Murder Princess and the Summer Death Camp

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  The incident in the bathroom replayed vividly in his mind…

  “No, no! Stop it, Kyousuke.” He shook his head vigorously, to throw out the mental images. “You can’t afford to lose any more blood today…” He was already feeling slightly anemic. Kyousuke quickened his pace, wanting nothing more than to rest.

  “Whoa whoa whoa, now! Who could that be but Mr. Kamiya, just out of the bath!”

  The tiresome trio awaited him by the corner near the stairs. It was the three of them—Shinji, Usami, and Oonogi. Dressed in their uniforms with tracksuits and towels in hand, they must have been headed for the bath. No sooner had they recognized Kyousuke, however, than Usami and Oonogi nimbly moved to surround him.

  “Yo, Kamiya! We got you alone for once, huh? What the hell’s up with those nose plugs? Was the bath too hot, and the blood rushed to your head? Ha-ha-ha, that’s rich! What an idiot, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

  “Hee-hee-hee…anemia leads to liver… Gouge out the liver, make him eat it…hee-hee-hee-hee!”

  Oonogi pointed and laughed at the tissues stuffed up his nose, and Usami moved in from behind to stroke Kyousuke’s abdomen. Shinji’s facial expression implied something unsavory.

  “Well, we owe you our thanks. You really helped us out during the Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering. Yes, very much so…hee-hee-hee. Did the bath feel good?” Despite his broad grin, there was nothing friendly in Shinji’s eyes.

  After they had been beaten down during the Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering and lost their Deadly Sins Card, Shinji had met with Busujima’s discipline, and then been kicked in the crotch by Eiri. He was probably stressed out.

  Th-this is not good…they’re practically drooling at the thought of killing me, aren’t they? This is really bad… Kyousuke briskly scratched his damp head and forced an insincere smile. “Uh, yeah…it was a good bath. It’s superhot, though. Be careful you don’t get burned! Well, then, I’ll be going this wa—”

  “Now, now! What’s the hurry, Mr. Kamiya?”

  Before Kyousuke could make an exit, he found his escape blocked. Stuck between a wall on the left and Oonogi on the right, Shinji in front and Usami behind, Kyousuke was boxed in. His pulse quickened.

  “H-hey…you’re wasting your bath time, you know?”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that, Mr. Kamiya… We’ll be finished soon enough anyway. Heh-heh…” Shinji handed his tracksuit to Oonogi and, holding the ends of his towel with both now-free hands, looped it around Kyousuke’s neck. “As I promised Miss Eiri, I won’t raise a hand to you! Not a hand…you see?”

  The strangler’s pale brown eyes narrowed as he crossed the towel over Kyousuke’s throat.

  Crap. By now Kyousuke had surmised his opponent’s intentions, but faster than he could react, Shinji prepared to yank the noose tight.

  “You there! Whatever are you doing?”

  At the sudden sound of a girl’s voice, the four boys froze.

  When they looked, behind Shinji—almost near enough to touch him—stood a female student with honey-colored hair. They had noticed neither her presence in the corridor, nor her quick approach. It was like she had materialized in the few seconds that everyone was focused on Shinji’s hands…

  “Wha—?!” Startled, Shinji leaped away, letting go of the towel.

  Moving nimbly, the female student—the beautiful girl wearing a yellow armband emblazoned with the words Public Morals Committee, placed herself between them, as if to protect Kyousuke, and faced Shinji.

  “Good evening, first-years. I believe this is the first time we have met. I am Saki Shamaya, third-year Class A and Public Morals Committee chair. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Miss Sha-Shamaya…” Kyousuke stammered, eyes wide.

  Shamaya gave him a perfectly composed smile. “How do you do, Mr. Kamiya? Are these gentlemen your friends, by chance?” She looked pointedly at Shinji, Usami, and Oonogi in turn.

  “Huh? Uh, no…I wouldn’t say they’re friends. Rather…how to put it—”

  “Best friends! We’re his best friends! Hee-hee-hee…” Seizing the opportunity presented by Kyousuke’s hesitation, Shinji cut in on the conversation with this outrageous lie.

  “…You’re…best friends?” Shamaya was suspicious.

  Shinji nodded his head reassuringly. “That’s right!” He flashed Shamaya an affable grin. “Lovely to meet you, miss. I’m Shinji Saotome, in the same classroom as Mr. Kamiya. At any rate, you’re really beautiful, aren’t you! Too beautiful, even. Why, for a moment I thought you might be an angel!”

  “Well…!” Shamaya held her blushing cheeks in delight. Shinji’s white teeth gleamed.

  …Shinji, you bastard. You started in with the flattery just at the critical moment.

  Oonogi, thinking to take advantage of this turn of events, shouted out his own self-introduction. “I’m a dear friend, too! Best friend Arata Oonogi! Pleased to meet you, Miss Shamaya!” He wore a grungy, lascivious smirk.

  The tense atmosphere in the corridor had completely evaporated.

  “Oh-ho-ho! Is that how it is? It’s so nice that you are close friends.” Smiling, Shamaya nodded satisfactorily. And then, as if she had suddenly remembered something important, she continued, “By the way…

  “Why, then, were you preparing to strangle your best friend?”

  Her tone had instantly changed; it was soft and delicate and refined as before, but now carried a dreadful quality that seemed to crush any hope of argument. Shinji’s and Oonogi’s smiles stiffened, and the air was once again tense.

  “Eh? N-no, Miss… Strangling would be—”

  “You did do it, of course?”

  “…Yes, I did. But we were only playing around—”

  “However, you did indeed start to strangle him?”

  “…Yes, I did.”

  Her curt words cut through Shinji’s smooth talk, and his eyes darted around the hall. Shamaya put her left hand on her hip, and pointed her right index finger at Shinji.

  “Listen up, Mr. Saotome! Whatever the reason, you tried to strangle Mr. Kamiya… It’s not your motive but your conduct that is the problem. You must show self-control, self-discipline, self-admonition! This was only the first time, so I shall overlook it, but…next time, I will be forced to take appropriate action! Do you understand?”

  Thoroughly scolded, Shinji hung his head dejectedly. “…I’m sorry.”

  Dropping her hand, Shamaya nodded in apparent satisfaction. “Oh-ho-ho! The important thing is that you recognize your mistake. Violence will not be tolerated, you see… Yes, violence is completely unacceptable. Even supposing you did have some kind of reason—”

  “Hee-hee-hee…upperclassman panties…Public Morals Committee members also wear black and white stripes…hee-hee-hee.” Usami, who had crept around behind Shamaya, chose that moment to lift up her skirt, boldly exposing her undergarments to all, and brought his face near—

  “Gyah!!” Instantly, the sole of an indoor slipper caved in Usami’s face. His small frame tumbled through the air, spraying the walls with blood. After tumbling thirty feet or more down the corridor, he finally came to a stop.

  —The atmosphere also stopped dead.

  “…M-Miss Shamaya?” Still hugging the wall, as he’d done to avoid Usami’s flight path, Kyousuke looked back at her.

  Shamaya stood there silently, her left leg—which had delivered the blow with menacing speed—neatly back in place, as if nothing had happened. Eventually, a dry laugh, “Oh-ho-ho,” slipped from her lips. “…What’s this? Oh, goodness me! I reacted entirely by reflex… You have my sincerest apologies! I have no ill will against you! No ill will at all!”

  Lying faceup, Usami convulsed, blood gushing from his broken nose—he was out cold. This was the power of her full-force backward kick.

  “Huh?!” Shinji and Oonogi shouted in unison.

  Turning to face them, Shamaya said by way of apology, “Because that gentleman crept up behind me so silently…I ins
tantly moved to eliminate him, acting on an imprinted conditioned reflex. In other words, that was an accident just now! An accident! I absolutely never exercise violence because I want to! That’s why…”

  “However, miss, no matter what reasons you might have…” Shinji began back-talking. “Violence is forbidden, you just said—”

  “—What’s that?”

  “Eee!! N-nnn-nothing at aaaaaaall!” With a squeal, Shinji leaped into Oonogi’s arms.

  “You don’t have to be scared, it’s okay!” Shamaya’s voice was soft and kindly; she hoped to set the two of them at ease. They held on to each other and trembled. “Certainly, I am the former Murder Princess. However, I have been rehabilitated. Of course I do not commit murder, nor engage in cannibalism… I will not even exercise violence of my own volition! I certainly don’t hang people upside down while they’re still alive, and flay them with a knife, and pour hydrochloric acid into a hole I put in their cranium with an electric drill! I don’t even properly prepare human bodies by draining the blood from them, then dismantling and preserving them and savoring them in a meunière or fried cutlet! And then, and then—”

  “S-sss-sorry! We’re sorryyyyyyyyy…!”

  “…Hm?”

  Shuddering as Shamaya began to speak with a certain enthusiasm in her voice, Shinji and Oonogi had prostrated themselves on the floor before fleeing in a full-speed dash. Slipping past the wide-eyed Shamaya, they picked up Usami and disappeared as fast as they could, leaving behind only Shamaya and Kyousuke.

  “H-how unreasonable… I said I wasn’t going to do anything to them. What rude boys!” Placing her hands on her hips, Shamaya looked genuinely offended, though Kyousuke thought that Shinji’s and Oonogi’s reactions had been more than reasonable. He certainly would have taken any chance to escape.

  What did she mean by “imprinted conditioned reflex”? Scary! She’s already at the level of a professional killer! And the murders she committed are definitely awful! I really don’t want to get too deeply involved with this one…

  “That was certainly something of a calamity, wasn’t it, Mr. Kamiya?” Walking side by side with Kyousuke, Shamaya spoke in an anxious voice. She had insisted on escorting him back to his room.

  “You said it…” With a bitter smile, Kyousuke surreptitiously let out a sigh. Speaking of calamities…the current situation certainly qualified.

  She’s not going to start anything with you! She’s the Public Morals Committee chair after all, so there’s nothing to worry about…right? Thinking back on the incident a short while ago, he waited to see what the dazzling Shamaya would do.

  The corridor was deserted aside from the two of them, and a deep silence had settled in. Is it my imagination, or are we purposely taking a detour to pass through an area with few people—

  “Mr. Kyousuke Kamiya.”

  “Y-yes?!” His voice cracked as he answered, surprised to be addressed by his full name.

  Her eyes, like precious emeralds, observed Kyousuke in silence.

  “……?!” The twinkle in her eyes took Kyousuke’s breath away.

  “You…you’ve killed twelve people, is that right?” she asked. The sound of her voice was as gentle as ever, but her tone was probing, quizzical. As if to ask, “Did you really do it?”

  “Yeah. I did, but…wh-what’s the matter all of a sudden?” He could feel the sweat running down his back.

  In reality he hadn’t even killed one person, but the fact that he had been sent to the academy on a false charge was something that he revealed only to those people who were very close to him. He had no intention of revealing it to her.

  Kyousuke was trying to dodge the question, but Shamaya shook her head and said, “It’s rather unexpected that you have killed so many, as I had believed you to be a decent person. Even when I tried walking with you in this deserted place, you did not engage in any suspicious conduct.” She sighed. Of course: She had chosen this path not so that she could start something with Kyousuke, but so that she could confirm that he would not start anything with her.

  Kyousuke stared at Shamaya in profile, feeling like a complete fool. This girl—the Murder Princess who had killed twenty-one people—gazed ahead with clear eyes. From her lips, words spilled softly, as though she were speaking only to herself.

  “I am told that, for the most part, those who perpetrate abnormal crimes, such as mass killings, are the products of abnormal environments. Excessive abuse and chastisement, physical violence, sexual violence, withholding of affection… Those kinds of abnormal homes raise individuals with abnormal spirits, who tend toward abnormal behavior—or so I am told. This may be true of most killers who go down in history for their crimes, or who end up enrolled at this academy. When I listen to everyone talk about their past, even though it has nothing to do with me, their experiences all feel unbearable.”

  Hand on her chest, Shamaya continued: “I was different. I was born and raised in quite a mundane household. With a full-blooded Japanese father, and a French-American mother…their relationship was harmonious, and they raised me, their only child, with great care and affection. Both of my parents were often busy with work, and they took many business trips, and we moved frequently. But, nevertheless, they took vacations for my birthdays and made time to celebrate for me. I think they were perfect, wonderful parents. Thanks to them I was raised soundly, and my personal relations were also satisfactory. Truly…they were great people.”

  Speaking with her eyes closed, Shamaya’s expression was calm. The warmth she felt for her family was radiant. It was exactly why she was so frightening. According to the story that Kurumiya had told during the departure ceremony, Shamaya had killed those very same parents with her own hands. Which would be one thing if the environment in which she had been born and raised was abnormal; however, Shamaya had said that hers had been completely normal. Normal, with no complaints to speak of.

  …If that was the case, then why? What could have warped Shamaya, and driven her to commit such terrible crimes?

  Kyousuke was about to voice the question, when Shamaya smiled meaningfully. “Before you ask, I have a question for you: Do you like your family?”

  “Uh…” The moment she asked, one person filled Kyousuke’s mind. He hadn’t seen her for over half a year, but her appearance, and voice, and gestures, and scent, the flavor of her cooking, and her smiling face, everything, all of it—he remembered it clearly, almost too vividly.

  All the more because they had been separated, Kyousuke felt how much he cherished her. “…Yeah, I like them. Although, like you, Miss Shamaya, my parents are extremely busy. I have a sister two years younger than me, and she’s incredibly important to me.”

  “My, is that so? You have a sister complex, do you?”

  “Ha-ha…probably. I’m always causing her trouble, and I’m no match for her.” Kyousuke brushed his cheek bashfully. Thinking about it, this was the first time he had really discussed the subject of his family here at the academy. As Shamaya had said, everyone seemed to have had a hard time in one way or another… The number of students who, like Kyousuke and Shamaya, had been born and raised in normal circumstances, was likely very small.

  “Oh-ho-ho. It seems that somehow the two of us have a mutual bond, no?”

  Shamaya smiled broadly, as if she had read his thoughts.

  “M-mutual bond…”

  Even if that’s a joke, give me a break. Kyousuke was a mundane, ordinary person from a mundane, ordinary family. Not a murderer. They had both been born and raised in normal families—but Shamaya, the Murder Princess who killed twenty-one people, was fundamentally different. Though, he could not possibly tell her the truth…

  Shamaya peered at Kyousuke with her dazzling eyes. “Mr. Kamiya…I have become very interested in you. You are different from the others. I feel something. I want to know more… I want you to tell me.”

  “”

  At a loss for words, Kyousuke stood, frozen.

  After staring at him
wordlessly for a short while, Shamaya quickly turned her gaze away. “…In any case, it’s time for good boys and girls to get to bed.” They had finally arrived at one of the single cells—she was pointing at Kyousuke’s room. “I’m going to go take my bath now, so I will take my leave here.”

  “Uh…y-yes of course! Thank you for going out of your way to accompany me.” Still bewildered, Kyousuke bowed his head.

  Shamaya gave him another smile. “You needn’t thank me. Oh-ho-ho…let’s speak again, shall we? I’m looking forward to it! Relax and rest your body tonight, and please give it your best again tomorrow, okay? Well, then, Mr. Kamiya, have a good night, and pleasant dreams.”

  She curtsied, lifting her skirt by the hem, before leaving. Some time after her retreating figure had disappeared, and the sound of her footsteps could no longer be heard, Kyousuke allowed himself to relax.

  “Sigh…paired up with a serial killer, huh? Give me a break. My life span is shrinking by the day.” Especially after she asked me, “Did you kill twelve people?” My heart was racing the whole time! I think I might have overdone it a little…

  But it seemed like she had taken a strange interest in him. One way or another, in the end, Shamaya’s reasons for committing murder were still unclear.

  “Can there really be two more days left of this…? After a first day like this, it’s going to be hard going. I’m begging here, please don’t let this trouble continue any further!” Praying to anyone who would listen, he threw himself down on the bed.

  Mind and body at their limits, Kyousuke soon fell into a deep sleep—

  Purgatorium Remedial Academy’s Prison Camping Trip.

  The hellish first day somehow came to a quiet (?) end.

  Unbreakable Breakdown

  PEACE BREAKER / TROUBLEMAKER

  DAY TWO IN PURGATORY

  The morning of the second day dawned with clear weather, the same as the day before. Soon after waking, the students performed rigorous fatigue duty out in the woods: picking up garbage in the forest, doing laundry in a waterfall, weeding while climbing a precipitous cliff, repairing the bridge across a vast ravine… When they had finished Kurumiya’s foot massage and other assorted tasks, Kyousuke and the others finally sat down to a meal.