“Kksshh. My boobs are big, and so is my heart!”
“I see! Now that you mention it, Eiri and Kagura and Ayaka are girls with formidable natures, and all of them are washboards. You’re very clever.”
“Dickless bastard.”
“…You’re better off dead.”
Ayaka insulted him, and Eiri swore.
“Oh, scary, scary,” Basara said and bit into his watermelon. “Setting aside the issue of breasticles, Renko dear, you can call me ‘Basara’ like everyone else! It’s okay if you don’t add ‘Mr.’ or anything. No need to stand on formalities.”
“Sure, sure. I got it, Basara. You’re probably nervous, being in the company of such a beautiful girl, but try not to be too stiff, okay?”
“I mean, I can’t even see your face for the gas mask! I can see way more of your breasts than of your face! And they really are big, aren’t they? I’m sure to be stiff one way or another…”
“Rrrrrrrrrrrrgh!” Ayaka growled at Basara, whose ulterior motives were more than obvious. She tugged hard at Kyousuke’s sleeve. “Big brother, big brother! Are you going to let that dirtbag get away with that? Don’t you feel anything when he looks at Renko with filthy eyes?!”
“……Yeah.”
Ayaka’s question made Kyousuke realize that he couldn’t help but get irritated watching Renko flirt with Basara—with another guy. He realized that he was starting to feel something like jealousy. It was a terrifying revelation.
No, no, no, no! No way, nuh-uh, that can’t be it! He immediately denied it, shaking his head. It was absolutely impossible. There was no way it could be true. For a totally normal, ordinary person like him to fall in love with a psycho killer assassin who would kill him if he reciprocated her love—it would be completely unthinkable.
Admitting this feeling would mean the end for him. There would be no going back. He would go rolling down the hill of ruin, barreling full speed toward his own bad end, the end of his life. In conclusion, he flatly refused. Which was why—
“…No? I don’t feel anything. As for her chest…well, any man would look. Don’t make such a fuss. Leave it be.” Kyousuke turned his gaze away from Renko’s overly friendly conversation with Basara and bit into his watermelon.
“Hm?” Ayaka swung her pigtails. “…Big brother, why are you so irritated?”
“Huh? I’m not.”
“Y-you are too…”
“Am not.”
Kyousuke turned away from her and took another bite.
Ayaka blinked, then turned to Eiri, who was on her other side. “…He is, isn’t he, Eiri?”
“Yeah, you’re right. No matter how you look at it, he is…hmph.”
“Oh no. Are you irritated, too, Eiri?”
“Not really.”
“I-is that so…?” Moving past her nonchalant rejection, Ayaka put a finger to her cheek. “Tee-hee! Big brother and Eiri are both obstinate people, huh…? Well, it’s interesting to watch, from my perspective, anyway!”
She smiled broadly, looking content, then opened her mouth wide and bit into her watermelon slice.
“—Come to think of it, what are you all planning to do today after this?”
The watermelon on the tray was quickly eaten down to the rinds. Basara posed the question to the group.
“Hmm.” Renko folded her arms. “I don’t think we decided on anything in particular. I thought I might get a tour of the rest of the place, but we don’t really have any plans aside from that. Maybe just spend the next three days relaxing like this.”
“…Oh yeah. We haven’t done any homework or anything.”
“You say we haven’t done any, but it’s seriously a joke how much there is, right?”
Summer vacation at Purgatorium Remedial Academy was short, only one week long, but they had been given mountains of homework. On top of book reports and research projects, they had all been assigned Summer Vacation Enemy workbooks that were as thick as dictionaries.
They had finished everything else together before leaving the academy but had only made it about halfway through the workbooks. If they didn’t seriously tackle them before too long, it would be bad.
…At least, that’s what Kyousuke thought.
“The Summer Vacation Enemy book? I crushed that a long time ago.”
“You still haven’t finished it yet, big brother?”
“Uh…”
That was just like the first-and third-ranked students, so easily dispatching such a formidable enemy against which everyone else struggled so desperately…
“I’ve still got almost a thousand pages left—”
“I see! You really don’t get the point, do you?”
“What…did you say?”
Kyousuke was astonished by Eiri’s condescending tone—she had been second to last in the class rankings. I can’t believe this. I was sure that, on top of the Summer Vacation Enemy book, Eiri had nine extra workbooks in subjects that she failed. How on earth is she so calm?
“You’d better copy down the answers quickly.”
“…If you’re caught cheating, you’ll be butchered!”
“Miss Akabonehead could never get all the answers right, so she’ll be caught right away.”
“Are you going back to that nickname, Ayaka? Although Eiri is definitely a dummy.”
“I’m not worried.” Eiri wore a bold smile. “Because I only answered maybe one question every couple hundred pages. I left all the rest blank. I just said I didn’t understand. If you do it that way, you can finish a workbook before you know it!”
“……I see.”
It was settled: She would be beaten to death.
“Wah, amaaazing,” Ayaka admired in a sarcastic monotone.
Renko nodded in agreement. “Yep. Amazingly stupid.”
On the other hand, since it was highly unlikely that she could finish ten volumes of three thousand pages each even if she copied the answers normally, Eiri’s approach was not necessarily that misguided. Either way, discipline was probably a foregone conclusion…
“Ha-ha-ha! Looks like you don’t have any plans after all, hm?”
Basara, who had been listening to their conversation, laughed cheerfully and twisted his lips into a broad smile. Rustling the sleeves of his kimono, he withdrew a scrap of paper.
“…In that case, why don’t we give this a try tonight? I found it this morning, posted on a bulletin board at the foot of the mountain.”
Kyousuke and the others looked at one another. On the paper that Basara was holding up was written in huge letters—
COOL SUMMER EVENING BON DANCE FESTIVAL
A tranquil village with no connection to the criminal underworld stretched out around the base of the mountain owned by House Akabane. The people living there rarely had an occasion to call on the clan, but members of the family frequently visited the village to purchase food and other daily necessities, although that was largely the servants’ job.
Eiri and the other children of the main house, before they came of age—that is, before they reached the age of twelve, when they became independent assassins—were not permitted to go out for such frivolous reasons. However, since Basara, the eldest son; Eiri, the eldest daughter; and Kagura, the second daughter, had all passed the age of twelve, they could leave the estate if they received permission from Fuyou, the head of the household.
On the other hand, Kyousuke and the others, who were supposed to be serving their prison sentences for murder, needed Busujima’s consent.
“…Go out? Sure, you can go out. I’ll have to stay with you the whole time, of course.”
That’s how it was. Renko and Ayaka were already on parole, and it didn’t sound as though it would be a problem to treat Kyousuke and Eiri the same way, as long as Busujima was willing to accompany them. And so—
“Yaaay, freedom!”
“We’re freeeeee!”
As soon as the maids opened the gates, Ayaka and Renko rushed out ahead, shouting with joy.
“You’re a little too excited.”
“…Fwah.”
Kyousuke and Eiri were still standing inside the gate, watching the other two make a fuss.
Making a picture frame with his fingers, Basara squinted his rust-red eyes. “Wow, how nice… This is really magnificent scenery!”
Noticing his conduct, Eiri looked back and scowled. “…What are you doing, big brother?”
“Heh-heh-heh. I’m burning this into my memory. Renko, Ayaka, and my darling Eiri all dressed in yukata! The nape of your neck is so pretty…” Basara reduced the size of his “frame” as if to magnify the image of the back of his sister’s neck.
“…Tch.” Eiri clicked her tongue and, glaring at her brother, moved out of frame. “You’re an unredeemable pervert, you know that? Please don’t turn your vulgar gaze on me.”
Eiri had replaced her Western clothes with Japanese garb. She was clad in a deep red peony-patterned yukata, with white flower decorations in her bound-up hair. She was not wearing nearly as much makeup as usual. Overall it was a tidy look.
When he had first seen her in a yukata, Kyousuke couldn’t help but give her rave reviews, and Eiri had bluntly rebuffed him, saying, “Hmm…I’m not at all pleased to be praised by someone like you. Not the least bit pleased! And the fact that I’m wearing less makeup than usual has absolutely nothing to do with you, okay?!”
Basara, who had just been rebuked as Kyousuke had been, shook his head. “Good grief. They sure aren’t docile, my little sisters… Well, they’re cute that way, huh?”
Eiri wasn’t the only one who had changed clothes. Kyousuke and Busujima wore jinbei sets, while Renko and Ayaka had also put on yukata.
Renko, who had stopped soon after exiting the gate, looked down at her own figure. “This is the first time I’ve worn Japanese clothing, but it’s really breezy, isn’t it? I can’t get comfortable. Not wearing anything on the bottom is, well, um…embarrassing.”
“Tee-hee! Forget about our clothes—your hem is sooo short! No wonder you feel uncomfortable. I mean, why did you choose one like that?”
The yukata that Ayaka was wearing featured irises drawn on a pale purple background. At the base of each of her black pigtails she had fastened purple flower decorations. If Eiri’s yukata figure was “pretty,” Ayaka’s gave a “sweet” impression. Finally, when it came to Renko—
“Really?! Isn’t it so cool?! Kksshh!”
She wore her constant companions, the gas mask and headphones. Well, I guess those are fine, but…
This time, though, her outfit was a real piece of work. Her yukata, which had a white-and-pink cherry-blossom pattern scattered on a bright light blue background, was short like a miniskirt and decorated at the collar, sleeves, hem, and belt with frilly lace.
Ayaka frowned at the Busty One, who was striking a pose with her hand on her hip. “Ehh… No matter how much I support you, I have to say this is a little…cheap looking, or should I say cosplay-like, or…well, you look like a prostitute.”
“Prostitute?! Watch your word choice!”
“You’re the one who should choose more carefully. What the hell is with this outfit…? Your tastes are unfathomable. Honestly, I’m not even sure why a yukata like that was available in the first place.”
Basara raised his hand.
“Ah, that’s one that I bought,” he confessed. “I was planning to have my girlfriend wear it. It’s sexy, right? I think it’s perfect for Miss Renko’s voluptuous figure, though. And the combination of yukata and gas mask is so avant-garde and thrilling. I like it, Renko honey!” He grinned, flashing white teeth.
“Kksshh!” Renko laughed at the praise. “Yep, yep, that’s how it is! Of course a boy would like something like this. Say what you like, you must really like it, too, huh, Kyousuke?”
“……Mm.”
Kyousuke was at a loss for a reply. Honestly, he didn’t like it all that much. He thought that a normal yukata was definitely better than the mini length and that the lace decorations distributed here and there were of questionable taste and poorly suited for Japanese clothes. Also, there was the gas mask, which completely ruined her face. There was nothing charming about her appearance. Despite that, he found himself answering almost automatically. “…R-right. It’s not that bad. I don’t hate it…but…”
He didn’t really understand why. As soon as Basara’s words of praise for Renko reached his ears, he’d gotten really angry—by the time he had regained his senses, he’d already answered her question.
“Really?!” Renko shouted happily, throwing her arms up. “Yaaay, all right! I got a compliment from Kyousukeee! Kksshh. See, see, my yukata choice wasn’t wrong after all, Ayaka. Not in the least!”
“Huh. I think it’s because you’re the one wearing it, and not anything to do with the yukata, though,” Ayaka stated. “Wasn’t that a questionable reaction to seeing it for the first time?”
“Huh, his reaction is a little bit off, isn’t it?” Basara added coyly. “Weird…I think he ought to give her rave reviews. Could it be, Renko darling, that Kyousuke here is in love with you?!”
“……”
Ayaka got in a calm jab, while Basara looked back and forth between Renko and Kyousuke. Eiri, for her part, stuck out her lip in a pout and fiddled with her ponytail.
“I’m sorry for making you wait.”
Kagura approached them. Like Eiri and the other girls, she was in a yukata, decorated with deep crimson birds fluttering around on a white background. As if it was completely normal, her concealed weapon—the iron-ribbed fan Kujaku—was stuck in her obi.
“I was training until the very last minute. Should we get going?”
“Yeah, let’s,” Basara answered. “It takes about ten minutes to get from the house to the foot of the mountain by car, and another twenty to walk from the foot of the mountain to the festival grounds, so I think we’ll arrive just at the right time.”
“Hmm…” Kagura sighed. “Big brother Basara, you certainly have strange tastes, don’t you? To go so far as to descend to the foot of the mountain just to participate in a commoners’ festival. Are you going because you want to pick up girls or something?”
Smiling, Basara spread out both arms. “Ha-ha. No, no. I just want to enjoy a summer evening with such splendid company.”
From six thirty to nine PM that evening, a Bon dance festival was being held at a junior high school at the foot of the mountain. They had all gathered with plans to attend. Given that it had been Basara’s idea, Kyousuke and Eiri had not been too keen on it, but—
“Bon dance?! What’s that? I wanna go, I really wanna go! Kksshh!”
“Me too, me too! I want to scoop up goldfish with Renko and eat shaved ice!”
—Renko and Ayaka had really gotten into the idea, and so it had been decided that they would attend. They all had changed into their borrowed Japanese clothes and assembled at the front of the gate.
“But…” Basara looked at Kagura.
“It’s surprising that you’re coming, too, hm? You’re always training, day and night. It’s just so rare to see the indifferent Kagura up for something like this. What a stroke of luck.”
“Not really.” Kagura nonchalantly turned away. “It’s because Mother thought it would be a good idea. ‘Relax once in a while,’ she said… There’s no reason above or beyond that. I certainly didn’t intend to go of my own accord.”
“Is that so…?”
Ignoring her faintly smiling brother, Kagura began to walk.
A perfectly bright red limousine was parked in front of the gate. One of the maids stood holding open the door to the backseat. Ayaka cheered and got in with Renko.
“Well, let’s go, too.”
“S-sure…”
Shuddering at the wealth of House Akabane, Kyousuke also got in, following after Eiri. Basara and Busujima were left behind.
Glancing at the unattractive middle-aged man, Basara held his forehead. “Huh, that’s strange. I was plan
ning to be surrounded by girls in yukata and have them fawn over me, but…instead of hanging out with them, I’ve been excluded together with their teacher?”
“Wha…? I’ve been excluded as well?!”
“…Probably. But you were never included in their conversations to begin with.”
“Huh?! Y-you’re right—”
“…Good grief. Just like Kagura said, I guess I’m picking people up.”
Busujima was shocked, while Basara felt dejected. He stared at the limousine, in which Kyousuke was surrounded by girls who were fussing over him instead.
When they reached the base of the mountain, they shuffled out of the limousine and then set off for the festival site. Leaving the maid to wait in place for their return, Kyousuke and the others started walking through the tranquil village.
A lush rural landscape stretched out around them, scattered with houses. Dark gray power transmission towers stood close together, backed by the verdant ridgeline. It was almost sunset, but a few gentle sunbeams still streamed down from the pale summer sky.
With Basara in the lead, they progressed in succession down an asphalt-paved path that cut between rice fields. Kyousuke, Renko, Ayaka, Eiri, Kagura, Basara, Busujima…it was quite a large group. As they passed, the surprised locals stared and whispered.
“Hey, that’s—” “Those aren’t faces I’m used to seeing.” “Actually, there are some people whose faces I’ve never even seen.” “Are there people like that in the village?” “It’s probably them, right? You know, the ones who live in the mountains—” “Ah, the Akabane…aren’t they? The incredibly rich ones?” “Right, right! I only catch sight of them occasionally, when their classy red car goes up the mountain.” “Have you tried talking to them?” “Never, never!” “My gramps said never to get involved with that house.” “So did my granny.” “Mama, do you see those girls? They’re interesting, aren’t they?” “Shh! You mustn’t look!”
And so on and so forth. Their extravagant appearances attracted quite a lot of attention. As they approached the festival grounds, the crowds grew thicker, until Kyousuke and the others could practically feel the weight of their inquisitive gazes.
Murder Anniversary and the Reverse Memorial Page 12