1

The spacious room serving as the Crimes Circle’ headquarters was put together as always, the tall bookshelves on either side making for a striking image.

And in the room’s center, seated around the low table, was the full lineup of the Circle’s esteemed members. Rather than engaging in any boisterous discussion, they merely sipped on their beverages in silence, as if waiting for something.

And sure enough, the tranquil scene was eventually broken by the arrival of a certain individual. The large door to the room swung open, and from behind it appeared—an unfamiliar girl.

The color of her tie as well as her short stature suggested that she was a first year student, but her steely expression suggested an intensity beyond her years. Her most distinctive features were her twintails, as well as the distinctive armband around her sleeve.

“Welcome, welcome. You must be from the Disciplinary Committee, huh?” Shirahama was the first to address the newcomer.

“Nice to meet you, senpai.” She gave a light, courteous bow. “I’m Okuoka Ouka, from class 1-B. I’m here to see you as the newly elected vice-chairwoman of the Disciplinary Committee.”

“Oh? Hmm.” Something about her statement clearly confused Shirahama in some way, as he put his hand to his chin in consideration. And the reason for his confusion—

“Hah? Didn’t know they allowed shrimp like you in that kind of position.” Araya unceremoniously stated what everyone had been thinking.

“I-I’ll have you know I was specially elected by the chairman even though I’m a first year! All because of my superior skills!” It became quickly apparent that Okuoka’s pride was easily hurt.

“Hoh, for real? Can’t imagine you bein’ able to intimidate anyone into followin’ the rules though.”

“H-how dare you! My methods are very effective, I’ll have you know—”

“Why are you getting so worked up over a worm like that? You’ve gotta be tougher than that if you wanna succeed me, vice-chairwoman.” Interrupting Okuoka’s enraged rant, another new voice filled the room. And soon enough, its owner revealed itself—a tall, fox eyed man. His tie indicated him as a 3rd year student, and his sleeve bolstered the same armband as Okuoka.

“Ah! Chairman, I’m so sorry about my shameful display!” Okuoka turned to him and repeatedly bowed deeply as she apologized.

“Hoho, this must be a pretty important matter for you to show up in the flesh, Karakuri-senpai.”

“I’ve decided to grace your nest with my presence. You should be honored, worms,” the man said with an arrogant smirk. There wasn’t anyone in the room who didn’t recognize him—the foremost enforcer of order, the dictator of Tokiwa Academy: Karakuri Kuroro, chairman of the Disciplinary Committee.

“How about we get to the point already?” With a note of irritation in his otherwise monotone voice, Sekimonji urged the conversation back on track.

“The Disciplinary Committee has come to you members of the Crimes Circle with a formal request for assistance concerning a certain incident,” Okuoka informed.

“In other words, I’m giving vermin like you a chance to contribute to society. Aren’t I just the most generous guy in the world?” Karakuri added, laughing pridefully.

“It’s really impressive how he can still be that arrogant while asking for help,” Gekihara said, exasperated.

“The scariest part is that he really believes it, too,” Damari said, even her elegant smile straining in the face of the chairman’s overwhelming character.

“Very well. We accept,” Shirahama quickly responded. “If you’re here in person, Karakuri-senpai, I’m sure this case will prove entertaining enough. Besides, I won’t pass up the chance to have you in our debt,” the president added with a wink.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, now, worm. Try actually accomplishing something before you go looking for treats.”

“And? Will you give us the details of this incident?” Interrupting the burgeoning duel of smug smiles between the president and the chairman, Sekimonji put out this very practical request.

“Ahem. It will be more efficient if you come see the scene for yourself,” Okuoka said.

“I don’t know what kind of armchair detectives you fancy yourselves as, but my committee likes to do things thoroughly.”

“I see no reason to refuse. I suppose we could use the exercise. All right then, Crimes Circle, moving ou—”

“A-ah, wait!” An interruption to the president’s declaration came from an unexpected place—Kanshou Kisuke, who’d until then merely listened quietly to the proceedings.

“What is it, Kanshou-kun. I was just getting excited!”

“U-um, I have a question for you two.” Ignoring the disappointment in Shirahama’s voice, Kanshou turned to the members of the Disciplinary Committee. “Err, do you perhaps know what happened to Moribe-senpai?”

“Hah? Moribe? I don’t know anyone by that name,” the chairman said dismissively.

“Sorry, the name doesn’t sound familiar to me either,” Okuoka added.

“I see. Nevermind, then.” And with that, Kanshou retreated. The unexplained question puzzled Karakuri for a second, but he just as quickly shelved it as useless drivel.

“Okay, are we good now?” Shirahama looked around the room briefly before once again declaring, “Then, Crimes Circle, rolling out!”

And with that, they were gone, leaving the spacious room empty once more.

2

Well, empty aside from me, that is.

I didn’t even have the chance to say I’d stay behind for a bit, they’d just left me behind like it was nothing. Well, that’s nothing new, so I won’t hold a grudge.

I know I’m a pretty twisted guy—no, well, that’s probably an understatement. Still, I figure most people are a bit twisted in their own right, too, they just never have a chance to express it. So I’m not too hung up about it, all in all. Maybe that’s a pretty normal thing in its own right, downplaying your own mistakes to make yourself feel better.

For the moment, things resolved themselves. It didn’t take much—just a small confession to our esteemed president.

“Oh boy, I sure feel like a total failure as a president right about now,” Shirahama said, his expression betraying his disappointment in himself.

“W-why’s that? You did nothing wrong. It was me who—”

“I failed to notice that a precious member of my Circle was going through so much right under my nose. If that’s not a failure, I don’t know what is.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t say I’m much of a ‘precious’ member…”

“Nonsense. Anyone who passed the test and officially joined this gathering is a precious member, no ifs, ands, or buts. Besides,” he continued, his mouth curling into a grin. “You really managed to trick me, this time. If that’s not proof enough of your worth, I don’t know what is.”

“T-that’s…”

“This is the Crimes Circle, you know. Our subject of obsession and of adoration is crime. In other words,” saying that, Shirahama bowed in a grandiose gesture, like an actor at the end of a play, “I’ve no choice but to pay my respects to a grand criminal like you, haven’t I?” Raising just his head, he gave me a playful wink.

And then he said he’d take care of everything for me. Since then, I haven’t heard anything about the incident or about Kiyozumi Juna. Seems a bit anticlimactic, huh?

Still, it’s not like that solves everything. Shirahama-senpai is just one man. However influential his relatives might be, if the winds happen to be blowing in the wrong direction, not even he would be able to do anything.

And even supposing that he did manage to quell this wave of hostility against common people like me, that wouldn’t really solve the underlying problem, would it?

The reality is that, no matter what I do, in a year’s time, most of the Circle’s members will graduate; in two years’ time, everyone but me will graduate, and in three years time, I myself will have no choice but to leave. The one place I’ve finally managed to find will evaporate with time, just like that.

It’s not like I didn’t know that all along. In the end, all I did was viciously take out my frustrations on some girl. I suppose we’re not all that different in that sense, me and her. In that same way, she must’ve taken out her own frustrations on people like me. Maybe that’s why I can’t feel too bad about it.

Sigh. Tough being an average loser, isn’t it? Unlike my brother, I’m not some genius that can always look to the future. I end up attaching myself so badly to whatever scraps of fulfillment I can find that it becomes impossible to let them go. Maybe learning to let go of stuff like that is part of becoming an adult. Ah, what do I know?

And then, as I walked between the large bookshelves in the Circle room, the discovery of one book in particular threw me out of my reverie. It was an unassuming little paperback in one corner of the fiction shelf.

The Poisoned Chocolates Case by Anthony Berkeley.

Ah… That’s right. For some reason, I had totally forgotten about the existence of this book while in those loops. I—We’d all thought the events that happened to the Crimes Circle in London almost a century ago to be reality, not fiction. In truth, our club sharing that group’s name was just a coincidence—perhaps it was what had made me so fascinated with it to begin with. Despite Shirahama’s assertions, I wasn’t some kind of criminal mastermind, so I’d lifted my plan wholesale out of this novel.

I figured even if someone noticed the similarity, it wouldn’t help them solve the case any better. Real life isn’t like a novel, after all, and no one would assume that it is. If anyone out there thinks they’d be able to solve a real life incident just because they read a lot of mystery novels, they’re either extremely naive or delusional.

“Heh.” Picking it up off the shelf and gazing at its cover, I couldn’t stifle a sympathetic laugh. This might sound weird, but I felt a kind of kinship with this book.

Both of us have no idea when to let things end, I guess. Even met with its final predetermined conclusion, it still refused to conclude. No, I guess it was those who read it that couldn’t help wanting to keep it going. People like me, perhaps?

Everything I’ve done and everything I’ll do will probably end up being forgotten, but this book—I’m sure it’ll find someone else soon enough, someone who’ll want to keep it alive for just a little bit longer.

All right then, once more to seal the deal! I’ll do the honors.

The Poisoned Chocolates Case is not yet over.