1

Gekihara Esuzu’s life had no semblance of drama in it. There were no twists and turns to be had, and if indeed her existence could be said to follow a three act structure, then far from reaching the climax, the curtains had yet to even be raised.

She was born to a normal, average family and went through a normal, average upbringing bereft of any significant details worth mentioning. The most miraculous moment of her life had probably been her admission into Tokiwa Private Academy, having somehow aced the entrance exam that she’d had no hopes of even remotely passing; she couldn’t help but feel that she’d wasted a lifetime’s supply of luck in a single instant.

And yet, even having gained a pathway into the world of the elite and powerful, an ecosystem wholly unfamiliar to her, her life had nonetheless continued trudging on on its predictable course, mostly unimpeded by any new obstacles or challenges.

Despite her almost preternaturally uneventful existence, or perhaps precisely because of it, Gekihara developed a strong affinity for the dramatic. Upon becoming a student at Tokiwa, it took her no time at all to become a leading figure in the Drama Club, eventually even earning the position of club president, though she’d never intentionally set out to gain any such influence. Indeed, her sole concern was putting on the show of a lifetime, and it seemed that her very presence imbued each production with a sense of bustling energy and life.

Gekihara never stepped onto the stage personally, working exclusively behind the scenes; however, instead of fashioning herself a creative, she instead thought herself closer to a part of the audience. If you were to ask her, she’d surely say this—Even if you know the script ahead of time, even if the characters’ actions are entirely predictable, that doesn’t change a thing. Drama is the magic of the moment. You could put on the same play a hundred times, but you can never really reproduce those emotions in the same way.

That reality was one that surely vexed her in her other pursuits—as one seeking to appreciate the dramatic turns of life, an interest in criminology was perhaps a natural result. What else to turn to than the moments of highest intensity in a human’s existence, when tempers flare, blood splatters, and lives are irreparably altered.

Yet however enthralling she may have found it reading about these cases, a feeling of frustration inevitably found its way into the back of her mind—however vividly she imagined the emotions of those gruesome scenes, it could never serve as a substitute for actually being there, for seeing those climatic instants with her own eyes.

And that was why, upon hearing the proposal of Shirahama Ryoukai, the president of the Crimes Circle, for the first time, she couldn’t help but shudder with excitement. For what might be the only time in her life, Gekihara would be able to revel in the drama of a culprit being unmasked before her very eyes—it was a show she wouldn’t miss for the world.

2

“Welcome, welcome everybody,” Shirahama said with a pleased smile on his face, “Welcome to the second day of deductions. May the truth fall within our grasp.”

Everyone started clapping unenthusiastically, more out of obligation than anything—everyone, that is, aside from one particular individual.

“I must say, I'm glad to see you among us again, Araya-kun. I was worried you'd be skipping out on our meetings for a while.”

“Hmph. I'm no coward. I'll see this shit through, at least,” Araya said sullenly.

“Very good, very good. I'm glad to see we have a full house tonight,” said Gekihara, grinning. “I have a wonderful show for you all this evening.” Though she'd never acted on stage before, it seemed wasn’t at all lacking in showmanship. At least one person, however, wasn’t at all appreciative of her flair.

“We're not here for a show, we're here to solve a terrible incident. I'd appreciate it if you took this seriously, for the victim's sake too,” said Moribe.

“Now, now, calm down, miss vice-chairwoman,” said Gekihara, composed. “There's no philosophy more dramatic out there than punitive justice. Not an ounce of logic there, I'm telling you, it’s all about self-satisfaction—so with that in mind, how about you just loosen up and enjoy the show?” I guarantee it'll be way more fun than a court hearing, she added with a wink.

“Sigh. I see there's no point trying to argue with you. Just don't waste too much time, okay?”

“Aye aye, m'am!” Gekihara affirmed, grinning.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Fufu, I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Very well. Then without further ado, let the second deduction begin!” Affirming Sekimonji and Damari’s words, Shirahama announced the start of the second turn.

3

“Tonight’s show is a tragedy of misunderstandings, of bottled-up feelings, of poor souls unable to face one another.” Gekihara began her story with a burning ardor, as if about to unveil a deep, fundamental truth unseen by all. “It’s a story of three individuals, each a protagonist in their own right, and at once a mere victim swept up in a whirlpool of fate, of passion and taboo!”

The audience listened to her monologue quietly, the expressions on their faces dividing the room. Shirahama and Damari took in the spectacle with amused smiles, clearly enjoying themselves, while Kanshou appeared practically absorbed in the tale. On the other hand, all Araya, Sekimonji and Moribe had to spare for the performance was an array of cold looks. Appearing not to mind one way or the other, Gekihara continued her speech.

“Some might feel inclined to argue that the motive behind this incident is self-interest, but they couldn’t be more wrong. Don’t let this carefully executed plot distract you from the plain truth—this is absolutely a crime of passion.”

“It’s always crimes of passion with you…” grumbled Sekimonji, to which Gekihara would have no doubt enthusiastically declared that ‘Committing crimes for money is just so boooring!’ had she the leeway.

“In order to preface my deduction, I should first lay out some interpersonal dynamics, the knowledge will no doubt come in handy—Let’s call it our dramatis personae, shall we?

“First off, let’s talk about Kaneya Yuuta. He’s at one end of the triangle at the base of this incident. As previously mentioned, he’s a real playboy! I’m pretty sure there’s not a single first or second year girl he hasn’t tried to lay his hands on. Heck, he’s even started going after the third years!” Ari-san and I can both attest to that, Gekihara added, the two girls sharing knowing smiles.

“I’ve never been approached by him,” Moribe pointed out.

“Of course you haven’t. Even a man such as him must know better than to try picking up a member of the Disciplinary Committee,” replied Sekimonji, crossing his arms.

“Anyway, it’s an undeniable fact that Kaneya-kun has left rivers of broken hearts in his wake. And it’s equally undeniable that there are plenty of people who hate him for it. Kaneya is a man of many enemies—Indeed, one of them sits before us right now.”

Hearing her meaningful comment, Araya raised an eyebrow. Seeing his reaction, Gekihara grinned widely as she continued, “Of course, I’m talking about our very own Araya-senpai. I think he’s made his distaste for Kaneya-kun very clear already—and you’ll find that he’s another of our three core cast members.

“But why exactly does Araya-senpai hate Kaneya-kun so much? Well, that, too, has an easy answer—It’s because of the third and final end of our triangle; Araya Ryuuo-senpai’s little sister, Araya Torayo.

“The story goes that when Kaneya-kun tried going after Torayo-chan, Araya-senpai had a big brawl with him and has hated his guts ever since. And who could blame him? I’m sure no caring brother would want his cute sister being hit on by a lowlife like that.”

“Hoh, so the big, tough Araya-kun has a soft side to him after all?” Damari’s clear attempt at getting a rise out of him was met with silence, the man merely continuing to listen patiently.

“Anyway, now that we’ve set up the actors, there’s one other piece of evidence I should put the spotlight on before we can move on.” Saying so, Gekihara went back to her bag and pulled out a certain sheet of paper. “I’d like everyone to take a look at this. In case you’ve not seen it yet, this is the design featured on the wrapping paper that was used to package the box of chocolates.”

The design in question was a continuous pattern of white vertical stripes with white hearts overlaid on top of them in alternating orientations, either upright or upside down, all against a light pink backdrop.

“Up until now the only questions that have been raised regarding this wrapping paper were practical ones, like who could have gotten their hands on it, but I’d like to take a closer look and ask why exactly this design was picked.

“At first glance, it just seems like a romantic design, like something you’d give to a lover, but looking at it more attentively leads to a very different interpretation: the hearts, all pierced through the middle by the stripes, leaving them broken in two—There’s many conclusions you could draw from that, but in my opinion, the paper was meant to be a warning. A warning to Kaneya-kun, the heartbreaker, about the consequences that his actions might bring.”

“—Sigh.” A heavy exhale cut through Gekihara’s explanation—its owner was, expectedly, Araya. “I thought I’d shut up and see where you’re goin’ with this, but clearly there’s no point givin’ ya the benefit of the doubt anymore.” Shrugging his shoulders lethargically, lacking his usual bite, Araya predicted the remainder of his fellow Circle member’s deduction. “Lemme guess, you’re gonna accuse me of sendin’ the bastard that box of chocolates?”

“Hmm? No, of course not. Don’t be silly, Araya-senpai,” Gekihara immediately replied.

“Hah?” Araya’s self-assured expression faded away, his face morphing into a dubious frown.

“Someone like Araya-senpai would never think of an idea as subtle as signaling his intentions through the design of the wrapping paper,” she said, earning a nasty glare that she smoothly ignored. “No, more to the point, it’d be impossible for you to have done it. You were with me right here at a Crimes Circle meeting during the timeframe when the box was sent. I know for sure you weren’t the one to do it—And also, you’d just be too obvious a suspect. That’d be no fun!” Gekihara’s smug smile returned Araya to his previous state of silence.

“Well then, pray tell, Gekihara-kun, who in the world is the culprit in your view?” asked the president.

“Right, right, I was getting to that. Don’t go interrupting my pacing!

“Ahem! Anyway, as I was saying, the pattern on the wrapping paper spells out the motive pretty clearly. This is a threat, plain and simple. ‘If you continue as you have until now, I’ll do something even worse to you.’ Right after ruining his big game, that threat ought to have been quite convincing. Too bad Kaneya-kun turned out to be even more insensitive than our culprit expected.

“So, in summary, our culprit is motivated by passion, has a delicate hand and an eye for detail when it comes to planning, has access to the Arts & Crafts Club’s supplies, and, let’s not forget, is a part of the portentous triangle that I established earlier. With all this in mind,” Gekihara said, spreading her arms wide as she faced her audience, “I think it’s plain to see that there’s only one possible culprit in this case.”

No one in the room responded to her declaration, though their speechlessness was not one of ignorance, having already long understood where Gekihara was going. The awkward silence persisted for a few moments until Sekimonji finally took it upon himself to move the speech forward.

“So you mean to indict Araya’s sister, then?”

“That’s right! Our poisoner is none other than Araya Torayo-chan!” Gekihara declared, brimming with confidence. “Incidentally, she has no alibi during the gap between shifts. She simply claimed to have gone on a walk all by herself. Now isn’t that suspicious!”

“Haaah?” This time Araya appeared truly fed-up, a scowl on his face as he let out an incredulous cry. “Of all the ridiculous theories you could’ve come up with, I didn’t expect one this damn absurd. So what’s her motive, then? Out to stop Kaneya from stompin’ on more pure maidens’ hearts?”

“She wouldn’t commit a crime like this for a general reason like that. This incident is clearly personal, come on~,” the dramatist replied to his mocking question with a sigh. “I swear, Torayo-chan may have done something really bad, but I can’t help but sympathize, having to deal with an older brother this dense.”

“Tch. Stop beating around the bush and just say it, then!”

“Very well. I don’t think it’s my place to reveal something like this, but I suppose there’s no other choice,” Gekihara said with a solemn tone, before opening on an unusual note. “Kaneya-kun is known for playing with girl’s hearts, as we’ve already noted. I think it’s clear that he views women as nothing more than playthings. Still though, does that mean he feels no need for an emotional connection with anyone? Sure, he wouldn’t be the first man like that, living merely for his own instincts and nothing more, but I’d like to propose that Kaneya-kun is a deeper individual than we’ve given him credit for.

“Kaneya-kun does, in fact, have a romantic side to him. However, he still shows nothing of that to the girls he takes advantage of. How do we reconcile these two facts? Simple! His drive for a sentimental relationship is already being met! Indeed, separate from the girls he uses to satisfy his carnal desires, Kaneya-kun is in fact committed to a secret lover! However, understanding that the scandalous nature of this relationship would lower his standing, he chose to keep it an absolute secret, never to reveal it to anyone else.

“Still, how is it possible to cover up that passion such that no one would realize the truth? Well, for that the two lovebirds cooked up quite the scheme. See, strong passion manifests itself in both love and hatred. So, all they had to do was outwardly pretend that they hated each other, and the public would be none the wiser. Their words of vitriol for one another would be like declarations of love, hidden in a language only they would know. In that sense, our secret lover would be someone simply unable to mention Kaneya-kun’s name without throwing in an insult or two, simply unable to let even a moment go without asserting their hatred for him.”

Gekihara’s enthusiasm overflowing from her every pore, she stands up tall and points her finger at one of the individuals listening wide-eyed to her speech.

“Indeed, Kaneya-kun’s secret lover is none other than you, Araya Ryuuo!”

After allowing a few silent moments to pass, Gekihara faced away from him, continuing her speech as she began circling the room. “That on its own would have been plenty dramatic, but this case is one that just keeps on giving. See, despite their best efforts to hide it, one person came to learn of this illicit relationship. With their meticulous precautions in place, it could only have been someone extremely close to one of the two—Yes, it was Araya-senpai’s sister, Torayo-chan.

“Were she a normal little sister, she might have simply let things be, allowing her brother to indulge in his secret affair. However, the seeds of this unavoidable tragedy had already been planted long before this. Torayo-chan couldn’t allow this relationship to stand—that’s because, unbeknownst to anyone, she also held romantic feelings for her own brother!

“Indeed, that is the true nature of this case!” Arriving in front of the entrance, Gekihara turned around and spread her arms wide, as if encompassing all those present. “The beginning and the end, the beating heart of this affair is none other than Araya Ryuuo! A man cursed to bear the brunt of a forbidden love, unwittingly spawning a tragedy through his ignorance! That is all!”

Having concluded her performance at last, Gekihara gracefully bows to her audience. As the echoing embers of passion from her speech slowly peter out, the room’s quietude delivers with it the illusion of dimming spotlights and of curtains being drawn.

4

“...” “...” “...” “...” “...” “...”

Though Gekihara’s deduction had come to an end, no one in the room dared open their mouths. It was as if masks of darkness descended upon the faces of the spectators, their expressions inscrutable, not one of them daring to move even a finger as they gazed downward.

Seemingly entirely undisturbed by this atmosphere, Gekihara Esuzu casually walked over to the couch where she’d previously been seated, an innocent smile on her face, and began to sip cheerfully from her cup of tea, softly exclaiming “Phew, my throat sure was parched after that!”

Upon hearing her murmur, all eyes instinctively darted toward one man—Araya Ryuuo. The room’s occupants, Gekihara excluded, regarded this man the way one might a live grenade with its pin removed. Unbefitting their level of caution, however, Araya at last let out a sigh, gradually relaxing his body. As he leaned back into the couch, his head angled upwards, he closed his eyes. And he remained that way for a few moments, as if deep in meditation, in a realm removed from the material world. At last, having returned from his journey into the astral plane, Araya softly opened reawakened. Then, in a smooth motion, he turned to look at Shirahama’s desk, and called out to him.

“Prez.”

“What is it, Araya-kun?”

“May I chuck her out the window?”

“You may not.”

The president’s pronouncement acting like a trigger, Araya’s face turned red like a tomato, veins popping from his forehead. Boiling in anger, he stomped over to where Gekihara sat. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Damari with her hand to her mouth, seemingly unable to hold in her laughter any longer, though by this point he was beyond caring about such details.

Standing just centimeters away from the dramatist, who was still casually sipping her tea, unbothered even as she bathed in the tall man’s shadow, Araya glared at her with murder in his eyes. “Oy. What the hell was that, pipsqueak?”

“My deduction, naturally. Please pay attention when people are talking, Araya-senpai.”

“I’m feelin’ generous, so if ya admit to this just being a big joke, I’m willin’ to laugh it all off, okay?”

“Rather than that, could you please move a little? You’re blocking the light.”

“Gggrrgghhh!” Letting out a strange screech of frustration, Araya yelled at the girl in front of him. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Me and that bastard Kaneya? Stop draggin’ me into your damn fantasies, you delusional bitch!”

“It’s no use pretending anymore, Araya-senpai,” Gekihara said, snickering amusedly. “I’ve exposed your tactics. I’m afraid you can’t hide it any longer!”

“Oh, oho, ohohoho, by the time I’m done with you, nobody’s gonna have time to care about that damn box of chocolates!” As if possessed, letting out a strange laugh, Araya seemed just about ready to dismember the smug specimen below his eyes.

“C-come now, let’s all just calm down, my fellows!” A bead of sweat running down his forehead, Shirahama panickedly ran between the two, trying to stop his Circle’s office from becoming a murder scene.

Meanwhile, the rest of those present viewed the scene with a variety of expressions on their faces. Damari was still trying to calm her laughter, Sekimonji and Moribe looked truly haggard as they sighed in exasperation at the chaos, while Kanshou’s face appeared devoid of emotion, the spectacle before him having perhaps crossed the limits of his ability to process it.

“Sigh.” Letting out another long exhale, Sekimonji called out to those with the leeway to hear it. “Do I really need to dignify that with a response? I can’t muster up the motivation to try refuting that…”

“Ah, no, Sekimonji-sensei, pff—” Still assailed by her unshakeable laughter, Damari took a few moments to finally calm down enough to speak. Wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes, she continued, “you don’t have to bother with that. As incredible as it was, I can do the honors of proving that theory wrong myself.” Composing herself and regaining her usual mysterious smile, she begins relating her testimony. “It’s true that Torayo-chan was taking a walk around 4:45 PM that day. I know because I saw her myself. Whenever I see that girl it always makes me think about how much cuter she is compared to her uncouth older brother, so I remember it quite clearly. She must not have spotted me, so I guess that’s why you didn’t know, Esuzu-chan.”

Although she was currently preoccupied with gazing at the rampaging delinquent in front of her, just barely held back from reaching her by a desperately struggling Shirahama, Gekihara still managed to catch Damari’s confession, acquiescing, “Well, guess that idea was wrong then. Whoops, tee-hee!”

“Hahahah! Take that, you dumbass! Of course that moronic fantasy you call a deduction was all a bunch of bullshit!” Araya showed a victorious smile, slowing down his violent tempest, much to Shirahama’s relief.

“Well, I mean, technically, my idea about you and Kaneya-kun still holds, you know~,” Gekihara added.

Araya’s smile twitched as the vein on his forehead bulged once more. “—Seems like this little rat still hasn’t learned her lesson!”

“Gekihara-kun, please!” Huffing and puffing as he struggled to keep Araya in place, Shirahama pleaded to the girl. “For the sake of your president’s life, if nothing else!”

“Boooo!” She pouted, though relenting at last. “Fiiiine. I retract everything. I was toootally wrong!”

The life or death struggle finally abating, the atmosphere of the room relaxed. As everyone returned to their seats, Gekihara let out a brief grunt, having seemingly remembered something. Standing up, she went to her bag and brought out a certain object. “More importantly, here, everyone, have some of this!”

“Ooh!” It was a box of chocolates once again, though this time in the shape of a heart, akin to the kind given out on Valentine’s Day.

“It’s only right to follow the theme,” Gekihara added, grinning. “Come on, don’t hesitate, take one!” she said, pushing the box forward towards those who hadn’t taken any piece.

As Kanshou hesitantly ate one of the chocolates, Araya absentmindedly spun the tiny chocolate held between his fingers, also shaped like a heart, vacantly looking at it, before finally sighing, “Sigh. Can’t believe I actually took this shit seriously. If I knew my turn would be followed by this farce, I wouldn’t’ve even bothered showin’ up.”

“Hey now, no need to sulk, senpai. We both did our best! Isn’t that what matters?”

“That was your best? I’d advise you to get your brain checked, if that’s the case. But I’m pretty sure all you tried doin’ was comin’ up with the most surprising idea possible.”

“Isn’t that obvious? The more surprising, the better! There’s no point if it’s not the most unexpected solution.”

“Nah, the world ain’t that interestin’. The most dull, banal theory is always the likeliest to be true,” Araya said, repeating a mantra of his.

“The truth is just anything people can manage to come up with that sounds correct. Whatever explanation happens to stick is just declared to be true, that’s all,” Gekihara replied, before standing up and trotting over to the window. “So it can’t be too much to ask for, for that explanation to at least be interesting, don’t you think?

“If I’m given the chance, I’d prefer to believe that Jack the Ripper is an alien or a vampire. Even if I wind up proven wrong in the end, well, as long as I seriously bought it for even a second, isn’t that worth something?” The girl asked as she looked serenely out the window. “I know how boring the world really is. To the point that it’s hard to believe anything at all. When each day just flows into the next, it’s tough to believe you’re even alive.” Turning her head around to look directly at Araya, she declared, with a wide smile, “So that’s what a good surprise is for! Reminds you that you’re alive, here and now. Might as well enjoy the moment, don’t you think?”

“...” Araya silently gazed at the girl in front of his eyes, his expression inscrutable. Finally, with a scoff, he turned his head away from her and popped the chocolate in his hand into his mouth, chewing it loudly. Both Shirahama and Damari looked at him with wry smiles on their faces.

Walking back to her seat, Gekihara added out of nowhere, “By the way, my stance on mystery novels is that, as long as the solution is surprising and you can buy it without thinking too hard about it, it passes!”

“You’re going to piss off any serious fan of the genre with flippant comments like that,” Sekimonji commented on her non-sequitur.

“Ahem,” Moribe clears her throat, “I might add, a half-baked theory might be good enough for you, but we’re looking for the concrete truth here, so I’d appreciate it if you took this a bit more seriously going forward.” Her words remained polite, but all Gekihara could do was look away and whistle innocently as she was pelted by her upperclassman’s icy glare.

“Haha, now, now,” Shirahama tried placating her. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about a lack of seriousness tomorrow evening, Moribe-senpai. Isn’t that right, Sekimonji-kun?”

“Naturally,” Sekimonji immediately replied. “I endeavor to leave no stone unturned, no possibility unchecked. I expect to have narrowed down our miscreant by this time tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” replied Moribe, seemingly satisfied for the moment. And with that, the day’s meeting was adjourned.

5

And so one deduction came to an end, inviting another to take its place. The truth was yet out of sight, no closer to materializing.

Gekihara Esuzu drew the curtains to her own play, satisfied with the showing. Had she learned that she was but an actor fed her lines on a stage grander than she could ever comprehend, she might’ve simply laughed it off and continued on dancing to the rhythm.

Thus, the chime of the clock tower’s bell signaled the end of the second turn. The Crimes Circle would keep on striving for an unreachable destination.

The Poisoned Chocolates Case was not yet over.