---

---

"So, is whale tasty?"
She’d already adapted to the ear-widening, and now, without addressing anyone in particular, she was searching for taste reviews.
........
"It has a distinct flavor, y'know. I quite like it, myself."
.........
The fact that those impressions aren't contradictory... I guess that's what makes humans interesting.
As if resetting herself, Natane tied her back hair with an elastic band and narrowed her eyes.
"The idea that we shouldn't eat them because they're highly intelligent... I think that hits the mark pretty well, y'know."
......... I don't possess any philosophy, so I stayed silent. Suddenly, something projected from near the entrance caught the edge of my vision. I glanced over and saw Touka peering into the room. She was staring intently with a peculiar expression at Natane and Akane curled up on her lap. When she realized I'd noticed her, she quickly disappeared.
"It's a bit embarrassing to talk about fairy tales at my age, but... if rabbits could talk and converse with humans, wouldn't people stop thinking about eating them?"

"...Yeah, probably." I think I read a novel like that once.
"That's because they have intelligence, so we don't prey on them, right? Can't we say the same thing here?"
With that, Natane finished her educational guidance for Akane, pointing at the TV. Was that whole thing just a grand monologue? Or maybe Natane has a special ability to communicate with people through the TV? Was some plot development meant solely to leave me behind waiting? Or rather, shouldn't I first be outraged and demand they request help from that old guy whose face looks like an iron mask? This still has the flavor of a lie.
"But it seems like there are various other circumstances involved with this. Besides, I hear whales aren't actually *that* smart," I said, trying to determine if this was actually a conversation.
"Oh, is that so? I apologize for being out of touch with the world," she apologized. To the TV, of course. She wouldn't do something as nonsensical as bowing her head to me.
"So, Natane, you tend to think about things by running backward from 'normal,' don't you?" People whose thought processes aimed straight for the reverse side of things popped up in this town with surprising frequency, so it wasn't particularly rare, though.
"Ah, friends started saying that back in middle school, y'know. Kiyoshi often praises me for it too, saying that's what he likes about me."
She was bragging about her husband. It's ecstatic when you do it yourself, but infuriating when others do it – the typical behavior of one half of a stupid couple. That's a lie, though.
"Heyyy, Natane." Eyes still closed, Akane exaggeratedly opened and closed her mouth.
"Yes, what is it?"
"I'm hungry."
Unaffected by the atmosphere, Akane casually expressed her desire. Normally, Natane might have given her some prosciutto, a bone, or gum from the fridge right about now. The servant gave a wry smile at the young lady's peaceful selfishness and offered a joking rebuke.

"You silly girl, honestly," she said, touching Akane's cheek. Then, "Right now, food is very precious, you see. We can't buy more even with piles of money, so we have to be careful and make it last."
"Whaddya mean? Food's for eating when you're hungry! I wanna eat meat!"
"Now!"
Lying face down, Akane started kicking her legs up and down like a child throwing a tantrum.
Natane gave another wry smile as the dust kicked up in agreement. "Yes, yes, I understand, so just sleep and endure it for now, okay?" she coaxed, presenting the 'power of perseverance' argument to quell the complaint.
Akane, too, seemed to resign herself with a "Guess I gotta," snuggling her cheek deeper into Natane's lap pillow and settling into a sleeping position.
"...Hmm."

Watching the two of them, one quiet on the lap, the other accepting it, a thought slipped out.
"You seem quite composed, Natane."
"Um, what do you mean by that?" Natane tilted her head, stroking Akane's hair with her palm.
"The culprit who murdered Keiko and Takahiro hasn't been identified yet. It's wonderful that you aren't suspecting each other." That's a lie, though. I learned somewhere that this is supposedly normal human interaction.
Natane shifted her gaze to the TV. Watching the scene of a whale being captured with narrowed eyes, she asked, "You are... excuse me, what was your name again?"
"Gifu Tarou is fine."
"Tarou-san, are you suspecting us?" Her rising intonation seemed to carry a hint of provocation.
"You're wary of us too, aren't you, Natane?"
"Yes. Kiyoshi has that attitude, so I'm matching him so he won't worry." The wife revealed her own principle of non-wariness, mixing in her husband's element. Though the ratio of truth to falsehood seemed heavily skewed to one side.

"I *don't* trust you guys," Akane declared, her cheek squashed against Natane's thigh. Judging by the brightness of her tone, maybe she meant the opposite?
"I don't suspect you either. I just don't know you well enough to trust you." I directed the first half at Akane, the second half at Natane, transmitting my feelings.
"That's true, isn't it? Kiyoshi, who I've lived with forever, came crying to me yesterday, saying I'm the only one he can trust... but what's the reality, I wonder?" Bragging about him again, Natane operated the remote and changed the channel.
"The culprit is here in the mansion with us, after all."
"I wonder why Ma'am got killed..."
On the TV, a kidnapper and a child chained up in a room were isolated within the CRT screen.
Naturally, I myself was perfectly calm and safe. Or so I pretended.
"Well, actually, in a way, I don't really care about the culprit."
"That's right. I expect a detective will show up, so we can just leave it to them, can't we?"
Hearing that optimism shaved off about sixty percent of my motivation to ask. But the question was already forming, and I didn't want to force it down and have it sit heavy in my stomach, so I managed to spit it out.

"I was just wondering if you weren't scared by the current situation."
Reacting to my words, Natane lowered her chin, her gaze falling on the peach-yellow carpet. Her sorrowful profile, long eyelashes trembling faintly, somehow reminded me of her daughter's pouty expression, hinting at a shared bloodline.
"Scared... perhaps? It's more like I haven't detached myself from the everyday yet. Not drawing any connecting lines, just being carried along, maybe? Somehow, it still hasn't hit me in the gut, you know."
"...Is that how it is?" I feel like I was a victim in the past, so I lack the firsthand experience to understand that reasoning.
To my dry reply, Natane asked, "Is that bad?" while brushing her hair back.
"What I felt wasn't denial, just doubt," I said, smoothing things over. Natane's expression softened.
"If I just panicked all the time, Kiyoshi would worry..." This time, she mixed an embarrassed smile in for appearance's sake as she described their marital relationship. Do Mayu and I behave like this in public, bestowing these kinds of heart-stirring feelings upon those around us? A wave of something like that feeling, minus the emotion and tears, washed over me, so I changed the frequency on my mental radio to drive it away. That is a lie.
"Tarou-san, you're putting on a brave face so Hanako-san over there won't be scared, right?" *Niko!* The housekeeper-like person beamed, completely misjudging one piece of the 'stupid couple'.
"Oh? Was I wrong?" she seemed to read from my eyes, so figuring neither words nor a barcode scanner were needed, I dissolved my specific denial in saliva and swallowed it.
"And more than anything, I have my mission as the one in charge of meals! That's my job, the proper way for me to earn money and fit into the framework of society. Humans can't live if they don't eat. And you can't eat if you don't live. Nothing expresses living more than eating. And that denies death more than anything, doesn't it?" Natane delivered this speech, a crystal of technique supported by enthusiasm – speaking quickly while drawing out the ends of her sentences. I saw a connection between her strange emphasis on food and her physical form, but I preferred the current shape of my ear canals, so I just gave a vague "I see" and let it go.
Fushimi, designated 'Hanako-san' on my lap, was sleeping in a way that promised terrible bedhead, almost completely still. It was less a nap and more like she was dead to the world. Who knows when she'll sleep next, or if she might even sleep eternally – the possibility isn't zero – so for now, let her fully enjoy this slumber from which she might actually awaken, something she probably hasn't experienced in recent memory.
Having decided that, I chose to use the TV and the other person here to kill time.
"What about you? Aren't you scared? About the murders?"

Akane lifted her face – sharp features overall, resembling her mother – shaking her pale hair.
"Mmm, me... I dunno. Maybe things like this just happen? My thoughts are kinda scattered."
It was the kind of statement that could be taken either way – was the meaning reversed, or applied literally?
"My whole world is right here. And since people are here, isn't it okay for stuff to happen, just like in the world on TV?" As if it were just part of a casual chat, Akane flaunted her easy acceptance. She smiled at the scene on screen where the kidnapper and their victim were talking, looking friendly, looking friendly, looking friendly.
"Ah, but it'd be bad if it was Touka. Hmm? Bad... I should just say it'd be bad, right? Yeah, if she disappeared... um, yeah, if she disappeared." Haltingly, she added her concern for the safety of the person she considered within her "family" circle.
Even if Touka *were* the killer, this kid probably wouldn't even flinch. In fact, if Touka was the killer, it would reduce the chance of Touka herself being killed, so Akane might even be happy about it.
"So, that seems to be how it is... To summarize her reasoning, I suppose you could call it optimistic?"
"...Seems that way."
Accepting that, a related point of interest sparked in my mind.
"Natane, why do you work here at this mansion?"
"Hm? Oh, yes. When I was a third-year in high school, Ma'am invited me to come work here." She gave a wry smile. "It saved me from having to job hunt, which was helpful."
"You knew Keiko-san?"
"She was my senior in the Incubation Club back in high school."
"...What kind of club name completely lacks any feeling of youthful vigor?"
"Oh? You don't know it?"
"If I did, I'd praise myself first."
"My, my," Natane responded ambiguously, then explained the club's full activities. "It was a club where we'd read manga and stuff while waiting patiently for eggs to hatch."
"My, my." I'd imagined she was part of some shark-hunting group wearing leaf bikinis and armed with spears.
"Ma'am was an incredibly famous young lady locally, you know. I figured the pay would be good, so I just eagerly followed along."
"Like an imprinted chick." As expected of an Incubation Club member.

---

After that, for about an hour, the two of us 'enjoyed' a detective drama with terrible picture quality, our eyes vacant. Just before the culprit was revealed, Natane left the room to fulfill her duties, saying she had to prepare dinner. As she left, she said, "Sorry, could you watch her?" and placed the sleeping Akane's head onto my free thigh.
......... Can't move." I couldn't even reach the remote lying nearby.
As for which head was heavier, please refrain from asking.

---

Evening, around when the sun began to set.
The mansion remained a locked room, but it couldn't lock away the demands of stomachs.
Eight people gathered in the dining room, half of whom were eating. Despite it being their first nourishment in over twenty hours, hearts didn't seem to leap; no witty, sophisticated conversation flew across the Western-style dining table. Maybe it was because the group lacked any 'foreigner' element? Kouzou, Natane, Kiyoshi, and Touka silently slurped soup with stewed meat. To conserve scarce ingredients, that kind of dish is efficient, as it can be stretched with water. Perhaps everyone was unexpectedly prepared for a long haul.

The eating group probably felt it keenly each time they put a small amount of their stores into their stomachs: *Ah, with this, we draw closer to death again.*
Except for Akane, who had gotten the meat dish she'd requested.
"Anyway, what's with the yukata? Don't tell me you're planning on playing some onsen table tennis, feeling like you're on a nice trip?" Touka, whose gaze met mine, finally delivered this harsh jab. I felt like grumbling that she should say the same thing to her sister [Yuna], but I just shrugged and refrained from making excuses.
That was about the only reaction to my eccentric attire, which deviated from the male image. No comments whatsoever came from the men. Since I had no obligation to bring out a gramophone and liven things up by narrating everyone's sins, I also held back any voluntary remarks and decided to observe quietly.
Fushimi, indulging in an activity other than shoveling food in the facility known as the dining room, was being made to play a handheld game with Akane. Akane had finished eating before anyone else, but since Touka was still eating, she had no opponent, making Fushimi the substitute. At first, Fushimi had been reluctant, not wanting to leave my side, but when I suggested it would be a good break, she nodded with a deeply wrinkled expression and ended up facing Akane. Judging from Akane's cheerful "Onii-chan, you're strong!" – her usual reverse-speak for Fushimi – Fushimi seemed to be suffering a crushing defeat. Unless she gets completely fired up, she looks like someone who wouldn't show even a sliver of intent to win at competitive things, that girl.
Meanwhile, Yuna and I had placed an Othello board on the carpet and were waging a joint war against time with a game involving alternately stacking black and white pieces. Yuna apparently had no appetite. *Saying something so complacent in this situation,* everyone's eyes seemed to say. But it was probably also a big help [saving food].

Fushimi and I, naturally, were skipping dinner. Perhaps because I'd created a friendly atmosphere talking with Natane during the day, she had offered us food once, asking, "Would you like to eat?" She even added, like a mother, "Um, if it's awkward to eat now, you could come to the dining room secretly later, after everyone else is finished..." Her consideration was appreciated, but in another sense, her consideration was thoughtless. Her voice was too loud, and our secret male-female chat was completely audible to everyone around. Inevitably, the master of the house immediately interjected with an "Oi!" so I, being ignorant of etiquette, politely declined, shying away from the upper-class dining table. That's a lie, though. Regardless of that exchange, Fushimi refused the meal, saying, "I feel nauseous." However, the rumbling in her stomach sounded vaguely reminiscent of a long autumn night, suggesting she was embracing a contradiction, like someone too thirsty to swallow anything.
And so, I decided to settle things in black and white with Yuna. Unlike the game console over there putting on a lively performance like street entertainers, here the sounds were self-produced, and the visuals involved us participating as actors. I'm incredibly envious, which might be a lie.
Yuna, holding her breath and suppressing a tremor, placed the forty-third black piece atop the white stack. She carefully peeled her fingers away one by one, succeeding in the maddeningly delicate separation. *Nima!* She gloated at me with a smile that had a certain class but wasn't exactly refined.
........
By our rules, if you couldn't place a piece and decided to fold, you got negative points equal to the number stacked so far. If you tried and collapsed it, you got double the negative points. Positive points didn't exist. It was a game of betting on the status quo, on how not to fall too deep into depravity.
And now, my turn. I pondered deeply what kind of resistance to attempt against the forty-fourth piece.
In the distance, Touka was attempting conversation, at least. Was she talking to Natane?
"Today's tastes a little sour. Did you mess up the seasoning again?"
......... Still thinking.
"Ah, yes. Yesterday's was a bit too bland, so... Does it taste bad?"
"Can't afford to be picky. It's fine."
The conversation over there broke off, and they resumed their psychic training, trying to communicate heart-to-heart solely through the sound of spoons scraping the bottom of plates. The day Esper Kiyoshi is born isn't far off, but since no one will ever be able to get close to him, it's a non-starter. That's a big lie, though.
Perhaps the reason for the lack of a happy family circle was that the optimistic personnel were concentrated over here in the game group. Unable to ventilate the air, the atmosphere over there was stagnant.
"Have you decided between defeat and crushing defeat?" Yuna taunted, careful not to speak over me, her smile impure and smudged.
"Nn... yeah, pretty much."

Without stressing, I placed a white piece on the stack. And easily upset the center of gravity.
It took down another Othello tower we'd built, and the board became a pile of rubble with a sound like shuffling mahjong tiles.
"I knocked it all over, so I lose."
With that declaration of defeat, I put an end to the game that had no set rules. Yuna, having won a clear victory in a match where we'd merely subtracted time from each other, simply rolled her shoulders.
"Right then." I straightened my knees to a half-crouch and offered a simple farewell.
"Well then, please take care of the cleanup."
At my words, not only Yuna but also Fushimi, who had been hunched over concentrating on her screen, sensitively raised her head.
"Isn't it common sense that the loser cleans up?" Yuna asked.
"It's the surviving winner's job to dispose of the loser's corpse."
Precisely because it was such twisted rationale, Yuna readily accepted it with, "I suppose that's true."
I stood up fully and started strolling towards the entrance.
"Oi, where do you think you're going?"
Having been spotted by the sharp-eyed Kouzou, I quickly exited the dining room.
I'd intended to go for a walk alone, incognito, but two people immediately came chasing after me. Well, it's not like I was actually being stealthy anyway.
I turned and waited for the lonely-looking one and the cheerful-looking one to finish their trot.
"Fushimi, and, hmm... nn-ugh?" I squinted at the other one. Pretending to lift imaginary glasses...
"My, my. It seems you're the type who needs a self-introduction every time we meet." Her lips twitched for just an instant. The yukata-clad woman picked up the hem of her sleeve and bowed respectfully.

"Pleased to meet you. I am Jennifer."
"If I recall, you're Sanae Rika, correct?"
Yuna's eyes darted back and forth, caught off guard. Just as I thought, if her brain had as many wrinkles as mine, she'd go with a foreigner name. And apparently, even the names we use on the spur of the moment have similar tendencies.
"Hohoho, you're amusing." The self-proclaimed Jennifer smiled, not hiding her delight and pleasure, as if absorbing the nutrients of laughter from the soles of her feet. Though I feel 'Jefferson' might suit her better. Sorry for the subjective opinion.
"So, what were you—" Yuna started, then seemed to read the fervor next to her. She closed her mouth, yielding the floor.
Fushimi gripped her notebook with both hands and thrust it forcefully toward my eyeballs.
'Where might you be going' '?'

After the gentlemanly tone, I was scolded with a question mark. I don't even understand the explanation for this situation myself, but that's what happens when you faithfully represent unfolding events. She didn't forget to employ her eraser, either.
"What a voice," Yuna remarked, not mockingly, but purely astonished. Fushimi, however, paid no mind to exposing the flaw she herself had defined, glaring up at me with a dangerous look.
'Alone' 'No good'. Looking like she might earn the nickname 'Eraser Girl,' she corrected the page in her notebook again. Was it a warning against leaving Fushimi alone, or an admonishment against me going solo? Surely she wasn't warning me that I'd regret hogging all the experience points later.
"Sorry. We'll stick together from now on," I blurted out, without thinking of the consequences.
With that, the puffiness of Fushimi's cheeks, which had looked half-pouty, improved somewhat – or rather, it burst.
'Nn-ugh.'
As if trying to prevent the skin of a perfectly ripe fruit from splitting and spilling its contents, Fushimi covered her vividly scarlet cheeks with her hands, which were also flushed bright red.
It was facial comedy worth watching, so Yuna and I thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle.
Sweating slightly but calming down, Fushimi resumed the conversation.
'So' 'Where' 'Going?' After the '?', she caught her still slightly ragged breath.
"Ah, I thought I'd go check Takahiro's room." Since waiting for rescue is pointless anyway—
"Takahiro's?" Yuna interjected from the side.
"I just remembered we hadn't searched that room yet."
Also, I'd nearly let my original purpose for coming to this house join the year-end party. What I *should* be doing isn't fighting the fear of murder.
Keiko had insisted that searching a room used by someone still living was forbidden without permission, but surely no one would assert ownership rights after becoming a corpse. An irreverent and self-serving argument, I know.
Yuna gave me a knowing smirk, one that seemed like it could make rust bloom on my plans.

Fushimi, creating a faint breeze by fanning her notebook, indicated her intention to follow me.
'Me' 'Too' 'Go'.
"M-m-m-most cer-tainly, zzzzz zubit—"
"Okay." Shut up. Are you the Mochi Mochi Tree or something?
"I shall accompany you as well."
Though it's not taught in any textbook, I was predestined to experience this single moment in my life of desperately wishing it were common knowledge that the antonym of 'Un' [Okay] is 'Nn-ugh.' I clasped my hands, fell to my knees on the floor, and offered up a song and a prayer... "My brain's short-circuiting, so please hurry up and retort."
"Nn-ugh." Yuna mimicked me. The simplest attack, and the one that demeaned me most.
"Nn-un-un-ugh." Fushimi chimed in with a nasal tone, accumulating useless baggage in her notebook.
Presented with humiliation both artificial and natural, I felt genuinely unable to bear it. Therefore, I chose to retreat in the form of moving on, without further struggle.
I wanted to walk with a swagger, slicing through the wind and, while I was at it, Yuna's rotten nature.
That's what I earnestly wished.

---

Takahiro's room, on the second floor, differed from an empty room only to the extent that it had sprouted hair and a dresser. There was almost nothing to see in the room. I opened the dresser drawers from the bottom up, rummaging through the contents. Folded and stored inside were men's clothes lacking any particular features or direction. If women's clothes had popped out, I'd have had to maintain a certain distance even if I ran into Takahiro's corpse later, so this was a fortunate outcome – lie. Though someone from high above might retort, "Look who's talking," given I was currently wearing a woman's yukata.
"...Oh?"
In the corner of a drawer, I found a metal object. Definitely not iron underwear or anything like that. It was a key. Classification-wise, it seemed neither small nor large. Nor did it look like something for a thief or magic user. Thinking it might be the key to this room, I pocketed it. Only the reason for the theft was a lie. For now, I'll register it as Important Item #1.
I ripped off the neat sheets and messed up the bed too. Nothing conspicuous, nothing inconspicuous – nothing at all.
Fushimi and Yuna were near the entrance, watching my every move like theater critics. They were so committed to being spectators, I almost wanted to demand if they saw any point in having followed me.
After that, I peeked into the bathroom and the toilet.
"Mmm... What's this?" I murmured suggestively.
I picked up something strange in the toilet.
For now, I decided to file it under 'Important Items.'

*I obtained 'Label'.*
*I used 'Label'!*
*Using that is unthinkable!*

"...No way." Was this a cursed item? It had 'Special Price' written on it in red pen, too. Guess too-good-to-be-true deals always have a catch.
"What are you getting so worked up about with the toilet seat?" Yuna asked from outside the toilet. Don't stare at me with such curiosity-filled eyes.