On the following days, investigators verified phone records and timelines. Taiju was the last person Naomi had spoken to, so they needed to ask him some routine questions to rule out any foul play. Though it was understandably procedural, he was quickly cleared as a person of interest. As the days went by, New Year came, and they spent their time separately. School began on January 4. Today is January 8, 1900—Manabu got ready in his usual manner, broke bread, dressed, and headed off to college.
Ever since the tragic incident of the twenty-fifth, Mion had become less approachable. She hadn't been in a good mental state; she barely stepped out of her dwelling and stopped answering calls. She hadn't even made a single call to any of them ever since. She had wholly isolated herself; she even began absenting herself from college. Manabu and Taiju thought of bringing her food and snacks sporadically. Only Mai could visit her often, mostly. And his parents were really concerned about her too. Manabu deeply sympathized with her but couldn't find a way to help her out of this grief, since he himself hadn't recovered from the sorrow yet. After the autopsy, they were brought to the morgue to identify the victim's body. 'When we arrived, I saw Naomi's and Futaba's lifeless bodies, lying on a cold stainless steel bed.' Their bodies had discolored themselves in a seldom purplish blue; skin and muscles had turned cold and stiff due to rigor mortis. 'Even before I realized, my eyes were filled with tears. I couldn't accept the truth that someone so dear to me, with whom I share moments just few days ago, would be taken to be buried at the cemetery in front of my very own eyes, and I only would put soil on her body, as I did to my grandmother…It's frustrating.' While Mion stood and didn't utter a word. Taiju stayed strong, but he had to face his limits. Mai never wanted to enter in the first place, but she struggled to gather the strength to say a final goodbye to her Cārus (the beloved one) Naomi.
"The funeral was held the next day after the autopsy. At the funeral, almost all the students and teachers were present to share their grief. This was how we had to say goodbye to our beloved one, forever…"
"In the past few days, I've learned a lot. I've confined myself to the house, reading books all day, trying to get over my grief, but Mion rather stayed the same." Manabu arrived at school with the faint hope that Mion might appear, even unwillingly. Upon entering the classroom, on Naomi's desk, there were notes left by their classmates, written with pen and marker.
"Always be missed by us."
"No matter where you are, this place won't be the same without you."
"Good people die, but their good deeds remain."
'FORgiv—ness to—theGUILTy, is CRUELty to the Innocent…' in whispering memories…
Those writings on Naomi's bench and desks made Manabu smile wistfully. He sat down in his place and turned his gaze, expecting Mion's arrival. 'It seems Mion won't attend as well.' Moments before the lecture begins, Mai visited his section. She entered crossing her arms, purposely there to look for Mion as well. She greets him briefly, "Peace be upon you, it's been a days, Manabu. Are you doing well? It seems like Mion won't be—" At that instant when Mai presumes Mion won't be attending, Mion walked in. Her face was long, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed—without uttering a word, she sat on her bench. It was relieving that she came. Mai consoles her and so she returned to her section as the bell rang. The first lecture was Geology, and a substitute teacher was in place of Futaba temporarily. Just before the lecture began, the principal of this institution, Hojo Tetsuya, entered the room with some policemen beside him.
Hojo spoke: "Attention! Peace be upon you all. I know that most of you are aware of the situation. One of our classmates, Naomi, and Mr. Futaba were brutally murdered last year. The policemen are inquiring with every person upon any suspicion. We have to keep ourselves composed and stay strong against such tragedy. We were all born into this world, and one day, we will all leave it. That is the truth. Death is certain. Therefore, we cannot let it break us. And you may have heard of the Mr. Santa case, which they suspect might be connected to these murders. Police are investigating it thoroughly, and justice will prevail."
Investigator Kenzo was there too; he stood outside the room. And after Hojo's speech, he walked in, stood on the platform, and wrote two numbers on the board. "Here, the one above is the department's emergency number, and the below is my personal cell phone number. If you have any kind of trouble, don't hesitate. Let us know and we'll take immediate action." He paused, let out a long breath, and said, "If you get to know about anything related to the Santa case… That might help us to deliver justice to your friend. I wish you all a happy new year. Peace be upon you all."
As for the class, Ms. Kasha began her lecture. The arrangements for a permanent teacher would be made soon…
Days fly by, one after another, and ultimately the day announced itself when the principal Hojo introduced them to their new Geology teacher on January 17, 1900. On that date, everyone was present the following day. As the students settled down, Principal Hojo gestured toward the doorway and said, "Come in."
A statuesque figure, plausibly a hundred and ninety centimeters tall, with a broad look, entered the classroom. His authoritative voice resonated through the room as he announced himself as—Daima Leonhard. Mion recognized him almost immediately. As Daima's gaze settles on her, he said, "Peace be upon you, how are you mature lady, you recognize me don't you? It's a great coincidence that we met again," with an acknowledging smile.
Mion inclined agreeing, "Yes, I remember as well. It's truly a strange coincidence." She said, though her tone was flattering. Seeing Daima sparked some curiosity among the pupils. He somewhat looked like a foreigner. So one of them asked, "Sir, what is your nationality? You look like a foreigner to me."
"Well, originally, I'm from Lafiaza," Daima said. "However, my wife is a Feropian citizen. After she passed away, my son and I shifted here." It was some fascinating story; they learned many things about him; his demeanor exuded a perfect blend of authority and warmth. Daima's size made him seem a bit intimidating, but he was gentle.
Then Hojo raised his finger, demanding silence. "There's someone else I would like to introduce to you," as he announced. Everyone had their eyes settled on them, as Hojo continues, "From today onwards, Mr. Daima's son will be joining your class as your new classmate." Hojo shifted his hand, pointing at the doorway. "Everyone, meet Leon." The room fell into a hush as Leon walked in and stood over the platform. So luminous his facial expressions were faint. His eyes were as dark as the deep ocean, neglecting any light reflection. "So otherworldly he is." His presence made him seem like he didn't quite belong in this world. There was a strange charm, something enigmatic about him. Leon smiles faintly, and he said, "Peace be upon you all."
As days passed, Leon gradually became the center point of gossiping(more like malicious gossiping. Because he was a little too generous toward people.) He excelled at athletics. It wasn't long before students discovered he was fluent in five languages, but he had flaws. He was inept in studies but somehow great in mathematics. He was simple, decent and gentle. But the particular thing that grabbed Mion's attention about him was that—he was genuinely kind 'just like Naomi.' He adored children; he respected his juniors and they admired him as well. The three of 'em—Manabu, Taiju, and Mai—had become his companions gradually. But Mion was the unapproachable one. Slowly but surely, Leon learned about the tragedy that had befallen Mion, which no one oath to speak about. He knew about those tragedies since the very day, but he could've never predicted the victims were her dearest one.
Wanting to provide a helping hand, he attempted approaching Mion to befriend her, for the purpose of offering salvation. But Mion didn't acknowledge him at all; she simply didn't seek no companionships from nobody. Despite constantly failing, he thought of a good plan. While learning about the college and other students, he heard rumors engaging Manabu and Mion 'they might be lovers.' So he anticipated and approached Manabu at lunch period immediate, "Aren't you Mion's boyfriend!?"
"Eh!?" Manabu stammered. "Boyfriend? Whose boyfriend?!" Leon sensed the awkwardness, realizing Manabu was unaware of the gossip about him and Mion, "Nah, I was kidding. Anyway, do you know when Mion's birthday is?"
"It's February 27, I believe. Why though?"
"I would need your assistance to arrange something for Mion's birthday. Maybe it'll cheer her up." Manabu thought it would be wonderful. "But where would we even celebrate?"
Leon shrugged. "Well, I haven't thought that yet. Do you know any place she likes? Or anything she's fond of?" Manabu scratched his head, looking slightly embarrassed. Being her closest friend yet not knowing her favorites or likings was an embarrassment. They were both stumped, realizing they wouldn't get useful information from their other classmates either; they even consulted Mai and Taiju, though it wasn't any helpful. So finally Leon concluded, "The only way to find out is to discover it ourselves."
They spent a lot of time thinking. Thus, the three of them—Taiju, Mai, and Leon—devised a plan. They decided that Manabu would take Mion on a date and try engaging in chats with her. Despite his reluctance, the group pressured him into agreeing, and they scheduled the date for January 28.
On January 28, 1900, Sinnamon Garden—Manabu stood waiting for Mion; the air was still cold, the winter chills hadn't left yet. While the Crewmates—Leon, Taiju, and Mai—were keeping eyes on him from a distance, with a pair of binoculars and three sunglasses. Glasses were supposed to avoid looking suspicious though they couldn't look more suspicious with them on. Manabu never had a date before; he was feeling shy and nervous. When Mion finally arrived, Manabu's heart skipped a beat. She looked gorgeous, though her eyes still carried that same faltered look. "Let's go," she said. They walked together through the streets and alleys. It seemed she wasn't prepared either, though it was her first date as well. They kept wandering around different places until Manabu asked, "So…where do you want to go? Is there any place you want to go?"
Mion paused walking, thought for a moment lowering her gaze, then said, "Come with me. There's a place…"
They went onto a trolleybus to 23/20/ block-F, Commoner Street. The two of 'em sat in front. While Leon, Taiju, and Mai, putting the sunglasses on, sneaked into the bus while hiding their faces with a newspaper, and settled down at the backseats. 'Taiju, why the fuck are you wearing women's glasses,' Leon whispers. 'A random grandma traded it wit me for Sixty-nine Dãs,' Taiju said.
Mion led Manabu to a little bakery near the post-office. As they entered the bakery, as well as the crew, Mion and Manabu settled down on the table at a center, while the Crew sat at a safe distance, close enough for eavesdropping. Mion stared at the table cloth's design, silent, following its patterns with her fingernail, before she began speaking. "When my biological parents died, I didn't really feel anything, since I was too young. I barely remember their faces anymore. I had an elder brother who used to assault me, and whenever I resisted, he'd force me or beat me." Manabu remained hushed, as did the crew. "I used to pray for him to meet a devastating end, to God—Die! DIE! DIE!—And one day, he died in a car accident. The car drove right upon his skull. Nothing could ever make me more satisfied. But I realized I was left in this harsh world with no guardian who could guide me at righteousness."
"But then Mr. and Mrs. Futaba came into my life. They treated me like their own daughter, and Naomi as her sister. They guided me, gave me the warmth. They became my everything, my Cārus… After a few years, Mrs. Futaba died of heart disease. It was like a nightmare, and for the first time, I felt what someone's supposed to feel when they lose someone dear to them. I never cried this much even for my own parents. Then Futaba had to take care of the household. He tried his best to fulfill his role both as father and mother."
Mion glanced to the decorated case where cakes were displayed. "Every year, Dad celebrated our birthday here—I still remember when I first celebrated my thirteenth birthday with them, while Mom (Ms. Futaba) was still alive. She used to braid my hair everyday. I can only braid my hair as she taught me. By the next year, she wasn't there to braid my hair. I was in pain, but I know she would've wanted me to live happily. We celebrated my fourteenth birthday in her absence; it tore my heart, but Naomi and Dad were enough for me, but—" Her voice broke. "On my eighteenth birthday, there would be no one whom I could consider family. I've always wondered why it was like this, why were they so special to me? Now that I have lost them I realized I am just an orphan, who had nothing."
Manabu frowned. "That is not true, Mion. I'm here for you. Taiju is here. Mai is here. We are all your family," he held her hands. "I would always be with you, if you want. I'll spend my whole life with you and never complain. I'll take good care of you." Mion glanced at him, "I know, and I am satisfied to hear that. I know you would take good care of me. But—people I needed the most at my worst—were my family; friends come after. You were my companion of good days, but they were my everything at my worst days," she said.
Manabu knew exactly what Mion was feeling inside, but there was nothing he could do to take away her pain completely. After spending some time together, they all went their separate ways around six in the evening. But it was settled; they knew what they had to do for Mion. For her salvation. Leon was desperate; he took care of gathering almost every classmate and teacher. Together, they meticulously planned a surprise birthday party for Mion. Everyone contributed ideas and excitement. Only they kept it hushed from Mion. Until February 27 arrived…