1

For as long as she could remember, Damari Arisa had liked watching people. There was nothing more to it than that. She liked watching them talk, watching them think, watching them work hard, watching them laze around, watching them fret over their problems, or watching them enjoy the moment carefreely. She had no deeper motivation, and there was nothing she looked for in particular. It was perhaps that absence of bias, that pure, unblemished curiosity, that allowed her to truly understand people for who they were.

Most are too concerned with themselves to ever really pay attention to others. They only look at people when they seek something—be it material or emotional. It is this fundamental disinterest which leads to the fractures between people, the misunderstandings and the inability to coexist with one another. Unhindered by such desires, Damari could easily comprehend other people’s feelings, intuit their intentions, guess their secrets, or even predict their next moves.

When she absentmindedly advised her father on how to persuade an important business associate to accept a deal, she did so without really thinking about it. She had just happened to notice, and just happened to tell him about it. Of course, the hunger in her father’s eyes told her this would lead to him depending on her, but she didn’t particularly mind that, either. And so, idly, passively, she grew her dad’s already successful business into an empire, all the while conditioning him to always dance atop the palms of her hands.

Yet none of this was of any particular note to Damari. Had she some kind of goal she wanted to accomplish, she might have no doubt become a terrifying force as she bent everyone to her will, but the young woman had no such ambition. If there was anything resembling that inside of her, then it could be called a longing. Or, more accurately, a feeling of dissatisfaction, slowly but surely growing. While her fascination with people had remained unchanged, she had begun to tire of all the mundane individuals around her. For how profoundly different and unique people could be, the ones clustered around her tended to be the same sorts—egocentric men and women of status, overly concerned with their appearances, lacking any kind of notable drive besides just maintaining and growing their riches. Such superficial people wouldn’t satisfy Damari’s appetite for very long. She’d discovered an entertaining boy among the trite students at her school, but he alone wouldn’t be enough for her either. And so, soon enough, she found an avenue through which she could explore much, much more interesting specimens.

Criminology presented a clear window to the most extreme mindsets humanity has to offer. Often those that end up committing violent crimes are those lacking some kind of fundamental balance, unable to walk the path of common sense. Such people were always interesting for Damari to read about, and as she grew more and more tired of the mediocre masses around her, she only gravitated more and more towards these fascinating individuals. When she learned of the existence of the Crimes Circle, her joining was an inevitability.

And be it an old criminal case that she studied, or the current affair regarding the poisoned chocolates, Damari’s primary concern remained the same. If anything, the current arrangement was one that benefited her greatly. Whenever she researched a past crime, her one regret was that she had no way of directly interacting with the criminal, of being able to see into their hearts for herself. And so this present commotion was her perfect chance to finally be able to examine one such culprit with her own eyes.

Whichever way this case went next, and whatever its eventual conclusion might be, it was sure to be a fruitful time.

2

Moribe, vice-chairwoman of the Disciplinary Committee, walked briskly through the spacious halls of Tokiwa Academy, her steps heavy and purposeful. Though she was in a hurry, she made sure not to break into a jog, as that would violate school regulations.

“Not gonna stop to say hello, Moribe-senpai?”

As she rounded a corner, a voice stopped her in her tracks. She briefly debated with herself whether or not to respond to the irritating call, but ultimately turned her head and brusquely addressed the boy leaning against the wall.

“I don’t have time to chat with you, Shirahama-kun. I have something to attend to.”

“If you mean the matter with the vandalism in the second gymnasium storage room, I’ve already informed the committee chairman when he passed by here earlier that Horonobe from class 2-D was responsible. They should be wrapping that up right about now, I believe.”

“...” Moribe leveled a nonplussed stare at the smug-looking younger boy behind her, then ultimately heaved a sigh and fully turned around to face him. “If only you brought that kind of efficiency to the table for our chocolate conundrum too…”

“Ah, yes, that’s just what I wanted to ask about. Have you come to regret asking us for help at this point?” Shirahama asked, wearing a wide smile for some reason.

“I come to regret most of my interactions with you and your bunch. But I already knew that before I went to you.” Moribe rubbed her temple, as if nursing a headache. “What, are you already giving up? Isn’t that selling your friends who haven’t spoken yet a little short?”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort. Damari-kun especially is probably the brightest mind in our Circle. But I’m sure that must feel like cold comfort after all the failed deductions we’ve gone through.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll wait as long as it takes for this case to be concluded. I’ll see it through to the end.”

“Haha, dedicated as always. Do you really think justice will win out in the end?”

“It must. The weight of sin is impossible to bear forever. It might take a long time, but ultimately, something will have to give. And that’s when justice will be served.” Moribe closed her eyes and crossed her arms as she delivered that assertion.

“What’s that, karma? Surprisingly idealistic, coming from you. Ever since we met, I’ve only ever seen you go on about proof and law and all that,” Shirahama remarked, before suddenly making an uncertain face, holding his chin as he questioned, “Come to think of it, how did we first meet again?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Moribe replied tersely. “Even though you might have given up on solving this case, you should know that other people are still working tirelessly. For some of us, this isn’t just a game.” With that, the vice-chairwoman turned her back on the boy behind her and prepared to leave.

“That really upset you, huh. My apologies. I certainly don’t intend to demean your work.” Shirahama attempted to placate Moribe, though the smile never left his face.

However, before she could take off, a new voice ringing out from behind her stopped Moribe in her tracks.

“‘Working tirelessly’, huh. It looks to me like all you’re doing is waiting for something, though, Moribe-san.”

“...” Moribe turned her head back to look at the interloper, though she’d already recognized the voice.

“Hello there, president, Moribe-san.” It was Damari Arisa.

“Oh, if it isn’t Damari-kun. I surmise you’ll have a good showing for us today.”

“Nothing like what you’re hoping for. I won’t be the one to end this. I just have a few observations I’d like to share.” Damari said, before narrowing her eyes and adding, “Then again, that might actually be exactly what you’re hoping for, Moribe-san.”

“What did you mean by that?” Moribe asked, cutting in without regard for their exchange.

“Nothing more than what I said. It just seemed like the case. And if so, I figure we’re about the same in that regard.”

“...” After hesitating for a few moments, Moribe asked, “If that’s the case, then why not do something about it?”

“It’s not my place to do so. The most I’ll allow myself to do is just nudge things forward a bit.”

“I see…” The vice-chairwoman wore an inscrutable expression.

“Eh? What’s all this about? Is this what they call ‘girl talk’.” Shirahama asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yes, that’s exactly it, president. Don’t worry about it, just wait for the Circle meeting.” Damari said, clasping her hands and wearing a sweet smile.

“Hmm. I feel like I’m being kept out of the loop somehow, but very well.”

From a few feet away, Moribe watched the two Circle members have their energetic exchange. Whatever emotion she was feeling, her cold eyes and stony expression blocked off any possible avenue of ascertaining it. Eventually, she looked away, and murmured in a low voice, more for herself than anyone else, “Well, whatever the case, this will be over soon. For you two, at least.”

“Hmm? Yeah, I suppose two days from now, our experiment will be over, huh. With that, I guess the Crimes Circle’s involvement in this case will be over too. Thinking of it makes me feel a little melancholy.” Shirahama said.

“Hmph. Yeah.” Moribe said, a slight smile crossing her lips in unusual fashion, though it disappeared just as quickly. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. I have to go.” And with that, she turned her back on the two, nothing else stopping her this time.

“Well then, Damari-kun—Hm?” Shirahama called out to his fellow circle member, but as he turned to her, he saw an unusually pensive Damari, gazing in the direction of the girl who’d just left and appearing lost in thought. “Is something wrong?”

“...No, it’s nothing. See you at the Circle meeting. I’m sure it’ll be entertaining for you, if nothing else, president.” And with a note of condescension in her voice, Damari also left, walking in the opposite direction from where Moribe headed.

Left alone and with his back to the wall, Shirahama pondered something with a troubled expression for a while, before looking up and asking a question no one else could hear. “...Have I said something wrong, perhaps?”

3

“Thank you. I appreciate everyone gathering to hear me talk today.”

It was time for the Crimes Circle’s meeting, the fifth to discuss the mystery of the poisoned chocolates. As per the order established at the beginning of the week, it was now time for Damari Arisa to give out her deduction.

As ever, the mature-looking girl maintained an air of composure, and like a gambler at a poker table, she showed no openings, seemingly in perfect control of the situation as the others watched her expectantly.

“Came this far, might as well see this thing through to the end.” Araya gave a perfunctory remark.

“I know you can crack this case, Ari-san! Whoop their asses!”

“You know you’re a part of these ‘they’ too, right?” Gekihara cheerfully rooted for her friend while Sekimonji sighed next to her.

“Fufu, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not here to crack anything. All I want to do is put forth a few propositions regarding the true character of this incident. Whether they'll actually make any difference remains to be seen, I suppose.”

“Either way, your insight is appreciated, Damari-kun,” the president said. “Now then, shall we begin?” At Shirahama's indication, the spectators stopped chatting amongst themselves and turned their gazes back to Damari, paying close attention.

“Conflict is a scary, complicated thing, and to make their lives easier people love to simplify it however they can. Whenever a tragedy occurs, everyone is always quick to label people as victims and perpetrators. But a little time on this Earth is all you need to realize that true villains don't exist, and in that same way, true, pure victims are tough to come by.

“Sure, unforeseen accidents, unprecedented misfortunes, these things do happen. But conflict, that’s a matter of human wills, like a row of dominoes. And tragedy is just its natural result.

“All that is to say—what do you think you'd have to do, for someone to want to murder you? What do you think it'd take? Maybe hardly anything worth being blamed for—but certainly not nothing. Well, we're not talking about murder here, but the same logic applies.”

“Do all of ya really need these damn philosophical preambles just to get to the damn point?” Araya made his impatience clear.

“I can’t say, but it certainly wouldn't have hurt if you'd thought a little longer before getting to yours.” The delinquent couldn't help but scowl at the pointed remark, which only deepened Damari’s self-assured smile. “Well, okay. I’ll get to my first observation. First, though, just one question for everyone—why do you all believe in the victim’s innocence so much, anyway?”

Nobody could hide their confusion at Damari’s baffling question. They all sat in silence for a moment, sending confused glances each other’s way, until Sekimonji finally decided to put their uncertainty into words. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that question, but I don’t think any of us assumed Kaneya Yuuta to be entirely innocent. We’ve already discussed his misdeeds before.”

“Sure, but I’m talking about the victim, not about Kaneya.”

“...But he was the one to receive the chocolates—”

“And yet he suffered no damages. That being the case, I don’t see how you can call him a victim.” With no adequate reply to her statement, Sekimonji fell silent once more as Damari continued on. “Really, everyone’s been thinking about this case as if Kaneya and only Kaneya stands at its center, when in fact the victim is obviously Kiyozumi Juna. I don’t understand how nobody has challenged this presumption until now.

“That’s what I mean when I say you believe in the victim’s innocence too strongly. Or maybe ‘passivity’ is the better word? You don’t doubt the idea that her suffering was just the result of a cruel twist of fate. Is that the result of reading too much about indiscriminate serial killers, I wonder?” Damari delivered her piece with the unrivaled elegance and confidence she was known for, as though she could see through it all.

“So you’re saying that she was actually the target all along!?” Gekihara shrieked in shock.

“Ordinary people like you and me might not understand it, but athletes won’t allow themselves to eat whatever they please at any given moment. Someone with the determination to perfectly control their diet in order to achieve the best possible physical performance won’t just turn around and snack on a random unexpected gift. Especially not right before a match, and especially not someone like Kaneya, who gets all his confidence from his athletic abilities. It doesn’t take a genius to arrive at that conclusion; nobody actually planning to sabotage him would ever choose a method like this. Yet because that’s what appeared to have happened, I suppose all of you just took it at face value.” Though Damari’s smile was unfaltering, a clear note of irritation carried through her words, as though asserting that someone else should have figured it out already.

“Okay, but if the target was that chick all along, then how the hell did they predict that Kaneya would give it to her boyfriend, and that it’d then end up in her hands?” Araya asked.

“Manipulating people like that requires a certain level of delicacy, so I understand why you’d find it incomprehensible. But as long as you pay attention to people’s habits, it’s really not that difficult.

“For example, noticing that both Kaneya and Fukusen tend to wake up early and go straight to the lobby at around the same time, or that Fukusen is the only person nice enough to actively strike up a conversation with Kaneya within the dorm, or that Fukusen would be thoughtful enough to stop him if he tried throwing them away.”

“But isn’t that still leaving a lot up to chance though?”

“It is. Dealing with people is always a gamble. This one just happened to be successful,” Damari replied without hesitation. “And in the event of the plan failing, there wouldn’t be any risk to the culprit. Those are pretty good conditions. For all we know, they might have hatched multiple such schemes simultaneously, knowing that any number of them could fail.”

With no reasonable way to refute Damari’s explanation, Araya reluctantly backed off. Satisfied, she continued her speech.

“Our culprit is subtle, very attentive and, most importantly, highly determined. They would never execute a plan this complex otherwise. And no wonder why—after all, their opponent is someone who threatens to take away their very place at this academy.” Damari’s smile widened as she reached her most important point. “Yes, regarding my previous question, it seems Kiyozumi Juna has done quite enough to make someone want her out of the picture. Things like consistently advocating for the removal of any ‘commoners’ from Tokiwa Academy. Of course, with an innocent, benevolent smile on her face, and with the full approval of most of the academy’s affluent students. In fact, that’s what she was about to do on the very day she received those chocolates, and in front of the academy’s board of directors no less.”

The room fell into a stunned silence once more as everyone considered Damari’s proposition. Damari herself, however, made no effort to break this silence as she stared intently at her audience with an expectant gaze.

Eventually, the president himself, Shirahama Ryoukai, stepped forward and asked the all-important question.

“So then, Damari-kun, who do you say is the culprit behind this case?”

Upon hearing his question, Damari closed her eyes, and, her lips twisting once more into a self-deprecating smile, she lightly shrugged before saying, “Who knows? Maybe it’s Kaneya Yuuta himself, don’t you think? It would certainly make a lot of the plan’s details fit better.”

4

“Good job, Ari-san! You killed it!”

With the day’s deduction all wrapped up, the Crimes Circle’s room was filled with chatter. Gekihara excitedly congratulated Damari on her speech, way prouder of her friend’s performance than she’d been of her own.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything all that impressive.” Damari humbly dismissed the words of praise with a mature smile. “Ah, right, before I forget.”

The lady of the hour went to grab her back, and produced a box from within. It was finally time for the usual offering: this time, an ornate box of white chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. “Here, everyone can take some.”

“Aw, sweet!” Gekihara exclaimed as she took a big mouthful of chocolate.

“Thank you for your consideration, Damari-kun,” the president said.

Damari didn’t return to her usual seat on the couch, instead watching from the sidelines as everyone in the room talked amongst themselves while enjoying their chocolates, her expression inscrutable. After a while, Shirahama walked up next to her.

“Really, I can never outdo you. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I ended up speaking before you. I have no idea how I’d possibly top that.”

“You give yourself too little credit, president. I’m sure you could come up with something suitable.”

“Haha, that stings, you know? Although…” Shirahama hesitated for a moment. “I’m not sure what to think about naming Kaneya as the culprit. Something doesn’t feel right about that.”

“Well, you can always use your own brain to figure out a better candidate. And either way, I told you beforehand that I wouldn’t be the one to end this case, didn’t I?”

“That you did. But why would I use my own brain when there’s still some brains left to pick. Such as Kanshou-kun over there!”

Kanshou Kisuke, who’d been awkwardly standing to the side of the rest of the members’ conversation, snapped to attention upon hearing his name, and after staring blankly at him for a few seconds, reluctantly sidled up to Shirahama.

“Hello there, Damari-senpai, Shirahama-senpai…”

“Kanshou-kun,” Damari said. “You still haven’t had any chocolate, have you? You should take some while it’s still there.”

“Ah… Thank you, but I’ll refrain. I’ve gotten a bit sick of chocolate…” Kanshou scratched his cheek apologetically as he meekly refused the offer.

“So, what do you think, Kanshou-kun? Do you feel like you’ve got what it takes to upstage Damari-kun?” Shirahama said with a sly grin.

“Oh, t-that’s definitely impossible!” Kanshou stammered out a quick denial.

“Will you ever grow up, I wonder.” Damari shot Shirahama a glare before turning a gentle smile to Kanshou. “You don’t need to ‘upstage’ me or anything. All you need is to bring some new information to light. I’m sure there’s plenty of holes in my deduction.”

“Well, I’m not too confident I can come up with anything… But who knows, maybe a miracle will happen?” Kanshou said casually, though his tone was resigned.

“Fufu, I don’t think you need a miracle. You just have to trust in yourself a little more. I happen to be rooting for you, you know?” Damari replied.

Kanshou looked up at the older girl, his eyes wide open. “Why’s that?”

After pausing to choose her words for a moment, Damari answered with a wink. “Having the last speaker overturn the entire case would be the most dramatic outcome, right?”

Floored by that answer, Shirahama’s usual smile had been wiped off his face. “...I don’t suppose Gekihara-kun’s been rubbing off on you, has she?”

As he watched his two seniors continue to quip lightheartedly from a slight distance, Kanshou contemplated Damari’s words.

“...The last, huh?” The boy smiled wryly to himself, a slight expression that no one else would catch.

5

I woke up in my room. Heeding an instinct that had been carved by time into my bones, I shed my drowsiness like a snakeskin as I turned my head to look at the alarm clock. It read 6:02 AM. Monday.

The Poisoned Chocolates Case was not yet over.