Murder Anniversary and the Reverse Memorial

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  “Now that you mention it,” Ayaka mumbled, “I’m sure that her closet was full of all sorts of…frilly dresses, and skirts with panniers, and garter belts! I have a feeling there might have even been headdresses and bonnets and cat-ear headbands!”

  “Yes. And she wasn’t content to enjoy it herself. She insisted on making me wear it as well… It was Sweet Lolita, right? I remember it well even now, how she dressed me up like a baby and took tons of pictures. It was the ultimate humiliation…” Kagura gripped her chopsticks tightly, trembling.

  “Huh?!” Eiri grew angry. “Humiliation…? You’re the one who begged me to do it! ‘Not fair that you’re the only one who gets to wear cute clothes,’ you said. ‘I want to wear them, too,’ you said.”

  “Wha—?” Now it was Kagura’s turn to be at a loss for words. “D-don’t say such stupid things! I recall nothing of the sort! Could you stop making up false stories about the past?!” She slammed her chopsticks down and scowled at Eiri. “If you mock me any further, I’ll be forced to expose the fact that you once wrote a love story starring yourself as the main character.”

  “Forced to expose—yeah right! You just did!!” Eiri slapped her palm against the table. “It’s already done! You sit there making fun of me, but you know…you used to be a faint-hearted crybaby, always running around after me with snot dripping from your nose, crying, ‘Big sister’!! I won’t stand to be mocked by someone like that.”

  “I was not dripping snot! N-nonsense… Who was it who, the night after watching a horror show, said, ‘I’m scared to be alone, and I can’t sleep,’ and dived under my futon?”

  “Oh, no. That wasn’t me. It was you, Kagura! I’m totally fine with scary things. Remember how you used to wake me up in the middle of the night, saying, ‘I’m scared to go to the bathroom by myself’ and how I would have to go along with you? Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

  “Guh—” Kagura seemed to lose her momentum. She kept silent, blushing furiously, eyebrows furrowed. Her expression was, for once, appropriately childish for her age.

  The twins, who were eating next to Kagura, looked at each other.

  “Is it true that big sister Kagura used to really like big sister Eiri, Ran?”

  “Seems that way, Ryou. I don’t really remember, though. I can’t imagine something like that!”

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine it. It’s surprising, isn’t it, Ran?”

  “Uh-huh. So surprising, Ryou!”

  “Oh, I never liked her that much.” Kagura glared, but the twins seemed to have reached their own conclusion.

  Fuyou was conspicuously absent from breakfast, apparently gone out to meet her oldest son at the conclusion of his assignment early that morning. Busujima, who had lost his conversation partner, ate his meal in silence. There was no one who could lend Kagura a helping hand.

  “Hmph…who would ever like our big sister?” Kagura spit. “She should be embarrassed of her past.” She angrily resumed eating, sipping her miso soup with a sour expression.

  “Tee-hee,” Ayaka snickered. “Could Crappy Kagura be the sweet-and-sour type? You certainly look embarrassed.”

  “I am not embarrassed! Please be quiet, Offal Ayaka.”

  Ayaka and Kagura had started giving each other insulting nicknames—it appeared their rivalry had not diminished in the slightest. The situation between Eiri and Kagura, on the other hand, seemed a little different.

  Even hurling abusive language, Kagura seemed livelier as she reminisced with her sister. One might even have imagined that she was enjoying herself. And though she seemed to detest Eiri now, it was clear that, some time ago, the two of them had been very close—their amiable banter certainly gave that impression.

  “…Hey, is there something you find amusing, big sister?”

  “No, not really.”

  “…Tch. I’m surrounded by idiots.” Kagura clicked her tongue and chewed on a pickle.

  “By the way,” Kyousuke asked, turning to face her, “I’ve been wondering this whole time… That love story that Eiri wrote a long time ago, what kind of story was it?”

  “Oh, Kyousuke…you really want to die, don’t you?” Eiri seethed at the revival of that particular topic.

  Kagura made a triumphant gesture with her chopsticks and launched into an enthusiastic description. “Ah, big sister’s first work of literature, huh? The title was Assassin’s Love, just like that. The tale of forbidden love between my assassin sister and the ordinary boy she had her eye on—”

  “……I’m never going to forgive you.”

  After liberally describing Eiri’s shameful episode, Kagura had left the room wearing a smugly satisfied expression. Eiri threw herself over the low table, now cleared of breakfast dishes, and groaned.

  “I absolutely will not forgive you, Kyousuke.”

  “Me?”

  “…Yes, you.” Eiri propped herself up on the tabletop and glared at him with angry upturned eyes. “If you hadn’t brought up the stupid subject, I wouldn’t have been humiliated like that… Mind your own damn business, blockhead. You’d be better off dead.”

  Kyousuke, who had been relaxing and drinking more barley tea, flinched under her resentful gaze. “S-sorry…but it was a good story! And the conclusion, where you just couldn’t bring yourself to kill him and tearfully confessed your feelings…”

  “Yeah, yeah! There was real genius in your signature phrase: ‘Before I could slay you, I had my heart slain by you (bitter smile).’”

  “And his answer, ‘No, I was slain long ago. When I first met you, my heart was killed on the spot (bashful smile),’ was also incredible!”

  Inspired by Kyousuke’s commentary, Renko and Ayaka tore into the story with enthusiasm.

  “…………”

  Tears welled up in the corners of Eiri’s eyes.

  “Kyousukeeeeee!!”

  “M-my bad… Maybe that wasn’t the best way to apologize.” Kyousuke had brought up the story in the first place only because he wanted to hear Kagura talk about her sister—but he’d ended up stepping on a landmine.

  Don’t tell me it was that embarrassing of a subject…

  Eiri felt as if her life were over. So much of her past had been revealed, including her first novel. She sighed listlessly, resting her cheek on the table. “What an unlucky day…” Then, still grumbling, she sat up and stretched, then got to her feet. “Well, then, I’m going to go visit a grave, but…what about you guys?”

  “Us? Hm, well—”

  “I want to investigate Eiri’s room again and try to discover some treasure!”

  “Treasure? You must mean the original copy of Assassin’s Love, right, Ayaka?! Let me hunt with you. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a whole treasure trove!”

  “…Right, I see. I’ll be sure to ask the maids to guard my room, then! So that not even a bug can get inside!”

  “Aww.”

  Ayaka and Renko sounded their disappointment in unison, and Eiri clicked her tongue at them. “…Tch. Don’t whine. I’ll be back in about an hour, so why don’t you go to the guest rooms? It’ll be a pain if you’re wandering around the inside of the mansion looking for things on your own.”

  “Aww.”

  “I told you to stop whining! Kyousuke, I’m leaving this to you.”

  “Sure. I’ll keep a close eye on the two of them, so don’t worry.”

  “…Yeah, thanks.”

  The probation officer responsible for looking after them was conspicuously absent. As soon as the meal was finished, he had simply said, “I’m going for a stroll,” and left. And while he could probably use his poisonous creatures to monitor them without their knowing, he was the kind of person who clearly preferred working alone. He didn’t seem to like being with other people.

  “—Um.”

  Eiri’s countenance suddenly changed.

  The twins, who had been giggling and chasing a butterfly in the courtyard, also stopped.

  The shishi-odoshi tilted with the
weight of the water, making a refreshing clack.

  “I’m home.”

  The next moment, a man appeared.

  Wearing a dark red haori jacket over scarlet hakama pants, he was a young man in his twenties. His hair was two-tone red and black and lay on the right side of his head in a braid. He had silver piercings in his ears, and his haori was tied with a silver chain. He had a handsome face like a model’s and smiled faintly.

  “……Big brother,” Eiri mumbled.

  “Big brother Basara!” the twins shouted, running over to him.

  The man in scarlet hakama—Basara—rubbed the tops of the children’s heads in turn. “It’s been four days, hasn’t it? Were you well, you two?”

  “Yeah!” “Yeah!”

  “Ha-ha. You’re in sync, huh?”

  Narrowing his dark red eyes, Basara turned his gaze toward Eiri. Instantly, his smile evaporated. He took his hand off Ran’s head and moved to approach her. “My my, Eiri…I haven’t seen you in half a year, right? I feel like you’ve changed quite a bit in so little time. Will you let me see for myself?!”

  As he stepped into the room, Basara kicked off the tatami floor, launching toward her with arms spread wide—

  “I’ll pass.”

  Eiri nimbly evaded him.

  The man’s arms struck empty air and crossed futilely in front of his chest.

  “…Tch. What a cruel little sister you are. Surely you could let me give you a hug.”

  “No way. You stink of perfume, big brother.”

  “Eh? No way, really?” Basara looked surprised. He sniffed himself a few times. “I think this is a pretty light level of scent, for me, anyway… Plus it’s not perfume; it’s incense! Used for fragrance. It’s a nice fresh and spicy scent, right?”

  “…Not really. You’re gaudy as always, big brother.”

  “And you’re just as cold as always. But—” He paused and folded his arms, eyeing her up and down as he stroked his chin. “As always, quite pretty.”

  “…Where exactly are you looking?”

  “At your legs. Your thighs.”

  “Don’t you have any shame?”

  “No, but…I mean, isn’t it a little strange to insist that I don’t look when you’re wearing short hot pants that just scream ‘look at me!’?”

  “Huh?”

  “Besides, isn’t that how it works? You actually want people to look, but you’re embarrassed to say so directly, so you communicate it with your clothes instead of your words, right? You’re shy for the hot-and-cold type!”

  “…Are you trying to make me angry, big brother?”

  “I want to eat you up.”

  “Just die already,” Eiri cursed, turning away sharply.

  Basara closed his eyes and pressed his hands together as if in prayer. “I humbly receive my first ‘just die already’ of the day.” When he opened his eyes again, he was looking not at Eiri but at Kyousuke and the others. “…Then these must be the guests I’ve heard so much about?” Kyousuke, Ayaka, Renko…Basara looked each of them over in turn. “Hm-hm, I see. Well, well—”

  When he reached Renko, Basara’s eyes came to an abrupt stop. Any trace of expression vanished from his face as he scrutinized her. “…You’re no amateur, are you?”

  He saw through her immediately.

  “Eh?” Kyousuke and Ayaka were surprised.

  “Kksshh!” Renko laughed. “And what makes you say that?”

  “Why? Hah…it’s obvious, of course. When you get to be a veteran like me, you can tell everything at a glance. Rough guess, three digits… I’m amazed you could reach that at your young age. I don’t get many chances to meet a girl this impressive, you see. For the first time in a good while, I’m starting to get a little excited.”

  “Wha…?!” Kyousuke shuddered. Does that mean that this man even saw through Renko’s kill count? But Basara was not finished yet.

  “It’s also easy for me to guess why you’re wearing a mask… That gas mask is more than just a strange fashion statement. Your bare face—your true character—the mask is there to hide it, right? But that’s too bad… I see right through it. Because I see everything.”

  Basara wore a bold smile. He stared at Renko with starstruck eyes. “Right, you’re definitely no amateur… You’re a gravure idol with her face hidden by a mask!”

  “”

  The group stood silently gaping at Basara’s blunt assertion.

  The shishi-odoshi made a dull clacking noise.

  “…Big brother? What are you going on about?” Eiri’s face was flushed, and her shoulders trembled with rage.

  “Hah!” Basara brushed his hair back, looking immensely self-satisfied. “I’m telling you, that’s this girl’s true character. No matter how she hides her bare face to stay incognito, it’s clear once you’ve seen these boobs. Her bust is probably pushing three digits. Such magnificent, huge—no, enormous—breasts! There’s no way a girl with breasts like that could be an amateur!! She’s still a middle school or high school student, but she’s unbelievably well developed!”

  “No, big brother. What’s unbelievable is your train of thought.” Eiri pressed on her forehead as if seized by a sudden migraine.

  “Kksshh…” Renko sighed and lifted her plentiful breasts up. “It’s too bad, but I’m not a gravure idol! They’re just ordinary, humble, beautiful breasts.”

  “What…did you say?” Basara staggered, wearing an expression of pure astonishment. He stared at Renko’s chest, made all the more impressive by her hoisting each half. “An amateur with that rack…you say? Hey now, you must be joking, dynamite honey. You’re the complete opposite of our Eiri, aren’t you? I can’t believe it…but did you say ‘beautiful’ big breeeaaasts?! I can’t just take your word for it, so if you’ll just let me confirm for myself—”

  “Wait.” Eiri grabbed Basara by the ear as he tried to approach Renko with eager hands.

  “Owwwwww! That hurts!! Don’t stop your big brother!”

  “No, you’ll stop and think sensibly. Are you stupid? If you keep struggling, I might slip and slice your ear off with my fingernail blades.”

  “……Fiiiiiine.”

  Basara reluctantly stopped resisting.

  “…Tch.” Eiri clicked her tongue and let go of Basara’s ear. “You’re an irredeemable pervert, aren’t you…? Don’t you think you ought to do something about your nasty habit of hitting on anyone you think you can lure into your clutches, no matter who they might be?”

  “How rude! I’m only interested in girls with exceptional looks. Forget ‘luring into my clutches’—” Basara pointed at Ayaka. “I hadn’t even paid that one any mind! Plus, I don’t have a Lolita complex, you know? No matter how cute someone is, I would die before unleashing my desires on a little girl like her or Ran!”

  Basara’s excuses didn’t do much to vindicate him.

  The expression disappeared from Ayaka’s face, and the light went out of her dark eyes. “What a disgusting person you are…” She started to stand, gripping her empty glass. “If you’d rather die than unleash your desires, then will you please die?”

  “Easy now, Ayaka,” Kyousuke said, moving to restrain his sister. “Don’t get carried away!”

  “Which reminds me…” Basara looked at Kyousuke. “It’s not like Eiri to bring a guy home… In fact, I think this might be the first time she’s gotten to know a guy outside of our family. How far have you two gone?”

  “…What do you mean by ‘how far’?”

  “Obviously I mean kissing, or physical contact, or se—”

  “Just die already.”

  Eiri took a swing at Basara, who only narrowly avoided her right fist.

  “Hey! That’s dangerous! You seriously almost took my head off!!”

  “It’s because you’re spouting stupid shit!” Eiri was blushing, holding her nails close to her chest. “Kissing and physical contact and… I don’t have that kind of relationship with Kyousuke! We’re just normal classmates! Wh-
wwwwh-who would think such perverted…?”

  “…Perverted? I see, so he’s got some peculiar dispositions.”

  “It’s not like that!” Kyousuke insisted. Geez, looking at me like we’re two of a kind…

  “Hmm…well, that’s fine, I guess. I assume that I’ll hear all the details over lunch anyway. I’m pretty exhausted after spending all night out on assignment.” Basara yawned, “…Fwah.” There was no need to bother asking what kind of work he had been doing.

  Still, the man’s lips curled upward into a sadistic smile as he leaned in and whispered:

  “It’d be good if you sorted yourself out soon, eh—Rusty Nail?”

  “…………”

  Eiri’s face twisted slightly.

  Slipping past his stunned sister, Basara moved onto the veranda. “Well, I’ll catch you later. We can talk another time. I know it’s a little late, but let me introduce myself. I’m the oldest son of the main Akabane family—Basara Akabane. I’m eighteen years old, and I have a girlfriend, but I’m still taking applications. I’m glad that Eiri managed to make friends with all of you…a nice young group of apprentice assassins. For now, good night.” His one-sided introduction complete, Basara waved and left with a smile.

  “Big brother Basara, big brother Basara!”

  The twins followed after him, barraging him with questions.

  “How many people did you kill this time?” “How many swords did you use?”

  “It must have been ten people, including the guard. I used one sword per person, so exactly ten.”

  “Were they strong?” “Were they weak?”

  “There’s no need to answer that.”

  “How many girlfriends do you have now?” “More than the number of people you’ve killed? Fewer?”

  “That’s a secret.”

  “Aww. Tell us!”

  And so on. The twins were brimming with curiosity, and Basara casually answered their inquiries. It might have been a normal chat except for the gruesome details. Although, in House Akabane, where assassinations were a part of everyday life, that probably was normal.