Murder Princess and the Summer Death Camp

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  It was an explosive situation. Their eyes were locked, as if they might kill each other at any moment.

  Even though he was nervous inside, Kyousuke tried valiantly to smooth things over. “H-hey, you two…quit fighting, would you? Okay? Big boobs and small boobs, each one has their charms. A-B-C-D-E-F-G, everyone’s different and that’s okay with me! Well, that just about solves it. Let’s stop fighting? Love and peace and boobies! …Okay? Understand?”

  “FUCK.”

  “Huh?”

  Shamaya and Eiri raised their middle fingers to show Kyousuke what they thought of his intrusion. Kyousuke was shocked and dumbfounded with the scornful eyes of two beautiful girls turned on him.

  “…Well? What were the two of you planning to do?”

  “We told you, we weren’t planning to do anything. Are you deaf?”

  —And then they resumed quarreling again. The gulf between the big-breasted Shamaya and tiny-breasted Eiri seemed to be deeper than Renko’s cleavage.

  “Y-you… At the very least, I am your elder! So be sure to watch your language. Anyway, it’s pointless to dodge my question. I saw exactly what you were doing! Mr. Kamiya is interested in nice girls like me—which is to say, seeing you, with your inferiority complex, press that skinny body up against him with a lecherous leer…it’s the perfect picture of calculated seduction! That was a splendid example of the sweet-and-sour personality type!”

  “Huh?! Wait…wh-where did you see that from, exactly?!”

  “Oh-ho-ho. Weeell now, where could it have been, I wonder?”

  “Answer me!”

  “You answer me. After the lap pillow, what were you planning to do?”

  “Huh…a-after? After the lap pillow…what are you supposed to do?”

  “Surely everyone knows that. You do XX, and XXX, and then XXXXX and XXX. After that, let’s see…from XXX you move on to XX and so on—”

  “Miss Kurumiya, she’s the one who did it!”

  “Eeek!! You’ve got it all wrong, that’s wrong! I’ve never done such things, not once! Truly, I’m pure!” Scrambling to look behind her, Shamaya realized that no one was there. “Y-you—! You planned this, didn’t you?!” She glared hatefully at Eiri, who was smiling triumphantly.

  “…Not really. You self-destructed all on your own, didn’t you? Well, what are you going to do, Miss Shamaya? Depending on your response, I may decide to communicate the various nasty words that you just uttered, in their entirety and without euphemism, to your beloved Miss Kurumiya.”

  “……?!”

  Shamaya bit her lip as Eiri delivered the threat. Her hands, which had been tightly gripping the sides of her body, slackened. Taking a deep breath, she brushed her hair back. “Hmph…n-nothing to do about it, then. The two of you were only planning to engage in the lap pillow maneuver, and are no longer doing so. This time I shall overlook it. However, listen well! This does not mean that I am intimidated by your threats. It is simply that I, with my deeeeeply compassionate heart, have seen fit to forgive your obscene attempts. You must absolutely not forget this fact.”

  “…Sure, whatever.” Eiri shrugged her shoulders.

  Shamaya threw her a sharp glance before turning on her heel. “Mr. Kamiya, you’ll do well to remember this! It is fortunate for you that I was the one who found you. Had it been any other member of the Public Morals Committee, you would have been immediately dragged away…and if you had been, you would have had no grounds to complain about being disciplined.”

  As she heaped abuse on the two of them, Kyousuke, who was sitting on the floor grasping his knees in the corner of the room, lifted his head, eyebrows raised in puzzlement. “Other Public Morals Committee members? …Discipline?”

  “Yes, that’s right. We members of the Public Morals Committee, unlike you ordinary students, are permitted the special privilege of carrying lethal weapons. Depending on the situation, we are granted the authority to discipline ordinary students on the spot, just like the teachers.”

  “Wha…?”

  Shamaya smiled at the astonished Kyousuke, an affectionate expression that would set anyone who saw it at ease. “However, you needn’t worry. I absolutely do not do such things; I can at least promise you that. I’d bet the brassiere I’m wearing now on it, certainly.”

  “…Do you really mean that?”

  “Yes, of course. If you like, I can bet my underpants, too—”

  “No, that’s not…”

  Shamaya giggled her usual pompous string of syllables at Kyousuke, who was drained of strength. “I’m joking. Only the part about not disciplining you is true. I’m a genuine pacifist… I want to get along well, even with the two of you. You are my dear underclassmen, after all. Let’s treat each other well from now on, shall we?” Smiling, Shamaya exited the room, leaving Kyousuke and Eiri with these words.

  When her footsteps had faded away, and all signs of her presence had disappeared, Kyousuke breathed a sigh of relief. “That was so close… Good thing we got away with it, huh, Eiri?”

  I thought we were done for when she saw the lap pillow thing, but—it seems like Shamaya is not a bad person after all. At least, not as bad as Kurumiya and the other teachers or the rest of the Public Morals Committee.

  “…Hm? Her boiling point is relatively low, and her line of tolerance rigidly defined, isn’t it? It’s a little unexpected.” Eiri absently played with her ponytail. “Isn’t she supposed to be the sophisticated Public Morals Committee chair?”

  It sounded like she objected to the idea that they might get along. Apparently the clash between huge breasts and tiny breasts was troublesome and ongoing. She’s on bad terms with Renko, too, this girl…

  “…Hey, Kyousuke…do you want to die that badly?”

  “Did you read my mind?!”

  “When you’re staring at someone’s chest, it’s not hard to tell what you’re thinking, you creep from the planet Boob! No wonder I can’t bring myself to be nice to you… Seriously, you’re an idiot, Kyousuke!” She stormed out of the room, ponytail swaying behind her.

  Gaping at her receding back, Kyousuke collapsed on the bed. “Maaan, she’s really pissed off. But she did save us by speaking her mind…” It was strange, but he found that he could not bring himself to get upset with his normally prickly companion.

  A little bit of loneliness, a little bit of relief—a strange feeling washed over Kyousuke as he once again arranged his luggage and left the room. Walking down the corridor, he recalled the day’s schedule.

  It was just after ten o’clock. The next item on the schedule was ‘Outdoor Cooking,’ apparently the main event of the second day. A big curry cookout.

  The Outdoor Cooking event was held at a pavilion on the grounds, which housed both stainless steel kitchen sets and traditional outdoor ovens built from concrete blocks. Under the pavilion roof, Kyousuke and the other freshmen diligently applied themselves to cooking.

  “Ah, shit… This really isn’t going well. Is this really all we need…?”

  “Oh dear, do your best! You can do it, Kyousuke, for sure!”

  Maina was putting every effort into cheering on Kyousuke, who was looking despondent. Sitting on the ground with his legs crossed, he struggled with a wooden plank and dowel.

  The friction between the upright dowel and the plank was supposed to create a spark—a primitive method for building a fire. They had neither matches nor a lighter; the only other thing that had been provided was a bit of newspaper. Students on hearth duty were expected to start a fire using only the tools they’d been given.

  Of course, their squad member Mohawk chose that moment to pull a flamethrower seemingly from thin air. “Hya-ha, let’s finish thiiiiiis!” he shouted triumphantly, preparing to set the hearth ablaze.

  “I’ll finish you!” Kurumiya snatched the flamethrower away, and burned him to a crisp. He was carried away on a stretcher.

  Kyousuke, who didn’t want to get torched himself, made an honest effort to light the fire as instructe
d, but… “Hey, you know…is this even possible? I’m getting nothing.” He wiped away sweat with the towel around his neck.

  Working in the same cooking area, the other squads on hearth duty also seemed to be fighting hard to light a fire, as weak voices came from here and there, saying things like, “My arms are at their limit…” and “I’m confident when it comes to arson, but…” and “Can’t we just eat it raw?”

  Then, from among them:

  “Paleo fire staaaaaaaaaaaarteeeeeeeeeeeer!” There was one student who worked the rod with staggering speed. A high-fashion girl with a flour sack on her head—it was Bob. As she dexterously turned the dowel at great speed between her large palms, smoke began to rise before their eyes from a small orange ember. “……?! Now, Renkoooooo!”

  “Yeah, leave it to me! Kksshhhhhh…kksshhhhhh!” Renko quickly added the newspaper and began blowing on the fledgling coal. However, perhaps because she was wearing a gas mask, she could barely give it any air. Bob’s and Renko’s strenuous efforts seemed futile as their coal began to die…

  It’s hopeless, isn’t it?! Everyone looked ready to give up.

  “Please leave it to us, GMK!” Two of the male students working on hearth duty nearby abandoned their fire-making tools. Lining their faces up next to Renko’s, they began to blow.

  “Y-you guys are…!”

  The ember, now fed with plenty of oxygen, began to grow—

  “It li i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i t!”

  Before the roaring blaze of a fire, the four of them let out a roar of their own. The leaden mood under the pavilion was lifted by smiling faces, and the air filled with applause and cheers.

  Pushing a towel up under her flour sack to wipe away at her sweat, Bob flashed a sideways peace sign and said, “With this, we have once again increased our feminine power!”

  In this case it was man power, I think…

  Regardless, the two students who had exchanged high fives with Renko were fairly excited.

  “We knew it! GMK and Sack-Head Bob are amazing… We wanna be like you!”

  “We were really honored to have your help! Please shake my hand!”

  “Kksshh. Yeah, we should be thanking you. If we hadn’t had your help, I don’t think it would have worked. Did you see yesterday’s live show—could you have become fans at our debut performance as ‘Fuckin’ Park’? Please lend us your continued support! Kksshh.”

  “Ye-yes, ma’am!” Cradling the hands that Renko had shaken with utmost devotion, the boys returned to their original squad.

  An amazed mutter slipped from Kyousuke’s mouth as he watched this strange series of events. “Wow…they’re so popular.”

  Their campfire “Murder Rap” had apparently been a smash hit, and each member of Class B Squad Four was now being showered with enthusiastic attention from the student body. The group of former misfits had now secured themselves an unusual popularity. They’re difficult to approach because of their outward appearance and demeanor, but once you try talking to them, they’re an amiable lot…

  “Yoo-hoo! How are you doing, you two?” GMK—Renko—interrupted his thoughts. Kyousuke’s and Renko’s squads had neighboring workspaces, since they were both Squad Four of their respective classrooms.

  “As you can see, it’s pointless… Ours just doesn’t want to light.”

  “Oh no… Are we going to have to go without lunch…? I’m hungry…”

  Renko nodded at Kyousuke’s and Maina’s sorrow. “Is that so? Well, then, we’ll share our fire with you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Why are you so surprised? It’s only reasonable. It won’t even diminish ours… Everyone else, too, if you want it, come and get it! You can take all the fire you want from our hearth.” Speaking quite indifferently, Renko looked around the outdoor cooking area.

  The students fighting hard to light fires lifted their heads, and looked at Renko with wide eyes. “Geeeee—Emmmmmm—Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy!” they shouted in unison, deeply moved.

  Throwing down their tools, the students rushed toward their Prometheus. “G-M-K! G-M-K!” they all chanted, and began to lift her onto their shoulders. Renko, abducted in an instant before Kyousuke’s eyes, was thrown into the air over and over again in time with the students’ shouting.

  “Tch. What the hell even is GMK?” Shinji watched the uproar with a sidelong glance. “How ridiculous; that’s not even a thing…” he said, while shrewdly on his way to acquire fire.

  Shinji, who had had a terrible time during the Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering, probably didn’t find the sudden rise in Renko’s popularity very interesting. The other members of his ensemble—Usami and the ditzy girl—also shot hateful glares at Renko and her group. Only the dreadlocked Oonogi seemed uneasy, as if he had mixed emotions…

  “…Well, then. For now, it seems like the hearth is not a problem.”

  Holding a crackling and popping flame in front of him, Kyousuke breathed a sigh of relief and looked toward the kitchen. There, standing at the ready next to their outdoor ovens, other students wore aprons atop their uniforms and held large carving knives, looking lost.

  Before the students on food preparation duty lay strange, ominous-looking fish, each flapping around on a cutting board. Their round, fat bodies were covered in colorful psychedelic patterns.

  “…All right. Each of you has been given a puffer fish, sourced by Busujima. It’s a light, flavorful fish with white flesh that is quite delicious! Oh, and it’s called a puffer fish, but it contains no neurotoxins like tetrodotoxin, so please don’t worry about anything like that. If you make a mistake cutting it, you will only be struck by extreme dizziness, headache, stomachache, and nausea! Now, if you don’t want to spew—from both ends at once—the curry that everyone took so much trouble to make, please cut carefully. The toxins are contained in the skin, organs, and blood. If you’re unlucky, also in another certain part of the body… Ah, never mind that, it’s nothing. In any case, you are not allowed to throw the fish away without eating it. It you try, I will inject the toxin directly into your bloodstream, understand? Well, then, do your best!”

  Thus came the announcement.

  On food preparation duty for Kyousuke’s group was—

  “…Fwah…”

  Yawning and showing no inclination at all toward the task was Eiri, their only option.

  Mohawk was absent due to Kurumiya’s discipline; Kyousuke had never so much as lifted a cooking knife, having relied entirely on his younger sister, Ayaka; and Maina was obviously out of the question. Process of elimination had made the choice for them.

  “…We just have to take these things apart, right?” Eiri wore a bandana and apron that suited her quite well. Nevertheless, her culinary skills were an unknown quality.

  Before the outdoor cook-off had begun, Kyousuke had asked her, “Can you cook?” and was met with glaring eyes that seemed to say, “Of course I can. Are you making fun of me?” so he didn’t think it would be a problem, but…

  “……”

  Idly toying with her knife, Eiri looked down at the puffer fish quivering on the cutting board. Suddenly, a murderous light flashed in her sleepy eyes. The slow whirling of the blade stopped. Raising the knife high in the air, Eiri shouted, “Diiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!”

  Chop!

  The deadly weapon swung downward with incredible speed, faster than the eye could see. “Noooooooooooo!!” Kyousuke screamed, unable to hold back.

  The blade struck straight down, bisecting the puffer fish’s head from its body like a guillotine. It stabbed deep into the surface of th
e cutting board, where it stood lodged on end. The freshly severed head flew through the air, leaving a thin red trail behind it. It fell with a wet thud near Michirou, who was working at the next station over.

  “…Huh? Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!”

  Indifferent to Michirou’s screaming, Eiri gently pulled at the twitching corpse of the headless puffer fish before her as blood gushed from the cross-section cut. “Wh-wha…what is this? It’s so dark.”

  “”

  This time, Kyousuke and the others who were watching recoiled. Uh…what did she say? D-does Eiri not know how to cook? This is too awful.

  “W-well…it’s gross like this, so why don’t I hurry and slice it up?” The knife stuck upright in the cutting board like a gravestone. Extracting the blade, Eiri held it aloft, its edge gleaming in the sun. She prepared to plunge it downward with all her strength.

  “…That’s far enough.” A hand caught her wrist before she could swing. It was Michirou, wearing an apron, his bandana tied in a triangle.

  Eiri glared at him in annoyance. “…Excuse me. Would you please stay out of the way of my cooking?”

  “Cooking? That was cooking, you say? Ha! Absurd. Whatever you were doing, it was not cooking. It was a simple atrocity! I’ll teach you the true art of cooking!” Michirou snatched away her blade.

  “Just a—What are you—? Ouch!”

  “Step aside,” he said, ignoring Eiri’s protests as he pushed her away and stood in front of her cutting board. Holding the knife just like a sword, he confronted the remains of the puffer fish.

  A moment of silence passed.

  “Puffer fish…you who perished at the hand of this brutal cutthroat…with this hand of mine I shall mourn your soul! Embraced by the melody of the repose of souls, gently drift away to sleep. Now, dance with me, Azrael! The first movement of the hidden esoteric ‘Bring Me the Horizon’ and ‘Pray for Plagues’!”