3

The police sirens sounded exactly like they had when I'd ignored them as someone else's problem a thousand times before, but these ones were intimately related to me. The dead woman was Haruka Yoshida, who lived in the same dorm as me, and I was one of the first people to find her. But even when I reminded myself of all that, a sense of unreality continued to form and reform in my mind.

Sensing danger, we fled the dorm and immediately called the police. The police and ambulance personnel who burst into the storeroom confirmed that Yoshida was dead. We desperately explained how we had come to find her, and obtained some information from the police who questioned us. Her cause of death was carbon monoxide poisoning, and the estimated time of death was around 12:00.

In other words, by the time we'd visited the storeroom before leaving, she was already long dead.

To be precise, the room where we found her wasn't a locked room. The area around the meeting room was one story tall, unlike the living areas, and a south facing skylight installed in the high, slanted ceiling allowed access to the roof. The skylight could be locked from the inside, but I was told it was unlocked when the police checked it. That meant it was physically possible to enter and exit the room through it, but unfortunately, the skylight looked directly out on the busy main street. The police felt it was unlikely someone could have escaped via that skylight in broad daylight.

By the time we were released from questioning, it was already dinnertime. When Yuto, who was still visibly rattled, and I, who was completely exhausted, entered the restaurant, Ohashi and Nozomu looked at us with concern. Ohashi was struggling to suppress her desire to ask us what had happened.

“Yoshida committed suicide.”

I couldn't stay quiet forever, so I slowly spoke. Ohashi let out a quick “Eh!?”, and Nozomu's eyes widened in disbelief. 

“It was in the storeroom in the meeting room. Both doors were sealed from the inside with duct tape, and a charcoal grill with all the charcoal burned out was there.” 

“Charcoal... carbon monoxide poisoning,” Nozomu said, putting his hand on his chin. “Does that mean she was already dead in that room before we went to see the eclipse?”

“Yeah, it seems that way, judging by the estimated time of death. Plus the doors were already sealed by then.” 

Yuto explained to Ohashi, who didn't know, about our visit to the storeroom after 1:00.

“That's right, Nozomu, you're from the chemistry department. Do you know anything about toxic gasses?”

Nozomu answered me with a slight nod and said “A bit.” 

“Carbon monoxide is tasteless and odorless, and as a gas, it's slightly lighter than air. It's produced when an object undergoes incomplete combustion, such as being burned in a small, sealed room. At high concentrations, it can cause headaches, dizziness, and numbness in the extremities, and at extremely high concentrations, it can cause difficulty breathing and reduced cardiac function. At worst, it can cause death in only a few minutes. Because it is odorless, accidents caused by carelessness are common, so it's a gas that requires handling with caution.”

“So couldn't what happened to Yoshida have been an accident, too?”

Ohashi cut in, but Yuto immediately refuted her. “The room was sealed.” 

“...But it's also true that it's hard to imagine Yoshida committing suicide.” 

Nozomu lowered his eyes as though in thought. His words could only mean one thing: there was a possibility someone had killed her and made it look like a suicide.

“Yeah, anyone who knew how strong willed she was would think that, but the crime scene was practically a locked room, you know? There was a skylight, but it'd be hard to climb through.” 

“Oh, if it was murder, they could have used that tent. The bag was open, and two pipes were sticking out. You've seen them before, right? Those long, thick silver poles with white ropes at both ends. If they leaned one or two of them against the wall and used their joints as footholds to climb, they could use them as a stepladder to reach the skylight, right? If they left the bottom side in the bag, it'd be fixed in place.” 

The strange thing about the scene was that the tent bag was open, and the two pipes were sticking out. Those pipes, which had diameters of about eight centimeters, would certainly be strong enough to be used as footholds, so it seemed feasible.

 

 

“But even if they managed to reach the skylight, the people outside would see them, wouldn't they? Even if they waited for a time when there wasn't anybody around, they couldn't be sure that time would even come in the middle of the day, and considering the risk that someone could suddenly emerge from a side alley, I don't think there would have been any chance for them to go out that way.” 

Yuto's objection was valid. Jumping off of a roof is an extremely suspicious act, and if it was ever discovered, the culprit would be done for. The police would at least search for witnesses. It was too risky.

If the door had been locked, there would have at least been room for a trick using a string fed through the gap between the door and the floor, but the duct tape had clearly been stuck on with force from inside the room. Between the public scrutiny and the physical obstacle, it was safe to assume this was a sealed room that didn't allow anyone in or out.

So did that mean that Yoshida had committed suicide after all?

“Was there any reason for her to commit suicide? I just can't figure it out. Her life seemed to be going well.”

Theoretically, you can come up a motive for suicide for almost anyone, but Yoshida in particular had both social success and mental strength far beyond what you'd expect from a college student... Well, in both those cases, that was just how it appeared. 

“Maybe as a novelist, she had some worries that ordinary people like us could never understand?” Yuto mumbled. 

“Well, if she became famous, there would of course be readers who'd criticize her books. I think she already had her critics, people who said her works were unrealistic and frivolous, the dreams of a student with little life experience. I don't know if Yoshida was hurt by that, though.” 

“Aw, she would have ignored them. She'd be all 'The ramblings of a mere peasant are beneath my concern!'” 

Ohashi had a point, and we couldn't help but ponder for a while on the mystery of Haruka Yoshida. Although we'd lived together for nearly three years, we'd rarely had the chance to see her, and we'd only had a few conversations here and there. All we had of her was the image of a cold, arrogant woman, and the fact that she wrote novels. There was no way we could guess her background, her beliefs, or her true feelings. There was no way any of us could give an educated answer to the question of whether she'd ever commit suicide.

“That's right, Yuto, didn't she break up with your brother? Maybe there was some reason we don't know about, and it was bothering her.” 

“I see, my brother... I wonder what he'll think when he learns about this.” Yuto's face twisted in pain. “But from what I heard from my brother, it sounds like Yoshida didn't feel the least bit of guilt about their breakup. If I suspected that was related to this case, I'd say it's more likely my brother did something in a fit of rage...” 

“You need a card key to enter and leave the dorm, and there's a security camera by the entrance. It seems unlikely an outsider could have been involved,” Nozomu said calmly. 

“No, I don't think my brother broke into the dorm and, um, killed her. Like, for example, maybe he said something to her that drove her over the edge... but that's not the sort of guy my brother is. He's the sort of person who turns all his bad feelings inward. He'd never lash out at someone like that.” 

Personally, after hearing Nozomu's words, my thoughts were going somewhere a bit different. The dorm had pretty good security, and the entrances and exits of dorm residents was strictly monitored. In that case, couldn't we easily find out who was in the dorm at the time of Yoshida's death if we investigated? There were a lot of people out today, so it should have been limited.

When I told him that, Yuto groaned and said “But even if we knew that...”

“We don't know where she went or what she did after we saw her in the cafeteria. It might be worth looking into whether anyone saw or heard anything.”

“You're right! I was holed up in my room rewriting that report I lost. It was, like, a book review of a philosophy book. It was su~per boring.” Despite her appearance, Ohashi was a philosophy student. “I was in the cafeteria during lunch, but that's on the opposite side of the dorm from the meeting room. So we've got zero information!” 

“I was working on my assignments in my room until you all called on me. I never once saw Yoshida, and I didn't hear anything suspicious,” said Nozomu. 

“I don't have anything, either. First off, the meeting room is pretty far away, and it's relatively well soundproofed, so even if I'd been specifically listening for whatever reason, I wouldn't have heard anything.” 

Yuto leaned back in his chair in surrender.

“Well, let's ask the dorm manager and then go around and ask people. Maybe we'll find something.” 

Yuto straightened back up when I made my suggestion and said “Wait a minute.”

“Why are we being so intrusive? Isn't that the police's job?” 

His objection was perfectly reasonable, and I couldn't help but blurt out “You're right.” Without realizing, I'd taken on the idea that I had to find out the truth behind Yoshida's death myself. Maybe it was because I've been an avid reader of detective novels and manga since I was a child. I love the thrill of a good plot twist, and seeing all the clues scattered throughout a story consolidate into a brilliant conclusion. Even in my own manga I drew for fun, many of them were about the protagonist needing to solve some sort of case.

But it was unreasonable for an amateur to go sticking his nose into an actual case. Considering an acquaintance of mine had died, it could easily be viewed as insensitive.

“But doesn't it bother you?” 

That's what Nozomu asked. The three of us turned our gazes to him.

“We lived together in the same dorm for three years, despite everything. But in the end, we never really understood how she thought. Isn't it frustrating, that we never understood her to the very end?” 

“It is! I've always been interested in her! But it seemed like she never wanted to talk to us!” Ohashi agreed in her high pitched voice. “Besides, if we're ever going to ask around, now's the time. The police investigation will probably get serious tomorrow, and the media might start sniffing around, too.” 

Looking at us with our serious expressions, Yuto shrugged his muscular shoulders in exasperation.

“You're right. Maybe this is how we can pay tribute to Yoshida.”

 

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