Murder Princess and the Summer Death Camp

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  His lengthy preamble complete, Michirou began to prepare the fish. Thrusting the blade in, he pulled out the internal organs, removed the bones, skinned the fish, and split its body. Perhaps as a kind of requiem, he hummed a tune while he worked; his skill was truly impressive.

  “N-no way… How is he—?” Eiri sputtered.

  “Michirou’s family are caterers. That’s why he’s so good at cooking…” Chihiro explained, squatting down next to her. With vivid, blood-red eyes, she surveyed Eiri’s body.

  “Uh…wh-what is it?”

  “…You look tasty. Hey, can I eat you?”

  “Huh?! Of course you can’t!”

  “…I don’t mean sexually or anything.”

  “I know that! Either way, the answer’s no! No means no!”

  Eyeing the red-faced assassin ravenously, Chihiro slunk back to her own kitchen area. Michirou had finished preparing the puffer fish. “I have pacified its spirit… As for the rest, do as you please.” With these parting words, he followed after Chihiro. Atop the cutting board, clean slices of puffer fish were left neatly arranged.

  “…Hmph. I-I’m not going to say thank you or anything! I could have prepared one or two fish on my own, too, you know. I totally could have! …P-probably.” Eiri, standing once more in front of her cutting board, was blustering childishly. She was a sore loser, it seemed.

  Still, she transferred the slices of puffer fish into a bowl and started on the vegetables. However, it was obvious that she didn’t really know what she was doing. Looking lost, she imitated Michirou’s stance—

  “R-right…let’s meet at the hearth, Maina.”

  “Oh dear… Th-that’s right… Are we really going to be able to eat lunch…?”

  Chop! Chopchopchopchopchopchop, chop! Accompanying the staccato rhythm of the knife, they could hear Michirou shouting. “The potatoes, the potatooooooeeeeeesss!! That’s completely the wrong shaaaaaape!!”

  Glancing around as if planning to flee, Kyousuke and Maina returned to their own station. They wished to see no more of such tragedy.

  Thirty minutes had passed since Outdoor Cooking had begun. A despondent atmosphere had already settled over Kyousuke and the other students working at their tasks.

  Let’s make the rice tasty, at least… If they could manage that, they would be able to avoid the worst-case scenario—going without lunch. At this point, they would have been happy with anything edible, even meager salted rice balls.

  Mustering his dispirited heart, Kyousuke poured all of his energy into manning the oven.

  Kyousuke’s squad had fallen into despair. Because several minutes later, an unexpected guest appeared at their station.

  “How do you do, everyone? Is your curry-making coming along well?”

  As Kyousuke was washing rice at the sink, Shamaya had appeared wearing a bandana and apron. Instantly, beautiful flowers bloomed in profusion throughout the sweat-and smoke-filled outdoor cooking area, and the students at work simultaneously looked toward her. “It’s Miss Shamaya!” “Miss Shamaya is here!” “Beautiful…!” “Cool!” “Sh-she’s too radiant, I can’t look directly at her!” The shrill voices of boys and girls alike filled the air.

  The ordinary students—aside from Kyousuke and his group—saw Shamaya as the upperclassman they yearned to be. Everyone was enchanted by her elegant smile and sophisticated behavior.

  “I beg your pardon for interrupting when you are so busy. I have come to assist any squads who might be suffering a shortage of members. Please, continue to make your curry without paying me any mind! Now…where could Mr. Kamiya and his merry group of friends be—?”

  “Hyaaaaaa!”

  Swp, whizzzz…thunk!

  As Shamaya surveyed her surroundings, a shadow flew across her cheek, then quickly disappeared. “…Hm?” Across her pristine cheek appeared a very thin red line.

  Gingerly, she brought her hand to her left cheek, over which the shadow had passed.

  “”

  Her fingertips came away smeared with bright crimson. The smile disappeared from her face as she turned to look, blood oozing from her face. Stuck into the ground behind her was a hatchet.

  “……What on earth is this?”

  Shamaya’s growling voice echoed through the silent outdoor cooking area. Slowly turning her head back again, her lightless eyes fixed on the figure there before her—

  “Ah, um…that was, well…m-my hand…my hands slipped, um…”

  Maina, who had just finished swinging an empty pair of hands at a pile of firewood, stood there, stock-still. The moment her eyes met Shamaya’s gaze, she shrieked and curled herself into a ball, trembling.

  “…Your hands slipped? Your hands slipped, is that what you said? Attempting to cut firewood, the hatchet slipped and went flying…coincidentally cutting my cheek—is that what you just told me?”

  “Yes!! Ah…a-aaaah…” Maina fell on her backside as Shamaya approached, face as expressionless as her voice. Looking pitiful, Maina flapped her mouth in wordless terror.

  “Don’t be quiet—give me an answer, please, Miss Igarashi. Did you intentionally throw the hatchet in an attempt to kill me? Or did the hatchet just happen to fly in my direction entirely by accident? Which is it? Answer me quickly now… If you won’t, I’ll—”

  “It was an accident, an accident!” Kyousuke interrupted, slipping between Maina and Shamaya. “Of course it was just a mishap; these things happen!”

  Maina let out a noise—“…ah”—and Shamaya looked wordlessly at Kyousuke, her emerald eyes frowning. “…Accident? Mishap? On what grounds do you speak such words, Mr. Kamiya? I believe I was asking Miss Igarashi, not you. Now kindly stop interjecting, it is totally uncalled for. If you won’t—”

  “Waaahhh…s-ssss-sowwy!” Maina shouted, interrupting Shamaya’s speech. “It was a mishap…an accident! N-not on purpose… It wasn’t on purpooooooooose!” She jumped in between Kyousuke and Shamaya, bowing so low her head seemed like it might scrape the ground. “I’m very clumsy, and…that’s why I’m always causing everyone a lot of trouble, um…and, Miss Shamaya, you were over there… Oh dear, oh my. So, it wasn’t on purpose! I’m very sorry that I hurt you. Especially on your face… Really, really, I’m sowwy!”

  “”

  As she looked down at Maina, rolled into a ball on the ground, Shamaya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “…I understand. If that’s how it is, there’s no helping it, I suppose.” She smiled gently, her emerald eyes shining with a clear light.

  As Maina looked up in confusion, Shamaya stroked the girl’s head. “Rather, I am the one who acted unforgivably,” she continued. “It has been a very long time since I have seen my own blood, so…I unfortunately lost my composure. I do apologize! You needn’t worry one bit about the injury. It is not a deep cut, so it won’t even leave a scar.”

  “Mi-Miss Chamawya…” Being smiled at by Shamaya, Maina screwed up her face and began to cry. Shedding fat tears, she held out a light pink hand towel, as if she had suddenly become aware of it. “Um…h-here! If you like, please use this! For the cut on your cheek…”

  “My goodness, oh-ho-ho. Thank you very much. You are a very kind young lady, aren’t you?” Taking the hand towel from Maina, Shamaya smiled happily.

  …Seems like that worked out peacefully.

  Shamaya bowed her head to Kyousuke, who felt exhausted in the wake of the fading tension. “Mr. Kamiya, I also owe you an apology for my earlier rudeness. Thank you ever so much for putting yourself in between me and Miss Igarashi. You truly saved the day.”

  “Hm…? Oh, no, please don’t worry about it. I won’t.”

  “Oh-ho-ho. Is that so? Even though you’ve killed twelve people, you’re very kind, aren’t you, Mr. Kamiya? My interest in you grows ever stronger…”

  “Huh?”

  “……Hm.”

  Kyousuke looked dumfounded. Eiri scowled.

  Shamaya clapped her hands, and said, “Come now! The fact is, I am here to lend
you all a hand! One of your squad members is always being disciplined by Miss Kurumiya… The boy with the Mohawk haircut, right? He’s been sent to the infirmary so many times—will he be all right?”

  “Uh…you don’t need to worry about Mohawk. I don’t think his head is all right, but I’m sure his body is fine. That always happens.”

  “…Always? Very well, then. For the time being, I am under orders from Miss Kurumiya to help your short-handed group, so…” Adjusting her bandana and retying her apron strings, Shamaya spoke in high spirits. Her eyes glistening, she clenched her fists, apparently enthusiastic. “Unworthy though I am, I, Saki Shamaya…shall lend you my assistance, to the very best of my ability. Let us combine our strengths and work as one, to make delicious curry! Aim for three stars! Despite how I look, I am somewhat confident in my cooking ability. Oh-ho-ho. You had a bit of a hard time earlier, but now you can redeem yourselves! Be it beef, pork, chicken, fish, or human…my skill at preparing it beautifully is sure to leave a lasting impression!”

  “…And what is this?”

  Shamaya had entered the kitchen area with a snort. As soon as she spied the terrible spectacle spread out there, she was instantly in low spirits. Her gauze-bandaged cheek twitched.

  “Wh-what do you mean? They’re…vegetables.”

  “Oh, I see! They’re vegetables, are they…? I knew that already! What I want to know is how they came to be in such a state! That is my question!” Shamaya slammed her hand down on the kitchen counter—bam!—and glared at Eiri.

  Eiri folded her arms and, with her face turned away, answered in an unusually timid voice, “…I-I don’t know.” In front of her, cramming the top of the cutting board to capacity, were…

  “H-horrible…it’s just like the scene of a mass murder.”

  Potatoes, carrots, onions—all now mere shadows of their former selves. Their dissected corpses, unrinsed, bits of skin still clinging to them, lay in uneven piles. Deep cuts from the knife ran every which way on the cutting board, fragments of which had flown off from the force of the blows. They were scattered here and there around the countertop and floor.

  It was a genocide, heaps of corpses all around. The murderer who had perpetrated the massacre bit her lip. “‘M-mass murder’… You of all people can’t say something like that.” Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

  “Uh…sorry. ‘Mass murder’ was going a bit far. It’s not a mass murder, it’s, um…a massacre?”

  “That’s no different, Kyousuke, you idiot! Do you want to become a vegetable, too?!”

  “…I sincerely apologize.” Having no desire to be chopped up himself, Kyousuke immediately hung his head.

  Angry, Eiri raised the knife in the air, and again the deadly weapon was snatched from her hand. “…This is a forfeiture. As long as you are allowed to hold on to such a thing, no ingredient is safe. I suppose it cannot be helped… You and Mr. Kamiya watch the hearth together. You’re cut from food preparation duty. And you—”

  Shamaya removed her gaze from Eiri and looked at Maina. “…are cut from hearth duty. As the chair of the Public Morals Committee, I cannot allow another incident like earlier, you see. Instead, I shall appoint you to cooking duty. Would you be so kind as to assist me with my cooking, Miss Igarashi?”

  “Eh?! M-mmmm-me, cooking?!”

  “Huh?! Wait a second, Shamaya!” As Maina’s eyes widened, Eiri raised her voice. “Entrusting the cooking to Maina is really idiotic… Have you gone crazy?!”

  Letting out a long sigh, as if disgusted to the core, the blond beauty shrugged her shoulders. “…And what are you, the perpetrator of that mass murder, prattling on about?”

  Eiri’s face flushed. “Sh-shut up!” Nothing she could have said right then would have made a difference; her words carried no weight.

  “Um…excuse me, Miss Shamaya, but I have to agree with Eiri. Entrusting the cooking to Maina is a really bad idea. It’ll result in actual corpses.”

  “…Corpses? Whatever do you mean?” Shamaya tilted her head quizzically at Kyousuke’s remark.

  They explained the situation to Shamaya, who rapidly blinked in confusion. They told her how the classmate who had eaten Maina’s cooking had foamed at the mouth and died, and how absolutely no poison had been detected, and how researchers had tried to investigate the cause but had found it impossible…

  Shamaya listened to the whole story. “My goodness. Well, then…if that’s the case, there’s nothing to be done about it, is there?” Smiling bitterly, she seemed to give up on the idea. After glancing at Maina’s face—

  “I suppose you thought I’d say something like that, no?”

  Gaze sharpening, she glared at Kyousuke. He could clearly see a glint of suspicion in her eyes. “People died from eating food that she prepared, you say…? Think about it sensibly… That couldn’t possibly be true. What a terrible joke! Aren’t you going a bit far, teasing your senior?”

  “Huh? But—when Maina’s classmate died after he ate her food—”

  “From whom did you hear that story?”

  “Well, from Maina herself, but…”

  “…What about from other people?”

  “No, not really…I just heard it from Maina’s own mouth, I think.”

  “Is that so…? In that case, as expected, it bears no credence.” As she made this declaration, Shamaya raised her index finger. “…Listen up! You did not witness Miss Igarashi’s cooking kill a person with your own eyes. Neither did you hear the tale from the teachers. Despite these facts, how are you able to state definitively that what you heard is true? It is probably all a lie.”

  “Wha—”

  Kyousuke and Eiri were shocked speechless.

  Maina stared at Shamaya blankly.

  “It is unfortunately quite common at this academy to attract the interest of their classmates, and to give off the impression that they are really special murderers… People exaggerate their crimes. Or else, to conceal their true nature, they purposely understate… Alas, students here are quite prone to do so! For that reason, you will do well not to simply believe things that you heard only from the person in question!”

  “……”

  Shamaya gave Kyousuke and the others a stern stare. For a moment, silence reigned.

  “Ah, um…s-so, what you’re saying is that…that I’m telling lies?”

  “No, not at all! What I’m saying is that it is possible. With that in mind, let us step back and examine the situation. There are two possibilities: The first is that someone died from eating food cooked by Miss Igarashi. The second is that she is lying. In the end, which of these do you think is more likely to be true?”

  “……?!”

  Letting the question hang, Shamaya brushed her bangs aside elegantly. Kyousuke and the others were taken aback, at a loss for a reply as Shamaya continued. “I understand that you want to believe your friend, but I do not believe her. However, if I am wrong, and it is possible to kill with cooking, then I certainly want to see it for myself. Why, I’ve never even heard of that method of murder… Isn’t the idea just fascinating? Oh-ho-ho! This is a perfect opportunity, so why don’t we test it out right here and now?”

  A wide smile filled her whole face.

  “Let’s have curry made by Miss Igarashi! I will sample the food that she prepares first, as a poison tasting. If nothing happens, then we know Miss Igarashi’s story is a lie. If anything strange happens—like if I should die—then Miss Igarashi’s story will be proven true. How about that, hmm? Don’t you think this will be interesting?”

  “…Hey, is this really a good idea?” Squatting before the outdoor oven, Eiri fed in bits of kindling.

  Looking troubled, Kyousuke scratched his head. “No, it’s not good, but…”

  In the kitchen, Shamaya was keeping a close watch over Maina, who was fearfully attempting to make curry. The vegetables that Eiri had mangled were now completely transformed, the toxic puffer fish had been kindly prepared by Michirou (who had himse
lf tested it for poison upon completion), and the recipe seemed to be coming together.

  Ten or so minutes had passed since Maina had commenced cooking, her every movement subject to intense scrutiny. She made mistake after mistake, crying out painfully, “Ahh!! Ohh…s-sowwy!”

  Picking up a knife that she had dropped on the ground, Maina went to wash it in the sink. However, the water pressure was too strong, it seemed. “Eeek!!” Surprised by the splashing water, Maina leaped back.

  Whoosh! Still gripping the knife, Maina flailed her arms and stumbled into Shamaya, who had been observing her closely, grazing the back of her neck with a blade. “S-ssss-sowwyy!” Her wild, panicky hands thrust out with the blade, again and again. Countless silver flashes sparkled as kitchen utensils were thrown through the air.

  “Y…y-you! You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?!” Dodging every utensil, a cold sweat clung to Shamaya as she shouted in frustration. It was a scene that had played out several times already.

  “Eh?! N-not on purpose…um, well—ahh!!”

  “Dooon’t dooo thaaat!!”

  Shamaya’s scolding only made Maina tremble harder, which in turn made her even clumsier—it was an all too familiar pattern. Watching from the sidelines, even Kyousuke and Eiri felt uneasy. If this kept up, they would never get their cooking finished.

  “That’s why we told her it was better to stop forcing her, but…if Shamaya was an ordinary person, she would have been killed a long time ago!”

  “…If she dies like this, she’s just reaping what she’s sown. Maina may be doing the killing, but she’s the one we should feel sorry for.”

  Forcing Maina to cook: Shamaya had been the one to do it, brandishing her position as Public Morals Committee chair to make it happen. It seemed she wanted to verify the authenticity of Maina’s story at any cost. Kyousuke and Eiri had been completely ignored. “In the unlikely event that anything should happen, I shall take full responsibility,” she had said with a smile…

  “Kksshh. This is turning into a real circus, isn’t it?” Renko, who was keeping watch over the fire in the next hearth over despite the smoke, wiped the viewports of her gas mask as Kyousuke and Eiri watched the kitchen disaster unfold with pounding hearts.