She could feel it. For the first time Kyoko understood Yukio’s words about a stench of fear. And something was about to burst as well.

At the time being everything lay hidden beneath a blanket of forced anticipation, and for a lot of the students there was nothing forced about it at all.

Later this morning the cultural festival would open for relatives, which was the second occasion for Kareyoshi to celebrate. The first happened yesterday when the Korean, because she turned out to be Korean, rape victim dropped out of school.

Jeniferu, however, refused to become a third.

Kyoko couldn’t understand where Jeniferu got her strength from. Whenever asked she candidly responded that she had indeed been raped and that she hoped all eight boys and whoever lay behind it died horrible deaths. Unsurprisingly Jeniferu got called to the principal’s office on a daily basis, but for whatever reason she never broke down.

Right now she sat beside Kyoko scrubbing toilets. It felt just as demeaning as it was supposed to be, but Kyoko grit her teeth and kept scrubbing. The silence, however, was more than she could bear.

“Do you hate Japan?” she asked, not certain where the words had come from.

The silence was only broken by the sound of brush against porcelain, and Kyoko had just about given up the thought of a conversation when Jeniferu suddenly spoke.

“I hate what happened to me, but why should I hate this nation?”

“But… you know… the toilets...” The words felt clumsy and Kyoko let them peter off.

A giggle made her look up.

“The toilets are fine.”

“Huh?”

“In fact if it had been back home I probably would have refused.”

Kyoko shook her head and changed water in her bucket. “Why?”

Jeniferu laughed. “Everything is clean here. We’re scrubbing toilets that are already clean. I don’t even want to tell you what they would look like where I come from.”

So maybe it was true after all. Both Kuri-chan and Urufu were adamant things were cleaner here compared to Sweden. Maybe people in Japan were clean freaks.

“Does it bother you? That we’re overly neat I mean?”

“Are you stupid?”

Kyoko stared at Jeniferu. “No. I don’t think I’m stupid,” she said.

Jeniferu grimaced, and in her eyes Kyoko read an honest attempt at finding the right words. “I like clean. I like how Japan is clean. When I’m here I can see how people just don’t care back home.” A long sigh told Kyoko there was more to come. “It doesn’t mean I like everything with Japan,” Jeniferu continued. “It’s clean because people here care, but it’s also clean because no one dares.”

“Dares what?” Kyoko wondered. These were words strangely echoing of Urufu’s thoughts, and Kyoko desperately wanted to hear them voiced in a different way.

“People are selfish in groups here,” Jeniferu began. “So they lie in groups, but I prefer when people are selfish for themselves and lie alone.” She met Kyoko’s eyes. “I am myself. I’m responsible for myself. I don’t want to hide behind friends, or a school class, or a family. I want my strength to be my own; not something I borrow.”

It wasn’t what Urufu, or even Kuri-chan would have said, but it was very close. It was as if the similarities between Sweden and the USA were greater than the differences.

They switched toilets and finished the last ones in silence just in time for the festival to open.

Kyoko tagged along after Jeniferu to dispose of the buckets, and after that it was time to meet up with Noriko and a Chinese girl to start carrying out garbage. They weren’t really allowed to, but Noriko didn’t feel safe working outdoors in pairs after what had happened, so Kyoko decided it was worth a later scolding as long as Noriko felt better.

The incinerator lay behind the gym as well, and Kyoko shot Jeniferu a worried glance as they left the school building through a side entrance. The girl might not have said anything, but what did she think about going near that place? Would she even go there at all?

Gravel bit into Kyoko’s soles and a gust of wind tore through her cardigan. For a moment Kyoko regretted she had left her blazer in their classroom, but now it was too late.

Halfway to the gym they met the other pair, and Kyoko’s stomach churned at the instant relief in Noriko’s eyes. It wasn’t right. No one should feel that kind of fear going to school. At a loss for words she looked at Jeniferu to see how she felt.

“You know,” Jeniferu said as if she had read Kyoko’s intentions, “of course I don’t like going there, but we have a job to do so let’s get I over with.”

By Kyoko’s other side Noriko stiffened, and Kyoko wondered about her reaction. Ever since the two girls were assaulted Noriko had shrunk and started looking over her shoulder with something haunted in her eyes. From what Yukio had said, and from rumours about Red Rose Hell Kyoko put together a jigsaw puzzle she didn’t want to watch.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

From the attack on Kuri-chan, through Yukio’s frightened words at the festival a year earlier to what had just happened. Kyoko always thought it began with Kuri-chan, but of course Yukio’s words pointed at a time before that, and the look in Noriko’s eyes just added to it. One way or another Red Rose Hell had survived. If not as a school then by seeping its ideals into Himekaizen, and behind that rot; Kareyoshi.

And with that Kyoko finally understood, and her legs buckled under her, and the stench of fear was the stench of something rotting in the school she had loved going to just half a year earlier.

***

With a grin Christina walked slowly through the festival streets. Very slowly. For once the goons from Vogue had no problems following her, and adding her own body guard to the duo she became exceedingly visible, which was exactly what she wanted.

Today was Sunday, and the cultural festival was open to the public, which included people from the media who were after any kind of scoop involving her stardom in the world of modelling. She planned to give them far more than they could dream of, and for this the presence of her obscenely visible body guards were vital.

A small part of her felt sorry for dragging Ko-chan and Yukio into her dirty game, but the addition of another two guards, armed with handguns to boot, ought to guarantee a devastating blow to Kareyoshi’s career.

Maybe he wasn’t directly responsible for what happened to the girls, but he was involved in a way that placed the blame firmly on his shoulders. He was, Christina decided for herself, easily one of the most disgusting persons she had ever met in both her lives. And that was a big deal, because that meant he was even worse than she had been herself in her early forties.

A transition and restart. More like redemption. Memories of her old life were far from rosy. Shards, I lived shards of a real life. A smile spread on her face, probably tinged with more than a little sadness if she had to guess, but she didn’t care. Her real feelings lined up perfectly with her plans for once.

This year she had no problems strolling around. This was nothing like the insane circus from a year ago. This year there was none of the insane chaos she remembered, but also gone were the grins and surprised shouts of glee when yet another small disaster was averted.

Polite students served Japanese food to polite customers. Silence and subdued words filled the air, and wherever she looked the student body of Himekaizen filled stalls and exhibitions while trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Maybe there was culture, but festival had nothing to do with what she passed through.

Not that it mattered. She wouldn’t have been out here if she’d done as told and participated in the cultural festival. None of the students who weren’t pure blood Japanese were allowed to come in contact with guests.

Back in Sweden Kareyoshi would long since have been removed from office and facing a trial, but this wasn’t Sweden, and for that reason Christina was adamant he’d end up facing that trial anyway. On the surface the laws were similar. If Kareyoshi’s ham-handed rules surfaced and brought disgrace to the school there was a possibility the application of those laws saw the light of surface as well.

And then there was that other bomb.

Christina pushed her way through, or rather her body guards did.

Thomas wanted to talk with her, and so did Jennifer. The main reason for that talk was between Thomas and Jennifer, and there was absolutely nothing Christina had to offer. Jennifer might look strong and unconcerned, but it had to be a show.

Christina sighed and followed her body guards through angry outbursts. Then she saw Yukio and Kyoko with their armed protection. From then on any show of irritation from other guests simply vanished.

“Why aren’t you working with the festival?” Christina asked loud enough for anyone to hear.

“I don’t dare,” Yukio answered according to a rehearsed script. “This time Principal Kareyoshi sent eight boys to rape the girls.”

Which was an absurd accusation, and absurd was good. Kareyoshi lacked the brains to escalate his dirt when it proved insufficient, so someone else was involved this time. But Kareyoshi also lacked the brains to cover up his tracks, so if he got flushed out Christina was certain he’d drag his associates into the open as well.

Around them people listened and gasped, and five body guards protecting three high school students made anything they said seem plausible. So Christina vented one horrible accusation after another for anyone within listening distance, and those always included members of the press.

Another four to meet. Three ahead of them and one following a bit behind her. Kareyoshi wouldn’t recognise a scripted event if you shoved it into his face, but Christina wasn’t so certain about those who supported him, so she hid her ace up her sleeve.

Just inside the main entrance Thomas and Jennifer stood waiting despite being ordered to stay out of sight, and Kareyoshi had swallowed that bait beautifully.

Just as Christina entered she heard him yell something about insubordination, and she grinned when he refused to disappoint her. In her wake a few journalists managed to make it indoors just as Kareyoshi roared something incoherent about why unclean blood should be invisible when decent people were around.

“So it’s not enough to have them raped. You need them invisible as well?” she asked with a voice she knew would cut through pandemonium.

Kareyoshi turned and faced her. “She’s unclean. No one needed to rape her. She just flaunted her foreign ways just like that Korean.”

A shadow behind her told Christina the fourth person to join the meeting had just arrived. “Are you telling me that all Koreans and other foreign women are sluts who’d sleep with anyone anywhere and anytime?”

Kareyoshi stared at her. Then he growled. “A foreign whore like you wouldn’t understand, but yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

The shadow grew closer, and then the darkness turned into a tall man in his fifties. Christina backed away to make room for him.

“Dad?”

I’m sorry for using you like this. Christina stared at Jennifer’s expression of fear and hope.

“Did you just say that my daughter and a Korean girl egged eight boys on to have sex with them?”

“Another foreigner. What are you doing at my school?”

The man met Kareyoshi’s stare. “My daughter attends this school. She was raped here. As a father I believe it is my business.”

“Who would care about what another foreigner believes.”

“In my case, quite a few I believe.”

The two men stared at each other, and Christina waited for Kareyoshi’s final blunder.

“And why would anyone listen to you?” he said and walked right into the trap.

The man grinned. An entirely predatory grin and nothing at all like Ulf’s wolfish one that still made Christina’s heart lurch. “Why? I wonder. Maybe because you just turned this into an international incident.”

“What? Who are you?”

“My name is Nathan Cooper. I’m the US ambassador to South Korea.”