Murderer in the Flower of Death Page 3

  “Hey, next in line! What’re you waiting for?!” Kurumiya’s irritated voice jolted the class back to attention. “Get to the podium on the double! Unless you wanna be disciplined?!”

  There was a crash from somewhere behind and to the left of Kyousuke’s seat. “Eeee!! S-ssss-ssowwy! Owow…” A petite girl with short chestnut-colored hair made her way up the aisle, her slippers flapping audibly. “R-really sowwy……I was s-ssss-spaced out! Waaahh!” With an appearance reminiscent of a small, vulnerable animal and a childish, inarticulate way of speaking, the tiny girl seemed so shaken by Kurumiya’s angry tone that she barely made it to the lectern, tripping over herself several times in the process.

  Her tear-soaked, flaxen-colored eyes wandered restlessly left and right, and she said, “A-ahm…well, it’s…ah…sorry for being born!” She bowed vigorously…and with an audible whack! threw her forehead into the flat wooden top of the podium.

  The classroom fell silent again. The girl didn’t move, her forehead stuck where it had impacted, until finally: “Wa…wah…waaaaaaaah…” Her stiff body began to tremble, little by little.

  Now see here, don’t cry, thought Kyousuke, just as Kurumiya readied her iron pipe and said, “Go ahead and cry. Should I smash your stupid skull?” Her face was perfectly expressionless, her threatening voice low and dry.

  The trembling girl’s body twitched with a noticeable start, and she raised her tear-streaked face. “I-I’b alweady…cwyinnng…sowwwyyy…hic.”

  “Hmph.” Kurumiya’s cheek twitched. Kyousuke was sure it was over. Probably anyone would have thought the same. The girl let out a small shriek, clearly at her wit’s end, and pressed her eyes closed, hard. “Hmm, well, I guess that’s that, eh?” Kurumiya sighed.

  The iron pipe swung downward, slicing audibly through the air with bone-crushing force.

  “Continue your self-introduction. You have one minute, forty-six seconds remaining.” The tip of the iron pipe had come to a stop just inches from crushing the small girl’s skull.

  “……Wha—?” The girl opened her eyes a sliver to see that Kurumiya had already replaced the iron pipe back over her shoulder and fallen back half a step.

  Facing the girl, whose eyes were still wide with terror, Kurumiya spoke again. “Heya, stupid! What do you think you’re doing, huh? Get on with it already! Don’t think that just ’cause you’re such a pip-squeak, you can test me.” Apparently Kurumiya felt some sympathy for the girl; maybe looking at her reminded the sadistic teacher of herself in some small way.

  “Eh? Ah…y-yeeeeees!!” Wasting no more time, the small girl at the podium straightened her shoulders and raised her voice, speaking in a skittering lilt without pausing or breathing.

  “Maina Igarashi, fourteen years old! My favorite foods are fluffy things and springy things and sweet things, and my least favorite foods are crunchy things and sticky things and bitter things—I meeeaaan—ah, um, what was it…o-oh yeah! The number of people you killed! I’ve killed…”

  Tears filled the small girl’s—Maina’s—eyes once more. She bit her lip and continued in a shaky voice, “…Three people. But that was an accident…because I’m stupid. Because of me, everyone…” She’d begun to sob now in short, high-pitched shudders. “I didn’t kill them because I wanted to…hic…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m an idiot, I’m so sowwy…I didn’t say that right. I’m incompetent, but nice to meetchu…I didn’t say id wight agwain. Ah, I messed ub the mess ub!” Maina dejectedly returned to her desk, her tear-soaked face showing an awareness of profound sin.

  Looking at Maina, who sobbed convulsively in her seat, Kyousuke felt his heart lighten. There is one, a decent person! Murder is murder, but… The impression given by the first girl had been so jarring that he’d thought for sure that his classmates were nothing but deviants incapable of contemplating anything other than cold-blooded murder…but thinking it over, Kyousuke realized that there were probably a handful who’d committed crimes of passion.

  Maina had said that it was an “accident.” She had said that she didn’t kill them because she wanted to. She seemed just like a normal schoolgirl, this young woman who had killed people through no intention of her own and who now trembled under the terrible weight of her crime. Why, if you took her out of this obscene circumstance…Igarashi must also be uneasy in this place…that’s it!

  Kyousuke resolved to try to talk with her as soon as possible. And if there were any other normal classmates, they could all form a group together and oppose dangerous people like Eiri. It seemed like the best idea he had.

  “Okay, okay, next! There’s thirteen of you left, so let’s get on with it already!” Despite Kurumiya’s impatient tone, Kyousuke relaxed, letting some of the tension slip from his shoulders. He didn’t know how the next hour would go, but surprisingly, he thought he could manage.

  …There was no way he would manage.

  Two more classmates had given their self-introductions after Maina, and they very much belonged here. Kyousuke could feel his earlier sense of relief rapidly slipping away.

  The first had been a small hunchbacked boy surrounded by an aura of melancholy who introduced himself as Kagerou Usami. Most of his face had been hidden by long, greasy bangs, and he’d mumbled in a low voice that made him difficult to understand. From what little Kyousuke had been able to make out, Usami had killed one person, but he’d mostly spent his time at the podium reciting strange names that Kyousuke didn’t recognize, like “Jeffrey Dahmer” and “Ed Gein.” …Maybe they’re actors? The strange hunchback oozed a curious grotesqueness, and Kyousuke made a note to avoid him as much as possible.

  After Usami was a tall boy with dark skin who wore thick dreadlocks and sunglasses even indoors; Arata Oonogi, he’d said his name was, before proudly boasting about how he’d “broken up two lovebirds with his knife.” Nothing close to remorse had passed over his face as he’d recounted the murders: He didn’t even seem to be aware that he’d committed a crime. Another student that Kyousuke would have to try his best to avoid.

  And after Oonogi…

  “Next is the asshole in the very front row! Go on up!” Kyousuke’s turn had arrived. Swallowing audibly, he stood—fists clenched, brow dripping with sweat—and, trying to keep his body’s trembling in check, ascended to the podium. With a deep breath, he turned to face the room.

  The scene was like something out of a hallucination…or a nightmare. Inside the graffiti-covered ruins of a high school classroom, arranged in four rows and four columns, the bizarre assortment of student criminals seemed even stranger and more threatening, and Kyousuke, who was accustomed to dealing with delinquents and thugs, couldn’t help but cringe. No way…what are these people? Are there no decent ones after all? He could feel every murderous eye in the room watching his every move, and it filled him with a deep sense of dread. He wanted to escape somehow, to run and not look back…but that wasn’t an option. I’ve got to give it all I’ve got; I won’t back down from a bunch of low-life killers.

  Gathering his mental fortitude, Kyousuke glared out across the class. “…Kyousuke Kamiya, fifteen years old. The number of people I killed is twe—” He hesitated. While he couldn’t admit that he’d never killed anyone, would confessing to the crime they’d falsely pinned on him really be a good idea? No, I’ll just have to give a different number, something small, something believable. After all, the nail that sticks up gets the hammer. Even in a place like this, it wouldn’t be a good idea to stand out.

  “Um…the number of people I’ve killed is one. I didn’t use a weapon, I beat him to death with my bare hands—”

  “You’re lyyyiiing,” Kurumiya interrupted. “You killed twelve people, didn’t you, Kamiya? Is our all-star murderer feeling modest about having the highest kill count in the class? Heh-heh-heh!”

  Kyousuke didn’t have a reply. Just like that, his planned illusion had been shattered, swept away by the giggling schoolgirl teacher, who now grinned at him with sadistic glee. I’ve “killed” more th
an anyone? I’m the head of a class of murderers?!

  Staring at Kyousuke, who was rapidly turning an ashen shade of white, Kurumiya continued, the rest of the class murmuring while she twisted the knife, as though this were some ordinary schoolyard gossip that had nothing to do with mass murder.

  “You locked twelve older boys in a warehouse, and then, using metal bats and chains and concrete blocks and anything else you could get your hands on, you totally slaughtered them, isn’t that right? I’ve met a lot of killers, but in all of Japan, there’s no one as atrocious as you! Why, on kill count alone, you’re ranked fifth in the history of the country! Second for most kills at once, just behind the ‘Tsuyama Thirty Massacre.’ And not only that, you didn’t even use a gun! You beat them to death with whatever was lying around! And to top it all off, you’re still a minor! How absolutely hellish! I bet you were planning on acting all mature and aloof, thinking you’d trick me right along with the rest of the class, eh? But so much for that idea, huh? That’s right…I promise here and now that I’m gonna beat that cowardly, cunning little mind of yours into shape!!”

  That’s it… I’m done for! Kyousuke could hear the whispers of his classmates.

  “Who the hell is this guy, Kyousuke Kamiya…? He’s really horrible! Double digits? That’s too awful!!” “A mass murder? Twelve people at once? That’s crazy! What a frightful person! Ha-ha-ha…,” “H-hee-hee…the spurting body fluids, the gray matter flying around, the agonized death shrieks… Hee-hee-hee-hee…,” “Oh…scary…that’s scary…help me, Daddy…Mommy…get me out of here…,” and so on. Every voice, even those that mumbled incoherently, was filled with a mix of fear and admiration, intrigue and envy.

  In perhaps the worst possible turn of events, Kyousuke had just gotten everyone’s attention. And there was no going back now. Dammit! Now I’m a target for sure… After class, I bet, someone’s going to… He hung his head, shoulders drooping, and returned to his seat in a gloomy mood.

  As soon as he took his place, however, Kyousuke felt someone’s stare bore into him, and looking around, he saw the beautiful young woman and killer of six—Eiri—was looking him over with a piercing gaze.

  Immediately, she averted her eyes, returning to her nail art. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse. There could be little doubt: Eiri Akabane was interested in him. Whether her strange hostility was born of curiosity or envy, Kyousuke couldn’t tell. Her drowsy gaze only seemed to sharpen when focused on him.

  Those rust-red eyes, sharp like blades… Kyousuke’s skin prickled in horror, and for a moment, it felt as if a knife was lodged in his throat. This is bad…really bad! Not just Eiri…everyone is looking at me! As the self-introductions continued, Kyousuke wondered how many days he could survive.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m the ‘Japanese Ted Bundy,’ Shinji Saotome. Heh-heh… I’m sure you all know who that is, right? Ted Bundy? He’s that peerless strangler from America, the murderer whom I admire and respect the most! And while I personally can’t compare with his marvelous thirty-person kill count…well, I have killed two people, both of them girls. I strangled them with my bare hands… I could feel it all between my fingers…especially their final, delicate breaths…

  “Of course, afterward, I also… Well, let’s just say that I indulged myself a little. To be frank, I’m a necrophile. I love girls, especially the beautiful ones, and especially when they look just like dolls. Like Eiri Akabane from earlier! …Ah, anyway, Kyousuke Kamiya, let me say that I truly respect you as a killer. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

  The boy was pale and delicate, beautiful at a glance but utterly horrible. When their eyes met, he winked at Kyousuke, who felt his stomach turn. There was no doubt: This Shinji was completely, irredeemably insane.

  Of course he thinks I’m just like him…everybody does! To add to his nicknames, Slayer and Megadeath, now came the “Warehouse Butcher,” killer of twelve! And it wasn’t a nickname that would have any traction among the delinquents and hooligans he was familiar with. No, the people attracted to this label would be insane murderers and psychotic perverts. Kyousuke couldn’t help but groan as he thought of the trials awaiting him. Is this what my life has come to?

  “…Well, then. Everyone’s done with their self-introduction now, right?” Kurumiya retook her place at the podium. “Oh yeah, I guess there was that one pigheaded bastard from before…probably dying now…but if he pulls through, I guess he’ll be back sooner or later.”

  The atmosphere instantly grew heavy and tense. Kurumiya tapped the iron pipe on her shoulder, looking out across the class of murderers with a faint smile. There was not the slightest hint of fear in her wide, youthful eyes, and though she may have looked like nothing so much as an elementary school student, it seemed that, even if the whole class were to gang up and rush her at once, she would be impossible to kill.

  “Well, what are your impressions, now that we’ve all finished our self-introductions? Are you starting to see that every single one of you is an irredeemable shit stain, huh? —I mean, where do you think you are? This school is society’s garbage dump, a place where trash like you is thrown away, together. A dumpster, a pigsty, a home for demonic subhuman filth! You starting to catch on?”

  What Kurumiya said was unfortunately true, thought Kyousuke.

  While there were a handful of students who, like Maina, had killed accidentally, most had either done it on purpose, knowing exactly what they did, or were the type who thought nothing of a little casual murder. I’m supposed to lead an academic life stuck with these bastards? Impossible! But it wasn’t like he had a choice.

  They were so foreign to him: their ideas, their mind-sets, their ideals and reasons… Kyousuke couldn’t understand them at all. And he certainly didn’t understand why he had been thrown in here with them. An abnormal institution for even more abnormal students.

  “Is this hell?” Kurumiya was saying. “No, it’s purgatory. A purgatorium where your filthy little souls, black with sin, can be burned clean. And our duty as teachers is to beat your ugly, warped natures back into proper shape, to hammer and chisel and cut away until we’re left with something beautiful. And believe me, we’ll do whatever it takes…heh-heh-heh!”

  Hijiri Kurumiya—an abnormal teacher supervising abnormal students. No one should cross this demon girl of a teacher. Kyousuke’s thoughts were interrupted by an angry roar.

  “Especially you! You monster, Kyousuke Kamiya! The filth stuck to you is worse than anyone else. I plan to properly purify you. Hell, I’m looking forward to it! You killed twelve people, so I should be twelve times as rough with you, right? Do you think you’ll die first or go insane?” All eyes in the room were fixed on him.

  “…Ha…ha-ha-ha…” There’s nothing I can do but laugh in a situation like this.

  “Hey, you little shithead! What the hell are you laughing at?! Do you want to be disciplined that badly?! Huh?!”

  “Wha—?! No, that’s not it! That’s not it at all!” Kyousuke immediately apologized. “It’s not like that, so you can put down the pipe… There’s no need to smash my face in! I’m really sorry, honestly, I won’t make trouble, so you can just let it go!” I take that back. This is not a laughing situation.

  Kurumiya snorted at the groveling Kyousuke with derision and slowly lowered the iron pipe. “Hmm…okay. But I’ll be paying special attention to you from now on! I wonder how long you can keep that cowardly act up, eh? It would be great if you tried your best… Oh, and the same goes for the rest of you filthy little killers! I’m in charge here, and every single one of you is gonna kneel before me in agony and terror! I’m gonna stomp the hope right out of you! Do you worthless scum get it? There’s no such thing as ‘human rights’ here!” She smacked her palm against the blackboard, sending a wave of silence rippling through the class.

  The speaker near the ceiling shook, and a hoarse chime rang out. “Hmm? Is it already time?” Kurumiya frowned, looking down at her rough, gunmetal-gray watch. “
I guess so… All right, worms! We’ll have a short recess. Your next class starts in ten minutes, and if you’re not in your seat by the time second period starts…I’ll be just thrilled to break you! Heh-heh-heh!” She wore a crooked smile on her sweet, innocent-looking face, an expression that did nothing to hint at the violent sadist beneath.

  Kyousuke silently stewed at his desk.

  “…Wait, you.” As Kyousuke was rising from his seat, a cold voice, sharp like a knife, stopped him in his tracks. He awkwardly slunk back down into his chair, reluctantly turning to face the speaker.

  “…What is it, Eiri Akabane?”

  “Eiri is fine,” the young woman replied. “Tell me, did you really kill twelve people?” She mentioned it so casually. There were daggers in her half-lidded eyes, and though she kept her head bowed over her painted nails, those eyes tracked Kyousuke’s every movement. Her inquiry seemed more like a cross-examination than a genuine question.

  “Ah no…th-that is…,” Kyousuke stammered, averting his eyes from her intense gaze.

  “Pardon me,” interrupted another voice. “Would you be so kind as to allow me to join the conversation? I had meant to speak with you during the break, but it seems you’ve been otherwise engaged before I could reach you.” It was a bright, amiable voice, and when Kyousuke turned to face the new speaker, he was met with the sight of a beautiful, gentle-looking boy with light brown hair, wearing a friendly smile. “Lovely to meet you both, by the way! I’m the strangler, Shinji Saotome. I’m so pleased to be in the same class with you two splendid killers. Truly, it is an honor.”

  “Uh…yeah,” Kyousuke muttered. “S-same to you.” He stared at the other boy’s outstretched hand and, hesitating, looked back at Shinji with an insincere smile.

  As Shinji’s strangely cold, clammy hand met his, Kyousuke felt a chill run across his skin, as though thousands of insects were crawling all over his body. Shinji had strangled two girls with that hand.