Next, Maori Niizono produced a scalpel. She used that to cut through the thin layer of skin on top of the head. The circulation had long since stopped, so no blood flowed out. Her hands moved with practiced ease, like peeling a peach. The muscles covering Mika Furutsuki’s head were intertwined with browned blood vessels. She ran the scalpel from the forehead to the back of the head, slicing through the muscle, then grabbed it with forceps, pulling it open to the side. From within the darkened, bloody muscle fibers, the white bone of her skull emerged. It was as pale as her skin had been when she was alive. Maori Niizono peeled away the flesh all the way to the temples. The ears were in the way, so she sliced them off.
Now the real work began. The skull was divided into a number of parts, and normal brain surgery would only cut along the boundaries of those parts. However, this time she needed to remove them all. Maori Niizono took the electric drill, opening holes in the membranous parts of the skull. The first was just above the forehead, where you head a soccer ball. Then she opened up holes in both temples and above the nape of the neck. Finally, she used the electric saw to cut a line connecting all four holes.
Gagagagagaga, gigigigigigigi. Maori Niizono had read literature on how to perform neurosurgery, so she knew what to do. But theoretical knowledge was different from actually doing it. The vibrations from the saw as it cut were extremely strong. Just holding it made sweat run down her brow, but she endured, holding the saw steady. Beneath this bone was the core of Mika Furutsuki, the precious mass of nerves that was her brain. It was the proof that she was herself, and the root of all her thoughts, feelings, and actions. Maori Niizono could not mess this up. As she was already completely insane, the fact that Mika Furutsuki was dead made no difference to her.
The cut around the skull progressed, exposing the pale pink brain inside.
“Mika-chan, Mika-chan!” Maori Niizono muttered, cutting further. “This is where you did your thinking? This is where you looked at me? This is where you were? Heh heh heh, how funny. Mika-chan, you never got to see your own brain. I’m the first!”
At last the cut went completely around the top of the skull. Half of Mika Furutsuki’s head was gone, the brain completely exposed. This had involved severing the facial muscles, which left her mouth hanging open. It was a slovenly expression she would never have made when she was alive. Maori Niizono was upset that her actions had caused such an expression, and she offered up a silent apology.
From this point on, it was easy. She just had to place Mika Furutsuki’s brain in a container of liquid nitrogen, preserving it, then wait for the technology that would allow her to be revived.
Squelch. Maori Niizono put her hands inside Mika Furutsuki’s head. Her middle and ring fingers slipped inside the edges of the skull, opening enough of a gap for her to force all four fingers in.
Splechhhhelch. Her fingers felt out the bottom of the brain. She felt the bud-like olfactory bulb and the criss-crossed optic nerves. And then she found hard bone — the end of the spinal cord. She made a diamond-shape with her ring and middle fingers of both hands, grabbing the bone.
Maori Niizono took a deep breath, poured all her strength into her arms, and pulled on the brain. Squeelllchhhhh! Slppp! Slthhhhppppp! The blood vessels tying the brain to the body snapped noisily while the eyeballs were dragged out with the brain, leaving Mika Furutsuki’s eye sockets literally empty.
Snapp! Scrunch! Squelchhh! Maori Niizono put even more force into it. The spinal cord trailed behind as she lifted out the brain, like pulling up a potato. A large number of blood vessels, large and small, came with the spinal cord. Paying them no heed, Maori Niizono held the brain steady with her chin and one hand and pulled the spinal cord free with the other, as calmly as you might pull up a fish on a fishing line. Her year of med school had served her well.
The rest of the spinal cord came out. Maori Niizono cradled the brain in both hands and plopped it into the metal container of liquid nitrogen she’d prepared ahead of time. Some of the liquid nitrogen splashed on her hands, causing frostbite that would take a week to heal, but she had other things on her mind. She shut the lid on the container, making sure it was airtight. Now everything was OK. Mika Furutsuki’s brain would freeze perfectly, and as long as she secured a place to store it, it would last several centuries. All she had to do now was invent the technology to revive her.
Funerals are sad occasions.
If the deceased had lived to be over a hundred, perhaps it wouldn’t be sad. But funerals for teenagers are sad.
Perhaps if the deceased was an old man leaving behind an immense fortune, some would find cause to celebrate, but the death of anyone penniless was nothing but a tragedy.
And when the deceased was a suicide, that was extra, super sad. The whole funeral hall was shrouded in gloom.
Mika Furutsuki met all three of the above conditions, so her funeral achieved maximum sadness.
Lots of people cried. Her parents, sister, idol activity friends from high school, and even co-workers from her part-time job were all in tears. She was no longer around to say, “No proble-mika!” with her usual groundless confidence. Mika Furutsuki had passed with her dream yet incomplete. Ever since she was a child she had dreamed of being the greatest idol in the universe, but that had not happened. Her life had been cut short by death, the worst fate the universe had to offer.
Everyone wailed, everyone clutched their heads, and yet only Maori Niizono sat there with a taut smile on her face. The other girls from the idol club thought she’d been driven mad with grief. They were right. She was happy she had been given a purpose. She was enjoying her newfound duty to bring Mika Furutsuki back to life. All this time, she’d been studying medicine simply because her parents demanded it. She had studied every day, shoving questions about why she was doing this to the back of her mind. But now she had a reason to study, a reason to become a doctor: She had to resurrect Mika Furutsuki.
The body showed no signs of what Maori Niizono had done to it; the embalmers had done their work well. She was a little too pretty. Given a body with no ears or brain, the embalmers had gotten a little carried away, and had strived for the ultimate corpse, one that lived up to their own ideals. They had ended up transforming her entirely. To anyone in their line of work the results were magnificent, a perfect example of world-class technique. But this was less welcome to the bereaved.
After the funeral, the emotions wrought by this fact erupted. Mika Furutsuki’s sister, Miya Furutsuki, grabbed Maori Niizono. She’d seen the dramatic changes to the body, and instinctively knew Maori Niizono had done something.
“You bitch! What did you do to Nee-sama?!”
She grabbed Maori Niizono’s funeral outfit roughly, with as much force and anger as she could muster, tears welling up in her eyes.
Yet while Miya Furutsuki cried, Maori Niizono gave a mocking laugh.
“Mika-chan? Mika-chan’s gonna be just fine. I’ll bring her back.”
In the face of Maori Niizono’s laughter, Miya Furutsuki lost control, and struck her. She was not athletic enough to do any damage to Maori Niizono. But the blow came as a complete surprise; Maori Niizono had no idea why she was being punched.
“I knew it! You violated my sister’s corpse! You freak! Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Miya Furutsuki was so devastated by the loss of her sister that she scarcely knew what she was saying. She just knew she hated the person in front of her more than anything.
Even as the blows rained down, Maori Niizono kept laughing. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll understand someday. Just you wait. You can see Mika-chan again.”
She patted Miya Furutsuki gently on the head, even as the attacks on her continued.
“Don’t touch me!”
Miya Furutsuki brushed her arm off like a foul thing and put some distance between them. A crowd was gathering, drawn by the commotion. Miya Furutsuki’s parents came over, too.
As she left, Miya Furutsuki hissed quietly enough so that only Maori Niizono could hear.
“I swear I’ll make you pay for this!”