Murder Anniversary and the Reverse Memorial

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  They nervously ascended the stone stairs, flanked by crimson cloth.

  “Hey, big brother. Are these people human? Could they be dolls?”

  “Stop that—they can hear you!! Don’t say rude things—”

  “Well now…hm? They seem perfectly alive to me! They’re soft and warm. But these people have big breasts! Kyousuke, you try feeling them, too. Squish, squish…”

  “What the hell are you doing, idiot?! Take your hands off them!”

  “Heh-heh. But they don’t react at all! What fun! We came all this way, so you join in, too, Ayaka. Punch a random one in the stomach and work out some stress—”

  “Don’t you daaare! Don’t you two value your lives?!”

  “…You’re better off dead.”

  Eiri wasn’t joking.

  When they had finished climbing the hill, and having just barely managed to restrain Ayaka and Renko along the way, Kyousuke and the others were greeted by an elegant single-story Japanese-style house. Just like the gate, it was entirely red, from the roof tiles to the walls. As they faced the conspicuously large main building, the roofs of several separate structures were visible.

  There was a pond in the broad garden, in which scarlet carp were swimming. The flowers blooming here and there were also various shades of red and struck a marvelous contrast with the green of nature in the background.

  “Please come in.”

  At the urgings of the woman in the Noh mask, they entered the mansion. Walking along the eaves of the veranda, they were soon ushered into a large Japanese-style room some fifteen tatami mats wide, about two hundred and sixty square feet. At the far end of the room stood an alcove decorated with a hanging scroll and a Japanese sword. The smell of the floor mats mixed with the scent of incense, creating an indescribable fragrance that hung in the air.

  “If you would be so kind as to wait in this room.”

  The woman bowed deeply on the floor and left. Several red cushions had been laid out in a row. Kyousuke and the others looked around the elegant reception room as they took their seats. A single identical red cushion sat unoccupied before them.

  As soon as the masked woman was out of the room, Kyousuke and the others began to chat among themselves.

  “I-incredible… It looks like a set piece for a period drama. It’s completely unreal.”

  “That sword must be the real deal, right? I want to touch it!”

  “Give it up, Akaya. What would you do if it was a cursed sword?”

  “Honestly, it probably has been used to kill people. It looks like it’s got history.”

  “……”

  In the midst of the excited chatter, Eiri remained sullenly silent. From the courtyard, visible from the open room, came the clacking sound of a shishi-odoshi as the bamboo rocker arm hit a rock.

  Then—

  “Welcome, so pleased to have your company.”

  A graceful voice interrupted their conversation. A lone young woman had appeared—different from the woman who had left before.

  “……?!”

  Eiri’s body stiffened.

  Kyousuke and the other girls stopped their chatting and stared at the newcomer.

  The first thing that drew their eyes was her pure white hair. Fastened up with an ornate hairpin, it did little to match her otherwise youthful appearance, altogether creating a strangely morbid impression. Next was her attire: Under a long red haori, she wore funeral garb in the same pure white as her hair—a thin, unlined kimono that looked like those worn by the dead.

  The woman slowly stepped into the room and took a seat on the unoccupied cushion.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I am the twenty-ninth-generation head of House Akabane—my name is Fuyou Akabane. I am ever so pleased to make your acquaintances.”

  The woman—Fuyou—bowed. She looked at all of them with eyes the color of fresh, dripping blood.

  Busujima lowered his head in gratitude. “Very nice to meet you! I am Kirito Busujima, one of the teachers at Purgatorium Remedial Academy. Originally their homeroom teacher was planning to come herself, rather than send me, but…”

  “So I have heard. I understand that Miss Kurumiya is dealing with an uncontrollable bronco and is otherwise indisposed.”

  “…Yes indeed. She is quite utterly perplexed.”

  The “bronco” in question must have been Mohawk.

  At first Kurumiya had been delighted: “Now I’ll get away without having to give that bastard his supplementary lessons!” But Mohawk had overheard and thrown a tantrum. The resulting violence had been intense, and as a fortunate consequence, Busujima had been assigned as their replacement probation officer. Kurumiya had been livid—leading to a major incident. In addition to the partial destruction of the old school building, there had been thirteen casualties among the first-year students.

  “Ho-ho. Thank you very much for coming all this way during such a busy time. On behalf of House Akabane, you have our gratitude. Well, then…” Fuyou turned her eyes on Eiri and continued in a soft, gentle voice, “Welcome home, Eiri. It’s good to see you after so long.”

  “”

  Eiri stared into the courtyard for a short while, her lips shut tight, before she finally asked, “…What was with that reception?”

  Fuyou seemed to take great delight in her answer. “Ah. Well, after you were away for half a year, I wanted to give you a proper greeting upon your return. So I called together everyone from the branch families.”

  “…I wish you wouldn’t go to so much trouble, Mother.”

  “Motheeerrr?!” Kyousuke and the others exclaimed in unison.

  “Yes.” Fuyou nodded. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter. I’m pleased to be able to meet you. Miss Renko Hikawa, Miss Ayaka Kamiya, and…Mr. Kyousuke Kamiya.” Fuyou’s eyes seized on each of them in turn.

  Renko looked surprised to be called by name before even introducing herself. “Kksshh?! How did you know my name…? Are you a mind reader?!”

  “No. I simply asked beforehand, Miss Hikawa. I’ve heard what kind of person you are.”

  “…Oh, okay.”

  Easily brushing off Renko’s dumb wit, Fuyou shifted her gaze to Ayaka.

  “I’m told that you are a younger sister who loves and appreciates her older brother. I would very much like for my children to follow your example. Isn’t it so wonderful to see a brother and sister getting along so harmoniously?”

  “Tee-hee-hee! It is, it is!” Ayaka grinned. “We’re the most lovey-dovey siblings in the world!”

  Fuyou smiled back at her before turning to look at Kyousuke. Exchanging gazes with the head of the Akabane family—with Eiri’s mother—he felt tense.

  Her eyes, the color of fresh blood, suddenly narrowed. “And you are Kyousuke, right? Ho-ho-ho. I see, I see—” She placed her hand on her chin and carefully looked him over.

  “…Mother,” Eiri interrupted. “Why did you summon Kyousuke?” Eiri’s voice was harsh—unthinkably harsh to one’s own mother. “What were you planning to do, inviting only Kyousuke to the house?”

  “Come now, Eiri… Of course you already know the answer to that question.” Fuyou’s red lips remained in a smile. With a fleeting glance at Kyousuke, she continued.

  “When I heard my beloved daughter was getting along well with a boy—why, as your mother, of course my interest was piqued! To say nothing of the fact that you are the eldest daughter of House Akabane. It’s important for the household that I confirm the quality of your companion, Eiri.”

  “……”

  Eiri was silent in the face of her mother’s forceful words.

  “Wh-who is her companion—?” “Wait, didn’t she turn her back on him?” “After all this time, what about me…?” the other girls grumbled and complained.

  “You’re going on about all that, but aren’t you planning to eliminate Kyousuke?”

  Eiri’s accusation came suddenly. Naked suspicion filled her eyes as the daughter gazed at her mother.


  The Akabane head smiled wryly, apparently unfazed by her daughter’s glare. “Look here… We don’t eliminate guests—we entertain them. Don’t say such troubling things! You make your mother terribly sad.”

  “……”

  Eiri looked sullenly at her mother, who was hiding her eyes with her sleeve and sniffling.

  It didn’t seem as if she was lying, but it was also clear that she hadn’t voiced her true intentions. Kyousuke determined, then, that she was a difficult person to pin down.

  The tip of the shishi-odoshi struck rock. A sharp wooden sound rang out.

  “Speaking of entertainment, everyone, it is ever so warm today. Surely you must all be thirsty? I’ll have cold barley tea brought out now… Kagura?”

  “…Yes, Lady Fuyou.”

  An elegant voice answered Fuyou’s call as the sliding door was thrown open, revealing the figure of a lone girl.

  “Pardon me.”

  The girl was beautiful, her appearance as delicate as the sound of her voice. She was wrapped in a bright red kimono, with her copper-colored hair tied up at the nape of her neck. Her eyes, the same rusty shade as her hair, were narrowed into long slits and were filled with a sharp light that did not suit her youthful face.

  In her dignified appearance, there was something that reminded Kyousuke and the others of someone they knew well.

  “……Ah.”

  A shocked noise slipped from Eiri’s mouth.

  The girl Kagura bowed, holding a lacquered tray above the tatami floor. She began handing out glasses full of iced barley tea, one by one.

  “Here you are.” “Thank you very much.”

  “Here you are.” “Ah, thanks…”

  “Here you are.” “Thank yooou.”

  “Here you are.” “Wow, thanks!”

  She handed glasses to Busujima, Kyousuke, Ayaka, and Renko, and then came to the last person.

  “…Here you are.”

  “Yeah, thanks—”

  Kagura held out a glass to Eiri, who prepared to take it.

  “Die.”

  Moving almost too quickly to follow, Kagura swung her arm in a wide arc aimed directly at Eiri’s throat.

  —Clink.

  A strange, high-pitched noise.

  Barley tea spilled from the two halves of Eiri’s glass, cut horizontally in two.

  “…Kuh?!”

  Eiri quickly pulled back, avoiding Kagura’s weapon. Simultaneously, she brandished her right foot. The five blades that crowned her toenails—her “Suzaku” nail blades—arced through the air as she kicked upward, obstructing Kagura’s pursuit.

  The remains of the glass, spinning through the air, were split vertically this time.

  “You’re impudent!” Kagura shouted, in hot pursuit. She attacked fiercely, and Eiri righted her stance and jumped out of the way.

  The concealed weapon now visible in her hand was an open iron-ribbed fan. The silver ribs of the large fan were nearly twelve inches in total length. Like Eiri’s nails, they were tipped with razor-sharp blades.

  “Please die.”

  —Swish!

  The metal fan that Kagura swung tore through the hanging scroll behind Eiri, missing her neck by a scant second. The lower half of the scroll, severed with a straight cut, fell heavily to the alcove floor. Had Eiri bent down just a moment later, it would likely have been her head falling there instead.

  “Tch… Well, if you aren’t brimming with enthusiasm, Kagura!”

  “Naturally!”

  Kagura brought the metal fan back around and swung it down on top of Eiri’s head. Eiri grabbed the Japanese sword that had been decorating the alcove below the hanging scroll, and she stopped the blow of the fan with the scabbard.

  Her eyes nearly ablaze, Kagura pressed with all her strength. “When I see you, always making an unsightly fool of yourself, it makes me want to kill you. You’re such a miserable dunce it’s painful to look upon you. Won’t you hurry up and disappear?”

  “…Hmph, I’ll pass. If you want me to disappear, you’d better erase me. That is, if you can.”

  “Impudent talk!”

  Kagura jumped back away from Eiri and then immediately stepped forward and swung the iron-ribbed fan down in a diagonal slash. Eiri evaded, turning the fan aside with the scabbard of the sword, but Kagura pursued her relentlessly.

  The fan danced like a butterfly, slashing gracefully through the air.

  “Indeed! You are truly! Impertinent! Aren’t! Yooouuu?!”

  “Kuh—”

  Eiri continued to skillfully defend against Kagura’s fluid attacks using the sword scabbard. Sometimes the overwhelming flurry of blades grazed Eiri, and the pillars, tatami mats, furniture, and other fixtures in the room were sliced up one after another. The walls of the room around the alcove were soon scored with many cuts and gouges.

  “……Huh?”

  Finally, a noise leaked from Kyousuke’s mouth.

  He didn’t understand what was going on; it had all happened too suddenly. He’d thought that Kagura was passing out barley tea, and then in an instant they had started slashing at each other.

  Leaving Kyousuke and the others behind, dumbfounded, Kagura pressed her attack with ever greater ferocity. As they stepped off the veranda, Kagura’s fan sliced off an inch of Eiri’s bangs.

  “Come on, what’s the matter?! If you do nothing but run away, you’ll get cornered sooner or later! That thing you’re holding, is it just a stick? Why don’t you try counterattacking?!”

  “…No.”

  “Why not? Are you afraid you might hurt me?!”

  “……Wrong.”

  “Hah, that’s a lie! You’re a total coward; you can’t even draw the sword, can you? You’re afraid you might kill me, so you won’t attack—”

  “You’re wrong.”

  Crouching, Eiri dodged Kagura’s fan and, in the next instant, made her move. Twisting her hips, Eiri pulled down on the scabbard and pushed the hilt of her sword up with her thumb.

  “The reason I won’t draw my own sword is because as soon as I do, the fight will be over.”

  “……?!”

  —Eiri’s draw was too fast for their eyes to follow. By the time the sunlight streaming into the room reflected off of it, the blade, which had apparently been fully unsheathed, was coming to a stop against Kagura’s throat.

  The distance between sword and skin was thinner than a sheet of paper. Kagura stood frozen in an awkward stance, the result of her attempt at defending against the quick-draw attack.

  “The deadly single blow is the foundation of assassination, right?” Eiri said. “Taking them out reliably with the first stroke…if you can’t do that, it’s no different than if you’d failed. It seems your training is still lacking, eh, Kagura?”

  Kagura gritted her teeth and glared at Eiri. “Hah! What are you chattering on about…? Deadly single blow? Taking them out with the first stroke? Completely meaningless, coming from Rusty Nail, who can’t do either. You can’t kill no matter what you do, so how about I cut you down without worrying about that sword?”

  A tense atmosphere circulated between the two of them as they faced off.

  In the distance, the shishi-odoshi struck a lighthearted note.

  Fuyou sighed very deeply.

  “What are you two doing…? Eiri and Kagura, both of you, put your blades away.”

  “”

  After turning to look at Fuyou, the two girls exchanged glances and lowered their weapons. Kagura folded the iron-ribbed fan, and Eiri returned the sword to its scabbard.

  Kagura slipped her concealed weapon, which featured the same Japanese blades as Eiri’s Suzaku nails, into the obi belt of her kimono and clicked her tongue. “…You’d be better off dead,” she said bitterly and separated from Eiri.

  Eiri shrugged her shoulders without saying anything, returned the sword to the alcove, then went back to where Kyousuke and the others were sitting.

  “Uh, ummm…”

  Kyousuke wasn
’t sure what he ought to say to her.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Eiri reassured him nonchalantly. “It happens all the time.”

  “…Huh?”

  Kyousuke was at a loss.

  The glass, which had fallen next to the cushions, had been neatly severed, ice and all. Even a grazing cut from a blade like that could seriously hurt someone.

  …She said this deadly interaction “happens all the time”?

  “I’m sorry.” Fuyou apologized to Kyousuke and the others, who were struck dumb. “To make such an unseemly display in front of guests… I did ask Kagura to try to restrain herself as much as was possible, but…I think they were overcome with emotion at seeing each other’s faces after so long. Kagura is a hot-blooded girl, after all.”

  Kagura took a seat at her mother’s side. “…My sincerest apologies.” She bowed her head, and when she reopened her eyes, the sharp light that had burned there was already softened.

  “I’m late in introducing you, but this girl is Kagura Akabane. She is the second daughter of House Akabane, and Eiri’s younger sister by two years.”

  “…Hello.”

  Kagura followed Fuyou’s introduction with a perfunctory greeting.

  “She is a belligerent girl, but as she has never committed a murder in play, please set your minds at ease,” Fuyou continued with a smile.

  “Members of the Akabane family serve the family head and also make assassination attempts to take the head’s life. Members of the main family make attempts on the main family head, and members of the branch families make attempts on the branch family heads—and the branch family head makes attempts on the main family head. This is because every assassin in the Akabane family is nothing more than a sword wielded by the head of the main family.”

  As Fuyou, the current head of the main Akabane family, explained to them, just as a sword never moves on its own to take a life, the assassins did not kill of their own accord. Only after the “swordsman”—the family head—swung the weapon would they injure or kill.

  In other words, in House Akabane, the head of the main family held tremendous power. The family head was the only person who no one, no matter who he or she might be, could disobey.