Murderer in the Flower of Death (16 page)

His classmates were practically salivating, full to the brim with bloodlust. Every one of their eyes were ablaze, shining with the fires of anticipation. Just as the girls were jealous of Renko flirting with Kyousuke—the boys were
jealous of Kyousuke getting that kind of affection and wanted to see him dead
.

“Kamiya! You’re getting too cocky, you bastard! You’re always being waited upon by those girls who follow you around… Don’t show off, asshole!! I’ll kill ya…I’ll definitely destroy you!”

“Hee-hee-hee…real-life killing…real-life dissection…hee-hee…unreal…”

“I won’t put up with it anymore, I’m at the limits of my patience! Forget that gas mask–wearing pervert…to have two beautiful girls
hanging off of you, and on top of that getting new love notes every day?! Die. I mean it—die!”

“Kamiya, you are burdened with too many sins…at least, let me put you to sleep with these hands! Now you may dance in ecstasy to your heart’s content, my beloved Azrael! Take him as your victim and devour this unclean creature! Heh-heh-heh…! Mua-ha-ha-ha…! Haaa-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Flinging sunglasses aside, licking lips, stamping feet in frustration, preparing to use his left arm—

Twelve killers sidled up to him.

Though none of them carried a deadly weapon, in their eyes shone madness, enough to make Kyousuke wince. Standing toward the back of the group, Shinji brushed back his hair in obvious self-satisfaction.

“You’re in too deep, Mr. Kamiya. They say the nail that sticks up gets hammered down, and that nail is you. Of course, nobody expected you to stand out in quite this way…heh-heh-heh. But that’s not really a problem, now is it?” Shinji said, spreading his arms dramatically. “You’ve killed twelve ordinary people. Killing twelve murderers should be no big deal, right? Well, then, please try to kill us!! If you don’t—” Shinji raised his right hand and snapped his fingers with a loud
crack
.

On cue, the other boys pulled out the weapons they’d been hiding. Carving knives, scissors, utility knives, daggers, drills…and more. All of them gleamed dangerously.

“…You’re going to die yourself! Heh-heh-heh!”

Flashing a sadistic smile, Shinji slowly folded his arms. It seemed like he had no intention of getting his own hands dirty; he was not even holding a weapon.

“You see these weapons, Kamiya?” Shinji continued, as if to use words themselves as weapons. “We got them from a
certain friend
, using the black market. Here in prison, smuggling weapons is similar to smuggling in luxury items. That is to say, it’s quite dangerous and difficult to move this many of them, but…it seems that our
friend
also does not think too highly of you, you see? We got the goods moved by
promising extraordinary compensation. The price was—” The smile disappeared from Shinji’s face as his bloodshot eyes opened wide.

“Dealing with you
once and for all
, Mr. Kamiya.”

His words were blunt. Dealing with Kyousuke once and for all—committing a new murder inside an institution meant to rehabilitate murderers—he said it as though it were nothing.

“…Wha—?” Kyousuke’s mind drew a blank. The pack of murderers in school uniforms approached him with insanity in their eyes and deadly weapons in their hands. Confronted with such a sight, Kyousuke found he couldn’t move a muscle.

Shinji kept him fixed with expressionless eyes. Involuntarily, he’d begun to tremble. “Well, then, won’t you please show me, Mr. Kamiya? Show me your skills as the Warehouse Butcher, that is. Killer of twelve…how many of
us
do you think you can kill in the end, hmm? Heh-heh-heh.” Again, he smiled broadly.

“Kyousuke Kamiya! Just shut up while we end you!”

Brandishing a gleaming butterfly knife, Oonogi fumed with rage.

With Shinji abstaining, eleven murderers rushed at Kyousuke.

“Bwah?!”

The right straight punch, thrown with all his might, caved in the side of his opponent’s face. Knocked into the copse of trees and spraying a mix of spittle and blood, Oonogi skidded to a stop, unmoving.

Bracing himself against the momentum that threatened to pitch him forward with the force of the follow-through, Kyousuke surveyed the scene, breathing hard. It had been maybe ten minutes since the fight had started. However…

“Hah…hah…,” Kyousuke panted, hands on his knees. “This…is…less of a big deal…than I thought…huh…?” Catching his breath, Kyousuke raised the corners of his mouth into a bold grin.

Among the eleven murderers who had attacked him, only one remained, cowering on the ground, holding his uninjured left arm and making a fuss. “Calm down! Hush now, Azrael! This…this bastard, when he gets too excited, his power explodes…! Grraaahhh!!”

The others had already had their fill of violence at Kyousuke’s hand. Not one of them lying there even so much as twitched. Without exception, every one of them was out cold, eyes rolled back in their heads.

Looking around at his miserable comrades, Shinji held his forehead and sighed. “What useless boys they were! I mean, really… Or maybe I should ask, Mr. Kamiya: Are you some kind of monster? That this many people still failed to kill you is, how should I say…highly abnormal.” He practically spat the words, glaring at Kyousuke with rage.

“I’m no monster…,” Kyousuke answered. “You’re all just too weak, you murderers.” His uniform and hair were in unbelievable disarray. Countless lacerations of various sizes crisscrossed his skin, and blood stained his clothing.

It was nothing serious. The sheer number of cuts looked like a big deal, but most of them were nothing more than scratches. Even his fading strength would probably soon recover, fueled by adrenaline and violent momentum. To Kyousuke, who had walked away from any number of fights in the past, trouble like this was barely trouble at all.

They may have been murderers, but when it came to a fight, these boys were total amateurs. Kyousuke couldn’t help but laugh.
Is that it?

“…Well? What now? There are only the two of you left, Shinji!”

“Two of us? …Ah. You didn’t bother with this useless idiot, hmm? But come to think of it…” Looking past the other boy, who was still talking to his own left arm, Shinji grew quiet. Then, biting his lip, his head hung down, his shoulders began to shake. “…Hee…! Hee-hee…! Eh-heh-heh…! Hee-ha…! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!” Scornful laughter burst forth from his crescent mouth.

Both Kyousuke and the boy who was holding his left arm looked at Shinji in confusion. “…What’s so funny?” Kyousuke demanded in a low voice.

Shinji immediately halted his loud laughter and raised his head to face Kyousuke. His expression, filled with joyful arrogance, caused the chill of a bad premonition to run up Kyousuke’s spine.

“What’s so funny? Heh-heh…! Of course it’s funny…heh-heh-heh! I told you already, didn’t I, Mr. Kamiya? You said, ‘There are only the two of you left,’ but, you see, Mr. Kamiya…” Shinji narrowed his eyes. His gaze did not fall on Kyousuke, but rather on the scene behind him.

“Ah, shit… Oww! You really got me, Kamiya…I’m definitely gonna wreck you!”

“Hee-hee-hee… You really hit me. Even my dad never hit me that hard…hee-hee-hee…”

“I won’t forgive you. Iwon’tforgiveyouIwon’tforgiveyouIwon’tforgiveyou…ever!”

Several of the other students had recovered and once again clutched weapons in their hands, expressions filled with bloodlust.

Shinji sneered, stifling the laughter in his pale throat.

“As you can see, you
have yet to kill a single one of us
! I’m beginning to wonder if you really have it in you, Mr. Kamiya. And you’re supposed to be the butcher of twelve? Heh-heh-heh.”

“……?!”

Shinji had hit the bull’s-eye. Kyousuke wasn’t the Warehouse Butcher…he was nothing more than an ordinary person, and he had no intention of killing his opponents. Even if he felt like he wanted to kill someone, Kyousuke hadn’t committed murder—he couldn’t.

Shinji’s smile intensified as Kyousuke ground his teeth in frustration. “…Well, what will you do? You’ll be killed if you continue on like this!”

Even the boy on the ground holding his left arm, perhaps inspired by Shinji’s rhetoric, began to work himself up into a frenzy, saying, “Hmm…so you finally calmed down, Azrael. You’re such a troublesome fellow. Well, then, bite at him to your heart’s content! Fwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!” In his other hand, he hoisted a nail-studded bat.

Surrounding Kyousuke now were five boys altogether, including Shinji. Most of them were wounded, but the murderous rage in their eyes was just that much stronger for it.

With a slight, unconscious flinch, Kyousuke spit out his fear along with his saliva and glared at the boys surrounding him. “Of
course…of course, I don’t have even the slightest intention to kill you assholes! But…I also don’t intend to be killed! If there’s anyone here who thinks they can take me out, give it a try!! With scum like you, half a killing is plenty! But until you lose the ability to stand up on your own, I’m gonna whale on you—”

Interrupting Kyousuke’s angry shout, Shinji reached into his blazer, fishing for a weapon of his own.

“Oh, is that so? Well, then, why don’t you go ahead and do that…hee-hee-hee!”

From an inside pocket, he pulled a crude revolver.

“Eh?! G…a gun?! Are you serious…?” The absolutely unexpected sight of a firearm sapped all of Kyousuke’s hot-blooded energy in an instant. Kyousuke had walked away from many fights, but this was the first time he’d ever had a gun pointed at him.

Shinji leveled the pistol at Kyousuke with both hands. “Of course, I’m quite serious, Mr. Kamiya! The friend who so kindly acquired this weapon for me, along with the rest of us here, all of us…we all earnestly intend to kill you!” Shinji cocked the hammer with a loud click. “I’ve been able to stack the deck a bit in my favor, you see! In the unlikely event that we fail to finish you off, we’re all facing pretty serious
discipline
, so we really have no choice.” He glared at Kyousuke with bitter, steady brown eyes.

“……”

If I don’t escape
, Kyousuke thought, but he couldn’t turn his attention away from the revolver. As if engulfed by the darkness of the gun barrel, the inside of his mind was shrouded in the deep black of despair.

“That’s a nice face, Mr. Kamiya… You’re probably tired by now, too, right? So I’m going to make it easy for you. Death is an eternal rest, you know.” Shinji sneered, pink gums visible. “If you were a girl, I would give you the honor of violating you after strangling you to death with my own hands, but…so sorry, eh? Hee-hee-hee!”

Behind Shinji, the dense copse of trees was shrouded in shadow despite the daylight, and the gloom seemed to symbolize the darkness
filling the gang’s murderous hearts.
Well…this is it. I’m going to die here.
For a moment, in the darkness that contracted and expanded as the trees swayed in the wind, Ayaka’s image floated up in his mind.

“Well, then, good night, Mr. Kamiya…sweet nightmares!” His face cold and cruel, Shinji moved his finger to the trigger.

“…Just die.”

A figure burst from the shadows of the trees, little more than a blur of movement, closing on Shinji faster than the eye could follow.

“…Don’t move.” Quickly and gracefully, the figure was upon him, its left hand covering his mouth while the right pressed against his throat, ready to take him down. The long, supple fingers were tipped with beautiful scarlet nails. “If you move, I’ll kill you…
I’ll crush your throat in.
Now, be a good boy, and give me that revolver.”

Shinji stiffened, eyes open wide. Kyousuke and the other murderers stood dumbfounded, bewildered at this sudden development. With everyone’s eyes on her, restraining Shinji from behind, was—

“That goes for you, too, assholes. Nobody move…if you value this guy’s life, that is.”

She wore a uniform with a short skirt and a rust-red wavy ponytail. Squinting her eyes, the same color as her hair, she seemed more displeased than usual.

“Wh-what…why are you here—Eiri?”

“…No reason. I only came to check out the situation. Speaking of which, why are
you
here? And why haven’t you killed anybody?” Her voice sounded more irritated than usual. “Covered in so many wounds…you’re the Warehouse Butcher. Just what are you waiting for? Why should I have to bother…?” She clicked her tongue in displeasure.

Shinji seemed to finally realize who exactly had him by the throat. His eyes, wavering with shock and agitation, regained their composure in a twinkle. “Heh-heh…now, please don’t embrace me without warning, Miss Eiri… Don’t you think I might get excited? Your fingers are chilly, and they feel so good… Tell me, how are mine?” He
tossed the revolver away, and his now-empty hand crept toward Eiri’s exposed thigh.

“Move another centimeter, and I’ll slice you to ribbons.”

She pressed one of her nails into his skin, drawing bright red blood.

“……?!”

Catching his breath, Shinji stiffened once again. The crowd of murderers was tense with fear and anticipation.
She’s unarmed, so how did she—?
Eiri laughed scornfully at her bewildered spectators.

“…Hmph…
amateurs
. A lethal weapon only has value so far as it can be concealed. Kill without letting your target know of its existence until the final moment. Each and every one of you prepared an ostentatious weapon… Haven’t you ever heard of a surprise attack? A truly lethal weapon would be… In the moment you realize it’s a weapon, just as soon as you realize it’s a weapon, once you’ve realized it’s a weapon, you’re already dead.
Like my nails.
”