Sister Princess Saturday Report! No. 17 – Vengeance?
The girls sobbed while surrounding Kaho’s bloody corpse.
They were of course not crying because the precious life of their sister had been snuffed out. Nobody liked Kaho; she led a despicable existence from the moment she had been brought into the world. She was so awful a child that the mere fact that she had spawned this beast drove Kaho’s mother to suicide not long after she had given birth. Suffice to say that not a single soul mourned Kaho’s death for normal reasons; even those few on the island she had never met could not help but feel the tiniest tinge of satisfaction upon catching a glimpse of Kaho’s gaping head wound.
No, the Sisters shed tears because they believed that without Kaho, they would never be able to resurrect the Sister Princess. They had been taught from birth that the 12 of them were necessary to complete the ritual that would bring their beloved goddess back to life. Now that Kaho was gone, what would they do?
Karen was the first to compose herself. She took out her cell phone and made a quick phone call. A few minutes later an ambulance arrived, and two men gently loaded Kaho’s bloody body into the vehicle and drove away. The school ground was silent for what seemed like an eternity, but after a few minutes, the children hesitantly went about their business. But something about the situation didn’t sit well with Wataru. After all, it isn’t every day that someone you know is sniped through the skull while you are stumbling across the finish line in a race like a spastic chimpanzee. The gears slowly turned in Wataru’s mind, and finally he spoke up.
“Wait a minute,” Wataru said. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Karen replied, her voice cold as ice. “Everything is taken care of.”
“But . . . but . . . ” Wataru stammered. He looked at the other students for support, but nobody wanted to make eye contact with him. As soon as Wataru looked at someone, that person would look away as quickly as possible. Wataru was confused, but let’s face it: that was not such an uncommon mindset for him. He couldn’t figure out why Karen would not want to call the police and inform them about Kaho’s death. They could investigate the crime scene and potentially discover the killer’s identity!
But Wataru was as ignorant as he was spindly and unathletic. It wasn’t that Karen didn’t want the police around; it’s that she and the other Sisters were the police. Or, rather, that they controlled the police, along with everything else on the island. The other students were not as stupid and inattentive as Wataru; they knew the score, and they would not dare interfere with what the Sisters desired. Wataru, being a spineless wimp, also decided to hold back from challenging Karen, even though he still did not feel good about what had transpired.
That evening, the Sisters held a meeting in the living room. They made sure Wataru was asleep and wouldn’t interrupt them by drugging his drink during dinner. It was quite easy. They sat in a serious circle not speaking for a while. Nobody knew where to begin. Eventually, though, Chikage stood up and walked into the middle of the circle.
“I will communicate with the Sister Princess,” she said. Chikage was the only one of the Sisters who could maintain contact with the goddess for more than a few seconds at a time. Chikage closed her eyes and concentrated. A voice tickled the back of her mind; it whispered into her unconscious. Chikage’s eyes went blank for a few minutes and she stared into space. The Sisters stayed utterly still, waiting for the moment when Chikage would enter reality again.
Eventually, Chikage’s eyes regained color and focus. Her face was covered with sweat and she breathed heavily. The Sisters leaned forward in anticipation, waiting to receive the wisdom of the Sister Princess.
“The Sister Princess says that Kaho is not necessary,” Chikage said. “What we were told all our lives is not necessarily the truth — 12 Sisters will indeed make it much easier to summon the Sister Princess, but it is not a necessity. We were simply told this to give us an incentive to better control our murderous impulses and keep us out of trouble. That is the truth.”
“But what are we going to do about the attack?” Haruka asked. “We need to strike back — whoever killed Kaho needs to pay. We need to send a message; we cannot stand idly by while someone kills one of our own.”
“We cannot do anything,” Chikage said. “That is what the Sister Princess has decreed.”
“Then if I must act on my own, I will,” Haruka said. She stood up and stormed out of the room, walking in long strides upstairs to her room. Haruka went to her closet and retrieved a bow and quiver and stocked the quiver with arrows. She then ran to Wataru’s room, walked inside and shook Wataru awake.
“Hubba wha . . . ?” Wataru slurred.
“We’re going, Beloved Brother,” Haruka said.
“fkjdslfjkldjflksdjlkfd” Wataru mumbled.
“Yes,” Haruka said. “We are going to kill the man who killed Kaho.” Haruka grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room, down the stairs and out of the house. She led Wataru back to the track; because she was one of many people raised on a steady diet of police procedurals, Haruka believed that the criminal would eventually come back to the scene of the crime. She hid in a nearby bush along with Wataru and waited.
Soon a large man showed up. He was dressed in a dull brown overcoat and had an awful toupee on his head. He seemed to be searching for something around the track. The man came to a stop next to a patch of dried blood that marked where Kaho had died. He peered down at it for what seemed to Haruka to be an abnormal amount of time. It was then that something caught Haruka’s eye — it was one of Kaho’s pom-poms sticking out of one of the coat’s many pockets.
Haruka’s eyes turned red with rage. It was as if this poorly dressed man were taunting Haruka by keeping a trophy of his kill rather conspicuous. There were of course several rational explanations available for this turn of events, but by this point, the murderous rage lurking within Haruka had built to the point where she was incapable of making rational decisions. She wanted to spill blood, and she would do it no matter what.
Haruka leaped out from behind the bush while Wataru slumped over. Why Haruka had taken the trouble to bring Wataru all the way out here is beyond me. Perhaps she wanted to show off to him. Who knows? Haruka grabbed an arrow from her quiver, readied it in her bow and let out a war bellow as she charged at the man examining the dried pool of blood.
“Why hello there, young lady,” the man said. “I’m looking for a bracelet that my dead wife lost around her. Perhaps you can help me fi–”
Before he could finish the sentence, however, Haruka let loose her arrow. The arrow flew through the air and pierced the man’s chest, stabbing deep into his heart. The man keeled over and died instantaneously, but Haruka was not yet finished. She fired a flurry of arrows into the man’s body while screaming. She shot arrows into his stomach. She shot arrows into his legs. She shot arrows into his chest. She shot an arrow into the sky; and soon it landed in that guy’s eye.
When all her arrows were exhausted, Haruka slumped to the ground, breathing heavily. The dead man rather resembled a porcupine at this point. A dead porcupine. Tears streamed down Haruka’s face. She cried not out of relief for having murdered who she believed to be Kaho’s killer, nor did she cry for Kaho herself. Instead, she cried because it had been a long time since she had been able to indulge these impulses. Haruka had been burying these feelings for so long that it felt amazing to let them all loose all at once.
Haruka was in such a daze that when she walked home, she forgot to bring Wataru along with her. He made it home eventually, so we won’t bother with his fate afterward. What matters — and what you, Dear Reader, may have surmised at this point — is that Haruka did not of course kill the man who murdered Kaho. It would be all too easy if she could return to the scene of the crime and catch the man in the act, wouldn’t it? The pom-pom had been planted on the man, of course. You saw him a bit before Haruka brutally killed him, yes? He didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer, hm?
As I wrote before, Haruka nor any other Sister ever found Kaho’s true killer. And perhaps it is best that it is kept that way.