1

The Crimes Circle’s room was buzzing with chatter as everyone readied themselves for the final turn of this week of deduction. The atmosphere in the room never felt too heavy, but if one were to look into the eyes of anyone present, they’d surely sense the burning anticipation beneath their casual facade. Moments like these were surely what the members of the illustrious Circle lived for.

“Still, it’s a real shame that Moribe-senpai can’t be here today for the final time,” exhaled Shirahama.

“Seriously, it’s the grand finale! What sudden urgent business could be more important than this!?” Gekihara yelled out, prompting Sekimonji to remark, “I can think of a lot.”

“It ain’t like I’m gonna miss that stuck up lady or nothin’, but I guess I did get used to her bein’ here all the time,” Araya said.

“Alas, such is life. But don’t let that stop you, Kanshou-kun. I’ll relay everything to her later, so please, tell us your deduction without any reservations,” urged Shirahama.

“Of course.” Nodding resolutely, Kanshou stood up from his seat and walked up to the head of the table. Though he tried to seem sure of himself, it was clear from the stiffness of his movements that he was nervous. Still, as he balled his hands into fists and looked over his audience, he truly seemed like he would be the one to finally put an end to this case.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the president gently urged. Damari watched the younger boy with careful eyes, careful not to miss any of the subtleties in his expression, and even Sekimonji abandoned his usual mask of indifference, watching his junior carefully.

“...Okay. Let’s begin.” After taking a deep breath, Kanshou resolutely declared, “It’s time for the final turn.”

2

“Well done! Kanshou-kun, you’ve outdone yourself,” the president praised, standing up from his seat and bringing his hands closer for an applause. His gesture was what broke the stunned silence in the room as everyone’s faces of wide-eyed surprise turned to those of admiration.

Kanshou, having just finished his deduction, remained standing somewhat stiffly in front of everyone, as if he wasn’t sure where he should go. His face blushed faintly at the praise, and he unsuccessfully tried to stifle a crooked smile.

“But wow, I guess that really seals the deal, huh?” Gekihara asked.

“I’d say so. There’s really no doubt about it left, is there?” Damari added.

“Yeah, hate to admit it, but he’s got it in one. You really showed us up, huh, you little twerp,” Araya said.

“Good work, Kisuke.” Sekimonji’s curt words of congratulation were alone among a burst of excited conversation. The other members breathlessly discussed the theory their underclassman had just spun, a theory they all clearly believed in.

“Hehe, I’m nowhere near as smart as all of you, but I just did my best to piece together everything I could from everyone’s stories. If I hadn’t been the last one to go, I probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything. So, um, it’s all thanks to you, really.” Saying that, Kanshou bowed deeply to everyone.

“Hah, ‘preciate the humility at least, kid. It’s important to know your place,” Araya said, nothing to himself with a satisfied grin.

“You don’t need to be quite so humble, though, Kanshou-kun,” Damari said. “If you can put together a deduction like that, I’m fairly certain you’re smarter than some of us already. Definitely smarter than Araya-kun, at least.”

“...Kanshou, look at this chick. She’s the definition of what they call a twisted personality. Make sure ya don’t wind up like her, alright?”

Electing not to comment on their exchange one way or the other, Kanshou just laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. Then, remembering something important, he said “Oh right,” and, lifting up his bag and taking something out of it, he continued, “I actually brought something for everyone. It’s just a little gift to celebrate the end of the case.”

The rectangular box contained what else but liqueur chocolates—the very same type as what had started this case to begin with.

“Heh, how on the nose. That’s the kinda tastelessness I’d expect from the prez, not you.”

“Why, that’s just terribly rude of you, Araya-kun,” Shirahama said, throwing his arms up in an exaggerated manner.

“Hey, don’t mind if I do!” Gekihara immediately jumped at the chocolate box, with Damari and Sekimonji wordlessly following suit and calmly taking pieces for themselves.

With everyone now gathered around the table, throwing good-natured jabs at each other and enjoying snacks, the atmosphere of the room became much farther from that of a group of investigators trying to find the truth of a case and much closer to that of an average after school club.

As everyone enjoyed themselves in their typical fashion, Kanshou looked down at his trembling hands for a few moments, and, after summoning his courage, called out. “Hey, everyone, um, may I have a few words?”

“Oh? Certainly you may, but what is it? You rarely speak up like that, Kanshou-kun,” the president said.

“No, it’s nothing big, it’s just… It’s always been kinda tough for me to keep up with everyone in the club, and sometimes it feels like I don’t belong, but… I just want you to know that I really appreciate being here and you letting me join!” With a wavering voice that finally boomed in certainty only at the end, Kanshou delivered his simple yet heartfelt words of gratitude with a deep bow.

For a few moments, everyone stared in surprise at him. But then, what finally broke the silence was Araya's rough tone. “Man, you were really worryin’ about it that much? You don’t waste words, but ya sure waste your time, not to mention brain cells.” He seemed fed-up as he grumbled all that out, before directing an intense stare at the younger boy and saying directly. “You’re one of us. Nothin’ more or less to it than that. So no use botherin’ to doubt that.”

“Fufufu, you can say some good things sometimes too, huh, Araya-kun,” Damari said, her voice gleeful. “He's right, you know. I couldn't imagine this circle being what it is without you around, Kanshou-kun.”

“Kisuke, the best book is not the one with the highest word count, but the one with the words that matter most,” Sekimonji stoically added. “And today you've clearly proven that you’re akin to the latter.”

“Yeah, whatever he said! It's great having you,” Gekihara said with a wide smile.

“Guys…” Evidently touched, Kanshou could say nothing more.

“I think you’ve gotten your answer by now,” Shirahama concluded. “You’re one of the exalted few who deserve to call themselves members of the Crimes Circle. Of that, there was never any doubt.”

“I mean, honestly, look at what a twisted douche our president is, Kanshou-kun. Having a sensible guy like you here is a lifesaver!”

“Et tu, Gekihara-kun!? Must all my friends hurt me today!?” Everyone broke into laughter at Shirahama's theatrical reaction.

It was just another day in the Crimes Circle’s room, a day like no other. Just as the previous day was one of simple, straightforward fun, the next one would surely be the same. As he watched everyone's faces twist and distort in laughter and mirth, Kanshou felt certain of that fact, and he was happier than ever.

The Crimes Circle would never end. Though one case might reach its conclusion, another would surely find them, and the days of fun would continue all the same.

3

Moribe walked through the halls of Tokiwa Academy, illuminated by the warm light of dusk, headed for a room she’d become closely acquainted with at this point. She knew her official business had prevented her from seeing the entirety of the day’s deduction, but she still hoped she might catch at least the tail end of the proceedings.

Her heavy footsteps echoing across the empty corridors, she soon reached her destination, the large hardwood doors in front of her being the one layer separating her from her target. With no wasted movements, she grabbed the doorknob and twisted it without hesitation.

And in the center of that room filled with bookshelves she saw—

“—”

Sitting on the low table in the room’s center, I languidly directed my gaze towards the new sound that filled the otherwise perfectly still chamber. At the other end of it was—the 3rd year girl from the Disciplinary Committee, Moribe-senpai.

At first she looked stupefied by the scene. Not that I could blame her. She slowly edged closer and closer, her legs trembling, and as she did her expression gradually gained the flavor of absolute terror.

I didn’t feel like calling out to her, and for the moment she didn’t seem capable of saying anything either, so for a while, we just stared at one another in complete silence.

Eventually, I don't know if her rational mind finally kicked into gear or something, but she hesitantly called out to me as she slowly raised a trembling hand to point with.

“K-Kanshou-kun, w-what’s that?”

At her urging, I directed my lazy body to turn its gaze to its sides, allowing me to look at the things all over the room.

Twisted, ugly faces of torment. Their eyes, bloodshot and seeming as if about to burst out of their sockets, lacked any focus. Direction without intention. Almost all had their mouths wide open, some with their tongues out too, swaying in the wind like they're trying to lap up all the oxygen they can. I hadn’t tried touching them, but I wondered for a moment if they’d be cold to the touch.

“They’re my fellow members of the Crimes Circle, of course,” I said.

“W-what happened? What have you done!?” Forcefully steadying her own quaking voice, she yelled out that question.

“...Most of the time, it was Shirahama-senpai who brought them,” I began.

“What?”

“The chocolates. One person or another always brought them. And once someone did, no one else would. They wouldn’t want to be seen as stealing someone else’s ideas, I suppose. Most of the time, it was Shirahama-senpai—I guess it makes the most sense for him to do it, given his position.”

“...” Unable to understand what I was talking about, it seemed that Moribe-senpai couldn’t find the words to interject.

“The second most common one to do it was Gekihara-senpai. I guess she saw it as a pretty dramatic prop. I’d say it was her who brought them about a third of the time.

“Conversely, Araya-senpai and Sekimonji-sensei almost never did it. I don’t know what kind of royal flush of a good mood it takes to make a guy like Araya-senpai feel generous, but given enough attempts, even that’s possible, I suppose. Same idea with Sekimonji-sensei.

“And when neither Shirahama-senpai nor Gekihara-senpai did it, Damari-senpai always took it upon herself instead, whenever that rare circumstance came about. Meaning that I never got the chance to be the one to bring the chocolates before—not until today, that is. This is the very first time I get to be the one to treat all the others in the Circle. I can only hope they enjoyed it.”

“...I don’t understand.” Moribe-senpai quietly listened to me, her face angled down such that I couldn’t see her eyes. After I was done, that’s what she had to say, her clenched hands trembling. “I don’t understand, but—you’re not the same Kanshou-kun that you were a week ago, are you?”

“Heh.” I couldn’t suppress a chuckle at her question. “I suppose it must seem like only a week has passed, to you.”

I leaned back, supporting my upper body with my arms on the table. Turning my head up, I looked at the ceiling. For the first time in quite a while, I felt somewhat free. I drew in a deep breath. Ah, what the hell, I guess I could try my hand at explaining it to someone again. It was something I hadn’t done in a long while, and if memory served me right, I’d never tried to tell Moribe-senpai. Her reaction might feel somewhat fresh.

Lowering my head to face her once more, I bluntly stated the truth that I alone knew. “This week is repeating. It has repeated an unfathomable amount of times by now. As far as I know, I’m the only one who keeps my memories across the loops. That’s why to you, it might seem like there’s nothing amiss. But come tomorrow, you’ll have forgotten everything and returned to the beginning.”

Moribe-senpai looked flabbergasted at my explanation. “Heheh, you don’t buy it, do you? I wouldn’t blame you. That’s what most people I’ve tried telling this to think.

“Some people believed me, too. Not that it did any good, ultimately. So I won’t hold it against you if you just think I’m crazy.”

“...Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why is this happening?”

“Beats me. Beats me, but… Well, there’s only one thing that seems like it could fix this.”

“Well, what’s that—!?”

“This case.” She was at a loss for words at my brief answer. “Well? Can’t think of what else it could be. After all—each and every single time, everyone always brings a different theory.”

That’s right. With every loop, certain things change. Not just who happens to bring the chocolate, but also what deductions they present. Each and every time, it’s always the same variables, and yet they manage to connect them in vastly different ways. Sometimes they’re brilliant, other times they’re idiotic, but whatever the case, they’re unmistakably ideas which only they could’ve come up with.

“I don’t know if this is the one case God wants solved above all else or what, but either way, I must have heard every possible deduction by this point. From a freak manufacturing accident to a yakuza scheme to evidence of alien life on Earth, I’ve heard it all. And yet, they’ve all been rejected. I guess the only way out of this hell must be to solve the case myself,” I said with a self-deprecating grin as I looked away.

“W-well then, just sit down and solve it!” Moribe-senpai said, a trace of frustration in her shaking voice.

“What, you think I haven’t tried!?” I couldn’t help but snap at her. “I’ve spun countless theories! I had all the time in the world to think about it, after all! I’m sure at this point that I could give you a more convincing answer to this puzzle than anyone in the world. But no matter what I do, God, the universe or whatever else is behind this won’t accept it!” My anger having slowly melted into self-hatred, I ended my speech with a misshapen grin. “I’m sure this seems like a trivial incident to anyone else, but to me, it’s the biggest mystery in the whole wide world.”

“...” Apparently having nothing to say to that, Moribe-senpai looked away with an expression of consternation.

“...For the first few dozens of loops, I earnestly tried to solve the case. I gave it my all—there was nothing I thought about more than this. But eventually, I realized that would lead me nowhere. I guess I’m just not the kind of great detective this world is looking for.

“So then I got into a rebellious phase, if you wanna call it that. I tried to break out of this situation however I could. I talked to everyone I know. Some even believed me. I tried leaving this city, but that doesn’t seem possible. I’d always wind up back here again, some way or another.

“I tried dismantling the club. I even set this room on fire. But that didn’t really accomplish anything, in the end. A week later, everything would always be back to the way it always was.

“So then I got depressed for a while. I didn’t really feel like doing anything. I just went through the motions for a few hundred loops. But eventually, I noticed the chocolates. It wasn’t a determined fact, who would give them out. It was probabilistic. Which meant that there was a small chance that task would fall to me.

“People can’t live without hope for the future, you know? That tiny chance became my hope. Every week I would look forward to the possibility of it falling to me. And none of the disappointments were all that crushing, because I always knew that the following week might be my lucky chance.

“I’m not sure when it was—that I started putting poison in the chocolates.”

As if a weight had just been lifted from me, I let myself fall back on the low table behind me. The edge of the box of chocolates still haphazardly left on the table stabbed into me, but I didn’t mind. My arms spread to the sides, I spoke blissfully. “And today, finally, the time has come.”

“...Did you really hate them that much? Your fellow Circle members.” Moribe-senpai asked sadly.

My expression of rapture frozen in its tracks, I eventually sighed and, slightly lifting up my upper body and supporting it with my elbows, I addressed the girl. “I wish you wouldn’t misunderstand, Moribe-senpai. For one, it might be taking a while to kick in, but I’m just as poisoned as the rest of them. I won’t be bothering you for long. But more importantly, I feel nothing but awe and respect for my seniors.

“Listen. I’m just a nobody. Even if I was stuck here forever, it wouldn’t be much of a loss to the world. But everyone else in the club, they’re different. They’re all brilliant in their own right. I’m sure they’d be able to achieve some wonderful things in the future.

“That’s why it’s so painful—the fact that those futures will never be. They’ll just waste away in this pointless loop without ever even knowing it. I can’t bear to watch it. At the very least, they deserve a proper end. And that’s what I’ve given them.”

“So it’s just for your own self-satisfaction…” Moribe-senpai muttered through gritted teeth. “Do you really think this means anything!? If everything you just said is true, won’t they all just come back to life by tomorrow? What’ll you do then!?”

“...You really know how to rain on a guy’s parade, lady.” I couldn’t contain a sigh. “I wish you’d at least let me enjoy this achievement for a day, but… You’re probably right, yeah. This is my first time killing anyone, but I’m sure they’ll come right back to life. I guess I should hope I’m not so lucky. Maybe I’ll be gone for good, replaced by some ignorant version of me.”

“You’re a fool, you know that. Even if you die, I’m sure you’ll just wake right back up the next week!” Moribe-senpai was shouting at me for some reason now. It was getting kind of annoying dealing with her.

“Oh yeah? Well, guess I’ll just give up on life after that, then,” I said dismissively, lying back down with my back on the table. “Now, if we’re done here, could you leave me alone? I feel like I haven’t slept in ages, so I’d like a good rest.” Closing my eyes, I elected to ignore whatever further comments she might’ve had. She’d probably call the police soon enough, but well, I’d be dead in a couple minutes max, so it didn’t make a difference to me. The poison was late to kick in for whatever reason, but I was sure I’d taken a comfortably fatal dose. Whatever righteous justice she may have wanted to inflict onto me, it was far too late by this point.

Resolved to rest while I still could, I took my mind off the situation. I used to be a pretty nervous sort in the past, if memory serves me right. But in this infinitely repeating week, where nothing is of consequence, it didn’t take long for me to learn just what a waste of energy it was to be so caught up in everything. I was confident I could happily snooze away, even while trapped in a tiger’s den.

Still, for some reason, no matter how long I waited, my consciousness refused to melt away. What a pain in the ass. Sick of just lying around, I finally opened my eyes again, belatedly noticing that Moribe-senpai was still there in the room, muttering something under her breath. “Hn?” Moved by idle curiosity, I tried leaning in to better hear what she was saying. And in that moment, I witnessed a drastic change in her.

Moribe-senpai harshly gritted her teeth, her helpless fear giving way to anger. And then, meeting my half-opened eyes with her own, Moribe-senpai said with a furious scowl, “Must be nice, pretending to be the victim like that.”

“...What, are you still doubting my story? Well, whatever, I guess I should've expected—”

“Shut up, murderer!” Moribe-senpai cut me off as she spat her vitriol at me. “You’ve made enough excuses for yourself. I’ve been quiet for way too long. It’s my turn to talk now.” However detached from reality I might’ve thought I was, her words of pointed antagonism pulled me right back to the ground. In all my unmeasurable time in this world, I’d yet to be yelled at like that.

“Trapped in a loop, you did your best to solve this case, but no matter how hard you tried, it just wasn’t enough—You’ve got to be kidding me. The only time you ever do your best is when making excuses, Kanshou Kisuke!”

Caught off-guard by her intensity, I just stood there with my mouth agape like an idiot for a few moments, before I managed to muster up the indignation to hit back at her. “What the hell do you know about what I’ve been through!? I went through every possibility I could think of, I racked my brains for so long—If you think you can do better than that, go ahead!”

“Very well.”

“That’s right—Huh?”

“I’ll solve this pathetic farce of a case here and now. It wasn’t my place to do it, but my patience has just about run dry!”

Cowed by her daring declaration, I could do naught but stare in silence at her. Perhaps amused by my pathetic reaction, the trace of a grin visited Moribe-senpai’s for what felt like the first time in however long we’ve known one another.

“Shut up and open your ears—it's time for the final turn.”

And with that, everything began to unravel.

4

“The intended victim of this case is and always has been Kiyozumi Juna. That much is obvious. This is no botched attempt—it’s a perfectly executed crime. Fate clearly smiled upon the culprit that day.

“I’m sure this much, you’ve heard plenty of times before. Others have surely reached this conclusion already.”

She was right. Most of the time, president Shirahama was the one to draw that connection. Sometimes, when not caught up in one of his mental breakdowns, Sekimonji-sensei would also realize it. And even when everyone else failed, Damari-senpai always caught on to this fact.

“All of your friends, they always get part of the picture. By the time the cycles reach their end, I’m sure all the necessary pieces are on the table. And yet, the one meant to connect them never does. What an unsightly dereliction of duty,” Moribe-senpai says, still glaring at me. She sure has one hell of a nasty glare, this woman. Well, she was the vice-chairwoman of the Disciplinary Committee, so I guess it only made sense.

“Naturally, the culprit isn’t a part of the Arts & Crafts Club. The wrapping paper used to package the box of chocolates was chosen as a form of misdirection, to make people suspect a member. But of course, that’s just the first layer.

“The next layer was obfuscating the intended target. By making Kaneya out to be the target, the culprit could mask their true motive. But even once we discover the true victim, we still have one final layer of misdirection to contend with—” Moribe-senpai spoke fluidly, confidently. Man, I’m jealous, I thought. I never managed to be that sure of myself. Even as I wove that bullshit deduction earlier to satisfy everyone, I knew I was just desperately stringing along whatever ideas I could.

Unburdened by my unspoken envy, Moribe-senpai went on in her didactic tone. “This is probably the layer that everyone got stuck on. The poisonous idea that led everyone astray. Not that I blame them—it’s quite the obvious, logical assumption. And yet despite that, this logical assumption is wrong.

“Namely, the idea that the culprit is a resident of the Nijisou Dormitory to begin with.”

“...”

“For them to create this plan, the culprit would have to have understood a lot about the dynamics of this dormitory, and of the relations and tendencies of the people within. In other words, it would have been impossible for anyone who didn’t regularly visit it to pull off. And yet, students residing at the dormitory aren’t permitted to bring over friends from the outside—However, bringing family in is not forbidden.”

“...”

“This idea isn’t an obvious one. After all, if a family had the kind of money required to send one of their children to live at the Nijisou Dormitory, they would most likely have the money to send all of them there. Thus, most sets of siblings would naturally all be residents of the dormitory, thinking about it normally.

“And yet, exceptions do apply. Specifically, to the select few students who live at the dormitory free of charge—the best of the best, those lauded geniuses. For example—those like Sekimonji Shisai.”

“...”

For a few moments afterwards, Moribe-senpai said nothing. She just looked into my eyes. Her gaze was so bright it hurt. It was like staring into a searchlight, or maybe one of those lights they’d always shove in people’s faces in interrogation rooms. After some quiet ticks of the clock passed just like that, she spoke up again.

“You’re really saying nothing, at this point? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. There’s just one thing you’ve achieved mastery of, Kanshou Kisuke, and that’s evading responsibility.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” I said, looking away from her. “If you wanna say something, why not say it clearly?”

“Very well, then. I’ll just skip straight to the point. We’ve wasted more than enough time, after all.” For whatever reason, Moribe-senpai took her glasses off, and stashed them in her skirt pocket. Then, she lifted her finger up, and pointed it right at me. “You, Kanshou Kisuke, the youngest member of the Crimes Circle and the younger brother of Sekimonji Shisai, are the culprit behind this case.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Sekimonji-sensei… or rather, nii-san. He sure is a twisted guy, huh? Making his own little brother call him something so stuffy. Isn’t that cold?” He made me call him that in private too, for the record.

Sekimonji Shisai. Or rather, Kunugi Eisuke. And then there’s me, Kanshou Kisuke—formerly, Kunugi Kisuke. The prodigal first son, and the useless second son. The genius and the nobody. There’s not much behind the name difference—just a typical broken family, the kind you might find anywhere. Perhaps I chose to keep a different name from him in order to distance myself from him, to keep myself from wondering what a nobody like me’s doing being related to him. But then again, I sure didn’t hesitate to follow him around like a leech once I got accepted into this academy—which, naturally, was also all thanks to him.

“...” Seeing my reaction, Moribe-senpai lowered her finger, though her glare alone pointed me out well enough. “So? What do you have to say for yourself, criminal?”

“Say for myself? Not much. I don’t think I need to dignify a ridiculous accusation like that with a response—but, well, if you insist, I’ll just break it down as easily as possible.

“I have an alibi. The same alibi every other member of the Crimes Circle has. Between 4:45 and 5:00 PM on that day, the regular Circle meeting was being held. It feels so distant to me now, like it happened years ago—but ask any one of the other members, and they’ll vouch for me. So tell me, senpai, how the hell could I have managed to fake an alibi like that?”

“How?” Though I asked that question in full seriousness, it only elicited a laugh from Moribe-senpai—a scornful, mocking giggle. “I’ll tell you how. You did it by being Kanshou Kisuke—you did it by knowing exactly the kind of person you are.

“Sure, you were there that day, when the meeting started. And sure, you were there when it ended. But what about the rest?”

“—” Shut up. Don’t say it, you bitch. Shut up!

“The reality is, you could have stepped out of that room at any time and been gone for any amount of time and nobody would have noticed.” Shut up! “You could have excused yourself, saying you’d go to the bathroom, maybe. And then later, when you returned from handing over the chocolates, you’d just slip in unnoticed. Not like your presence makes any difference either way. After all, you’re a spineless wimp who needs an eternity of practice just to be able to contribute to a conversation.”

“—” I wanted to kill her, then and there. She’d just come back to life the next day, wouldn’t she? So it’d be all right, wouldn’t it? I could be forgiven for it, couldn’t I? Gritting my teeth, gripping my knees with all the force I had in me, I managed to squeeze out words. “If-if I’m the culprit, then what the hell is all this, huh? If I’ve known the answer all along, then what does the world want from me? Why am I trapped in this hell!?”

And as if to spite my shivering, quaking self, Moribe just looked straight at me with unclouded eyes, everything about her perfectly even, perfectly controlled. In a clear voice, she answered my stuttered question with a simple answer.

“It’s your wish.”

“...My… wish?”

“The very same wish that drove you to plan that desperate, childish crime, and the same one that led you to create this place.”

“.........”

“Must I spell it out? Very well, then.” Moribe-senpai narrowed her eyes at my sorry display of shell-shocked silence. “Kiyozumi Juna wanted to drive out all ‘commoners’ from Tokiwa Academy. And to achieve that, she intended to present a speech to the Academy’s board of directors during an unofficial gathering. Quite the underhanded move, isn’t it? I guess it’s understandable that you’d respond in kind.

“How exactly you learned of this plan of hers to begin with, I can’t say with certainty. But you do have a track record of listening in on conversations that shouldn’t be any of your business—sorry, I guess you’d call it ‘accidentally overhearing things.’ And with you coming and going out of the Nijisou Dormitory so often, and always being around someone like Shirahama Ryoukai, it follows that you might have heard about it from somewhere.

“Faced with a threat like this, you panicked. You couldn’t just leave it be. Someone who got into this academy through their own superior skills, like Kaneya or your brother, might be spared, but a tagalong like you who got in through charity would be the first on the chopping block. That’s what drove you to act, and even though your plan was a mundane imitation, through some twist of fate, it succeeded.

“If you were any dumber, you might have just stopped to celebrate a job well done right then and there. But unfortunately, you understand the fact that you can’t change where the winds are blowing. Even if you stopped one person from espousing their ideas on one particular day, it would only delay the inevitable. One day, maybe even sooner rather than later, you might wind up driven out of the one place you’d finally found. The clock kept mercilessly ticking.

“And so, you did the one thing you could—if that world of mercilessly change would forsake you, you’d pray for a world that would always stay the same. Where you could keep enjoying the same club activities, where you could see the same familiar places, and where you could continue to sit in the same seat you always had forevermore.”

Compelling my numb legs to move, I slid off the table at the center of the room and hobbled to the side, taking a seat on the couch to my right. The stiff, crooked corpse of Damari Arisa sat next to me, her enchanting face now blue and twisted, partially obscured by a rogue strand of hair that had fallen out of place while she spasmed. I didn’t mind. Her being there with me was enough.

“But even though you’d been granted a miracle, you couldn’t accept it. Because the guilt ate at you—‘How dare I be allowed this happiness?’ Because you hate yourself more than anyone, you couldn’t allow yourself that bliss. And yet, because you’re more cowardly than anyone else, you couldn’t admit to your sin and abandon it. And so, you pretended to be in hell. You pretended to despise this repeating world, enjoying the spectacle to the fullest all the while. And now, finally, you’ve reached the moment you’d been waiting for.

“You’ve finally tasted hell for long enough that you could justify letting go. Letting go of your guilt, I mean. You’ve convinced yourself that you’ve suffered for long enough, and so now, you’re worthy of that pure, everlasting bliss.

“You said you’d ‘give up on life’? Well, maybe that’s an accurate description. After all, you planned to just keep on enjoying these deductions, without thought, like a vegetable, for the rest of time. And yet, that’d be no punishment for you—it would be the one thing you’ve always wanted.”

“.........” I listened to her words to the end, saying nothing. At some point, a bitter smile had crossed my lips. A smile of resignation. Ah… I was so close, too. Couldn’t she have allowed me just one week? Just one week of that perfect, uncompromising bliss? But I knew that even if she had, it would have been no different from the previous one. All these weeks of phony deduction, of frantic debate, of aberrant conclusions and of chocolate, they’d all been so much fun.

“...You know,” I finally said, once it was all over. “I never really cared all that much, about perfect crimes or mysteries or answers. Hell, I couldn’t even come up with a scheme of my own without copying it from somewhere. I’m not all that smart, and I can barely string together a couple of words, let alone a perfect deduction. But even so,” I said, my vision blurring. “Even so, I really liked it, being here. I liked it, watching them butt heads and tease each other and get mad. I liked seeing what crazy ideas they’d bring out next. I liked how loud it was around here. I might not have belonged, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind that nobody was looking at me. Because I was always looking.”

For a while, the room fell into silence again. I just looked down at my feet. Moribe-senpai kept watching me, the angry, accusatory glare replaced by what felt like a gentle, sympathetic, yet firm reminder of the end.

Eventually, she spoke up again. “You know, Damari-san figured out that it was you.”

“Huh?” That out-of-nowhere revelation left me bewildered.

“Every single time, she noticed that you were the culprit.”

“B-but then, why didn’t she—”

“Accuse you? She could have. But she must have thought that her pointing you out wouldn’t help anything. I think she wanted you to be the one to come clean. Of course, even she had no way of knowing what kind of bizarre situation you’d created.”

“T-that means…”

“Yes. I said before that no one would have noticed you. I’m sorry, that was a lie. The truth is, at the very least, she noticed. She always looked at you. And I think that she looked out for you, in her own way.”

“..........” I looked to the girl on my left. She always seemed like an enigma—she always knew what other people were thinking, yet no one could tell what was in her heart. But I understood that it was just a facade—she was nothing more than a kind girl, who always thought of others. I couldn’t hold my tears back. I’m sorry, Damari-senpai.

Not just her, all of them, they were no different. Araya-senpai was true to himself and honest to a fault, even if his demeanor intimidated others. Gekihara-senpai was a nice and fun-loving girl; the room just felt too quiet when she wasn’t around. Nii-san was tough on others and especially on himself, but he was always fair and reasonable. And Shirahama-senpai—I think he found his life to be just as empty as I did. And so he just wanted to have fun, to enjoy himself with friends, nothing more than that. Yeah, that’s right… They were all my great, wonderful friends, far better than I had ever deserved.

After futilely attempting to stifle my sobbing for a few minutes, I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and raised my head. I knew it was clear what a pathetic mess I was at this point, there was no more need to hide it. Still trying to distract myself nonetheless, I asked a pointed question.

“Hey, Moribe-senpai. What are you, anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“You really tried to pretend you were a normal person, but the act kinda fell through after a while, you know? For someone who’s been pretending for however many loops, you really broke character at the end.”

“And just whose fault is it that I had to go through all that, huh?” Moribe-senpai shot me an annoyed scowl as she said that, then quickly reverted to her regular, stern expression. “I’m just the vice-chairwoman of the Disciplinary Committee. Nothing more. Nothing that matters to you in this moment, at least.”

“Haha, fair enough. Then can I ask just one more question?”

“What is it?”

“What’s your first name, anyway? All this time, and I’ve yet to hear it once.”

“...” She clearly didn’t expect that question, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Then, a brief moment later, her expression melted into a gentle smile, one I’d never seen on her face before. Succinctly, she answered. “Rinne. My name is Moribe Rinne.”

Rinne. Reincarnation. What a poignant name. “I’ll make sure to name my kid that if I ever get the chance.”

“So,” Rinne asked, ignoring my stupid joke. “Are you ready? Ready to leave this place behind?”

“Yeah… No, to be honest, I still want to stay here. I’d really stay here for eternity, happily. But…” Rising from my seat, I took a look around the room once more. “This is the kind of stuff I’ll do to my friends if I’m given the chance. So I need to end this. These people are too wonderful to spend the rest of eternity dancing in my palms.”

“Want a moment to say goodbye?”

“Nah,” I said, turning my back on the Crimes Circle room. I began walking towards the door, Rinne following closely behind. “I’ve had more than enough moments.”

5

The room was empty. No figures adorned the two couches on either side, and the president’s chair was unoccupied.

In the center of the room, on the small table, lay a box of chocolates. White and circular in shape, its lid sat separated, leaning on the edge of the box, a blue ribbon left to the side, untied.

Within the box—was nothing.