on the ground a little ways away from her, Kyousuke looked up at Renko, dumbfounded. “Wh-what the…what the hell are you?! Y-you’re not human!” On the edge of his vision, the iron fence stood twisted and broken. If he had taken the brunt of a blow like that, it would have been instant death—at best, a lethal wound.
Looking down at Kyousuke trembling with fear, Renko snaked her tongue across her blood-soaked arm; she shivered as she traced a sensual path over her intricate tattoos. “Why, how mean! …I am human. But I am not a product of nature. You’re very perceptive to notice such a thing, Kyousuke. I’m getting more and more excited…eh-heh-heh. My murderous i
mpulse is coming to a climax, so next up let me hear some good vocals, okay? I’ll give it to you gently this time!”
The blood cleaned from her arm, Renko again raised her right hand, heedless of her injury. With an ecstatic expression, she gave her body over to the inaudible murderous melody.
Her silvery-white hair fluttered against a blazing sky, and her glacial eyes reflecting the fiery light were made of pure insanity, but she was so beautiful it was almost overwhelming.
That’s why, perhaps—even facing imminent death—Kyousuke’s mind was incredibly tranquil. He didn’t tremble in fear, nor was he stricken with despair, but watched her with an absolute fascination. He was utterly consumed.
With slightly flushed cheeks, Renko smiled, baring her canine teeth. “Well, then, Kyousuke, will you be killed now? I won’t miss this time…I definitely won’t miss.”
“…”
Kyousuke couldn’t move.
Even though he knew he was going to die, his body wouldn’t move.
Rolling her wrist around and folding in her fingers one by one, Renko slowly made a fist. He could almost hear the chain-like tattoos that entwined around her arms clang together as she prepared to strike.
“Kyousuke!”
“Oh no, Kyousuke!”
Two strained voices cut through the twilight, echoing in the small space. In front of the open metal door stood Eiri and Maina.
“Oohh, come on! What’s this?! This jarring noise interrupting my performance—” Lowering her fist in annoyance, Renko turned to look. As soon as she recognized the two figures, delight quickly spread across her face, her narrowed eyes opening wide as she smiled again. “…Ah, what’s this? If it isn’t Eiri and Maina. Hi there, you two! You came at just the right time. Everyone knows a show is nothing without an audience, yep!”
Murderer in the Flower of Death Page 17