6

“Honestly, Keisuke, your idea was pretty good. An audacious psychological trick, simple and clear physical tricks, and a motive, all apparently cleverly explained by clues you collected. But weren't you a bit too conscious of the 'collecting clues' part? Today was the day of a super rare event, a solar eclipse. The testimony that Yoshida burned some papers was something you finally obtained after a lot of effort. Therefore, those clues must have been necessary to solve the case – you were controlled by that logic, even though it made no sense. It's the sort of trap that only people who only do smarty pants things like studying and solving mysteries would fall for.” 

Ohashi's frank observation was completely accurate. Without question, my theory had been constructed by working backwards from the assumption that those two pieces of information would be important to the case somehow. But...

“What's wrong with that? You still haven't proven my theory is wrong.” 

“Oh, right, that. So here's the problem with your idea. Keisuke, when you all visited the storeroom after 1:00, the room was sealed by the makeshift blockage with a pipe.” Ohashi straightened up. “But there was no light coming from the gap under the door, right? It was a clear day outside, and the sun was high in the sky, pouring light through the skylight facing south. Isn't that weird?”

I felt as though I'd been slapped across the face. That's right – whether the light in the storeroom was on or off, it still would have been light inside, and that light should have leaked into the meeting room, which was dimly lit. 

“In that case, there's only one possible explanation. The doors were already properly sealed on all four sides by then. The locked room had already been created. So the culprit couldn't have entered the room afterwards, and the solar eclipse was totally unrelated. Keisuke's reasoning is total nonsense. Do we agree?” 

I had no response to give. Not only was the content of her argument surprising, but hearing such sharp logic coming from Ohashi's mouth was a shock in and of itself. If you'll forgive me saying so, I always thought she was a bit of a dunce due to her appearance and the way she spoke, but it appeared I was completely wrong.

“...Maybe I was wrong. But then what was that paper that Yoshida burned...?” 

“That has nothing to do with the case. But I guess I can explain it. Everything I'm about to say is just my imagination.” 

“From what Yuto and the others said, it sounds like Yoshida was looking for materials for her novels based on the real world. Apparently, she was interested in Yuto's younger brother, who had experienced a setback she herself had never experienced in having his dream of going pro destroyed by an injury, and so, she approached him. From what I've heard, the worst criticism she ever got was that her books lacked reality due to her having no life experience, so she was trying to improve her works by witnessing other peoples' negative emotions.”

“Apparently, she was writing a novel about the sadness of losing a lover. So, when she suddenly dumped Yuto's brother, it was to observe up close and personal the emotions of someone who'd experienced a broken heart. Isn't that just too cruel?” 

“It is... It's so cruel...” 

Yuto grit his teeth. If that was true, it was despicable. But, having witnessed how cold Yoshida was so many times, we all thought she could do it. And...

I could kind of understand it, too. Sometimes, even though we know it's wrong, people are captivated by the magic of “reality”. Nothing inspires creativity more than what we see with our own eyes. In fact, even myself, when I'd seen the horrifying yet beautiful sight of Yoshida's corpse, was overcome by an irresistible feeling, as though it were a conditioned reflex:

I wanted to draw it.

I see. So she'd burned the papers.

“She was also watching the papers burn as part of her observations. Burning mementos is a common way to forget a deceased lover. In other words, Yoshida was burning into her mind the process of burning things, the way the sparks flew and the smoke rose, so she could describe it realistically in her novel. I think you could write it more accurately and poetically from memory than if it came from your imagination.” 

The heated look in her eyes at the time may have looked insane to an outsider.

“In that case, it really doesn't matter what she was burning. Do you get it?” 

Ohashi concluded her admonishment.

“...I'm sorry. My reasoning was too shallow. Ohashi... I'm really, really sorry I treated you like the culprit!”

I bowed deeply. I didn't know how I could apologize enough. Ohashi pouted and said “Stop it!”, but fortunately, she didn't seem all that upset with me.


“Well, I'm a generous soul, so I'll forgive you this time. Keisuke, you've learned a little bit today, right? It's selfish, trying to forcibly piece together the truth from what you have on hand. When you try to force it, you overlook simple things, you know?”


“You're right... Maybe I've read too many mystery stories.”


“That's right! No matter how hard you try, this is still the real world.” Her voice was tinged with a slight sadness. “Well, let's put that aside for now! The person we should really be upset with is the culprit who's been sitting in silence this whole time.” 

“What?” I blurted out. That's right, she said it at the beginning. She said she knew who the real culprit was. In that tense atmosphere, Ohashi slowly raised her index finger to point at my best friend. 

“You're the one who killed Yoshida, aren't you, Nozomu Kubo?” 

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