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Murder Princess and the Summer Death Camp

Page 4

by Mizuki Mizushiro


  “…Oh? That was nice, wasn’t it?”

  They were in the House of Limbo’s “cafeteria.” Eiri, who had finished listening to the basics of the story, gave a nonchalant answer and quickly resumed her meal. Kyousuke looked across the table at her, surprised at her lack of reaction.

  “No way, it’s not nice at all! And is that all you have to say?”

  “…So what if it is?”

  “I-I see…”

  That’s the end of that conversation. Looking around for help, Kyousuke’s gaze shifted to the girl in the seat next to Eiri.

  “E-Eiri’s really irritated, oh me, oh my…”

  Maina was completely dispirited. There was no way he could rely on her for backup.

  Kyousuke had grown more and more melancholy himself. He rubbed his stomach, frowning at his lack of appetite.

  They were in the middle of having lunch, seated at tables where they had assembled by squad, but Eiri had been acting strange from the very start. Could she still be holding a grudge about the incident by the stream…?

  The expression in her eyes as she rudely continued eating seemed supernaturally sharp. The ominous aura rising off of Eiri had left her surrounded by a conspicuous ring of empty seats. Kyousuke and the others kept silent as the girl seethed with anger.

  “Hey, Kyousuke! Long time no see! Kksshh.”

  From overhead, a cheerful voice. Renko. The muffled phonemes and sounds of exhaust were enough to identify her.

  “Long time…? Didn’t we just get into it back at the stream bank?”

  Smiling bitterly, Kyousuke lifted his head to face the unexpected visitor.

  “No way! It’s been more than three hours since that, hasn’t it? From my perspective, every second of every minute that I can’t be with you is an eternity! Ohh, I wanted to see you, Kyousukeeeeee! I like you so, so, so much! I love you!” Waving her hands in his direction, Renko dispatched her passionate love call.

  Next to the gas mask, high up and far away, was—

  “Waah, Renko, really. You’re so assertive. Tee-hee-hee!”

  Six feet tall and three feet wide, barely squeezed into her uniform, a female student wearing a flour sack on her head towered over him, carrying Renko on her shoulders.

  “…Wha? …I mean, whaaaaaattt?!”

  Kyousuke did a prompt double take, struck dumb with shock, just as when he had first met Renko. Eiri and Maina also sat slack-jawed, food entirely forgotten.

  Contrary to her grim outer appearance, the female student wearing the flour sack flapped her hands back and forth in a cutesy gesture, and squirmed at Renko’s words. That hoarse, unisex voice. And that uniform, filled to bursting. Kyousuke felt like he was having déjà vu.

  This flour sack–wearing girl, could it be—?

  “…Bob.”

  He couldn’t confirm the namesake haircut, but from the two peepholes cut in the front of the sack, the girl’s big round eyes peered at him questioningly.

  “…Bob?”

  “Ah!! Um, well…”

  “Bob” was a nickname that Kyousuke had decided to give her in his own mind, and not her actual name at all.

  Renko, who was seated on “Bob’s” shoulders, tilted her head in confusion. “…Hm? Who is that? Her name’s nothing like that. She’s in first-year Class B, my classmate and member of my squad—”

  “No, he’s right. I am Bob. I have no other name, just…Bob.”

  “Whaaaaaat, no way!! You were Bob this whole time?!”

  Bob nodded, holding tight to Renko’s legs as she flailed in surprise, nearly hard enough to fall off of Bob’s shoulders. Her round eyes, visible through the peepholes, were completely clear. “Yeah…at least, that’s my name in front of Kamiya, okay? Earlier, when I confessed my love to him and was rejected, I lost all self-control from the shock and went on a bit of a rampage, remember? …Since then, I haven’t been able to face Kamiya. That’s why it’s okay. I’m fine being Bob. I’m Bob, with no other name. Bob, who’s fine being Renko’s good friend who supports her love!”

  “Bob…”

  Both Renko and Kyousuke were touched by Bob’s brisk declaration. Carrying the shame of her past disgrace, she had decided quickly to step aside, and was now lending her former rival Renko her full support as a close friend… What a ridiculously nice person!

  As Kyousuke stood, wiping the tears that had pooled in the corners of his eyes, he turned to face Bob. “Is that so…? I understand, Bob. But I’m the one who should apologize for my behavior up until now. I misunderstood you, judging you only from your outward appearance… It’s a pleasure meet you…again. Let’s be friends!” Looking up and smiling at her sack-covered face, Kyousuke extended a hand in friendship.

  After blinking in surprise with her round, peephole eyes, Bob cordially replied, “…Sure, pleased to meet you,” and grasped Kyousuke’s hand, when—

  “Nom.”

  “Oooooowwwwww!!”

  —The figure that had suddenly interrupted them pushed aside Bob’s arm and bit into Kyousuke’s. Surprised by the abrupt stabs of pain, Kyousuke shouted. A little late, Bob and Renko also screamed.

  “Uh…hey! Don’t do that, Chihiro!”

  “Wha?! What are you doing to Kyousuke, Chihiro? Didn’t you promise not to eat him?!”

  The female student clinging to Kyousuke’s arm—the one that Bob and Renko were calling “Chihiro”—moved her mouth with intense concentration. “…Nomnom…” She had a small body and long black hair, and her blood-red eyes were narrowed in apparent joy as she chewed and sucked on Kyousuke’s upper arm. “…Whoaaa. Dewishish. Nomnom. Mmmmmm.”

  “Uh, this girl is really… There’s no helping it, I guess!” Bob, hurriedly crouching down, carefully pried the little girl—pried Chihiro—off of Kyousuke’s arm, and scolded her with a bop on the head.

  Renko, who slid smoothly down Bob’s body and disembarked, also put her hands on Kyousuke’s arm and scolded Chihiro, who sat looking at her enviously. “Chihiro! What happened to the promise you made me?! You promised you wouldn’t eat Kyousuke until after I’ve killed him, didn’t yooouuu?! You told me stiff rigor mortis meat was fine…”

  —Hang on, what kind of promise was this? I never heard anything about this!

  “I didn’t even eat him…I just tasted. I controlled…myself!”

  Looking Chihiro over as she sat staring at Renko with her cheeks puffed out, Kyousuke came to remember Chihiro clearly. She was one of the many girls who had made a romantic confession to him when the school year had begun three months ago. She was some kind of cannibal girl who had pushed him down and cried out, “I’ll eat you… We’ll become one,” and actually tried to devour him.

  Faced with another unexpected person, Kyousuke’s voice slipped out in surprise. “You’re the one from that time—”

  “…Yeah. First-year, Class B, Chihiro Andou. I’m fourteen. It’s been a while, Kyousuke!” She grinned widely, showing off well-developed canine teeth.

  “U-uh…sure has?” Kyousuke had begun backing away, rubbing at the tooth marks left on his arm. He looked toward Renko’s gas mask. “Ohh…could it be, that she’s also in your same squad?”

  “Yep, you got it. Me, Bob, Chihiro, and—”

  “Hee-hee-hee…I grow tired of waiting, Kyousuke Kamiya! I have an audience with you once again, at this very hour!”

  At that moment, interrupting Renko’s roll call, a theatrical voice filled the room.

  When they looked, on the other side of the table stood a male student covering the right half of his face with his left arm, which was wrapped in black bandages. He wore a bold smile, and his whole body leaned slightly to the left.

  “My name is Kuuga Makyouin! You should etch it into your very soul… It is the name of the person who will consign you to oblivion on the evening of the coming apocalypse! Hee-hee-hee…! My left arm Azrael is aching for you, Kyousuke Kamiya! It is saying, ‘I want to present you with a requiem,’ and ‘I want to offer a tribute of red spider lili
es that go by the name Despair’… Can you hear it?”

  “…Uh, okay. I’ll introduce you. This is Michirou Suzuki, first-year Class B! He doesn’t seem to have any friends in our class, so I was glad I could get him to make friends with me. Kksshh.”

  The young man fixed his gaze on Renko, who had made this announcement quite indifferently. “Quiet, you! Silence! Never by that name… It is no more than the name of the vessel into which my spirit was summoned when my soul manifested in this transient reality from the netherworld! The true name of my noble soul is Kuuga Mak—”

  “…Michirou, hun? I understand that you’re happy to be able to tell all this to Kamiya, but if you don’t get it over with, I’m going to get mad. Our lunch time is limited, so hurry up and sit down so we can all relax and eat our meal.”

  “…Oh, okay.”

  At the threat from Bob, Kuuga Makyouin—or rather, Michirou—instantly gave up all pretensions of grandeur and sank into his seat. As he did, Eiri glanced in his direction, nearly sending him into a panic. “Eeek!! S-sorry!”

  You’re too jittery, Kuuga Makyouin…

  Crawling under the table to resurface next to Michirou, Chihiro tried to encourage him. “…Don’t worry about it.”

  Renko sat next to Kyousuke. Next to Renko, Bob occupied two seats, and had resumed eating. Chowing down on her maggot risotto (salty porridge)—the first thing on the menu since they reached the House of Limbo—Bob started up a boisterous, friendly conversation.

  “By the way, you’re Eiri…is that right? Your skin is so lovely, darling! And your makeup looks natural, so skillful. What foundation do you use? How about mascara?”

  “……Huh? Uh, umm—”

  “Eee! Oh, your nails are so cuuute. Eiri dear, you are sooo fashionable!”

  “Oh…a-am I? Not really…well…th-thanks.”

  Sticking her spoon under the flour sack as she ate, Bob chattered on merrily. Initially confused by the discrepancy between Bob’s bizarre appearance and her behavior, Eiri’s prickly attitude gradually softened.

  Watching the two of them discussing beauty and fashion, Renko laughed. “Kksshh. Yep yep, looks like lots of fun! We may be in separate squads, but I’m glad that during the Prison Camp we can all get along together!” She took out her black drinking tube and attached it to the right cheek of her gas mask.

  Next to Renko, who had begun sucking up her risotto like a drink through the tube, Kyousuke nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s all get along! Your squad members all seem like great people, huh?”

  “Kksshh. Don’t they? This is the group that was out of place even in Class B, though, like the leftovers.”

  At Renko’s words, Kyousuke smiled wryly. “I see.” It’s probably precisely because you’re so out of place in that weird class that we somehow make a good match.

  Kyousuke and the others within the Purgatorium Remedial Academy were still leading extremely strange, isolated existences—

  [Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering]

  Each squad will compete for the best time in reaching all of the designated points.

  The checkpoints number seven in total.

  They are: Gluttony, Lust, Envy, Greed, Wrath, Sloth, and Pride.

  When a squad reaches a checkpoint with all members present, the Public Morals Committee member on duty will void one of the seven P stamps marked on the Deadly Sins Card held by the squad leader.

  The P stands for “Peccati”—“sin” in Italian—and each stamp’s depiction represents one of the seven deadly sins.

  Participants must reach the goal at the mountain’s summit with all seven Ps voided to clear this game.

  Terrible condemnation awaits the squad with the worst completion time, so prepare yourselves.

  Further, should you lose your Deadly Sins Card along the way—or if even one squad member goes missing—your squad will be immediately disqualified and subject to compulsory condemnation.

  The slowest squad will be receiving the same condemnation as those who are disqualified.

  Those are the basic rules. From this moment, you have twelve hours and thirty minutes.

  Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering—START.

  “‘Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering,’ huh…” Kyousuke muttered to himself, looking over the Deadly Sins Card that hung about his neck.

  They had been handed white cards filled with multicolored stamps, been informed of the rules in the training plaza, and brought here. Currently, Kyousuke and the others stood at the foot of a steep mountain that towered over a forest not too far from the House of Limbo. Fifteen minutes had already passed since the game had begun, signaled by a high-pitched whistle from each of the Public Morals Committee members’ fixed positions.

  “Oh dear, oh my, wh-wwwh-what’ll we do… Oh no.”

  “What’ll we do? …Well, there’s nothing to do but go across, is there?”

  Kyousuke and the others stood before a deep ravine. Peering down the cliffside, Maina’s body trembled. The river running along the bottom of the canyon appeared to be an impossible distance away.

  Across this ravine stretched a single rickety bridge that seemed as if it might snap any minute. It swayed and groaned ominously in the fierce wind over a span from which there quite clearly could be no rescue if one were to fall. Sloth, which Kyousuke and the others had chosen as their first goal, was across that bridge.

  They had checked the surrounding area to be sure—there was no other path to the checkpoint. As Eiri had said, there was nothing to do but cross the bridge…

  “It’s okay, Maina! If it looks too hard, I can carry you.”

  “Eh?! Uh, um…well, see…I’m fine!” Despite what she had said, Maina certainly didn’t seem fine, as she stared at the bridge, quaking.

  “…Don’t work yourself up too much, okay?” Kyousuke scratched the back of his head, preparing to offer Maina a lift on his shoulders.

  “Hyeeeaaahhh! What an easy victory this iiiiiis! Gya-ha-ha!”

  Wrapped in full-body bandages, a male student sporting a bright red Mohawk charged full speed at the bridge.

  He was the final member of their group, and had previously been resting, as Kurumiya had been beating the hell out of him since first thing in the morning.

  “Wait, idiot! What are you thinking, dashing out there by yourself?!”

  “……?!”

  As Eiri shouted an angry warning, Kyousuke’s imagination conjured an image of his Mohawk-headed classmate bravely tackling the bridge, treading overenthusiastically on the scaffolding, and falling headlong down to the ravine floor. Not to mention:

  “If even one squad member goes missing, your squad will be immediately disqualified and subject to compulsory condemnation.”

  “Hey, Mohawk! Wait uuuuuuup!”

  “Bwuh?!”

  Kyousuke forcefully stopped Mohawk, who had tried to slip past them, with a lariat. The impact of Kyousuke’s arm against his Adam’s apple sent Mohawk sprawling in an impromptu somersault. He hit the ground hard and stopped moving.

  “Phew… Man, that was close. You nearly died there!”

  “…Isn’t he dead?”

  “H-he might be dead…”

  Peering down at Mohawk, who lay twitching with his eyes rolled back, Eiri and Maina mumbled to each other.

  “No, he’s gotta be alive… It’s Mohawk, after all.”

  “…You’re right. He’s alive… It is Mohawk, after all.”

  “Oh dearie me, but, but, of course… Yep, he’s alive. It is Mr. Mohawk, after all.”

  “That’s right, we only have to reach the checkpoint ‘with all squad members present,’ right? I don’t see any problem with carrying him with us unconscious.”

  Nodding, Kyousuke lifted Mohawk onto his back with a grunt. …Heavy! Crossing the bridge like this would be dangerous, but still much safer than if Mohawk were to wake up. If we let him go, he’s sure to raise hell… “Well, then…what do you think, Maina? If you like, after I leave
him on the other side, I can come back and carry you over.”

  “Uh…no, I’m fine! I’ll try my best!” She shook her head at Kyousuke’s considerate offer, clenching her fists tightly. Although she still looked anxious, perhaps Maina’s fears had been allayed by Mohawk’s reckless enthusiasm, for her trembling had somewhat steadied.

  “If it gets too hard, just ask!” Kyousuke announced, and turned toward the bridge.

  “…Okay. Well, let’s cross carefully.”

  Kyousuke placed a foot on one weather-beaten, half-rotted log. With his left hand grasping the rope that acted as a handrail, and his right hand supporting Mohawk, Kyousuke began to move forward. Behind him followed Maina, and Eiri brought up the rear.

  They advanced step by step across the loose scaffolding, trying to avoid the large gaps that yawned between rungs, each one big enough for their shoes to slip through sideways. The bridge swayed under their unsteady feet, chunks of loose bark falling to the distant ground below…

  “Ah…eeeeeeeeek!!” At a sudden fierce gust of wind, Maina clung to the ropes, crouching in place. Large teardrops appeared in the corners of her tightly shut eyes.

  “…Hey, are you really all right? I could also carry you if you want…,” Eiri offered anxiously. She hadn’t even bothered to grab hold of the rope, and was striding across the rickety bridge as though she were walking on solid ground, even occasionally letting a yawn slip out.

  As composed as she was, it seemed that she could easily carry Maina on her back. Maina, however, would not hear of it.

  “I’m fine, Eiri! I-I’ll c-cross…b-by m-myself…” Still gripping the side ropes with both hands, she stood unsteadily. “I-I alone must…drag my feet…by myself!” Pursing her lips, and trying to control her body’s trembling, she looked onward with determined eyes.

  “Maina…”

  “…Okay, I understand. Well, it’s only a little bit further, so let’s do our best.”

  Kyousuke was deeply moved by Maina’s courage, and even Eiri smiled. Certain that she could continue, they turned again to face their goal.

 

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