Scourge Of Urasaria

Mia was sitting in Matoi's mansion that night, her head a little stable from lack of alcohol. She had been celebrating her presidency along the Elite Four and Serena since she returned to Urasaria, though she had not yet told them of her murder of Kirihara. That was alright: she figured none of them would have an issue with it, besides perhaps Marisa; and even this was not out of sympathy for Kirihara, but that Mia assumed her a generally empathetic creature. Many a first-year outting had been extended by Marisa almost obsessively worrying over wounded animals or civilians she had recently seen.

Someone knocked at Matoi's mansion's door.

"Who the hell could that be?" said Marisa.

"Did you call Yuruko over?" said Samuel to Serena.

"Um, no."

"I think I know who it is." muttered Mia, smiling a little as she answered it to two of Urasaria's security guards. "Yes?"

"We'd like to speak to you about Kirihara Kishor."

Mia looked back at the four with a slick grin. "Of course. I'll be back in a minute."

She walked outside with them and attempted to angle herself in such a way that she was visible from the street. This was no turn to sadism for Mia, but merely that she had long despised Urasaria's staff and knew that everyone else in her class did as well.

"Are you aware of the last known whereabouts of Kirihara Kishor?"

"I assume she's at the pigs' trough she usually feeds out of."

One of the guards snickered.

"This isn't funny."

He stopped snickering.

"No, I'm not aware." said Mia.

"At her last known location, according to her tablet, she was within about twenty feet of you. This was before her tablet location completely disappeared -- it was destroyed."

"And?"

"And you claim that you have no clue where she is now?"

"Do you enjoy asking me such stupid and inane questions? I know exactly what it is you're about to accuse me of, so say it."

"We have reason to believe you killed Kirihara Kishor, and--"

With a single blue beam she dispatched the first, then glared over the second, who was in shock. "I want you to tell Armstrong what I did here, and that I killed Kirihara because she cheated. She provoked me, I attacked first, and I won. It was easy."

She watched as he nodded quickly, then backed away until he was out of her range, as he faded to become one with the steep night.

++++++

The next morning, Mia came out on stage wearing her new presidential outfit. This had been a collaboration between her & Serena, where the former thought over how she wished to be viewed as president, what emotions she could evoke through her outfit, and the latter just sent Mia images of anime heroines & villains.

She wore long black gloves, taller black boots, and a long, Viktorian-gothic black women's blazer. Around her neck was a Worldwide-gold scarf made of thousands of their carapaces. When disciplining students, she would sometimes whip this at them and sync up an actual summon of Worldwide so it appeared to be alive, throwing a scare in to the student that they wouldn't forget. With her beaked mask on, she essentially looked like a regal elemental witch.

This was not an outfit she always wore, but she enjoyed it for appearances.

"I'll begin by announcing my squadron." She smiled as a few women in the audience mock-fanned themselves. "Serena Kunst -- Miasma."

Preemptively Mia raised her scarf, checking to see if anyone was disgusted or disturbed: none were. Part of the respect Mia received was because of who she had murdered, but she was also generally liked around campus and was known as a good listener. Few would notice that in assigning contracts, she did not have Matoi's objectivity.

Serena had also lengthened her own spiked leather jacket to match Mia's look. As she walked down, she noticed a few people eyeing her positively, and she realized this was likely the first time she had noticed anyone finding her attractive without the commensurate worry they would find out she was transgender.

"Yuruko Ichibangase -- Genesis."

Yuruko was surprised and quickly got up, then walked down in her usual labcoat & scrubpants. Impervious as Yuruko usually was to the opinion of women, she often felt like others were laughing at her awkward appearance, mannerisms or way of walking; almost instinctually she blamed this on Mia.

Serena smiled and kissed Yuruko on the cheek as Mia re-called Samuel down.

"And these are your Royal Four." Mia's scarf burst in to purple flames.

"That's new." mumbled Serena and Mia laughed.

She gestured her squadron to stand behind her as she readjusted the microphone, and felt a little nervous. Despite her confidence, she still felt pieces of her opened identity were vulnerable. Fortunately she had written and memorized this.

"Kirihara Kishor is dead.

I hadn't expecting to need to address this, but I see a few of you seem afraid of me, so I believe it would be good to do so here. Last night, I had a very long and extended fight with a Revenant, which I managed to kill a bit before midnight. I was exhausted, yet I felt powerful. By achieving presidency, I had accomplished most of what I have wished to achieve with the first eighth of my life as a host.

During my teenage years, becoming Urasaria's president was a sort of fantasy for me. As some of you know, I was originally unable to host a Revenant, until... well, I won't get into that here. So, while I carried this fantasy with me as I grew up, before I entered Urasaria it had became an internal floe of ice that I rarely exposed to others. There it had floated in an immense ocean of other forgotten and recreated desires, fixeeing itself. I circled this creation warily, sometimes, as if that by sailing too near it I would make real its impossibility and frighten myself again. But, regardless of my denial, it would continue to lay within me.

So, at that moment, yesterday evening, I felt that I could latch my image of myself to such an ideal; that I might secure my confidence against it. Even as I've… er, perhaps overreacted a bit to this new confidence, at first.

Kirihara then ambushed me. She forced me away from the Revenant and scanned it before I could do so.

Before I continue, I feel it is necessary to give an overview of my beliefs about Kirihara. I have always felt that she was like some character in a sort of perverse play. So much of what I would deem wrong with her stemmed from this dissonance between herself and the rest of this species we all occupy. Philosophers and criminologists often ponder over what causes such a creature; and while some of you may balk at my calling her subhuman, implicitly -- well, I think she certainly deserved the title.

Yet what I realized that it was useless for me to attempt to trace back the pulsating web of life that had resulted in her. At a point, I felt that all my queries of 'why?' would eventually only be answerable by 'because': that simply the reason for the existence of some parts of her was that, necessarily, something had to exist there or I nor anyone else would question it. It isn't a satisfying answer, but it was one which her mentor had come to. We often like to believe that one thing must cause another thing, as if the cast of life into which we mold ourselves can be reduced to discrete linkages of events; yet to do so is a denial of free will, and, admittedly, I simply lack any other explanation of Kirihara.

It seemed to me that she was only guided by her own perverse, lacking any logic but a morality that morphed itself upon every encounter or memory renewed of her. She had no ability for extended thought or reflection, and she seems to despise both. When I looked at her, yes, she sometimes seemed to be possessed by an interior: but it was all surface. She was not a shell nor husk of a person: she had always been like this. And I believe that to say otherwise, or say that she may ever have been an intelligent student is... it simply isn't how humans are.

There were times where I would watch Kirihara on campus, mostly to avoid her, and see her vacant gaze taking all of the universe in yet grazing upon none of it. And perhaps at some level she was aware of how internally barren she was, for nothing seemed to wind her up further than when I, in our various confrontations over the years, would otherwise call her vacant or stupid. Her impulse and instinct were driven by animosity alone. She constantly rejected anything and anyone which might have made her a better person; she had crafted scenarios around herself with no regard for the consequences or how others would view her; delusional, blame and bile streamed out from her. That was all she was.

But, she had scanned the Revenant before I could do so. As she attempted to flee on Carve, I blasted her off from it and into a nearby building. There was a crunch of bones breaking, and I thought for a moment I might have smitten her by a single geyser of water. Soon, she staggered up. She was sullied, cowed. I am speaking metaphorically here, but her face seemed to merge into snippets of people and un-people who I have known in my life, hosts that I have killed, or men who have, in my past, disrespected and displayed insolence towards me. It was as if I, in that moment, was making her ubiquitous in my life and towing out hatreds that still thin my lips and cause my fingers to gnarle.

I attacked her. There was no fight from her; or rather none that could have any success against me. Perhaps she knew this, for her usual mode of existence soon asserted itself, unshackled from doubt and shame; she begged and cowered, crying in pain as she reached out to strike me. I continued to attack and lashed at her until she was dead. I disintegrated her body, and given the numerous issues with her mother which Kirihara often gave up, without any provocation, to others -- as if seeking to eject such things -- I doubt any of her relatives will appeal my judgment.

But, I had already planned to expel her: so I suppose I got a little ahead of myself.

As for how I plan to be as president, I hope that by telling you all this I haven't reduced your opinions of me. A-And, obviously, I wrote my own speech -- so now you all know what a nerd I a-am, as well. But given how you all reacted to that little joke, I'm sure you don't mind. Kirihara will no longer be able to threaten students or civilians anymore, and I plan to aggressively pursue expulsion for students who abuse their legal immunity to assault civilians. If you are someone who has done that, I would suggest dropping out before I find out. Students do not act like cops.

As for how I plan to handle staff in fighting for our interests, I'm sure some of you already saw how I did."

She smiled, then noticed no one in the audience seemed to know what she was talking about.

"…e-er. Regardless, I -- Matoi will look respectful by comparison. I consider all of them, excepting Hirogane, to be people who do nothing but demean students and denigrate us for doing a job they would not. Please don't hesitate to come to me, in my office, with any concerns or suggestions, as I'll be very glad to help. I haven't forgotten how I was treated by them in my first year. Thank you."

She smiled, waved, and went backstage.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that comment." laughed Matoi.

"Every president has to promise more than the last one."

Matoi smiled. "Still, I saw many students enjoyed it. I doubt you'll have any rivals as president."

Mia laughed. "I-I was mostly nervous about sounding too overwrought. I already knew that telling a gory story was going to endear me to everyone."

"And hey, you did it looking great, too!" said Marisa. "Must've had a really good tailor, huh?"

Mia smiled. Matoi congratulated her, then told her she would talk to her more after, as she went back out for her final speech. Mia told her squadron to go on up to her office, and she would meet them there after she spoke privately with Marisa.

"So, is that how it actually went?" said Marisa.

Mia nodded. "It was."

"Good. Kirihara was a total psycho and she deserved to die." Marisa looked back over her shoulder, towards the curtain that Matoi's voice was peeking under. "I know you're not used to hearing something like that from me, but, like, I was really getting sick of how Matoi was treating her."

"Why? Matoi treated her with as much respect as I did."

"But you went, like, full force on her, though. Matoi just tortured her the whole year. I'm not saying that like, excuses what Kirihara did, but all the times she'd just beat her up or whatever the fuck, that didn't help anybody. It just tuned her up by degrees. Yeah, maybe Matoi wants to pretend that's part of some strategy, but she just likes hurting people. Sometimes when I'd look into her eyes, it looked like a decapitated head staring up at me. And the eyes are where somebody *is*, you know? … So, maybe I don't totally dislike her, but it's how I felt looking at her a lot of times."

"Are you going to be alright working with her at Timepact, if you need to?"

"Hey, I managed this year. Aimee can split us up."

Marisa shrugged, and as they slipped into their usual rhythm, Mia thought of something Marisa had told her in her first year.

For years until Boudoir activated, Marisa had been seen as the inferior to her older sister Penelope, and was often berated via comparison for her grades compared to her. Penelope had taught her to shoplift when they were teenagers, and on the day they went out to this one department store, Penelope had told Marisa to separate while she stuffed a few goods in her jacket.

This was when Marisa's devious side emerged, for it was then she went to store security and ratted out her elder sister. Marisa continued as if nothing was wrong, as she watched as Penelope was not only forced to give the stolen merchandise back, but was humiliated right in front of her sister.

That Marisa now felt shame so deeply for such an act had told Mia something then; now she could extrude it out into her mental landscape.

Marisa was the most intensely empathetic, while Matoi the least. By mere compensation this meant Mia was the middle of the two women, for they were the two 2nd-years she had interacted most in her 1st-year, and still had continued as sources of advice through her 2nd & 3rd. The realization slightly disturbed Mia, for she felt a creature who was only conglomerated others; and again Ryumi, who had always been at quarrel with the rest of her imagine.

She went back up to her new office, where the three were already speaking with each other, and someone had brought up their boxes of letters.

"Damn, you just confessed it outright." said Serena and Mia nodded as she sat down.

"I didn't want there to be any rumors about it."

"Yeah, I don't think anybody cared." shrugged Yuruko.

Samuel nodded and looked to Mia. "You mind if I use a certain, rather sexist phrase about you murdering Kirihara?"

"Uh, you can call Kirihara a bitch, Samuel." said Yuruko.

"No, I was going to tell Mia: if you had any balls you would've scanned it."

The others burst out laughing.

"I-I couldn't have, I told you I disintegrated it." laughed Mia. "B-By the way, I-I have a blue Solar Beam now."

"Blue Kamehameha." chimed Serena, prodding Yuruko a little. Usually Yuruko was reticent around anyone but Serena; she felt a need to help integrate her girlfriend.

"Cool."

This obviously did not work; Yuruko cared little for social conventions or putting on an affectation; she felt no need to lead anyone on with who she was. While such an approach made her lonely, loneliness was something she found eminently manageable. Part of Yuruko's dislike of women, not yet fully explored, was that she hated those who felt the need to play these social games and hated even more those who looked down on those who didn't.

So as they opened their letters and read through the non-personal ones, Mia sat back and tried to draw backwards from it all, as if the thought of her murder of Kirihara could again become alive in that emptiness. She enjoyed it, for she knew there was no guilt to killing an evil thing, and wanted to replicate this enjoyment, which seemed the more pleasing the further from it she became. This is one of life's main compensations, how it levels our memories as we age, polishing the bright spots and sanding the rough edges off. Sometimes one even fills these crevices of memory with entire false events or similarly dubious gossip.

This was where Mia would be with Kirihara months after the murder. Kirihara seemed uglier, more misshapen and evil in Mia's mind, as if a putty that her memory's fingers could pull and play with. Yet she did not recognize that this image was askew, and as the murder took the position of almost a dead legend, both on campus and to Mia's recall, none could dispute her account of events. It was, however, the first time Mia could remember having produced terror in a host, and knew that it had been the right thing to cause.

[END OF ARC: ROYALTY]

[END OF URASARIA ACADEMY: YEAR THREE]