Since the start of the school year in September, two months had quietly passed. On the calendar, the pages marking September and October had been quietly torn away by the god who controlled time, and Saint Eden Academy now welcomed yet another November.
For a prestigious school with nearly two centuries of history, this was just an ordinary month.
But for the thousands of students living and studying within its walls, November carried a very particular weight.
It was the season of the school-wide midterm exams.
For the junior high division and the high school freshmen and sophomores who weren't yet focused on college entrance, Saint Eden held two large unified exams each semester: the midterms and the finals.
While the midterms were not as decisive as the finals, which directly affected class placements, they still loomed over students like a mountain. As the midterms approached, the school's atmosphere grew tense, filled with an oppressive sense of "a storm is coming."
Hara Kei, of course, had little concern for all of this.
At noon, in the Lamb Club room, Hara Kei naturally settled into his usual seat, a thick, heavy textbook laid open before him.
Lunch was finished. He was leisurely enjoying this quiet moment.
And then—
"Hara Kei, are you seriously not going to study at all?"
The cheerful, lively voice from before now carried a hint of barely suppressed resentment. Hara Kei recognized it instantly—not just the voice, but the feelings behind it.
During exam week, it was infuriating to see your roommate lounging casually while you were buried in preparation, or worse, planning whether to catch a movie or a concert that evening. No matter how friendly the relationship, it was hard not to feel a little provoked.
Yet understanding her feelings didn't mean he had to answer obediently.
Unfortunately for him, someone had grown accustomed to handling Hara Kei in moments like this. Between him and the massive textbook, a pink head poked in.
Don't just read—look at me too.
Radiating that aura, Fujiwara Chika squeezed herself into Hara Kei's view, as if urging him to pay attention. Unlike her usual carefree self, she now wore a small pair of glasses perched on her nose, lending her an unexpected scholarly air.
Too bad Hara Kei wasn't some kind of glasses enthusiast.
"Chika," he said, tilting his head back slightly, "I should tell you, the spot you're leaning on is…unlucky." He indicated the area under her right cheek. "Watson is currently reading a will written by Sherlock Holmes himself. For someone facing upcoming exams, this is hardly a good omen."
"You, who are reading Sherlock Holmes right before exams, have the nerve to talk about omens?" Fujiwara Chika didn't flinch. "And he isn't really dead, so how can there be anything lucky or unlucky?"
Her usual lively energy was somewhat dimmed—midterms were clearly weighing on her.
Not that her academic level was poor—far from it. Chika's performance was at least slightly above average. But students in that range often felt the most stress before exams. They weren't top-tier prodigies like Yukinoshita Yukino, who had everything under control, nor were they carefree underachievers like Tōma Yōko, who could simply relax and accept failure.
They were caught in the frustrating middle—hopeful, yet uncertain. Fujiwara Chika was exactly in that awkward position.
"Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen you studying, even though we're in the same class," Chika said thoughtfully, leaning over Hara Kei's desk. "Are you really okay? I thought for special admits like you, midterms aren't just about next semester's scholarship—they could get you expelled if you fail a few subjects."
That was true. Saint Eden recruited special admits with their futures in mind. If they didn't strive, the school had no problem removing these "scholarship thieves" from its 'great' campus. Few were expelled each year, but there were always a couple.
"Exams? Isn't just listening in class enough?" Hara Kei asked, genuinely puzzled.
"…That sentence alone makes me inexplicably furious." Chika felt a storm of dark emotion rising within her. She slammed her hand on the desk and snatched the reference book she had brought to the clubroom. "Such glaringly flawed logic cannot escape the eyes of Lady Chika! I'll show you!"
"…I don't mind. Just finish in ten minutes."
"Five minutes is plenty!"
Zero minutes later.
"Wow, Yukino!" Although Hara Kei was the one being tested, Fujiwara Chika now looked utterly defeated. She turned from one mercilessly heartless person to another, seeking comfort from another in the club.
Yukinoshita Yukino gently stroked Chika's soft pink hair, casting a mildly scolding glance toward Hara Kei that clearly said:
Can't you go a little easier on her?
Apologies, but my path is one of total commitment. No mercy.
Of course, Chika wasn't truly upset. Her cheerful, slightly masochistic personality meant she actually enjoyed these interactions.
While she leaned on Yukino for comfort, her eyes caught sight of an open notebook on Yukino's desk.
"Huh, Yukino, what's this?"
"Oh, this." Yukino didn't bother hiding it; it wasn't a secret. "This is the Lamb Club activity log." She handed the notebook to Chika. "I think it's important to keep written records."
Chika flipped through it, noting that so far only two events were recorded: Tōma Yōko Returns to Piano and The Resurrection of the Classical Music Club.
Yukino's neat handwriting chronicled the events' progression with remarkable clarity. Even Chika, as one of the participants, found herself captivated.
Finally, she hugged the notebook to her chest, her voice brimming with excitement. "Yukino, you did an amazing job! Did you give it a title?"
"Well, not really." Yukino fiddled with her hair, a little shy. "I thought we could just call it 'Lamb Club Activity Log.'"
"That won't do!" Chika's eyes widened. "Such a bland name?" Seeing Yukino still a little embarrassed, she turned to Hara Kei.
"Hara Kei, as one of the main characters of these events, do you have any ideas for a title?"
As long as it wasn't Detective Hara Kei or The Hara Kei Case Files, he thought. He almost said it—but then saw not just Chika, but even Yukino looking at him expectantly. He swallowed the words.
After a moment of thought, Hara Kei said, "How about… The Murder-Murder Casebook?"
"The Murder-Murder Casebook?" The two girls echoed in unison.
"The punctuation's wrong," the boy shook his head. "It's 'The Murder [of the Murder Case] Casebook.'"