Free Murderer in the Flower of Death by Mizuki Mizushiro

growling voice. He gaped in the shock of the transition.
    By the time he came to his senses, Kurumiya, who had long since finished with the “discipline,” had shouldered the blood-spattered pipe and was looking down at Kyousuke from the lectern with an icy glare.
    “…Hmm? Did you say, ‘What is it?’ To
me
? That’s a fine way to behave in class for someone who intentionally took his seat only moments before we started! You must
really
want to be disciplined.”
    “Eh? W-wait, please! That’s not what I mea—”
    “…Oh? Then, what did you mean? Why did you have such a joyful look on your face? I’m just dying to hear, so please explain. And before you do that, stand up.”
    “E-explain?! I mean, if I could just stay seated…”
    “I won’t allow it. I thought I told you that I will absolutely not allow back talk? Are you making fun of me?”
    “N-no, ma’mb…sorryeh…ugu!! I understanmb…ndu!!” Kyousukenodded in assent, even with Kurumiya reaching down from her post to tortuously grind the end of the bloody iron pipe into his cheek.
    …Wh-what the hell is this! Even if I try to avert my eyes, her iron pipe comes after me. Is she going to beat me? Hit me with the pipe and then lick up the blood? I underestimated her after all. It’s like a bad joke.
    The timing couldn’t be worse, dammit… How am I supposed to explain this?
    Of course, there was no way that he could honestly confess that “I suddenly broke into a grin imagining that a girl from Class B who I just met was being made to do this and that as her punishment for being late to class. My apologies,” nor continue on to honestly say that “Because of that I am not standing, but I am indeed erect,” absolutely not. Forget being “disciplined,” she’d beat him to death.
    However, since Eiri was beside him to the left, if he were to stand up, the fact that he was hard would be obvious to her. And it just so happened that, at this one moment of all moments, she was not fiddling with her manicure, but instead watching him with puzzled eyes, waiting to see what he would do. On the other hand, embarrassment and humiliation was still preferable to death by blunt force trauma.
    Resolving himself to the inevitable scorn and disgust of his female classmates, Kyousuke slowly, resignedly stood—
    “Aaah!! Not
that
…n-noooooo!!”
    From the other side of the classroom wall, a coquettish voice belonging to someone in Class B cried out suddenly.
    …Wha—? That high-pitched voice…it c-couldn’t be…her?!
“Little Kyousuke,” who had just been starting to quiet down, suddenly got his energy back. Kyousuke reflexively lowered himself back down into his seat.
    “…I see. I totally understand, Kamiya. That’s your choice, is it?” Reaching the limit of her patience, Kurumiya once again descended from the lectern. Tossing the crushed iron pipe aside, she pulled new ones out from somewhere.
There are two pipes now.
Carrying a deadly weapon in each hand, Kurumiya drew closer to Kyousuke.
    Oh God… Am I going to get beaten down like that asshole earlier? But there’s no helping it… Renko’s also receiving her punishment, so I, too…What is this crap? And here I had decided I wasn’t going to let myself get killed.
    Wiping the blood around his mouth away, even as he steeled his innermost thoughts, Kyousuke couldn’t stop shaking.
    Kurumiya stood in front of his desk. A pair of eyes housing an agitated light stared down Kyousuke head-on.
    “…Any last words?”
    Surrounded by a haze of anger, Kurumiya raised her deadly weapons.
    In his terror, Kyousuke couldn’t move a muscle. Wordlessly looking down, he clenched his teeth.
    “Hmm…I see. In that case, I’ll send you to the next life right no—”
    “Yoo-hoo! I’m back from the shores of the River Styx, little miss! Gya-ha-ha!”
    The door at the front of the classroom was thrown off its hinges as a lone male student came crashing in. Trampling over the broken door, raising