Gun Princess Royale: Awakening the Princess, Book One

by Albert Ruckholdt

  A storm of conflicted emotions…and desires…broke out over his face. But whatever response he had and struggled to voice was lost when Shirohime made yet another appearance on the top landing, looking flushed and out of breath, her beautiful snow white hair a tousled, sexy mess that despite the mood stole my breath away.

  “All right Kassius, it’s safe now,” she declared while holding the door open and brushing locks of her lustrous hair away of her face. “You can come up now.”

  I was captivated by her appearance but to my disappointment it was only for only a moment.

  The brief respite I felt ended quickly and I hurried – no, I fled – from Tobias, the sound of my footfalls loud in the otherwise silent stairwell, the gap widening between us in more ways than one and none of them boded well for our friendship. However there was no taking back what was said, and I couldn’t muster an apology not when I adamantly believed my opinion was right about him.

  Yet that wasn’t all.

  The spark of doubt had been lit, and now it flickered into a small candle flame shining light on the prospect that Tobias had known about my cross-playing long before the Witch revealed it to the world, and perhaps as a way to cope with the fact that his friend made a better girl than most girls in the school, Tobias began calling me, Cass, despite my vocal protests.

  Though true that I was fleeing, my steps became heavier the farther I walked from him. When I arrived at the narrow landing, my legs felt weighed down by lead and my chest felt constricted, but neither prevented me from walking across the narrow landing and out into the rooftop courtyard.

  What greeted me there pushed aside my troubles with Tobias, and drove home the adage of never to judge a book entirely by its cover, or forget that there’s always more to a girl than meets the eye, let alone three girls.

  - IV -

  The girl kneeling on the ground wore the uniform of a second year student, and struggled against the necktie binding her hands behind her back.

  “This is an outrage,” she declared. “It’s a crime against freedom of the press.”

  I looked down at her, then swept my gaze over the rooftop courtyard.

  Angela walked between the bodies of around ten high school boys who lay disarrayed on the ground in various states of discomfiture, the apparent losers in a battle that lasted only a handful of minutes. Off to the right of the courtyard, a dozen girls knelt nervously like captured prisoners with Felicia watching over them. Beyond them, a crowd of a few dozen students, both guys and girls, spectated from the back of the courtyard.

  I looked at Shirohime who was standing a couple of feet away to my right, busily brushing her hair with a pocket brush she produced from somewhere. “What the heck happened up here?”

  She lightly shrugged a shoulder as she brushed away. “A difference of opinion.”

  “Really. Like what exactly?”

  “Well, there are those that came for a meet and greet – you know, like those handshake events for bikini idols – and then there are those that came to entertain themselves through physical violence.”

  “…huh…?” I chose not to ask how she knew about handshake events.

  Shirohime stopped brushing her hair and regarded me thinly. “These two groups gathered here to greet you. The girls kneeling over there are ardent fans of the Silver Blue Princess, so they came to support you and encourage your cosplaying. As you can see, they have autograph books.” Pointing at the guys lying on the ground, she said, “On the other hand, they came here to beat you up. Learning that the girl they were lusting after was actually a guy was more than they could stomach. Feeling they had been irrevocably insulted and wronged, their emotions boiled over. Had you stepped up here alone, they would have kicked you senseless, and perhaps thrown you off the rooftop though that would have meant getting you up and over the surrounding fencing.”

  Swallowing down the moisture in my mouth took a little effort. “So I dodged a bullet?”

  Shirohime snorted rudely. “More like a cannonball. But there’s more to this story.”

  “There is?”

  She pouted sullenly for a short while before continuing. “The majority of them belong to a group of known troublemakers—students who enjoy bullying others, frequently beating them up on and off Academy grounds.”

  I shivered inside. “You mean they’re part of a gang.”

  Her pout faded away, replaced by something darker and her voice turned austere as well as quieter. “Correct. They received word that Silver Blue would be making an appearance on this rooftop courtyard and decided to crash the gathering. For them it was simply an excuse to beat someone up. They had no other motivation than to extort entertainment out of you by breaking you one bone at a time. That’s simply how they think. Fun at the expense of others.”

  There was no sympathy in her eyes for the defeated gang members, and she gave off the impression that her disdain for them was quite deep, as though their actions revolted her to the core. But there was no disgust on her face, only a cold veiled hatred.

  I realized I was seeing yet another side to her, one that was her darkest yet, and I found it unsettling while wondering if I’d judged this girl too soon…or had she been fooling me all along.

  Shelving for the moment the unexpected enigma that was Anri Shirohime, I slowly looked around the courtyard and arrived at the obvious conclusion. “This was a setup.”

  “Yes, it was. Whoever left you the uniform, played both groups against each other. However, they share one thing in common, a message received by an anonymous source, urging them to greet Princess Silver Blue and express their feelings unequivocally.”

  I closed my eyes for a few moments, feeling a little sick as I unwillingly pictured what could have been had the girls not protected me.

  Shirohime continued in an unforgiving tone. “Beyond a doubt, this incident has drawn the attention of school security and they’ll be here soon. You don’t have much time before they arrive. If you want answers, you will need to get them from her”—she pointed at the kneeling girl—“within the next couple of minutes.”

  After a deep breath to steady my composure, I cleared my throat and approached the girl on her knees looking up at us with reproachful eyes.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “That’s rude,” she replied. “Don’t ask for my name without introducing yourself first.”

  I blinked slowly and realized with a sinking feeling that she didn’t recognize me. The ghost’s efforts to disguise me as a girl, and Angela’s application of light makeup as well as pinning my bangs in a feminine fashion, were paying off handsomely at the expense of my male self-esteem.

  Shirohime sighed. “She’s Irene Casquada, from Class Two-Bee, and the current president of the soon to be defunct Newspaper Club.”

  The girl growled at Shirohime. “And we know who you are, Miss Anri Shirohime of Class One-Cee”—she narrowed her eyes—“or should I call you Anri Tenkawa, formerly of the Tenkawa School of Jeet Kune Do.”

  I gave Class Rep a confused look. “What is she talking about?”

  “Ha!” Casquada laughed. “Surprised I knew that? I know a lot about a lot of people. Well, I am President of the Newspaper Club.”

  “That’s because you’re the only member,” Shirohime replied dismissively. “Everyone else left because of you.”

  “They didn’t have what it takes to be a journalist. They couldn’t recognize a scoop even if it landed on their desks.”

  “Nonetheless, if you can’t get more members by the end of next month, the club will be closed down.”

  Casquada started to rise to her feet, but reconsidered when Shirohime arched an eyebrow at her. “Which is why I need this scoop. I’ll show the first years how important the Newspaper Club is.”

  I stepped closer to the girl. “Excuse me. Who is Anri Tenkawa?”

  Casquada gave me a withering stare. “Huh? Haven’t you been listening?” She jutted her chin at Class Rep. “She’s Anri Tenkawa, the fo
rmer junior champion of Pan Pacifica and last year’s finalist in the Continental Kumite Championship, recently transferred to Ar Telica’s Telos Academy due to family reasons.”

  I slowly turned my head to face Shirohime, and watched her calmly fold away her brush, then deposit it into a dress pocket. “Is that true?”

  “What if it is?” she questioned me with a flat tone, but I struggled for a reply giving Casquada the opportunity to press on her attack.

  “Well,” the girl drawled as she narrowed her eyes at Class Rep, “why did the White Princess join the Tea Ceremony Club instead of one of the martial arts clubs? Could it have something to do with her shocking loss at the end of the Championship? A crushing defeat handed to her by the daughter of the woman who displaced her mother at her father’s side.”

  Casquada’s questioning came off like a weak diatribe, but it tickled my memory and from somewhere in its depths I recalled something I’d heard and seen back at the gaming arcade, and that was the name, White Princess.

  Feeling the proverbial penny drop, I slowly turned my neck to face Shirohime.

  “You’re…the White Princess?”

  Casquada chuckled, sounding maniacal but in a cartoonish way that robbed it of its impact. “If you must know she was called the Snow White Princess because of her beautiful snow white hair, and many critics viewed her as a martial arts prodigy. Of course that all came to an end when she was taken down in the finals by her illegitimate half-sister.”

  Shirohime crossed her arms slowly under her five star bust, and narrowed her eyes down at Casquada. “I lost on a technicality. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “A loss is a loss. Nothing more, and nothing less,” Casquada mimicked. “But your loss didn’t end there, did it?”

  “What happened...?” I asked cautiously as I was aware of the dark emotions circling around Shirohime, tainting her composure as she glared at the Newspaper Club President with the promise of pain in her eyes.

  Casquada stood up from where she knelt and replied while facing Shirohime.

  “Her father wasn’t careful when he spread his seed, and one of those took root and sprouted into a girl that was equally gifted as the Snow White Princess. When Snow White’s mother learnt of this, the mistress was banished from the family, and the illegitimate child was raised away from the Tenkawa household. But when the girl was of age, and having spent much of her life in training, her mother—who had been threatened with punitive action by the Tenkawa Family—returned to face them and delivered a challenge to the White Princess’s mother, the legitimate wife of Soran Tenkawa, the head of House Tenkawa. The challenge was simple. If the Mistress’s daughter defeated the legitimate daughter, Shirohime, then House Tenkawa would officially recognize her illegitimate daughter by adding the girl to the family register.

  “Of course, Snow White’s mother protested, but Soran Tenkawa agreed to the terms. This lit a bonfire under Snow White’s mum who had tolerated her husband’s infidelity for many years. In a fury, she declared that if her daughter lost to this girl, then she would leave the Tenkawas and never return. Not only that, she would take Anri with her, and deny her unfaithful husband any custody of her. Forget about visitation rights and so forth. Throw those out the window and under a speeding mag-lev.”

  I swallowed nervously before muttering, “And then Class Rep lost.”

  “She lost. As she said it was on a technicality, but a loss is a loss, and the victory went to her half-sister. Snow White and her mother packed their bags and left their home in Pan Pacifica, while the Mistress and her daughter moved in.”

  Casquada’s revelation had answered the question lurking in the back of my mind since I stepped out onto the rooftop, and it related to the ten odd unconscious students that Felicia was morbidly arranging into two neat rows with hands on their chests as though they were recently deceased. The scene was distracting and a little distressing, not just for me but to the crowd watching from the back of the courtyard, and I realized that the girl harbored a dark streak I’d been unaware of.

  But more to the point, my subconscious had been wondering for a while now whether it was possible for three first year high school girls to take down more than ten male students who were no strangers to a fight. Taking into account that Felicia and Angela were both renowned martial artists, and having learnt that Shirohime was a championship level fighter, I no longer doubted it was possible for the girls to do so.

  To my surprise, Shirohime exhaled long and loud, and then regarded me with a snide, sidelong look. “We came here to deal with your problem, not to talk about mine.”

  That was indeed true. Casquada had deviated us onto a side road, and it was time to get back on track. With a sigh, I nodded weakly to Shirohime, and lowered my head for a brief moment as I gathered myself for an assault on Casquada. When I felt ready, I stepped up to the girl who was now on her feet. To my dismay, Casquada was a little taller than me so I found myself looking up at her at a slight angle.

  “Why were you looking for me?”

  Casquada looked down at me dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”

  “You threatened the Cosplay Club girls with revealing the identity of the Silver Blue Princess. Why did you bother learning who she was in the first place?”

  The girl’s shoulders rose and fell deeply as she took a deep breath. “Because the identity of the Silver Blue Princess has been unsolved mystery for too long.”

  “And you decided to solve it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Just for the sake of solving it, or to extort something out of people?” I crossed my arms, but when they brushed my breasts, I lowered them and instead folded my hands behind my back. “Did someone tell you to solve it?”

  Casquada stiffened for a heartbeat, and had I blinked I would have missed it. However, I was staring at her intently, hoping to divine the truth from her by judging her responses.

  I lowered my voice a little. “Did you put the clothes and note in my shoe locker?”

  “In your locker? Why would I put anything in your locker?” Casquada asked, sincerely puzzled.

  Shirohime snorted and started to say something but I hastily stopped her. This was my show and I was running it.

  “Do you know who I am?” I asked the Newspaper Club President.

  “How could I know…who you…are…?” Casquada began to peer at me intently for a several seconds. Suddenly she gasped and took a long step back in order to study me from head to toes. “Oh my gods….”

  “Do you know who I am now?”

  Her eyes alternated from wide to narrow as she ran her gaze all over me. “You…you’re Ronin Kassius?” Casquada regarded me like an object of great archaeological importance, or more appropriately the scoop of the century. “You’re the Silver Blue Princess.” Then a deep frown furrowed her brow and she grew uneasy. “But you’re a girl.”

  “First of all, I’m not the Silver Blue Princess. I only cross-played as her.” I shook my head. “And secondly, I’m definitely a boy.”

  Casquada began shaking her head disjointedly in denial. “No. No way. You’re a girl. You are definitely a girl. But why are you attending school as a boy?” She gasped and then spoke in a hurry. “Is it like one of these weird animated storylines where you’re a girl raised as a boy but trying to be a girl whenever you can but your also afraid that people will see you as a girl rather than a boy?”

  “…huh? What…?”

  “Was it your mother’s idea or your father’s idea to raise you as the opposite gender?”

  “…ah, no. Neither….”

  “Wait—let me guess. You have a spinster aunt who likes turning girls into boys, and she convinced your family to raise you as a boy.”

  “…no, not at all…and if she’s a spinster wouldn’t it be the other way around…?”

  “What about your friends? Do they know?”

  She indicated Felicia and Angela on opposite sides of the courtyard, unbelievably keeping their dist
ance at a time when I truly believed Felicia would be barging over excitedly, but she was still busy arranging the boys on the ground with great care.

  “They know that I’m a boy,” I told Casquada. “And that’s the truth.”

  The girl closed her mouth and then stared at me with a complex expression. Without warning she stepped up close to me and sniffed me, forcing me to draw back in a hurry.

  “Hey, what are you—?”

  “You’re wearing perfume,” she pointed out.

  “That wasn’t my idea. Angela put it on me.”

  “That scent is Mystique Number Nine.” Casquada peered at me through lidded eyes. “No self-respecting boy would wear Mystique Number Nine.”

  “…ah, well—”

  “You…are a girl,” Casquada declared, widening her eyes slightly. “So why are you attending school as a male student?”

  Casquada was steamrolling all over me, and I was reaching the limit of my tolerance for this girl’s behavior and attitude. Balling my hands into fists, I reached out and then grabbed her by the blouse of her dress, drawing her face close to mine as I growled my words at her.

  “Let me make this clear to you—you journalistic hack. I am a boy. I’m male. I’m not a girl. I just happen to look this way. And it’s not my fault.” Leaning closer to her until our eyes crossed, I hissed the last part at her. “Do you wanna check under the hood?”

  Abruptly, I heard the ghost blurt into my ears. “Princess, stop! Bad idea! Very, very bad.”

  “Huh?” I muttered. “What do you mean bad idea?”

  Casquada looked faintly confused. “I haven’t said it’s a bad idea—”

  “Not you.” Ignoring the girl’s nonplussed look, I asked the ghost, “Explain why it’s a bad idea.”

  The ghost sounded fidgety. “Well, your Simulacrum body is quite flexible with its appearance. Do you remember how I mentioned I had made some adjustments to your physique to help disguise you better?”