Murder Princess and the Summer Death Camp

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  Maina nervously returned the greeting. “Ah…a p-pleasure!”

  Renko lifted her gas mask. “…Hm?”

  “First of all, everyone…you worked very hard on the Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering. I know that it was quite an intense exercise, so I’m glad that you all returned unharmed.” Placing a hand on her chest, Shamaya breathed a sigh of relief.

  Plated in front of her, still sizzling from the skillet, was a thick T-bone steak. There was no comparing it to the grilled “meat” that Kyousuke and the others were choking down; it even smelled luxurious. This was just another example of the disparity in social standing that existed between the Public Morals Committee and ordinary students.

  As she cut into the perfectly cooked beef using an ornate silver fork and knife, Shamaya continued speaking in her refined accent. Maina, who was holding a thin strip of pork between her plastic chopsticks, gulped. “…W-wow, that looks delicious.”

  “Among other things, that last one-on-one fight for the finish… That made my heart leap! There was no way to predict which one of you would lose and be condemned… It was so thrilling and tense! Thank you for allowing me to see that incredible contest!”

  “…D-don’t mention it.”

  It may have been interesting to watch from a third-person perspective, but for those involved it had been a desperate, painful struggle. No one seemed to know quite how to react to her enthusiastic tone. Kyousuke and his group, who had won, were fine hearing about it. The problem was—

  “Is that so? Was it interesting? I’m so glad…kksshh!”

  —Renko was sitting right there. Renko, who had, just a little while ago, suffered through miserable torment because of that contest. Her muffled groans sounded uncharacteristically sullen. However…

  “Oh-ho-ho, yes, it really was wonderful! Especially right after the contest was settled, when you crumpled down to the ground, I could see your glittering tears. Despite the fact that you were wearing a gas mask, I could see them clearly! I myself began to tear up in sympathy… ‘How pathetic,’ I thought! The breasts which you had seemed so proud of just this morning at the stream bank—to think that, on the very same day, they would bring about such a tragedy! How cruel, how pitiful, how laughable… From the bottom of my heart, I felt sympathy for you. I felt so bad… Oh, you truly are pitiable!” Shamaya blotted at the tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyes with a white lace handkerchief.

  Her words couldn’t be interpreted as simple sarcasm, but her phrasing somehow incorporated a nuance of ridicule. Was it spontaneous? Or was it on purpose…?

  There was a click sound from around the temple of the gas mask.

  Shamaya did not notice. Dabbing at her cheeks, she continued speaking: “Oh, you must excuse me… However, you all should know that the difficulties, hardships, and disgraces that you have undergone are leading the way toward a shining future. Your stagnant souls, and warped natures, and rotten morals…we shall cleanse them, purify them. In order to complete your splendid rehabilitation, the teachers will crack the whip. It’s the whip of love! …So please cheer up, Miss Gas Mask. Your filthy soul is one step closer to purification, in equal proportion to the pain you’ve suffered. That’s how I think about it. …Come now, wipe those tears! Raise your head, puff up your chest and look ahead, then take a step forward! Walk down the shining road that connects you to your newly rehabilitated future!”

  “Yep, she can die.”

  “…You said it, she can die all right.”

  Renko and Eiri spit out their retorts in sync.

  “Wha…?” Shamaya—with her hands pressed together as if in prayer, looking off into the air with glittering eyes—gasped in bewilderment. She bit her lip hard. “I see, this is… You two seem to be quite seriously ill. Perhaps Mr. Kamiya is acting as a negative influence… Your minds are seriously twisted.”

  “Huh? My fault?”

  No way, I was just sitting here quietly and I got pulled into it… Shamaya on his left, Eiri on his right, Renko in front of him. It all left Kyousuke in the middle while tension filled the air between the three young women.

  What is this, a bed of nails…?

  “Waaahhh…” Next to Renko, Maina had curled herself into a tight ball.

  “Our minds are ‘twisted,’ huh…? Aren’t you the one whose mind is twisted, saying such a thing? One person’s fault is another person’s lesson, so how about rehabilitating your own mind first?”

  At Renko’s provocation, Shamaya’s eyebrows twitched. “…My mind is twisted? It is decidedly no such thing! After all, I am a Public Morals Committee member. Hand selected and approved by the teachers as an elite student—a representative of other elites! If by any chance my mind were to bear some sinful stain, that would be a stain on the whole Public Morals Committee. Why, it would be a stain on the teachers as well! Such a thing cannot be! Therefore, I must at all times have an affectionate heart and a mind that is as pure as the Virgin Mary, reacting to everything with tolerance and acceptance…”

  “Stuuupid, stuuupid! Shamaya, you dumb bunny! Stuuupid, stuuupid! Nyyyah!”

  “Yes, I react with tolerance and accept—Who are you calling a dumb bunny?!” Shamaya snapped at Renko, who had been hurling the childish insults.

  Renko laughed triumphantly. “Kksshh! Whoa whoa whoa! Wasn’t it ‘I must at all times have an affectionate heart (ha!) and a mind that is as pure as the Virgin Mary (ha!), reacting to everything with tolerance (ha!) and accepting all things (ha!),’ Shamaya sweetie?”

  “…Sweetie? Oh, oh-ho-ho… Please address your upperclassmen appropriately! And I’ll thank you to cease that poor mimicry.”

  “My goodness, I beg your pardon! Heavens, I just got caught up in the moment. I’ll thank you to forgive me, Miss Shamaya sweetie! Oh-ho-kksshh!”

  “”

  All expression vanished from Shamaya’s face as she stared at Renko.

  Eiri snickered.

  “Oh deaaaar, don’t laugh, Eiri! Don’t—”

  “Yes, Miss Eiri. No matter how much of a noble (ha!) elite student (ha!) who must at all times have an affectionate heart (ha!) and a mind that is as pure as the Virgin Mary (ha!), reacting to everything with tolerance (ha!) and accepting all things (ha!) dear sweet Miss Shamaya may be, there is a limit! I’m going to become cross any time now! Extremely, absurdly huffy, I say.”

  “Huff?! Huff…puff…”

  “”

  Even Maina was holding back laughter as Renko continued her incorrigible farce.

  The light went out of Shamaya’s eyes as she watched everyone. Making fists around her knife and fork…

  “That’s enough, you guys!!” Kyousuke interjected. “Making fun of your elders—”

  “Oh…oh-ho…oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!”

  Shamaya, who had hung her head when Kyousuke scolded them, began to shake and tremble, and when she lifted her face, she wore a wide smile. It was a top-notch smile, the likes of which could unquestionably set the minds of those who saw it at ease.

  “…Oh-ho-ho! You ladies are quite amusing! A bit too amusing; I forgot myself for a moment. Certainly, we should speak again… However, you must pardon me; I’ll be taking my leave now, as there is much to prepare. Won’t you please enjoy the rest of your meal?” Saying this, Shamaya rose from her seat. The whole time she spoke, her face stayed frozen like a serene mask.

  Renko tilted her head. “…Prepare? Preparations to kill us, could it be? Kksshh.”

  “Oh-ho-ho…surely you jest. Preliminary preparations for the next item on the program—the campfire! We Public Morals Committee members are always busy with one thing or another. Speaking of which, I must bid you all adieu… Oh, and by the way, I will allow you, in the gas mask, to finish my meal. Please, relish it without restraint!” Leaving behind these kind words and the untouched portion of her steak, Shamaya calmly walked away.

  Renko gave a long, mechanical sigh and stared at the meat, which had been cut into bite-sized pieces. “I can’t eat so
mething solid like this with my mask on… Is she trying to harass me?”

  “Mmm…”

  “But, since she already gave it to me, I guess I’ll give it to Maina.”

  “Really?! Thank you so much! …What about everyone else?”

  “…I don’t need it.”

  “I’m fine, too… Somehow my appetite just disappeared.” As he answered, Kyousuke held his abdomen. From the first to the last, the whole situation had made his stomach turn sour.

  Kyousuke, whose heart had been pounding when he thought Shamaya might flip out, glared at Renko and the others with reproach. “You guys please behave yourselves next time! I don’t think you’ve forgotten, but I’ll say it just in case… That girl has killed twenty-one people… She’s the former Murder Princess!

  “…Former. Now she’s rehabilitated, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, according to her! Kksshh. She had a very familiar smell to her… I bet if we’d prodded a little more strongly, you know, given her the old in-and-out, she would have shown us a different face.”

  “Don’t say ‘the old in-and-out.’” Kyousuke gave a strained smile. “Good grief, girl.”

  Shamaya had an eerie, even frightening air about her. But now that Renko had calmed down, everyone seemed to have returned to their usual demeanors and begun to energetically consume their meals.

  “Ohhh, so tender! The juice is overflowing…” Maina held her cheeks while, next to her, Renko sipped a jelly pack with a “Sluuurp…sluuurp…” Even Eiri relaxed and resumed eating, and for the first time in a long time, a harmonious atmosphere hung over the group.

  In this pleasant atmosphere, Kyousuke recalled the prison camping schedule.

  “After this, a campfire is scheduled. ‘Inferno Campfire,’ huh? ‘Inferno’…that’s like the fires of hell and purgatory or whatever, right? I wonder how it’s different from a regular campfire…”

  The world blazed scarlet.

  Boisterous laughter roared through the darkness, through a sea of drifting sparks.

  “Hya-haaaaaa! Sterilize the fiiiiiiiiiiiilth!”

  A large man with a red Mohawk waved a massive flamethrower, dousing a village in fire. On his fiendish, piercing-riddled face was an expression of wild ecstasy. Shuddering in fear of this brutal visitor, people ran about trying to escape, like scattering baby spiders. Mohawk relentlessly poured the baptismal flame over the buildings and their inhabitants alike.

  “Eeeeeekkk! Grandpa…Grandpaaa!” Kneeling before an old man who had been “sterilized” by the flamethrower, a young girl screamed in grief.

  Perhaps she had tripped while escaping—his body, which he had thrown on top of the young girl, hoping to protect her, was engulfed in the violence of the flamethrower, and set ablaze.

  “Grandpa…Grandpa! Waaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!” The girl, who had had one of her blood relatives snatched away before her eyes, wept and wailed. Tears cascading from her eyes, she faced the still-burning corpse, and started to crawl closer. The flamethrower was thrust before her nose.

  A cruel, smiling face, illuminated by the fire, looked down at the girl as she raised her eyes, her slim shoulders trembling. As his smile intensified at the sight of the girl attempting to retreat, Mohawk brought his finger to the trigger without hesitation.

  “—That’s far enough.” Suddenly a different voice, deeper than Mohawk’s, cut through the hazy darkness.

  His fun interrupted, Mohawk turned around to look behind him. “Huuuh?”

  Standing there was a boy wearing a worn-out overcoat.

  “What the hell, you bastard… Do you want me to burn you to death? Are you suicidal, hmmm?”

  “Suicidal? No way! I’m a nomadic wanderer. I roam this land on foot seeking strong people, and drink the blood of the warriors I kill… I’m a common, nameless killer.” Sharp eyes peered out from under the hood, piercing the villain of conflagration. By his side, this newcomer held loosely in one hand eleven multicolored Mohawks—eleven freshly severed heads.

  “…Hyah?” Perplexed, Mohawk watched the youth toss the grisly display before him; his gaze remained fixed on the remains of his compatriots.

  “You’re the only one left! Will you let me collect your Mohawk, too?” As he removed his hood, the youth’s ferocious eyes fixed on his last quarry.

  Mohawk flinched, just barely, before recovering his bravado. “You bastard! How dare you do this to my dear Mohawk family… I-I won’t forgive this! If you want forgiveness, you must be purified by my own hand!! Otherwise…” Letting go of the flamethrower, he grabbed the girl, who had been trying to quietly slip away in the disturbance. He pinned her hands behind her back and pulled a knife from his breast pocket. He pressed the blade against her throat with a grin. “I don’t care what happens to this little lady! Gya-ha-ha!”

  “……”

  The youth’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Ee…eee…eeeeeeeeeeeekkk!! Save me! Please save meeeeee! My life! Just spare my liiiiiiiiiiiife!” Captured in his muscular arms, the girl wept and pleaded.

  Looking back at her trembling eyes, the youth spoke, his voice icy. “Hm…you idiot. Did you think you could subdue me with such a poor threat? This is the end of the century. Order has been broken, public morals are disturbed, and in this society where justice has rotted away, it’s survival of the fittest! A simple and clear world where the weak are only fit for death, and the strong survive. I won’t be the slightest bit agitated if you kill that girl. I’m a coldhearted killer myself, because in this world where everything is dying, I am the wandering demonic killer who puts everything to death—uh, hey. Wait just a second. You bastard…what are you doing to Maina, Mohawk?”

  Suddenly going off script, the wandering demonic killer—Kyousuke—glared at Mohawk. Before his anger-filled gaze was the girl—Maina, who was wearing a white dress, and Mohawk, who had her arms pinned behind her. Mohawk was groping her, using the scene for cover.

  “Hya-ha-ha! You’re surprisingly well developed for such a tiny thing, aren’t ya, little missy!”

  “Eeeeeek!! Wh-wwwwh-what are you doing?! St-stop that! Sto… Noooooooooooo!!” Maina screamed and struggled, but he restrained her with one arm, preventing escape, and groped her body all over.

  A vein bulged on Kyousuke’s forehead. He cracked the knuckles in his fists.

  “Hya-ha! This clumsy girl is mine!”

  “Mohawk.”

  “…Hya-ha?”

  “This time I’m really going to kill you, once and for aaaaaaaaaaaalll!!”

  “Hurk!!”

  Taking a fist to the nose, Mohawk went flying, scattering the eleven freshly severed Mohawked heads—stage props made from paper and clay—and plunged into the flames that surrounded them.

  “Owowowowow!!”

  From off stage, Kurumiya rushed over to the agonized Mohawk, carrying a bucket.

  “What the! H-hurry up and extinguish the… Whaaaaaaaaat?!

  “Hyuh? Waaaaaaaaaaaah?!”

  Kurumiya swung the bucket, splashing Mohawk with its contents. It was not water but rather a large quantity of oil.

  Body ablaze from head to toe, Mohawk rolled around on the ground. Meanwhile, Kurumiya wiped the sweat from her brow. “…Phew. Looks like I managed to get to you in time…good.”

  “It’s no good, Miss Kurumiya! It’s not the least bit good! Public Morals Committee members, hurry! Please quickly extinguish the fire.” Said members sprang into action at Busujima’s instruction, surrounding Mohawk with fire extinguishers in hand and activating them all at once.

  Enveloped in the cloud of white dust, Eiri, who was watching the situation with microphone in hand, yawned slightly—“…Fwah”—only to resume narrating in a bored monotone.

  “…The end. This concludes the performance by Class A Squad Four—our ‘End of the World’ skit.”

  Applause echoed around the fire pit. Kyousuke and his group stood in the center, surrounded by students, who were themselves surrounded by brightly blazing flames.

&n
bsp; They were not sitting around the campfire, but encircled by it. This was it, the Inferno Campfire. The temperature was high enough to burn the skin, and the air was so hot that just breathing seemed to scald the lungs.

  Kyousuke huffed a sigh of relief, having somehow survived their “performance” in this extreme environment. Looking sideways as Mohawk—who was white from the top of his head to the tips of his toes—was loaded onto a stretcher and hauled away, Kyousuke extended a hand to poor Maina. “You had a terrible time, didn’t you, Maina…? Can you stand?”

  “Ah…y-yes…sorry. Oh dear.”

  “…Tch. For once, I thought he was being serious about acting…and then this! Time after time, he really won’t learn his lesson no matter how many times he’s taught. That asshole. I hope he never comes back again.”

  Their skit concluded, Kyousuke and the others met up with Eiri, who had been in charge of narration, and returned to their own spots. The flames roared behind them; it was incredibly hot.

  Sweating bullets, they drank greedily from their water bottles.

  In the center of the circle, Shamaya moved the show along. “Thank you very much, everyone in Class A Squad Four. You were able to present the cruelty exuding from the wandering demonic killer quite realistically. As one would expect from true killers! Well, then…let’s move on to the final squad. From Class B Squad Four, we’ll have—

  “—the ‘Murder Rap.’”

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, the pounding rhythm of a drumbeat echoed through the circle. Four students, wearing their school tracksuits, simultaneously leaped up and walked toward the center of the fire pit, clapping to the beat.

  “Don, don, tcha! Don, don, tcha!”

  In turn, the sound of a bass also entered the mix, though no instruments were visible. However, one of the students—the female student wearing a black gas mask—was holding a mic up to her mouth. The drum and bass sounds seemed to be originating from her. She was beatboxing.

  Before long the four of them arrived in the center of the stage, and after a harsh record scratch, their musical performance stopped with a sound like a machine shutting down, and they all froze on the spot.