Despite frantic resuscitation efforts, Kitamura showed no signs of life.
He'd been right outside the apartment—yet Kitamura had still been murdered!
Hattori Heizo slammed his fist against the wall in fury. "It's my fault. If I'd noticed sooner…"
Officer Megure stood there, face twisted with regret. "I'll request permission from Inspector Kamisaki to arrest Sakuragaoka's dean of students right now."
"Do you have evidence?" Hattori Heizo asked.
"Kitamura was fine until that man showed up—then he died," Megure replied, confused. "And the suicide note—you said yourself it was forged."
"But the apartment door was locked from the inside when we arrived," Hattori pressed. "If the dean killed him, how did he lock it again after leaving?"
"…With a key?" Megure answered uncertainly.
"Look over there." Hattori pointed to the table where a ring of keys lay.
"T-This is a locked-room murder?" Megure's eyes widened as realization dawned.
"Officer Megure, head to the suburban supermarket district immediately," Hattori urged. "Even if you can't arrest him yet, stall the dean at all costs."
"Got it!" Megure nodded and rushed off. "What about you?"
"I'm staying to investigate," Hattori said coldly. "Even a locked room leaves traces. Find the evidence, and we take the dean down."
…
Inside Mihua Arena, the crowd roared—cheers and excited chatter blending into a storm of noise.
The morning round had ended: Osaka University defeated Kyoto University three wins to two.
Flags waved wildly, spectators leapt from their seats, teammates high-fived in celebration.
Ikenami Shizuka, who'd fought first and secured victory, was undeniably the star of the day.
"Good thing Hattori Heizo from Kyoto University didn't show," Morizono Katsuo said with relief. "Otherwise the outcome really could've gone either way."
"Even if he had come, I'd have beaten him," Ikenami Shizuka huffed.
"It is a shame we didn't get to see you two clash," Morizono laughed carelessly. "But we won—that's what matters."
He dashed toward the stands.
"Aki-o! Kazumi! We did it!"
"Morizono really dotes on his girlfriend, huh," a teammate teased. "Every match ends the same—he reports to her first."
Girlfriend?
Ikenami glanced at the three chatting by the railing.
Earlier, while resting beside the court, she'd noticed the girl called Kazumi paying almost no attention to the match. Her eyes had stayed glued to the young man beside her.
She clearly preferred the person at her side over Morizono…
Ikenami noticed but said nothing. Love was complicated; an outsider had no place meddling.
"Everyone rest up—afternoon matches are coming," the faculty advisor said with a smile as he approached. "No need to be nervous; the next opponents aren't strong. Just perform normally."
"Sensei, we just beat last year's champions, Kyoto University," one teammate pointed out. "Can we celebrate tonight?"
"…Fair enough," the advisor nodded. "Ikenami, you're today's MVP. Name the place—I'm treating!"
Cheers erupted. Ikenami tilted her head thoughtfully. "I don't know Mihua well… How about that izakaya from last night? The food was excellent."
…
Teitan High School.
After finishing his call to the First Investigation Division, Hayashi Shuichi was dragged back to class by the ear by Murakami Yui-sensei.
"Sensei, any chance of a less embarrassing hold?" Hayashi Shuichi glanced up at the school building—plenty of students were already gawking.
Class 1-A had seized the moment their teacher was absent; faces crowded every window. Mouri Kogoro was laughing loudest of all—Hayashi could hear the schadenfreude from down here.
"Feeling ashamed now?" Murakami Yui fumed. "Skipping class in broad daylight? Did you think I'm blind?!"
"I just stepped out to make a call," Hayashi protested. "If I were really skipping, I wouldn't have used the front gate."
"Hmph! You could've called any other time—why during class?!" she scolded. "You started with such good grades; if you let them slip—"
"Sensei, did you drink last night?" Hayashi Shuichi suddenly asked.
"W-Who drank?!" Murakami-sensei stammered.
"You didn't just drink—you got absolutely hammered," Hayashi drawled, smirking. "Don't tell me you went to a bar and spent the night whining to friends about being single…"
"H-How do you know that?!" Her face flushed crimson and pale in turns.
"Sensei, you wouldn't want word of your drunken escapade to spread, would you…?" Hayashi let the implication hang.
"What are you planning?" She instinctively clutched her collar and stepped back warily.
…What kind of reaction is that?
"What are you imagining?" Hayashi laughed helplessly. "You're short, not exactly curvy, and your temper's awful…"
"You little—!" Murakami Yui's face darkened; she seized his collar. "Say that again, I dare you."
"Let me finish!" Hayashi hurried. "I'm saying you're the petite-cute type. Plenty of guys love that. Even if you're single now, no need to rush."
"Tch, that's almost human," she grumbled, releasing him. Then, hesitantly: "You're not lying, right? There really are guys who…"
"Pocket-sized tiger—there's always a masochist out there for you," Hayashi quipped, then bolted for the building.
"You brat—!" It took her a second to register the insult; she yelled after him in rage.
She started to chase, then noticed the entire school building's windows lined with gossip-hungry faces.
Blushing furiously, Murakami Yui straightened up, assumed a dignified expression, and walked gracefully back to class.
Perhaps afraid Hayashi would spill her secret, she let the skipping incident slide.
After school, Mouri Kogoro asked curiously, "How'd you know Murakami-sensei had a hangover?"
"She showered this morning—odor's faint from a distance, but up close you can still smell the booze," Hayashi explained. "Also, her socks are different colors. She clearly rushed out in a panic."
"That's it?" Mouri asked, stunned.
"More than enough," Hayashi said flatly. "Bold hypothesis, careful verification. Worst case, she yells at me again—no worse than earlier."
…
Kitamura's apartment.
Hattori Heizo and two officers searched every inch. Besides fishing gear, they found only a roughly six-centimeter hole in the side wall—recently drilled for an air-conditioner line, according to the building manager.
Hattori stared at it for a long moment, then told an officer to inform Megure: evidence secured—the dean could be arrested.
Half an hour later, Inspector Kamisaki arrived in person. "Megure says you found proof?"
"Yes." Hattori nodded confidently. "The killer used that AC hole to create the locked room."
"You're not saying he locked the door, left, then tossed the keys back through the hole?" Kamisaki sighed. "The table's nearly ten meters away in another room—impossible to land perfectly."
"Normally, yes. But with a simple mechanism using items already in the apartment? Child's play."
He demonstrated as he spoke, threading fishing line from the front door, looping it around the table, and anchoring the other end at the hole.
"After the murder, the killer steps out, locks the door, ties this end to the doorknob, threads the keyring onto the line at the hole, pulls it taut, and releases—the keys slide straight to the table."
The keys zipped along the line and landed perfectly.
"Then he just yanks the line free from the door side."
"Proof this mechanism was used?" Kamisaki still frowned.
"To make the keys slide, the line had to be pulled tight," Hattori said, crouching. "Fresh abrasion marks on the table edge, the hole rim, and the door crack—clear evidence."
"But that only proves the method, not that the dean is the killer," Kamisaki said troubledly.
"I have more." Hattori straightened. "Outside the hole I found fresh blood—likely the killer cut his hand pulling the line tight. Match the blood type to the dean, and we have him."
Kamisaki nodded approvingly. "Good. I'll get the arrest warrant now."
"By the way, Inspector—any sign of the dean on Megure's end?"
"Nothing yet." Kamisaki shook his head. Seeing Hattori's frustration, he added kindly, "Kitamura's death isn't your fault. None of us imagined other Sakuragaoka teachers might be involved before Hayashi-kun's warning. And if the student prostitution ring is real…"
He trailed off, shaking his head again.
Sakuragaoka wasn't Teitan, but it still had two or three hundred students—more than half girls. If the accusations proved true, every girl there would face suspicion and stigma.
Hattori nodded silently. Before Hayashi Shuichi's heads-up, he'd sensed something off but never considered accomplices. Only after the warning did he rush to Kitamura's place—too late.
If he'd realized sooner, Kitamura might have lived, and the case would be far simpler now.
"How does that kid even know about enjo kōsai at his age…?" Kamisaki muttered, expression strange.
…
After school, Hayashi Shuichi and Eri had just reached the Poirot building when they saw a crowd gathered out front.
Curious, they approached.
Most were Osaka University kendo team members from yesterday, plus their faculty advisor and two young men and women.
Orihara Midori had arrived early; she stood in the center holding a shinai, facing Ikenami Shizuka with equal poise.
They stared each other down.
Ikenami remained calm as still water.
Orihara grew impatient—shouting lightly, she lunged for Ikenami's chest.
But the instant her hands moved, Ikenami's shinai flashed like a phantom, stopping an inch from Orihara's mask.
The speed was blinding—she'd read the attack before it began.
Orihara stared, baffled, at the serene grandmaster before her. "How are you so fast?"
"It's not that I'm fast—you're too eager," Ikenami said gently. "Rush, and your face betrays your intent long before your blade does."
"I see…" Orihara nodded, convinced. Then she spotted the newcomers. "Senpai, you're back!"
"What's all this?" Hayashi Shuichi asked.
"Osaka won both matches today," Orihara explained cheerfully. "First round they even beat last year's champions, Kyoto University. They want to celebrate here tonight. Since you weren't back yet, I asked Ikenami-san to give me a few pointers."
"We open at—" Eri began frowning, but Hayashi cut in.
"Sorry to keep you waiting—door's open now."
He unlocked the izakaya.
"Hey," Eri whispered sharply, pulling him aside. "You're seriously letting them in?"
"They're already here. Kicking them out would trash the place's reputation," Hayashi replied as if obvious.
"You never cared about reputation before," Eri huffed. "Admit it—you just want to watch that kendo girl. Your eyes were practically glued when she beat Midori!"
(End of chapter)
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