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1
It was after school on a day when the end of the year was in sight, and I was heading to the Newspaper Club with the answer sheets for a survey in hand. The survey was a poll on whether we supported some changes in certain school rules, and while it was voluntary, my class was not used to such freedom where we could choose whether or not to answer, so we all did it anyway. Even though the deadline was still quite far off, there was no reason to hold off on submitting the responses when they had already been collected. As for why I had been chosen to bring the responses to the Newspaper Club, I was doing some late preparations to head home when the someone from the class committee asked a favor of me, saying, “Kobato, you’re good friends with the Newspaper Club’s Doujima, right? Sorry, but could you bring this to him?” There were two mysteries here. Why did this class committee member know about my personal relationships, and why did he misunderstand that I was good friends with Doujima Kengo? I was pondering these mysteries while walking down a corridor that was being lit up by the westering sun when I noticed a female student leaning by a window. The girl resting her arms on the window sill and staring outside while her bob cut fluttered slightly in the wind was none other than Osanai-san. She was not the kind of person to strike a pose in a hallway after school, so I called out to her while wondering what exactly she was up to.
“Osanai-san.”
She turned around, allowing me to see her face, upon which I stopped moving. Tears were spilling from her eyes. Additionally, her cheeks were slightly flushed and her lips were red, as if she’d put on lipstick. I could tell from a glance that it was no trivial matter, but I couldn’t find the words to say. As I stood in front of her, at a loss for words, Osanai-san wiped the corner of her eyes with her little finger.
“Ah, Kobato-kun.”
She tried grinning with forced fortitude, but immediately looked away, then muttered in a vague, slurring voice.
“You must be surprised. Sorry, I’m unsightly, aren’t I?”
“Erm… did something happen?”
“Nothing. Sorry, I’ll be heading home for today.”
With that, she turned on her heel and went off to the far end of the corridor in a trot. While I held the dream of becoming a petit bourgeois dearly in my heart, I still took pride in being a person not averse to bringing hidden truths to light. Even so, all I could gather from that short exchange was that something sad had happened to Osanai-san. It was seemingly not my place to do anything about it.
Thinking about it afterwards, that statement probably applied to Osanai-san, rather than to me. I would encounter some strange events and, by chance, attempt to resolve the situation, but Osanai-san would not play any part in that entire process. This would actually be the first time ever since we swore to maintain a symbiotic relationship that Osanai-san would not be near me as I face a mystery.
2
The Newspaper Club was using the Printing Preparation Room on the first floor as their club room. The door was ajar, so I peeked in to see what they were up to before completing my task.
On some occasion, Doujima Kengo had described it to me as a space that was poorly organized, but in reality it was a lot more chaotic than I’d imagined. Stacks upon stacks of paper, a whiteboard, even more stacks of paper, and for some reason, a small refridgerator. Right in front of the door, a large table stood in the middle of the room, taking up a sizable proportion of the limited space available. On the left and right, a few one-person desks and chairs were tucked near the walls.
A white plate was placed on top of the big table, and four students were peering at the plate with serious looks on their faces. One of them spotted me. That was Doujima Kengo, a male student of great physique whom you wouldn’t imagine to be a Newspaper Club member if you didn’t know him personally.
“Oh, it’s Jougorou. What’s the matter?”
Was that his way of greeting me?
“I’ve brought the responses for the survey that the Newspaper Club distributed.”
“Ah.”
Commendably, Kengo realized his mistake and put on an embarrassed face.
“I see, my bad. That was fast.”
“You could have collected it by yourselves.”
“That makes sense, but we don’t have the manpower to go around to every class.”
I handed over the survey responses, and my job was done. I thought of heading home, but noticed that the room had a strange atmosphere. The fact that four of them were sitting silently around a table was meaningful, and though it might have just been my imagination, they seemed to be probing each other with their eyes. I was about to ask Kengo if something had happened, when he crossed his arms and let out a small sigh.
“…Jogorou, you free now?”
“I don’t have any plans in particular.”
“Good. Actually, we’re a bit troubled right now. Mind hearing us out and giving us some advice?”
I’d promised to walk the path of the petit bourgeois with Osanai-san. Such aspirants should not be sticking their head into the worries of an unrelated group.
However, when it was none other than Kengo who sought my help, I couldn’t refuse at all. It was a tough decision, but if I could lend just a bit of strength to Kengo, it wouldn’t be a problem for me no matter what this consultation was about.
“Fine, but what happened?”
“You sure look happy…”
No, it was a tough decision.
The other three people in the room sent reproachful looks at Kengo. I didn’t know what had happened, but it was natural to feel uncomfortable at him unilaterally asking advice from an outsider. A boy with a plump figure spoke, his words dripping with irritation.
“Oi Doujima, what are you doing? Are you really telling him?”
“It’s not like we want to keep it a secret, and it’s better than us staring at each other the entire time. Maybe one of us can figure it out in our heads when we talk to someone else about it. Moreover… Kobato Jogorou sometimes never fails to notice some strange details.”
What a circuitous evaluation. The other boy looked disatisfied, but apparently didn’t want to pick a fight with Kengo, for all he said was, “What’s that supposed to mean?” before lapsing into silence.
“What do you think, Makishima, Sugi? Shall we consult him?”
The two girls exchanged glances, after which the taller and thinner one gave a short answer.
“It’s fine, isn’t it?”
“Right, it’s decided, then.”
With a nod, Kengo first added the survey sheets in his hand to a mountain of documents by the wall. Next, he pointed at the plate on the big table, and spoke gravely.
“This is the problem.”
The plate was white, round, about twenty centimeters in diameter, and had nothing on it.
“Ah, basically… it’s a plate, right?”
“Just be quiet and listen.”
Fine.
“I didn’t know before, but there’s a kind of pastry called Berliner Pfannkuchen.”
Though I was just told to be quiet, I couldn’t help but respond.
“Ber… what now?”
“Berliner Pfannkuchen.”
“Sorry, can you repeat that again?”
“Berliner Pfannkuchen.”
I wasn’t hard of hearing, just that Kengo was speaking too quickly for me to hear well, or at least that was what I wanted to believe.
“Berliner…?”
Kengo shook his head in capitulation.
“It’s a German-style agepan1.”
I see, now I understand.
“It’s a specialty of Berlin, and as its name suggests, it’s as big as a normal fist. The bread is not just deep fried, but contains some jam. There’s a game where people prepare a lot of these agepan at the end of the year, put mustard in a few of them and see who gets the mustard.”
“So this type of game is played everywhere, huh.”
“A bakery selling German bread recently opened near school. They also deal with this agepan, so we planned to cover it in our December issue with the theme of ‘New Year Celebrations Around the World’. We asked for an interview, and they agreed to it. So, we thought that we shouldn’t just listen, but also try out that game for ourselves, and it was decided that whoever got the donut with mustard would write the report. We got enough agepan for us, and placed them on this plate.”
That explained why the plate was on the table.
“So you all ate them together?”
The image of Kengo cramming some jam-filled agepan into his mouth upon hearing the signal to start popped up in my head, but I found it to be a little strange. Contrary to his outward appearance, Kengo is the type to fuss over the way to prepare delicious cocoa, so he should be able to handle some sweetness.
“Was it delicious?”
I asked, and for some reason, Kengo grimaced.
“That’s the problem.”
“It wasn’t delicious?”
“No, it was.”
“So it isn’t a problem, then.”
“As I said, it’s a problem. Listen, everyone in this room said it was delicious.”
Without thinking, I ran my gaze across the other three people surrounding the big table. All of them had unconvinced looks on their faces. Kengo raised his voice.
“That can’t be possible. Someone must have gotten the one with mustard in it. But the person who got it didn’t admit that they did. Even when I said to stop with the stupid jokes, everyone insisted that they didn’t take the hit.”
The plump boy cut in from the side.
“Including Doujima.”
Kengo nodded gravely.
“Yes. Including me.”
He then directed a question at me.
“Jougorou, can you figure out who ate the lucky agepan?”
That conversation made me want to apologize to Kengo. I was always under the assumption that the monthly paper the Newspaper Club publishes, Funado Monthly, would only report on boring topics, like the results of some sports meet that nobody was aware of, or the destination of the school excursion, and was neither harmful nor helpful to anyone. I never thought that they would get their hands on some German-style agepan that isn’t exactly sold everywhere and write a report on that. It was a complete misjudgment on my part. If that plan was in danger, perhaps I should try to be useful.
“I see. I don’t know if I’ll be able to figure it out, but do tell me all about it.”
After those humble words, I decided to check the names of the four people.
Needless to say, there was Doujima Kengo.
The boy with a plump body who would sometimes mutter something in displeasure was Monchi Jouji.
The tall and slender girl who didn’t hide her distrust towards me in her facial expression and actions was Makishima Midori.
The petite bespectacled girl who seemed to be confused by this turn of events was Sugi Sarako.
Besides Kengo, the three people were apparently all first-year students belonging to the Newspaper Club. They would be the “suspects”. I glanced at my watch to find that it was 4:45.
“All four of you ate the agepan, right?”
Kengo nodded.
“When you did the tasting, there were four agepan on the plate, correct?”
“Exactly.”
“And one of them contained mustard.”
“Yeah.”
Being able to speak concisely is one of Kengo’s biggest merits, but I wanted a little more prudence.
“Sorry Kengo, but could you answer only what you know to be undoubtedly true?”
He frowned, but immediately nodded and corrected himself.
“My bad. When we tried the agepan, there were four of them on the plate, and one of them supposedly contained mustard. Makishima, Monchi, Sugi and I ate one agepan each, but no one said that they got the mustard-filled one. The plate has not been moved since.”
“I see, thanks.”
Now, then…
This time, I was tasked to find the person who ate the mustard-filled agepan, or in other words, the culprit. I am not incompetent at logically reinterpreting a situation that seems impossible at first glance, or deducing what someone is hiding. However, it is extremely difficult to perfectly finger a culprit just based off deductions. To give a drastic example, it was not entirely impossible for a mysterious phantom thief to have hypnotized the Newspaper Club and made off with the mustard-filled agepan. Even if we bring things closer to reality, it was possible that someone simply made a fatal misunderstanding. If I evaluated every likelihood equivalently and considered every statement to be dubious, it would be impossible to point to the culprit with sufficient accuracy. That is why it was imperative that I first establish some premises.
One: Anything Kengo declares should be assumed to be true.
Two: This case has nothing to do with supernatural phenomena.
Three: The culprit acted rationally in their own perspective.
I could think of a few possibilities that follow these three points, but I shouldn’t be hasty, and should cement the conditions before jumping into things.
For one, it would be good to check the contents of the room.
This room is called the Printing Preparation Room, located on the first floor of the school building, and is also used by the Newspaper Club. It is next to the Printing Room, but is for some reason not connected by a door. Then again, one can immediately reach the Printing Room by exiting to the hallway, so it isn’t exactly a problem. The room has a sliding door, and it was open when I arrived.
Looking in through the door, the Printing Preparation Room seemed narrow but deep. Directly opposite the door was a window with its curtains drawn back, and a large table was enthroned in the middle of the room. The table’s surface was clean, only containing the white plate that used to hold the fried bread.
Cardboard boxes and bookshelves were lined along the wall, with sheets of paper spilling from them as well. Looking in from the door, I could see some tables that are normally found in classrooms, one by the right wall, one by the left wall and one next to the window straight ahead. Each of these tables had a chair placed nearby, except for the table by the window. I noticed some paper and photographs scattered on each of these tables.
There was a whiteboard placed by the right wall, and written on it was what looked like an outline for the December issue. The subtitle “Berliners from Germany” under the headline “New Year Celebrations Around the World” must be referring to this problematic agepan game in question. Sitting next to the left wall was something I’d been curious about from just now, a refridgerator. Noticing my gaze, Kengo asked.
“Oh, you curious about the fridge?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Even I don’t know why it’s here. It’s not even plugged in.”
Since the school wouldn’t pay the electrical fees for a refridgerator that only the Newspaper Club would use, there was no mystery as to why it wasn’t plugged in. The weird thing was why it was even placed there in the first place… though I wouldn’t imagine that it was related to the agepan mystery.
Now that I’d roughly examined the room, I questioned Kengo again.
“Could you tell me the shape and size of the agepan?”
Kengo formed a circle with his thumbs and index fingers that was a size bigger than a 500-yen coin.
“It was about this big, and it was spherical in shape. It was brown and had some white powder on it.”
“That wasn’t just some white powder, it was granulated sugar.”
“That’s what I thought, but I was told to answer only what I know to be undoubtedly true.”
I was impressed by his conscientiousness. But that aside…
“Didn’t you say it was as big as a fist earlier? What you described seems quite small in comparison.”
The ring produced by Kengo’s fingers was about the size of a mini castella sold at festival stalls.
“Ah, they’re usually much bigger. The store we interviewed said that they were trying to make a small size of agepan for kids, so we asked them to let us have some. Since we would be able to see the mustard if we were eating the normal-sized ones, it was really convenient that we got some that can be eaten in one bite… and it saves on costs.”
“Meaning… that the agepan you used for your game isn’t being sold.”
“Exactly.”
It would probably be difficult for someone to disguise as a customer and buy equally-sized agepan.
“Was there a variety of flavors? Like chocolate, or orange?”
“…I dunno. They were just samples, so they might be test products by the bakery. I can’t say for sure. They all looked the same to me.”
“Did you notice anything else?”
“There was a small hole under the agepan, or the other side of the white powder. Mind if I make a guess?”
“Go ahead.”
“That’s the hole where they put in the jam. I think the mustard was added from that hole as well.”
“I see, that certainly sounds like it.”
Monchi muttered, “Did you really have to be so careful?” Well, while he was usually too careless, Kengo rigorously distinguishing the facts from his speculation was extremely encouraging.
That should do it for the agepan itself. On to the next topic.
“The tasting was done just now, right?”
“Yeah, a bit after 4:30, I think.”
“You already told me that the four of you tried the bread, but was there anyone else at that time?”
“At the moment we ate the agepan, huh? If so, it was definitely just the four of us.”
His phrasing was a little curious.
“You mean there were other people at different times?”
“Yeah. The one who brought the agepan was Seba-senpai, a second-year.”
“And that person…”
“He immediately left. No, sorry, I didn’t see him. He should have immediately left. He’s in a band, and they have a live performance today. He’s the vocalist, I think.”
“Wow…”
I’d thought that this school didn’t have many oddballs, but being in the Newspaper Club and the vocalist of a band at the same time was certainly interesting. I wanted to know what direction the band went in, but refrained from asking as it was probably not related to the agepan mystery.
“So no one else other than this Seba-senpai entered the room?”
Kengo started to nod, but instead spoke in an annoyed manner.
“At the very least, I didn’t see anyone. What about the rest of you?”
The other three students gave the same response.
Now I roughly understood the basics of this situation. I knew what I wanted to say next, but I was hesitant to do so in front of the suspects.
“Kengo, let’s talk in the hallway.”
“…Alright.”
I walked out of the room while feeling the cold stares of the other three people, with Kengo following behind. The autumn sun was beginning to set, and the sky outside the window was red. I could hear the high-pitched clangs of a baseball bat hitting a ball ringing out from the athletic grounds.
“So?”
Kengo asked a short question, so I gave a straightforward reply.
“Does anyone have a motive?”
I wouldn’t be able to determine someone to be the culprit just because they had or didn’t have a motive, but it was still something I had to ask. Some beneficial information could possibly fall out of this, after all. Kengo frowned.
“That’s hard.”
“You can make an educated guess here.”
“Of course. I can’t talk about others’ internal feelings as fact.”
Crossing his arms, Kengo groaned.
“To be honest, I can’t think of anyone having a motive. That’s why everyone’s feeling so uncomfortable.”
“The person who takes the hit has to write the article. Could it be that they didn’t want to do it?”
“It’s not like you don’t have to write anything if you don’t take the hit. It’s just that the person would be assigned to the agepan article, while everyone else gets assigned to other articles.”
“What if someone really didn’t want to write about agepan…”
I made a shot in the dark, but Kengo shook his head.
“No one was forced to participate. Seba-senpai refused, saying that he can’t take spicy food at all, and the president is writing the main article, so he didn’t join us. There’s another first-year club member, but they didn’t participate.”
“For second-year students, there’s only Seba-senpai and the club president?”
“Yeah.”
So there were five first-year students and two second-year students. I didn’t know if I should think of them as a club with an unbalanced composition of students, or as a club that was easy to enter but quickly made you want to quit.
“What was the other first-year student’s reason for not participating?”
“That guy’s called Iida, and he’s a semi-ghost member who may not even appear once a week. It would be awkward if he happens to show up while we’re eating the agepan by ourselves, so we did tell him beforehand that we would be researching this topic, and asked if he wanted to join us.”
“It wouldn’t be strange if he refused without giving a reason why.”
“Yeah. All he said was, ‘I’ll pass.’”
“The person who directly communicated with him was you, right?”
“We’re in the same class. I also talked to him after classes ended today, but he said he couldn’t go to club today because he had to attend cram school. I walked with him to the entranceway and saw him off.”
Indeed, if this activity was voluntary, it wouldn’t make sense for the person who got the mustard-filled bread to not self-declare. Could they have assumed without any basis that they wouldn’t get the winning agepan, and when they did, decided to feign ignorance in a state of panic? That didn’t seem very likely.
There was another thing I needed to ask Kengo about.
“So, why did you ask me for help?”
He put on a puzzled look.
“What do you mean, why? I just wanted to know who took the hit.”
He then added a line that didn’t need to be said.
“I was also grasping at straws there.”
I’d had no intention of assuring him that he was in good hands, but that was quite the unexpected line.
“I was wondering if you had any reason for wanting to find the culprit that you would grasp at straws for it. It’s meaningless to say this at this point, but even if the culprit isn’t revealed, you all could simply play rock paper scissors to decide who writes the article.”
I would be a little dissatisfied if they really decided it with a game of rock paper scissors, but that was certainly a way to solve their predicament.
Kengo made a sour face.
“You sure hit where it hurts.”
He spat out.
“I didn’t plan to say this, but…”
“There’s something going on, right?”
“Don’t tell this to anyone.”
Naturally.
With a short sigh, Kengo folded his arms.
“This project was suggested by Makishima. She was the one who noticed that a German bakery recently opened near the school, found out that they sell these Berliner Pfannkuchen and learned that Germans play a game with them at the end of the year. She brought it up and asked if it would be a good idea to write an article about it. The project went through, but Makishima actually isn’t getting along well with Monchi. I don’t know what happened, but they’re in a cold war with each other, and Makishima probably thinks that Monchi is keeping quiet about him taking the hit just to destroy her plans. Monchi also doesn’t appreciate being suspected, and if they actually lock horns, Sugi will likely side with Makishima. If we don’t find the culprit now, the Newspaper Club could break up. This problem is a lot more serious than it looks.”
My eyes opened wide in amazement.
“Kengo… you’re actually quite thoughtful, huh.”
“Oi, what did you think of me before?”
They say you should never judge a book by its cover, but I honestly couldn’t imagine the rugged Kengo to be so considerate. Perhaps I should reflect a little on my misjudgment.
Finally, I asked one last question.
“Let me confirm with you again, just in case. The agepan you ate was not the lucky one, right?”
Kengo’s eyes opened wide for an instance, but he immediately composed himself and answered.
“Yeah, it wasn’t the lucky one.”
Taking whatever Kengo said to be true was one of the premises I’d raised earlier. By following this premise, no matter how complicated the situation becomes later, I could be certain that Kengo did not eat the lucky agepan.
Three suspects remained.
When we returned to the room, the other three were still surrounding the big table while sitting on folding chairs, as before. There was one more chair in the room, but it would be weird for me or Kengo to sit down, so we continued standing. Ignoring the piercing stares, I put on an especially brave face.
“I heard from Kengo. There are only two second-year students in the Newspaper Club, and there is another first-year student.”
I’d actually heard more than that, but of course, I kept quiet about it. Observing them again, Makishima-san and Monchi-kun were indeed not looking at each other, while Sugi-san was looking nervously at their facial expressions.
Makishima-san spoke in a manner that seemed to say, “How ridiculous.”
“You won’t figure out anything by hearing about that. All I want to know is who took the hit.”
“I can’t say anything about the ‘culprit’ yet.”
She snorted. I didn’t feel frustrated by that, but continued.
“But I’ve gotten a good assessment of the situation. I can come up with three broad reasons as to why the culprit did not come forward.”
“Three?”
I raised my index finger.
“First, the agepan contained no mustard in the first place. That is why no one took the hit.”
“But that’s…!”
Turning a deaf ear to Makishima-san’s words of protest, I put up my middle finger.
“Second, there was mustard in the agepan, but the person who ate it did not notice.”
Sugi-san tilted her head.
“But everyone tasted it properly…?”
Looking at everyone surrounding the big table, I raised my ring finger.
“Third, someone here took the hit, but didn’t want to say that they did. They had a reason to hide that fact.”
“A reason to hide?”
The one who reacted sensitively was Monchi-kun.
“Why don’t you tell us what you have in mind, then?”
“I don’t know, but for example… the culprit is extremely superstitious, and couldn’t accept that they got the mustard-filled bread?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I can’t speak of others’ inner thoughts as fact.”
I copied Kengo’s words from earlier, causing Monchi-kun to withdraw while muttering something incomprehensible, and Kengo to look sour.
Looking at my hand that had three fingers held up, I thought of one remaining possibility that could definitely be considered, so I raised a fourth finger.
“Another possibility is that the culprit is from outside the club.”
Kengo instantly responded.
“That can’t be. There were only the four of us, and there were four agepan. An outsider couldn’t have done anything… you can’t be saying that they swapped the mustard-filled agepan with a normal one, right? As I mentioned earlier, it isn’t sold anywhere else.”
Monchi-kun clicked his tongue.
“I was here the entire time writing an article. I didn’t even go to the toilet. If someone came in, I would’ve noticed.”
“By here, do you mean this very seat?”
Monchi-kun who was sitting while facing the big table irritably shook his hands and pointed towards the window. As I’d taken note of earlier, there was a table near the window, but no chair.
“I was in that seat. There’s no way I wouldn’t notice anyone going in or out.”
“I can’t see any chairs, though.”
Sugi-san cut in timidly.
“Makishima-san and I are currently using them.”
Kengo continued with a declaration.
“Monchi was indeed there writing an article when I arrived.”
I wasn’t doubtful of that statement, but I tried checking his memory.
“Was Monchi-kun facing the room, or was he facing the window?”
“Neither. His side was facing the window. He looked at me immediately when I entered.”
He answered without hesitation. Following that, Makishima-san raised her voice.
“Going by common sense, even if an outsider came in, they wouldn’t just quietly eat something on the table.”
Going by common sense, we wouldn’t have this situation where no one knows who ate the mustard-filled agepan… I wanted to retort, but she had a point. Even Osanai-san wouldn’t pinch a snack lying in some other club room without permission.
“So there were only four agepan, and on top of the fact that the entrance to this room was being monitored, no one would eat another club’s food at their own discretion, huh. It’s already in tatters, but if you have any other proof to reject the outsider theory, I’m all ears.”
Kengo meticulously pondered for a moment, then asserted.
“No, it’s just these three reasons. Is that not enough?”
“Of course not. I withdraw the theory that someone from outside the club did it.”
I placed my hands on the large table.
“As expected, that would mean someone here got the lucky agepan. We’ll leave figuring out their motive for later, and for now we’ll set the record straight on the mustard.”
“You mean the possibilities that there was no mustard, or that someone didn’t notice the mustard?”
Kengo muttered dubiously.
“Can’t we just declare the former to be impossible? And the latter isn’t unreasonable, right?”
“Surprisingly, mustard doesn’t have a very strong taste. The culprit could have gotten the wrong idea and believed that the agepan simply tasted like that. Was the mustard inserted in the shop?”
Sugi-san answered my question.
“Ah, no, I think Hencho-san had it put into the agepan at the Home Economics Club.”
“Hencho? Is that a family name?”
“Umm, no, I mean the editor-in-chief2, Seba-senpai.”
So Seba-senpai, the vocalist, was also the editor-in-chief, huh. It was quite interesting that the club president and editor-in-chief were two separate people. While contemplating the personnel administration of the Newspaper Club, I asked.
“Basically, it wasn’t that mustard was put in place of jam, but mustard was added to the jam, right?”
Sugi-san nodded. Would that taste weird, I wonder…
“I’ll need to check with the Home Economics Club, then. Also, does this plate belong to the Newspaper Club?”
Kengo tilted his head.
“No. Just a guess, but I think it’s probably borrowed from the Home Economics Club.”
“I’ll also ask about that. For the time being, how about writing your thoughts about how the agepan tasted? Each of you should jot down what you thought the agepan tasted like without showing it to anyone else. We’ll compare them later, and if someone’s impression is clearly similar to mustard, we can think that they took the hit without knowing it.”
Makishima-san turned away and fiddled with her hair.
“Let’s go with that, then.”
The fact that she accepted my suggestion so readily meant that she probably thought highly of it.
“Kengo, the Home Economics Club’s room is the Home Economics Classroom, right?”
“Yeah. You’ll be going?”
“I’ll have nothing to do while everyone is writing about the taste, anyway. I’ll be back.”
“Thanks, I’ll leave it to you.”
With that, Kengo lowered his head, just a little.
3
Like the Newspaper Club’s room, the Home Economics Classroom was also located on the first floor. I arrived in two to three minutes.
The Home Economics Classroom was equipped with sinks and cooking counters, and was filled with a unique smell which I couldn’t decide if I liked or not. In a corner of the spacious room, a singular boy clad in gym clothes was sharpening a kitchen knife while standing. He should have known that I’d entered due to the noise made from opening the door, but he did not turn to look at me, and instead continued producing shink sounds from his whetstone. I didn’t know which year he was in, so I addressed him politely.
“Excuse me, could I have a moment?”
The boy stopped and vacantly raised his head. His intimidating face contorted in displeasure as he stared at me, the uninvited guest.
“What?”
How should I introduce myself?
“I’m from the Newspaper Club.”
That wasn’t a lie.
Upon hearing that, he suddenly broke into a smile. From his mischievous grin, I sensed that his earlier displeasure was probably because he’d been concentrating on handling his knife. After putting down the kitchen knife, he scrupulously wiped his hand on a towel.
“Ah, so how was it?”
“What do you mean, how?”
“Didn’t you come here about the Berliners?”
He seemed to know the situation, which made things easier for me. I wondered about how much I should tell him about what had transpired at the Newspaper Club, but Kengo hadn’t said anything about keeping it a secret, and it didn’t seem fair to withhold any information on my end when I was here to question him, so I ultimately decided to give him a rough outline.
“Yes, but actually, when the Newspaper Club ate the agepan, nobody said that they got the one filled with mustard. I came here to confirm if there was really one with mustard.
The boy smirked.
“There was no mustard.”
Oh?
“What do you mean?”
I questioned enthusiastically, causing the other student to look perplexed.
“Seems that information about this situation wasn’t shared.”
“You’re right. All I was told is that Seba-senpai should have asked the Home Economics Club to have mustard added into one agepan. Is that wrong?”
“Yeah, it is. Well, I suppose I’ll explain from the start.”
With that, the boy pulled over a nearby chair and motioned for me to take a seat. I complied, and he opened with a preface.
“I don’t know that much, but…
“Seba talked to me yesterday, and asked if I could insert some mustard into a Berliner. I was planning to do just that, but when he brought me the actual Berliners, I asked if I should add whole-grain mustard or yellow mustard, and he said that anything is fine as long as it’s spicy. I was in a pickle, because neither of them are very spicy at all.”
I was actually curious about that point. Seba-senpai did not join the agepan taste testing because he couldn’t handle spicy food, but the impression I had of mustard was that it had a unique flavor and sourness, and was not actually that spicy.
“So I asked him to decide if I should add mustard or something spicy, and he told me to add something spicy. So that’s what I did.”
“What did you add?”
“Tabasco. And it was an extra-spicy flavor.”
The boy stood up and brought over a black bottle from a cupboard at the back of the room.
“Tabasco is a brand name, so to be precise, I used hot pepper sauce. It’s not the most spicy hot pepper sauce in the world, but it’s the most spicy out of those I consider to be flavorful.”
A red label was affixed to the bottle, and on it were letters of the alphabet that spelled out some words that were not English. I couldn’t read those words, but the skull mark drawn there made it clear that it was spicy enough to pose some dangers to one’s health.
“Did you pour this sauce over the agepan?”
“If I did that everyone would be able to tell which one has the hot sauce. I placed the Berliner in a small bowl, then inserted the sauce using a syringe through the hole they use to put in the jam. It was only two or three drops, but that should be enough.”
So the agepan didn’t contain mustard, but Tabasco… how would that affect the process of identifying the culprit? Or would it make no difference? This case could be more complicated than I thought.
“…Could I ask a few more questions?”
The boy opened his palms, meaning that I could ask as much as I wanted.
“Seba-senpai initially asked you to add mustard, but did he directly talk with you yesterday?”
“Yeah, but he kept rattling on about his requirements that I didn’t get the chance to ask about what type of mustard he wanted.”
“And he came over again today with the agepan?”
“Yup, but to be precise, he brought over a plastic bag. There was a paper bag in that plastic bag, and in the paper bag were the Berliners.”
I looked at the wall clock to see that it was a little past five.
“What time was it?”
I thought that he would have trouble with that question, but he answered it readily.
“About four, I think.”
“…You remembered that?”
“He said he would come at four, and he did. Of course I would remember that.”
Classes and home room would usually end at about half past three, and the German bakery was apparently close to school, so it wasn’t unnatural to go there and come back in thirty minutes.
“Who inserted the Tabasco?”
“Me. Seba was poking around the cupboards while I was dealing with the Tabasco. I opened the paper bag, picked up a Berliner with chopsticks and put it in a small bowl, then inserted the sauce through the jam hole using a syringe and put it back in the paper bag. As I was washing up the small bowl, Seba came up with a plate, and he moved everything in the paper bag onto that plate.”
I paused for a moment to imagine those events.
“…That plate is school equipment, right? Is it fine to use it like that?”
“Course not.”
“What a mess.”
“Yeah…”
It seemed that this guy had his fair share of worries, too. But putting that aside…
“Does this mean that even Seba-senpai doesn’t know which one contained the Tabasco?”
The boy grinned.
“Probably. He even said so himself.”
I’d actually thought that it would be easy for Seba-senpai to construct a situation where no one gets the lucky agepan. He could have gotten an extra agepan from the store, and secretly discarded the one filled with Tabasco. I didn’t know what motive he would have for that, but such an action was feasible.
But according to the Home Economics Club member’s account, Seba-senpai didn’t even know which one contained the Tabasco. In this situation, discarding one and adding in another that he’d concealed wouldn’t make any sense. I should strike off the possibility that he did some sort of trick to the agepan.
“Did you see the plate of agepan?”
I asked nonchalantly, but the boy looked flustered.
“Only a glance. I didn’t get a good look at it.”
“So, do you know how they were arranged, or how many there were on the plate?”
“Sorry, I don’t know. Is that bad?”
I contemplated for a moment. I’d already asked all that I wanted to, and there was no helping it if he didn’t see the agepan on the plate.
“…No, not really. What happened to the paper bag and plastic bag?”
“Seba left them here, so I threw them away. Wanna take a look?”
I nodded, and the boy produced two bags from the trash can. The plastic bag was the semi-transparent kind and did not have the store name or anything printed on, but the paper bag had “German Bakery Danke Danke” written on it, and was lightly stained with oil. Besides that, the bags contained no other points of interest.
“One more thing. Seba-senpai knew that the agepan had Tabasco instead of mustard, right?”
This time, his reply was unexpected.
“He doesn’t. I made sure not to tell him.”
“Eh? Why?”
“I wanted to surprise him. Seba should think that there is some slightly spicy mustard in the world, and I put that in the Berliner.”
So that was why he smirked when I introduced myself as being from the Newspaper Club. He probably wanted to find out how his prank turned out. Just in case, I asked.
“Do you have any idea why no one took the hit?”
“Nope, not at all. I put in the Tabasco, and I don’t think anyone can eat that without any reaction.”
So it must be very spicy.
I held up the black bottle in my hand.
“Could I borrow this for a while? I want to show this to the Newspaper Club members.”
The boy waved his hand languidly.
“Go ahead. You can even taste it if you want. I’ll be here for about another hour, so come back here with the plate by then.”
After that, he spoke with a serious look on his face.
“I’ll tell you just in case, but be careful not to get it in your eyes. It could send you to the hospital.”
It was difficult to imagine a situation where Tabasco would get into one’s eyes, but I didn’t have the faintest idea about what the Home Economics Club would use such a dangerous substance for.
I returned to the Newspaper Club room to find the door still wide open, as expected. Kengo, who had been standing up the entire time while I was there, was now sitting in a chair, and a small piece of paper was placed in front of each of the four students who were facing the big table.
“Thanks for your hard work, Jougorou. What did you find out?”
I searched with my eyes, but couldn’t find a seat for me. Well, while I was acting under Kengo’s request, I was just an outsider who had just poked his head into their internal problems, so I was fine with not having a chair. Moreover… standing while saying my piece could seem, for want of a better word, cooler. I subtly hid the black bottle I was holding behind my back.
“Seba-senpai definitely went to the Home Economics Club. He arrived at four, and met with the person he’d asked to handle the agepan.”
I still hadn’t mentioned that the agepan contained Tabasco and not mustard. The four pieces of paper on the table should contain their impressions of the agepan’s taste, so it would be better to tell them only after reading those notes.
“Have you compared each others’ impressions of the agepan’s taste?”
I asked, and Kengo replied in a brusque manner.
“It was your idea, so we thought we should wait for you to get back before checking everyone’s answers.”
That caught me off guard a little, but it made me happy.
“Well, thanks for your consideration. And I’m sorry for making you wait.”
“I wasn’t the one who made that suggestion. It was Sugi.”
I turned to look at her, but she shrank back.
Since they’d waited for me, I would feel bad to make them wait even more.
“Let’s take a look, then.”
Upon hearing my words, the four Newspaper Club members each flipped over the sheet of paper in front them.
Kengo: It was sweeter than I expected. Was it blueberry jam?
Makishima-san: The jam tasted rich and sweet in the lightly textured bread. It’s some kind of berry flavor or a mixture of two flavor, I think.
Monchi-kun: It was extremely sweet. I got some grease on my hands.
Sugi-san: It was sweet and really delicious. There was quite a lot of jam.
“So… no one wrote that they tasted mustard.”
“Yeah. Basically…”
Realizing where his words were going, Kengo clammed up.
I knew what he was about to say after the word “basically”. That almost certainly disproved the idea that the person who took the hit did not notice as such. If someone from the Newspaper Club did take the hit, that person was cognizant of that, and wrote down a lie to hide it.
The Newspaper Club members exchanged glances across the big table. From earlier, there had been an atmosphere of slight distrust that was trumped by confusion, but it evaporated. The four clubmates were now staring at each other with direct suspicion in their eyes.
Makishima-san lit the spark.
“We knew from the beginning that Pfannkuchen is sweet, didn’t we?”
She was implying that Monchi-kun, who hadn’t written down a concrete description of the taste, was lying. But that criticism did not only apply to him. Sugi-san sharply raised her head and snapped.
“I only wrote that it was delicious because I thought it was delicious!”
Having received a rebuttal from an unexpected angle, Makishima-san winced.
“I wasn’t talking about you, Sugi.”
But Monchi-kun did not let that statement go.
“If you’re not talking about Sugi, then who are you talking about, huh? Me?”
He snickered.
“To me, I can’t believe that you can tell that the jam is berry-flavored just by eating one small agepan. Makes me think that you’ve eaten it before.”
The one who suggested writing an article about agepan was Makishima, so it naturally followed that she knew before their research began that the German bakery near school sold agepan. Meaning that it wouldn’t be strange for her to know what it tasted like, and it would be easy for her to pretend she got a regular agepan… That was his argument. It made sense, but did not apply to just Makishima-san.
“Is it that unbelievable? The jam was definitely berry-flavored.”
With his arms folded, Kengo butted in. Sugi-san also chipped in vigorously.
“I also thought it was berry-flavored. I just didn’t write it down.”
She spoke quickly and without hesitation, but it was a poor excuse. As expected, Makishima-san retorted.
“If you thought that, why didn’t you write it down?”
“Because… I didn’t think it was a certainty.”
“Couldn’t you just have written, ‘I think it was berry-flavored’?”
“So you’re saying that I lied? Why would I do something like that!”
Sugi-san was right. She had no motive. But by that logic, the only person whose motive we could guess was Monchi-kun, and going further, it was also possible that Sugi-san told a lie to fan the flames on Monchi-kun and Makishima-san’s dispute, if a bit far-fetched. It was even not entirely impossible that Makishima-san actually hated the Newspaper Club and put on a show to make everyone else wrap themselves in suspicion, eventually leading to its disbandment.
In other words, thinking about motives was just a waste of time. It would be better to steadily narrow down the possibilities, starting from the least likely.
“By the way, the agepan did not contain mustard.”
As soon as I said that, the other four students turned to look at me all at once, their eyes filled with shock. The pleasure of this moment would have crippled me in the past. This time, however, I maintained a frosty demeanor as I set the black bottle I’d been hiding onto the large table with a light clink.
“It was Tabasco. Seba-senpai requested the Home Economics Club to insert mustard into the agepan, but since mustard is not that spicy, they asked Seba-senpai to decide if he wanted mustard or something spicy. Seba-senpai asked them to use something spicy, and they chose Tabasco… it’s extra-spicy, apparently.”
Bewilderment drifted onto the faces of the four Newspaper Club members in four different ways. Eventually, Kengo asked.
“That’s surprising, but… does that change anything?”
“Not much, but we can do a little experiment with the Tabasco I’ve borrowed. I still think there is a non-zero chance that the culprit didn’t notice that they took the hit.”
Raising his eyebrows sharply, Kengo ran his eyes over the four sheets of paper on the big table.
“What do you mean?”
“Taste disorders. There;s the possibility that the culprit cannot detect the taste of Tabasco. If so, it would be a great outcome if we can detect such a disorder early on.”
Makishima-san let out a low groan.
“…To be honest, I never thought about that.”
On the other hand, Monchi-kun was skeptical.
“Everyone felt that it was sweet. Is there even a disorder which prevents someone from tasting only Tabasco?”
I answered frankly.
“I don’t know.”
“Then you…”
“So how about doing the experiment? You’ll have to taste just a bit of Tabasco.”
Sugi-san promptly put on a sour look, but the other three seemed to think that it was better than simply glaring at one another. Some low murmurs flitted across the table.
“…Guess we have no choice.”
“Well, I suppose so.”
“It’s better than leaving it like this.”
Thus, they reached a consensus to try it out.
Kengo stood up and wandered around the room buried in paper, searching for something, but tilted his head after a while, as if he was unable to find whatever he was looking for. Seeing that the other three members weren’t helping him, it seemed that they also didn’t know what he was looking for.
“What are you doing?”
I asked, and Kengo replied while separating a mountain of paper into piles.
“We can’t taste it straight from the bottle. There should be some paper plates around here.”
Makishima-san got ready to stand up.
“You’re right, there should be some paper plates. Where did we put them again?”
Sugi-san instantly replied.
“On top of the fridge.”
Since I was the closest to the fridge, I turned to take a look, and there were indeed some paper plates in their packaging that they were sold as a set in. I moved closer to grab the plates, when I noticed that also placed on the fridge was a wooden tray. It was filled with candy, caramels and chocolates in their individual packaging. A piece of notebook paper was affixed to the tray with sellotape, and written on it in messy writing were the words, “Please place your survey response into this box. Feel free to take these sweets as thanks.”
“Oh? I see some candy over there.”
Kengo answered with a grin.
“Yeah. As it says, they’re a little gift for students who bring in their survey responses.”
“I brought them in, but didn’t get any.”
“Oh, right. Go ahead, take whatever you like.”
I didn’t want any, but I was surprised by how laid-back the Newspaper Club was. After collecting myself, I took four plates and served them to the four members. Also returning to his seat, Kengo picked up the black bottle of Tabasco and studied it with keen interest.
“I see, it does look spicy.”
“The label’s not in English, so I can’t read it.”
“Please keep away from children under twelve.”
I was astonished.
“So you can read it! What language is it?”
Kengo solemnly returned the bottle to the big table.
“I was joking.”
Did I just get completely taken in by Kengo…?
Kengo took the lead and added a drop of Tabasco to his plate. He then passed the bottle, and before long, the preparations were complete. Sugi-san leaned forward towards her plate and sniffed at it.
“…It smells really intense.”
Imitating Sugi-san, the other three brought their faces close to the liquid. In no time at all, Makishima-san choked and turned away. After a bout of coughing, she spoke, her breathing ragged.
“You’re right. It’s harsh.”
“Is the smell that strong?”
I asked, but it was not out of curiosity. Kengo understood the meaning behind my question.
“Of course, since we brought our faces so close to smell it. However, I don’t have much confidence that I can tell if this was in the Pfannkuchen by smell. During the taste test, no one sniffed at it so intently… well, if someone did that, the powdered sugar would get into their nose.”
I thought it could be a clue, but that didn’t quite work out.
Sugi-san was close to tears.
“Are we going to taste this…”
Monchi-kun had a somewhat strained face, but replied emphatically.
“We’ll continue feeling frustrated if we don’t. Let’s just get this over with.”
However, it was deemed too bad-mannered to stick out one’s tongue and lick a plate, so the Newspaper Club members decided to scoop the Tabasco with a finger, as chefs usually do, and thus they went out to wash their hands.
I was worried that I would have to taste the Tabasco myself, but no one had told me to share their pain yet. For now, I should just put on an innocent face.
The four students returned from the toilet and sat in their chairs. This being an experiment, I should tell them some points they should be aware of.
“This is what the Home Economics Club member said, but be careful not to let it get into your eyes. It is also dangerous to touch your eyes with the finger that came into contact with Tabasco.”
Sugi-san muttered again.
“Do we really have to taste this…?”
She’d imagined she would just be having fun playing a simple game involving German-style agepan, but was suddenly thrust into a situation in which she had to taste extra-spicy Tabasco. Considering her state of mind made me feel so sorry that I was at a loss for words.
Kengo took a deep breath.
“Right, let’s do this all at once. Jougorou, give us the signal.”
I wondered why I should be the one to give the signal, but Kengo probably decided that instead of being too pushy, he should let an outsider do it. Sugi-san would hate me for it, though. I raised my hand.
“Umm, alright. Get ready!”
The four student brought their fingers to their plates at different timings.
“…Go!”
Since I was unable to think of the proper words on the spot, it became a weird shout towards the end. The four scooped the Tabasco with their fingers, and delivered it to their mouths.
Silence fell for a second or two.
Right after that, I heard screams, groans, cries of protest, and witnessed a mixture of sorrow and rage that seemed to say, “Why is this happening to me?”, making me feel thankful that I was not in the midst of that storm. Kengo forcefully cleared his throat, Makishima-san’s face went bright red, Sugi-san cried out in tears, “That’s why I didn’t want to do it!”, and Monchi-kun raced out of the room with pants of “Water, water!” With Makishima-san glaring daggers at me and Sugi-san looking up at me resentfully, I thought that one of them would declare that it would be my turn next, making me want to leave the room and chase after Monchi-kun.
“Wow, this is really spicy!”
Kengo was half-smiling, as if the spicyness had made him go off the rails, and his voice also sounded weird.
“Is it so spicy that you can’t tolerate it?”
“Tolerate? You’re asking if I can tolerate this? Hahaha, Jougorou, it’s impossible!”
I accidentally started laughing out loud, but caught myself and kept it down. On the other hand, Makishima-san grimaced and exclaimed in a voice that barely contained her indignation.
“You’ve got to be kidding! No way the Home Economics Club put that in!”
With tears collected in her eyes, Sugi-san stood up.
“I, I also, water…”
With those words, she tottered out of the club room.
There were three findings from this experiment. First, the Tabasco provided by the Home Economics Club was very, very spicy. Next, there was no one in the Newspaper Club who couldn’t taste that level of spice. Finally, I could say with certainty that we’d gotten a “clear conclusion”. However, this “clear conclusion” went in stark contrast with the facts of this case. No matter how you thought about it, this could not have happened… this agepan case was certainly more complicated than it looked. I folded my arms and tapped my chin with an index finger, then spoke.
“Kengo. It seems that we need to organize the facts of this situation from the beginning. Can I ask you a few questions?”
But Kengo could only fan his tongue with his hand and look up at me with smiling eyes, unable to answer. One more fact was revealed by this experiment – the Home Economics Club’s Tabasco had a long-lasting impact.
4
The two who went to get water returned, and I presumed the investigation would recommence, but Monchi-kun spoke up apathetically.
“Haven’t we had enough? It doesn’t really matter who got it, right? Even if we don’t kick up a fuss over a piece of bread or two, something strange happened. Why don’t we just say, ‘That’s weird’ and move on?”
He had a point, but Makishima-san who did the planning for the article wouldn’t keep quiet after hearing his suggestion. As expected, she sharply raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but Sugi-san beat her to the punch, her voice loud and shrill.
“Don’t say that now! If you wanted to say something like that, you should have said it before we tasted the Tabasco! If we stop now, what did we go through all that for… that’s just absurd!”
Her eyes were red and her voice was shaking. Indeed, it was now too late to make a judgment to retreat. As the saying goes, if you’ve eaten poison, you should finish the plate.3 Now that everyone had tasted the Tabasco, we should find the truth. I questioned Kengo again.
“Who was the one to suggest writing an article about this agepan?”
I already knew the answer, but I’d only obtained that information during my one-on-one talk with Kengo, which might make the other Newspaper Club members feel uncomfortable, so I intentionally asked that question again. Sensing my intentions, Kengo did not say, “I told you just now, didn’t I?”
“It was Makishima. She found out that a German bakery recently opened near school and that it sells Pfannkuchen, so she brought it up during an editorial meeting.”
What I really wanted to ask was this.
“So why was Seba-senpai the one to collect the agepan?”
It might not be my place to say this, but I thought it a little strange that Seba-senpai, a second-year senior, was running errands for the freshmen’s plans.
“As you know, senpai didn’t take part in this project because he can’t handle spicy food. He apparently felt apologetic because he would become increasingly unable to show his face in club with his live performance soon approaching. He said to at least let him make up for that, and offered to pick up the Pfannkuchen for us.”
Makishima-san cut in.
“He might be a careless person, but he’s good at taking care of others. He’s always supporting us.”
Kengo nodded.
“Yeah. Whenever we’re stuck on writing an article, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing to advise us. We’ve been trained by him.”
I swept over the other students with my gaze, but neither Monchi-kun nor Sugi-san had any change to their countenance. Of course, I couldn’t say for sure, but they didn’t seem to harbor any antipathy towards Seba-senpai.
If so, I should check the details of the situation, step by step. First, let’s determine how the agepan were moved.
“Senpai went to the bakery after school and came back with the agepan, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Do we have anything to corroborate that?”
Monchi-kun retorted bitterly from the side.
“What do you mean, corroborate? If senpai didn’t collect it, how did the bread turn up here?”
“Well, it’s just to make sure. He could have received them yesterday, for example. I want to clarify whatever can be clarified.”
Kengo shook his head.
“Seba-senpai made an appointment to collect the agepan today. It’s a prototype, so the bakery won’t be making it every day.”
“Do the people at the bakery recognize Seba-senpai?”
“They know. When Seba-senpai, Makishima and I went to interview them, Seba-senpai told them that he would be coming over again to collect the agepan.”
So there was no room for doubt that Seba-senpai went to collect the agepan from the German bakery. They were packed in a paper bag, and that was placed in a plastic bag for ease of carrying. He went to the Home Economics Club’s room at four o’clock in the afternoon to get mustard into an agepan, as per his request, but it was filled with Tabasco instead.
In the Home Economics Club’s room, Seba-senpai moved all the agepan onto a plate. The paper bag and plastic bag that had been used to transport the agepan were discarded in the trash can. Senpai then brought the plate holding the bread into the Newspaper Club’s room, where it still sat atop the big table.
There was one point I didn’t get.
“…Why did Seba-senpai move all the agepan onto a plate? I don’t think it would have been that difficult to eat them from the paper bag.”
Kengo looked at me quizzically for a moment, then answered nonchalantly.
“So they were initially in a paper bag, huh. It’s probably for the sake of photography, then.”
Photography, huh.
“You took pictures of the agepan?”
“Yeah, of course, since we’re doing a report. Senpai considered that it would be difficult to get a good pictures when they’re all in a paper bag.”
“Did you take the pictures with a camera?”
I asked, and Kengo’s face fell.
“We really should have, since it’s a small column and our papers are monochrome. But instead we used a mobile phone camera.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier!”
That was a line I always wanted to say, and I certainly never expected that I would be able to say it today.
“Right, sorry, it slipped my mind. You want to see them?”
“Of course.”
Kengo retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket and put up some images on the screen.
The first image was of the large table that held the plate of agepan, the second depicted four agepan on a plate, while the third also showed the agepan, but taken a little more close-up.
Basically, the only photos were that of agepan.
“I thought… you know… there would be some that can be used as a clue… like the moment you ate the agepan!”
“I ate at the same time as everyone else. How do you expect me to take a photo of that?”
“You’re absolutely right, but…”
It can be said that those photos allowed us to confirm that there were four agepan on the plate, and that it was difficult to tell which agepan contained Tabasco just by looking at it, but those were facts that we already knew.
“When did you take these photos?”
“Right before the taste test.”
Seba-senpai had already left at that point in time.
Was there something else that happened until “right before the taste test?” The next course of action would be to check what the four Newspaper Club members were doing.
“Who was the first to enter this room?”
I asked, and Monchi-kun replied in a contemptuous voice.
“You should know, it was me. I was the first to arrive, so I unlocked the room, and I was here the entire time writing an article.”
“Yes, you did say that. What time were you here from?”
“Past 3:30, I think.”
Homeroom would usually end at that time, so that meant Monchi-kun came here right after his classes ended for the day.
“You also met Seba-senpai, right?”
“Yep.”
A slight grin drifted onto Monchi-kun’s face as he leaned back against the folding chair.
“I was surprised when he suddenly tapped my shoulder.”
“What time was that?”
“I don’t remember. I didn’t look at the clock while writing my manuscript.”
“Seba-senpai was holding the plate with the agepan, right?”
“…No, the plate was already on the table. He pointed at it and said, ‘I’ve brought them.’”
Kengo asked.
“You were working on the three-paragraph article from last week, right? Were you having a hard time with it?”
“Yeah, I had a bit of trouble with the writing style, but it’s finished.”
I wanted to ask, “Is there anyone who can testify that you were always in this room?”, but Monchi-kun’s alibi wasn’t a problem, and I could see that there would be a commotion if I posed such a question. I decided to let it slide.
“Who was the next to enter this room?”
Sugi-san raised her hand slightly.
“Me.”
“Do you remember what time it was when you came in?”
“Exactly 4:15.”
I did ask that question myself, but how did she know…
“You remembered the precise time?”
“That’s what I’m good at.”
For the first time, Sugi-san let out a smile.
“I also met Seba-senpai. We passed each other at the door. I said, ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’ and he said, ‘I just arrived.’”
“Did he say anything else?”
“He also said, ‘I’ll be going to the live performance. Sorry that I can’t stick around.’ That’s all.”
Kengo cut in.
“That would be right after he talked with Monchi-kun, right?”
“Probably. After that, I noticed some survey responses in the collection box on the table, so I took some of them from the top and sat down to read.”
I asked, just in case.
“You sat down at the chair Kengo is currently sitting down in, right?”
It was the chair closest to the entrance.
“Yes, over there.”
“Thanks. After that?”
Sugi-san nodded.
“After skimming through the responses for two or three minutes, I noticed the Pfannkuchen, so I cleared the table to make it better for a photo.”
“You didn’t take a photo at that time?”
“No. I thought it would be better to wait for everyone to be here.”
So the first to enter the room was Monchi-kun. After that, Seba-senpai arrived, followed by Sugi-san, and Seba-senpai left. What happened next?
“The next person to enter the room was…”
“Me.”
Makishima-san answered in a somewhat dissatisfied tone.
“Do you remember at what time you arrived?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
It was a negligent way of speaking, but not remembering the time could be considered to be normal. If I had to choose, Sugi-san’s clear answer was the strange one.
“Monchi and Sugi were in the club room, but I didn’t see senpai.”
That was consistent with all the testimony so far.
“Did anything happen after you entered the room?”
“Hmm…”
Makishima-san mulled over my question for a while.
“A short first-year girl came over to hand in her survey response, and I received it. That’s all, I suppose.”
…Could that be Osanai-san?
“I thanked her and said that we were giving out snacks, but she said she didn’t need any.”
“Not her, huh.”
“Eh? What?”
“Sorry, just talking to myself. What did you do with the sheet of paper?”
“Sugi moved the collection box away, so I passed it to her and asked her to put the response in.”
I looked at Sugi-san, and she gave a light nod. Was there really a collection box somewhere in this fortress of paper? Kengo had told me to place my class’ answers anywhere, but was that really fine…
“Where is that box now?”
I asked Sugi-san.
“It’s behind Doujima-kun.”
She replied. Kengo hurriedly whirled around, and picked up a box casually sitting atop a pile of documents resting against the wall.
“So that’s where it was.”
The term “collection box” made me think that it had a lid, but it seemed more like a repurposed cardboard box for Japanese confectionery. It was relatively big but not very deep, and the survey responses within looked close to overflowing.
“Did anything else happen?”
Makishima-san shook her head to answer my question.
“The last one to arrive was Kengo, right?”
I asked just to be sure. Kengo stopped looking around and nodded.
“Yeah.”
“What time was it?”
“I remember it being a few minutes before 4:30. I don’t know the exact time. When I arrived, the other three were already in, and the plate of agepan was on the table. I took some pictures, and then we ate them.”
I didn’t need to ask what happened next. The four of them glanced furtively at each other with bated breath to see who would declare that they took the hit, but no one did so. Soon after, I arrived.
Now, I’d asked all that I could about the Newpaper Club members’ movements. But what did it all mean… As I fell silent, Kengo let out a small groan.
“Doesn’t seem like there’s anything out of place.”
Was that really so?
I considered for a moment, then said to no one in particular.
“Is it possible to get in contact with Seba-senpai?”
For some reason everyone turned to look at Makishima-san, and she answered.
“It should be impossible now. He turns off his phone before a live performance.”
“Is that so…”
“Did you want to ask him something?”
“It would be great if I could ask him some questions, but more importantly, you seem to know Seba-senpai well, Makishima-san.”
I said, and she smiled shyly.
“We live nearby. I’m usually the one to contact him.”
“Something like childhood friends, I suppose. So, you usually don’t address him as ‘senpai’?”
“Yes, but… is this related?”
I waved my hand.
“No. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask such an intrusive question.”
Given that we couldn’t obtain Seba-senpai’s testimony, I had no choice but to make a deduction based on the materials gathered in this room. My intuition told me that it was not an impossible task. The key probably lay in the hands of Iida-kun, the other first-year student.
“Seba-senpai knows that Iida-kun wasn’t participating, right?”
Iida-kun was a first-year ghost member of the Newspaper Club who might not even show up once a week. Kengo had consulted him on whether he would be participating in this project, and he had answered in the negative. Makishima-san replied in a strangely eager manner.
“Yup, he knew. I sent him an email about it.”
“Just to confirm, you sent an email to Seba-senpai saying, ‘Iida-kun will not be taking part in the taste test, so you can just get four agepan.’ Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Was there any transmission error or something like that?”
“That normally doesn’t happen.”
No, no, it does happen. That was what I wanted to say, but Kengo supplemented her statement.
“I was also there, and she asked me to look through her email before sending it. I forgot the exact wording, but Makishima did send an email saying that Iida wasn’t participating. This club room also has good reception, and we’ve never had a transmission error sending an email from a mobile phone here. There’s no doubt that the email reached senpai.”
I’d decided to assume Kengo’s declarations to be true regarding today’s incident. I nodded silently, and Makishima-san continued.
“He even replied, though it was at night.”
“What did he say?”
“Understood.”
“Is that it? Was there anything before or after that?”
Makishima-san frowned.
“I don’t know, I can’t remember, and I can’t look at it now because I left my phone at home. Is the wording important?”
Was it? Was the contents of Seba-senpai’s email important, or not?
…No, there were other important points.
I kept silent, causing Makishima-san to display her ire. With her face red, she opened her mouth, but against my expectations, she averted her gaze.
“…By the way, it might be a little late, but can I say something?”
Those words were not directed at me, but at the other Newspaper Club members. Monchi-kun asked, “What?” in a perplexed manner, and Makishima-san murmured.
“Actually, when I was eating that, I spaced out because I was thinking about something. I’ve kept quiet about it because it was difficult to bring up, but I might’ve been the one who took the hit… or rather, since everyone else didn’t take the hit, I was the one who got it, I think.”
That was quite the sudden confession. Sugi-san and Monchi-kun let out cries of surprise, but as expected, Kengo stayed collected.
“That can’t be, Makishima. Weren’t you the one who wrote the most detailed description of the taste just now? It doesn’t make sense that you were spaced out.”
“That’s…”
Monchi-kun sent a frightful glare towards the stammering Makishima-san.
“It’s because she’s eaten it before. That’s exactly what I thought!”
Makishima-san looked down and didn’t say anything, but Sugi-san stepped in.
“You don’t know that. Makki, explain properly!”
“It’s no use, I knew she was suspicious from the beginning.”
“What are you talking about? The suspicious one is you! Didn’t you want to destroy Makki’s plans?”
“Why would I do something like that? Are you stupid?”
It was a development that Kengo feared. It may have just been a traditional German game involving agepan, but the conflicts lurking under the surface of the Newspaper Club had reared their ugly heads. Would I be in time now? If I could point at whoever took the hit, would I be able to answer to Kengo’s expectations and prevent the Newspaper Club from disintegrating?
…But truth be told, I didn’t have much interest in what happened to the Newspaper Club!
I’d gathered all the information I thought I would need. So, who ate the Tabasco-filled agepan?
Was it Doujima Kengo?
Or Monchi Jouji?
Makishima Midori?
Sugi Sarako?
Iida?
Seba-senpai?
The Home Economics Club member?
Or Jougorou Kobato? To set things straight, I did not.
Or did some mysterious being that came from nowhere in particular eat it?
I could determine the truth behind this case.
Anyone with the same information on hand should be able to solve it as well.
5
“During the taste test, was there really a person who ate the Tabasco-filled agepan but hid that fact with malicious intent?
But the question I’d spared no effort to craft melted in the discord that enveloped the Newspaper Club room – or to phrase it differently, no one was listening. Even Doujima Kengo, who had brought the problem to me in the first place, wasn’t looking at me, distracted by Makishima-san’s and Doujima-kun’s quarrel.
I don’t like clearing my throat. It is an act that exists only to draw attention to oneself, which makes me dislike it on principle. But this time, I had no choice. Putting all my strength into my bronchial tube, I cleared my throat.
Kengo turned around.
“You okay, Kobato? Did you choke on some Tabasco?”
I’d unintentionally made him worry. Stifling the feeling of remorse welling up inside, I waved a hand and rephrased my earlier question.
“Ah, umm, so I was thinking, perhaps no one ate the Tabasco-filled agepan during the taste test?”
“What!”
Kengo roared, causing the other three to look at us.
“No way that could happen. Didn’t you go to the Home Economics Club and confirm that they did put Tabasco in one of them?”
“Yeah.”
“Yet you’re saying that no one out of us four ate the lucky agepan?”
“That’s right.”
“But that doesn’t make sense!”
I was happy that he’d reacted as I expected him to. Makishima-san, Monchi-kun and Sugi-san focused their sceptical eyes on me and kept silent, probably wondering what I would say next. I let out a short laugh.
“You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. But it makes even less sense that someone took the hit during the taste test. It’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Why, you say?”
Kengo might not be a person rich in imagination, but he shouldn’t be completely dense. Yet he’d asked such a question, but perhaps he was too preoccupied with the Newspaper Club’s future. I raised my voice and answered.
“There’s no way anyone can taste such spicy Tabasco, put on a calm face and pretend that they didn’t take the hit, right?”
Apparently really not having made that connection, a shocked expression appeared on Kengo’s face, even though he of all people had admitted that he couldn’t tolerate it.
Unexpectedly, Sugi-san threw out a rebuttal.
“Sure, the Tabasco was insanely spicy, but someone determined to withstand it could swallow the agepan without chewing, and by doing that they might be able to feign ignorance.”
I shook my head.
“That’s also not possible. Up till the point I went to the Home Economics Club to ask them about the situation, the only person who knew that one agepan contained Tabasco was the person responsible for it, or the Home Economics Club guy who put in the Tabasco. The four of you, and even Seba-senpai, were under the impression that the lucky agepan contained mustard. If someone prepared themselves for mustard which is not very spicy, but got Tabasco in their mouth instead…”
Monchi-kun nodded, seemingly convinced.
“They wouldn’t be able to take it. That’s impossible.”
On the other hand, Kengo raised his eyebrows.
“It’s like bracing yourself for getting slapped in the face, but getting punched in the gut. Now that you mention it, if someone took the hit, their face would naturally give them away… but what does this mean? Where did the lucky agepan go? Who ate it?”
Sugi-san murmured.
“When was it eaten? Monchi-kun was here the whole time.”
Monchi-kun tilted his head.
“In the first place, what did they eat? There were only four pieces of bread.”
They were all valid questions. There were a few walls before we could get to the obvious conclusion that no one ate the lucky agepan during the taste test. However, I didn’t consider those walls to be insurmountable.
The events that transpired seemed weird and inexplicable, but that was due to imperfect testimony. Silence, lies and consideration made the story more complicated than it should be. If we could gradually peel off the layers of imperfection from the testimony, the truth would naturally come to light.
I’d already thought it through. The question now was how to explain it in words.
“First, let us consider the opportunities for that to happen.”
I began while staring at the plate on the large table.
“A Tabasco-filled agepan existed, but it did not exist during the taste test. So, it must have been taken away from the plate before the taste test started. The plate of agepan was always there, and Monchi-kun was in the room. Could anyone have stolen it without being noticed by him?”
In a corner of the club room stood a table by the window. Monchi-kun had been writing an article there.
“Kengo did mention it earlier, but could you tell me again how you were sitting, Monchi-kun?”
He let out a dissatisfied sound, but stood up from his seat without much reluctance and faced the table in question. He pulled over a nearby chair and sat down, such that his body was horizontal to the room’s entrance.
The other three Newspaper Club members groaned.
“I wonder… the door was open, right?”
“So the question is whether he would notice someone approaching from the side, huh.”
“Under normal circumstances they would make a sound…”
With his arms folded, Kengo asked Monchi-kun.
“What do you feel? Would you be able to notice someone coming in?”
“Course I would.”
He answered, but his words were lacking in conviction. But perhaps that was to be expected, because he knew what had actually happened.
“Thank you.”
I said, prompting Monchi-kun to return to his seat. I placed a hand on the big table.
“By the way, do you remember what Monchi-kun said about Seba-senpai entering the room?”
The other three members nodded in unison.
“Alright. So, Seba-senpai’s plan was a complete success, and Monchi-kun was surprised… in other words, he didn’t notice Seba-senpai. The assertion that Monchi-kun would have definitely noticed someone coming into the room cannot be said to be valid. If someone creeps into the room it is possible that Monchi-kun wouldn’t notice, and even if they approach normally, he might not know, depending on the circumstances.”
Kengo immediately retorted.
“But the agepan was not yet in the room during the time period when only Monchi was present.”
He was right. Since Sugi-san entered the room as Seba-senpai was leaving, there was no situation where Monchi-kun was alone in the room with the agepan. However…
“If Monchi-kun didn’t notice a visitor, it isn’t weird to think that Seba-senpai didn’t notice either.”
“Jougorou, isn’t this line of logic irrational? It’s more natural to think that the probability of noticing someone would increase with two people rather than one.”
Sugi-san also piped up.
“Also, when I arrived and passed senpai at the entrance, he said, ‘I just arrived.’ The amount of time when only Monchi-kun and senpai were in the room should be very small. I was sitting in a chair next to the entrance, so it’s impossible for someone to approach the agepan after I got here.”
I could answer their doubts at the same time.
“Even if it’s just for a bit, a gap is a gap… but I don’t think it was that short a period of time. And Kengo, the two of them didn’t become more alert because they were together, but became less alert, don’t you think?”
Kengo and Sugi-san looked doubtful. I brought in front of my face the hand that I’d placed on the big table, and put up my index finger.
“Monchi-kun was writing an article here from half past three. As Kengo mentioned, it was ‘the three-paragraph article from last week’. That seems like a long time, so Kengo asked, ‘Were you having a hard time with it?’ To that, Monchi-kun replied, ‘Yeah, I had a bit of trouble with the writing style.’ and continued with, ‘But it’s finished.’ Basically, Monchi-kun was stuck on an article, but completed it just now. Seba-senpai came into the room while he was writing the article. What kind of person is he?”
In this case, I’d decided to completely trust Kengo’s words and actions. Kengo had spoken about it earlier.
“‘Whenever we’re stuck on writing an article, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing to advise us.’ Right, Kengo?”
Someone produced an “Ah”.
“Monchi-kun received Seba-senpai’s advice about the article’s writing style. During that time, the two of them were talking face-to-face. Do you remember Sugi-san mention that there were two chairs next to that desk? Just a conjecture, but I think Seba-senpai also sat down to help Monchi-kun with his article.”
I stopped to look at Monchi-kun. Kengo, Sugi and Makishima were also staring at him. Being at the center of attention, Monchi-kun brazenly shrugged.
“Yeah, I got advice from senpai. I didn’t say it because I thought it was obvious.”
Was that really so? I could feel pride from each word he said. Could that pride have gotten in the way, and stopped him from mentioning that he got help from a senior when he was unable to write his article? That was just a conjecture and did not have any bearing on finding the truth, so I decided to keep quiet about it.
Now for the important point.
“In other words, the word ‘just’ from the phrase Sugi-san heard, ‘I just arrived’ didn’t mean a few seconds ago, but a rough expression for the few minutes it took to advise Monchi-kun with his article… So, how long was it actually?”
I asked Monchi-kun, but he responded in a slapdash manner.
“I dunno. About five minutes, maybe?”
“Both you and Seba-senpai might not have noticed anyone coming into the room during those five minutes. Is it fair to say that?”
That was quite a mean-spirited question to ask. Since it had already been pointed out that Monchi-kun had not noticed Seba-senpai’s entrance, he couldn’t answer that he would have noticed someone else walking in.
“Senpai was earnestly giving me advice, so I was earnestly listening. You can think whatever you want of that.”
He answered in a disgruntled tone.
Thus, it was proven that there existed a period of time during which the agepan were not paid attention to.
“Now, about the quantity.”
I said, then looked at the plate that held the agepan.
“The Home Economics Club member inserted extra-spicy Tabasco into one agepan. Seba-senpai was the one who put this lucky Tabasco-filled agepan on the plate, and the Home Economics Club member did not see how many agepan there were on the plate at that time. On the other hand, there were four agepan on the plate during the taste test, and the lucky one was not among them.”
“But…”
Makishima-san was about to say something, but fell silent. I continued even as I felt sorry for her.
“Basically, we can only consider that senpai did not receive four agepan. He received at least five… but based on the information we’ve gathered thus far, five is the most probable number.”
“I know what you’re trying to say.”
Kengo said sullenly.
“There’s one more first-year Newspaper Club member, Iida. If his share was included, senpai would have received five agepan. But Seba-senpai should have known that he wasn’t participating. You’re saying it was a simple mistake?”
“The chances of that are not zero, but before we get to that, your phrasing is a little imprecise. All you saw was that an email to Seba-senpai saying that Iida-kun wouldn’t be taking part in the taste test was sent. That doesn’t equate to Seba-senpai knowing about it. The email could have been dropped, or he could have decided to read it later.”
“Hang on.”
Sugi-san spoke out in a small, sharp voice.
“Makki… Makishima-san should have gotten a reply from senpai.”
“You’re right, she did say something like that.”
She’d mentioned that she received a one-word message saying, “Understood” from Seba-senpai. However… I was about to make a rebuttal, but it was a little hard to say aloud. I scratched my cheek and looked in another direction.
“But no one saw that reply except for Makishima-san.”
Makishima-san’s face turned red in an instant.
“Hey, what are you saying! You mean, that I…”
I could only feign ignorance here.
“Did you perhaps mistake someone else’s email for that one? It happens all the time.”
Not giving her a chance to reply, I pressed on.
“If you mistakenly thought that an email from Seba-senpai from arrived, but he hadn’t actually read your email, the situation would be simple. Seba-senpai thought that in the off chance that Iida-kun showed up, it would be sad for him to not have an agepan, so he asked for five of them. Tabasco was inserted into one of those agepan, and it disappeared during the time before the taste test.”
“…Right!”
Makishima-san abruptly exclaimed.
“Right, at that time, I was also communicating with my older brother. I asked him to do some shopping, so that ‘Understood’ might have been his reply!”
“Seba-senpai was also probably nervous since it was right before his live performance. He can’t be blamed for not noticing an email. We could have checked if you had your mobile phone. What a shame.”
“You’re right. Ah, I messed up.”
With those words, Makishima-san hung her head weakly.
Great.
Makishima-san was not a person with good acting skills, so the other three might have understood the situation. Basically, Makishima-san’s email was ignored by Seba-senpai. I didn’t know if the preparations for his live performance made him too busy, or if there was some kind of conflict between Makishima-san and Seba-senpai. However, as someone who acknowledged herself to be a childhood friend of Seba-senpai and took on the role to liaise with him, that was probably something she didn’t want others to know about.
Earlier, she’d suddenly blurted out that she could be the one who had taken the hit. Could she have done that because she’d noticed a possible reason for why no one admitted that they took the hit was that there were five agepan? If the investigation continued, the number of agepan would eventually come into question, and her testimony that she’d received a reply from Seba-senpai would come under doubt. Was her confession for the sake of bringing that problem to a close?
Makishima-san had, without a second’s thought, jumped onto my suggestion that the supposed existence of a reply was due to a common mistake. Was her perceived closeness with Seba-senpai that important to her?
In any case, I didn’t have much interest in the complexities of human relationships.
“Well, anyway…”
Pulling myself together, I continued on.
“We should assume that there were five agepan.”
“There were five agepan, and there was a period of time during which they were not guarded. So, who ate it?”
Kengo folded his arms, while Sugi-san peeked at the others’ expressions. Monchi-kun sulked and kept silent. Makishima-san’s face was still slightly red.
I’d been asked by Kengo about who had eaten the lucky agepan. The investigation up to this point was just prep work to answer that question.
“Even if Monchi-kun and Seba-senpai were completely focused on the manuscript, it is definite that the two of them stayed in the room during that time, though they did not see the person who ate the agepan, or at least took it away from the plate. In other words, he or she acted without calling out to either of the two.”
I paused for a moment so that everyone could digest my words, before carrying on.
“By the way, the four of you here knew that the agepan were to be used in a taste test for the purpose of writing an article. However, it makes no sense that either of the two people in the room secretly ate a piece without saying anything just because there were five on the plate. It is not impossible, but it is very illogical for them to do so.”
I’d postulated that the culprit had some reason to their actions. It was also difficult to imagine that Sugi-san or Makishima-san would stealthily snack on one behind Monchi-kun and Seba-senpai’s backs.
…But to be precise, Makishima-san had a motive for such an action. Everyone would notice the breakdown in communication between her and Seba-senpai if there were five agepan, so she could cover up that bit of carelessness by hiding one piece. However, if she’d done that, she would have instantly recognized that the hidden agepan was the lucky one when no one admitted to taking the hit during the taste test. At that point, she would have had to pretend that she’d taken the hit to conceal the truth. Yet she’d only tried to confess long after the taste test, proving that she had not hidden one agepan before the taste test.
“That certainly doesn’t make sense.”
Kengo said gravely.
“Have you noticed it, Kobato?”
“Noticed what?”
“There are no more suspects.”
I knew he would say that.
“What about Iida?”
Monchi-kun muttered without confidence.
“It can’t be him. I was talking with him for a while in the classroom. The timing makes it impossible.”
That suggestion was dismissed by Kengo.
But did it mean that there were no more suspects? No, that wasn’t so.
“Kengo, what state was the plate of agepan in after it was placed in this room, during the five-minute gap when Monchi-kun was consulting Seba-senpai about his article?”
Kengo raised his eyebrows in surprise, then unfolded his arms and pointed at the plate on the big table.
“It was like this. That plate was not moved since the taste test started. Of course, there were Berliners on it during the time period you’re asking about.”
“That’s wrong.”
“…Huh?”
I slowly moved towards the fridge.
“The plate of agepan only reached that state after the five-minute gap. That is because Sugi-san, who passed by Seba-senpai on the way in, cleaned up the table for the purpose of taking a good photo of the agepan.”
As her name was mentioned, Sugi-san trembled.
“Eh? Did I do something wrong…”
“Of course not. You did nothing wrong at all.”
It certainly wasn’t wrong, but her casual act had complicated the situation. I picked up the small tray filled with candy and caramels resting atop the fridge and returned to the big table.
“During the five-minute gap, before Sugi-san cleared the table, the plate of agepan was like this.”
I put down the tray.
It was near the plate, and still had the note attached to it.
“So that’s why!”
Kengo exclaimed.
“Exactly. The tray with this note was next to the plate… Kengo, could you pass me the survey collection box?”
“Sure.”
After receiving the box, I placed it next to the tray.
That caused a stir among the other three, though they were a beat late.
“Not only Newspaper Club members come into this room. For example, I came here, and Makishima-san met another female student. Both she and I entered this room for the sake of handing in responses for the survey you distributed. And there is no reason to believe that only two people would do such a thing.”
Written on the note was this – “Please place your survey response into this box. Feel free to take these sweets as thanks.”
“While Monchi-kun was talking about his article with Seba-senpai, someone came into the room to hand in their survey response, but found it difficult to call out to them because they looked busy. They looked around to see the note telling them to place their survey response into the box, and did exactly so.”
Sugi-san said that she had cleaned up the table, while Makishima-san mentioned that Sugi-san had moved the collection box away. In other words, the collection box was on the table before Sugi-san cleared it.
Pasted to the tray of a sweets was a note instructing students to put their survey responses into the collection box. This meant that the tray and box were close to each other, and had to both be on the table.
While Monchi-kun and Seba-senpai were in the midst of their discussion, on the table were the survey collection box, the tray of sweets with its affixed note, and the plate of agepan.
“That person read, ‘Feel free to take these sweets as thanks’, so they freely ate – one of the agepan next to the message, that is. The culprit was an outsider.”
At the beginning, when I was about to investigate the possibility of the culprit being someone from outside the Newspaper Club, I was met with three opposing reasons from the members of the Newspaper Club. First, that there was always someone in the room. Second, that there were only four agepan. And third, that an outsider eating an agepan without permission defies common sense. However, after listening to testimony and doing further investigation, those three reasons had collapsed.
Monchi-kun’s silence, Makishima-san’s lie and Sugi-san’s consideration had distorted the situation bit by bit, turning it into a complex mystery. After sorting them all out, the truth behind what happened became clear.
“…Oh my god.”
Kengo murmured.
“So an unrelated student got their hands on the Tabasco-filled Berliner. Isn’t that too unlucky? It’s a one in five chance.”
“Yeah, he or she was unlucky. This was an accident.”
“Even if you call it an accident… oi, what will we do?”
That last question was not directed at me, but at the other Newspaper Club members.
“W-What should we do?”
“What if we make a school-wide announcement? Tell them not to eat it.”
“It’s too late, isn’t it? That was an hour ago.”
With a sideward glance at the Newspaper Club, who were, in their state of panicked frenzy, displaying a solidarity I hadn’t seen from them before, I thought about the unknown outsider. What a pity, when they’d just come to submit their survey response. It was probably a person who hardly drew attention in class, just like me. They caught sight of the agepan, but did not eat it there and instead brought it home. It would be great if they hadn’t eaten it yet, but if they had…
They must have gotten quite a shock. They would undoubtedly have had no idea what hit them at the start. After a bout of choking, they would have run to get water. Their lips might have gotten red and swollen. If so, they would have opened a window to get some air and try to relieve the swelling. Their speech would be slurred for a while. And just perhaps…
“Ah.”
“What, you figured out something?”
Kengo asked, his countenance the very definition of solemnity. I hurriedly waved my hands.
“No, it’s nothing. Nothing at all. Just that the person who came to hand in their survey response…”
“What about them? Spit it out.”
Instinctively, I swallowed my saliva. The person with their voice slurred would have stood silently in front of a window, and…
“…They were probably in tears, I think.”
“What nonsense.”
Kengo muttered, a frown on his face.
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Assistants (Tier 1) : Rolando Sanchez
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- The title of this story kept changing because I didn’t know it was referring to a description rather than the name of the bread. On a slightly related note, Pfannkuchen is a misnomer because it literally means “pancake”, but people from Berlin decided to call it that for some reason. A more accurate term used by other German speaking people is Berliner Bollen, which was previously in the title of this story. An agepan is atype of deep-fried bread, often coated with sugar, cinnamon, or kinako (soybean flour).
- Editor-in-chief in Japanese is 編集長, or henshuuchou.
- Meaning “In for a penny, in for a pound”.