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Authors: Mizuki Mizushiro

Tags: #Fiction, #Comedy

Murderer in the Flower of Death (13 page)

BOOK: Murderer in the Flower of Death
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“K-Kyousuke…” Maina was befuddled, while Eiri whispered to herself, “…Scary.”

Renko just laughed quietly with a “
kksshh
.” And then—

“Whoa…”

“…so”

“Cooooooooooool!”

A huge crowd of students had surrounded them at a distance to watch, assembling without Kyousuke and the others noticing.

Standing in the front row, Bob shrieked, her meaty hands pressed on her cheeks.

“Huh?! Oh, shit…that just drew a lot of attentio—”

It’s a little late to notice that now.

Following Bob’s outcry, the narrow hallway was filled with applause and cheers.

Renko plunked her hand down on Kyousuke’s shoulder, as he stood stock-still in the midst of the excited cheering. “Wooow, Kyousuke. A solid punch and some good threats! As expected from the top killer! And you managed to slay everyone’s hearts in an instant, didn’t you…? If you’re not careful, you’ll slay me, too. Could you be the ‘Casanova Killer’?
Kksshh.

“Before we worry about that,” Kyousuke replied in a powerless voice, “they’re probably gonna kill me…and not my heart, but my actual body.” He cast a sidelong glance at the herd of enthusiastic, frenzied murderers.
Come to think of it, Mohawk was too weak… Did he really go flying just from such a light punch? Or have I gotten altogether unreasonably strong…dammit.
It seemed like his situation was growing more and more problematic.

As he thought about his future life at this school, Kyousuke’s shoulders sagged.

Smells Like Rotten Blood
RUSTY NAIL, RUSTY HEART
FOURTH PERIOD

“…The state is destroyed by warfare, but the mountains and rivers are as always; spring comes to the city, and the grasses and trees bloom thickly—”

Reading aloud from an open textbook in her left hand, and tapping the iron pipe held in her right hand on her shoulder, Kurumiya paced slowly around the room. As usual, the classroom was enveloped in a tense atmosphere, but recently even that tension had begun to slacken.

Since class at Purgatorium Remedial Academy had begun five days ago, the students had begun to adapt to their strange new circumstances. Even Kyousuke, who was not a hardened killer, was no exception.

“—The flowers weep for these sad times; lamenting separation, the birds are stricken to the heart…” Kurumiya’s pass beside him sent a chill down Kyousuke’s spine, but even that was momentary. It may have been because, as a teacher, Kurumiya could not spend all her time on discipline.

Aside from the fact that several times a day, a student (usually Mohawk) would provoke Kurumiya’s wrath and receive a brutal punishment, class was conducted remarkably peacefully.

The omnipresent graffiti scrawl, the glaring eyes of his classmates, Kurumiya’s insane temperament, the bullying, the harassment, the various other deplorable injustices—if it hadn’t been for all of that,
it would have been pretty much the same scene as the middle school Kyousuke had attended…

“…Yawn.”
He couldn’t say he didn’t understand Eiri’s drowsy relaxation.

At Purgatorium Remedial, each teacher taught every subject to a single class. It was an unusual system, but Kurumiya was a surprisingly good educator, insane sadism notwithstanding. Under her guidance, the main points of a text were easy to grasp and to retain, and Kyousuke had no trouble recalling any of her lessons.

Even her characteristically childish voice was sweet and easy to listen to. “…The beacon fires have continued burning for three months; a letter from home would be worth ten thousand pieces of gold—” Listening to Du Fu’s poem “Spring View” being read so delicately, Kyousuke could feel the time slip away.

In this way, daily life at the institution was less troublesome than he had expected. However—
Only ten more minutes, and then it’s after school…huh…
There was one thing that was causing Kyousuke some serious distress: the fistfuls of stationery stuffing his pockets. That morning, he’d found a stack of letters addressed “to Kyousuke” waiting in his shoe cubby. Written in girlie bubble letters and with hearts drawn on them, these letters were the source of all evil, threatening Kyousuke’s fragile tranquillity.

“—My white hair becomes ever shorter from scratching; too thin to hold even a hairpin…” Feeling like Kurumiya’s lisping voice was far, far away, Kyousuke clenched his fists.

There were just a few minutes left until the final death knell of the day rang out. He could not afford to mess it up again this time.

“Kamiya, I, well… The fact that you killed twelve people, it makes you very…”

School was out. Behind the deserted gymnasium, Kyousuke found himself face-to-face with a female student. Her snow-white skin contrasted beautifully with her glamorous black hair. This second-year girl, his senior, had both hands clasped behind her back and was rocking back and forth bashfully.

She gazed at Kyousuke with upturned eyes, bordered by long eyelashes, and took a deep breath, as if to steady her resolve. Her face was as red as an apple. “I really like you! So, please, go…uh…please go out with me!” Her words burst with hidden feelings.

She thrust out a survival knife that she’d been keeping hidden behind her back. Her aim was for Kyousuke’s throat. “Waaah! S-sorry!”

A knife.
Narrowly evading the surprise attack, he sunk a fist into the pit of her stomach. With an “oof” and a puff of hot breath, and a blissful expression painted across her face, the upperclassmen crumpled over. Catching her collapsing body before she could fall, Kyousuke wiped away the cold sweat that had begun to collect on his forehead.

That was really dangerous, just now. I was careless because she was an upperclassman. I thought the second-years were supposed to be more rehabilitated. So why did she have a knife…?

“…Huh? Did you turn down another one? This one’s a real beauty, though.” As Kyousuke laid the unconscious upperclassman down on the ground, Renko stepped out of the shadows of the gymnasium.

A moment later, Eiri and Maina also appeared. Eiri stifled a yawn, while Maina said, “Kyousuke, you’re really popular. Amazing!” and clapped her hands in applause.

Kyousuke sighed deeply and stood. “Eh, I go for personality over looks…and it’s not like I’m happy just being popular among the weirdos, you know.” Three days had passed since the incident in the hall—and every day since, Kyousuke had been getting these bizarre love confessions.

In total, ten girls had approached him. At more than three per day, it was the start of a true era of romantic popularity for him. Of course, as they were a bunch of murderers, their methods of confession were nothing if not eccentric.

“I want to know ‘everything’ about you, Mr. Kamiya!” he heard, as he was nearly dissected.

“I’ll devour you, Kyousuke…I’ll become one with you,” he heard, as he was tackled by a girl with coal-black eyes.

“I want to turn you into furniture and do some interior decorating,” he heard, receiving a cryptic come-on from a girl with a saw in her hand.

And if he wasn’t dealing with some bizarre confession of love, he was running around in fear of certain death at the furious hands of Bob, who, bawling with the shock of rejection, had transformed into an uncontrollable human juggernaut and destroyed a section of one of the school buildings. That alone was enough to drive him to the brink.

The fact that Renko and the others appeared for the confessions acted as a kind of insurance against any worst-case scenarios. He hadn’t needed their help yet, but it was surely just a matter of time. “There’s no way I can keep this up…I’m really gonna die!” Exhausted in mind and body, Kyousuke hung his head, racking his brain in search of a plan.

With a “hmm,” Renko folded her arms and put her index finger to her cheek. “All kinds of girls are throwing themselves at you, aren’t they…? It’s pushing your mental limits more than your physical. You can’t help being so popular…but how can we help you…? Oh, I know!” Struck with inspiration, she clapped her hands together tightly. “They’re all confessing their love to you because you’re still single! Supposing you were to get a girlfriend, the confessions would stop! …Right? Don’t you think that’s a great idea?
Kksshh.

“No, no, that’s impossible,” he replied. “I don’t have anyone.” The only people he knew would go out with him if he asked also posed a serious threat to his life.

“Hmm? Sure you do, Kyousuke. You’ve got high-quality girlfriend candidates right here…three of us!” Turning, Renko opened her arms wide to encompass Eiri and Maina.

Hearing this, Eiri immediately shut her down. “…Huh? No way.”

Maina looked down in embarrassment. “Eeh?! K-Kyousuke’s girlfriend?! That’s totally impossible… Um, how do I say, well… Sorry!”

Kyousuke hadn’t even expressed interest, and he was still being rejected. “C’mon, Renko, you’re making things weird. Lay off, huh?” He wouldn’t call the atmosphere “crushing,” but it was pretty oppressive.

After all, Eiri and Maina were both really beautiful, and he had thought that they had become close in their own way over the past few days, but what was with those knee-jerk responses? It felt like instant death.

Renko nodded with a “
kksshh
” at Kyousuke’s hurt feelings. “Well. Okay, then, it’s settled! Go out with me, Kyousuke.”

“I’ll pass.”

“—”

“Ah, wait…I-I mean, look! I can’t see your face for the gas mask. I think you’re easy to get along with and interesting and all, but dating someone whose face you can’t see would be…I mean…” Looking as she did, it was more than a little scary when she went totally silent like this, because her changes in expression were impossible to read.

Renko huffed, “
Kksshh…
,” at Kyousuke, who could barely contain spasms of laughter. “Didn’t you just say that personality is more important than looks? Was that a lie?”

“Um, it wasn’t a lie, but…there’s a limit, you know? With someone who wears a gas mask twenty-four seven, there’s got to be something up with them, right? I mean, that’s pretty suspicious…?”

“Mean…!! You’re mean, Kyousuke! Too mean! And I believed you when you said that… But you’re the kind of person who picks his girlfriend based on her pretty face, aren’t you? And they say as long as your boobs are big, you’re good. I believed you!”

Yelling at him in her characteristically willful way, Renko flew at Kyousuke. As a matter of course, her abundant breasts pressed against his chest. Feeling that supple softness, Kyousuke couldn’t bear it anymore and cried out.

“Hey! Stupid…back off! Stop touching me!”

“No way! I’ll never, never, never separate from you!
Kksshh! Kksshh!

“Don’t throw a tantrum! And don’t play with your chest like that! If you move them around so v-vigorously, then…”

Whether accidentally or on purpose, as Renko was twisting around going, “No way, no way,” her boobs rubbed back and forth against Kyousuke with a delightful squish. Even with the gas mask smacking him in the head, it was an experience of pure bliss.

Before he knew it, Kyousuke had abandoned all attempts at resistance.
Who cares if she has a gas mask…?

“…Tch.”
A sharp click of the tongue interrupted his thoughts, and when he looked, Kyousuke saw Eiri glaring the two of them down with bloodthirsty eyes.

Maina, meanwhile had both cheeks in her hands and was blushing. “That’s too bold, Renko…”

Having come to his senses, Kyousuke hurriedly put his hands on
Renko’s shoulders and tried to peel her away. “H-hey…get off me, Tits McMask! Stop trying to make out with me! Eiri and Maina are watching, you know! Think a little bit about how this looks—”

“That’s the point, Kyousuke!” Renko cried out as she was pushed away. “That’s the plan!”

Kyousuke gaped blankly at her sudden response. “…Huh? The plan? What plan? …What are you talking about?”

“It’s my confession, my confession of love! I thought this would be the best method for stopping the rush of admirers coming after you.”

“Seriously?! …What is that gonna do?”

Renko laughed at Kyousuke with a “
kksshh
.” “It’ll definitely be fun to find out, eh! Good things are sure to happen, so just relax. I’m trying to put an end to your days of perilous danger!
Kksshh!
” She punctuated her bold declaration by thrusting her magnificent chest out with pride.

The eyeholes of her gas mask gleamed brightly. Faced with an unusually trustworthy-seeming ally, Kyousuke regained some of his faded vitality. “What incredible cleava— I mean, confidence. I’m counting on you, Renko!”

“…I was an idiot to count on you.”

It was lunchtime, Monday, after the weekend break. Seated in the cafeteria, Kyousuke had already sunk into a deep despair. He looked dejectedly at the spoon that was being fed to him, carrying a scoop of the “daily special garbage omelet rice.”

Renko, who was seated next to him, grasping his arm in one hand and trying to make him eat the omelet rice with the other, let out a “kksshh” and lowered the spoon regretfully. “What’s the matter, Kyousuke? You’re not really getting into it. Let’s be more flirty!”

Following her own suggestion, Renko pulled his arm closer to her and cuddled up to Kyousuke. The sweet shampoo scent wafted from everywhere on her soft body, strong enough to make him dizzy.

“……”

If it hadn’t been for the glint of the gas mask in the corner of his eye, he would likely have long ago lost all sense of reason.

BOOK: Murderer in the Flower of Death
12.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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