"Komaeda. It's time to get down to business," Hajime declared. "So, tell me. What exactly happened that night at the Devil's Turnabout?"

"Hm." Komaeda leaned further back into his seat, his eyes absentmindedly wandering up to the ceiling though they observed nothing in particular. His overall demeanor was unnaturally relaxed for a man who was being questioned on the events of a murder. "Well, I left my apartment at around 11:03 PM and arrived at the bar at… a little after 11:40, I think. I came in and took a seat at the counter, but besides the bartender and me, the main room was basically empty."

Hajime nodded along to Komaeda's words, recalling what Saihara had told him at the Devil's Turnabout earlier that day in an attempt to determine whether both accounts matched.

Because, if anyone out of the two would lie about anything, Hajime had a strong gut feeling that it would definitely be Komaeda.

Saihara said Komaeda arrived at 11:42, so that checks out. Although… he never said anything about the place being completely deserted.

Still… it's probably better to leave the detail hanging rather than confirm or reject it entirely.

"And?"

"A woman came in and sat beside me. Or, technically, she did leave one empty seat between us… ah, I guess it all makes sense, though. Who'd want to sit next to someone like me?"

Hajime frowned. Somehow, Komaeda managed to sneak in yet another piece of self-deprecation with the rest of his story. "Just continue."

"And then, the last person came in—also a woman. She sat right between us, and we all just talked for a little while," Komaeda said. "I was so lucky to meet her there, you know. Maizono was a famous pop idol. While I can't say I'm particularly interested in that genre of music, I could never dream of having such amazing talent like her's…"

A sting of pain shot through his chest for reasons known to him. "Try to stay on topic," Hajime snapped, sounding a little blunter than what was intended.

"Certainly," Komaeda responded, though Hajime was doubtful of that. "After that, we ordered our drinks."

"Vodka, scotch, and wine, right?" Hajime asked.

"Right," Komada confirmed. "So, then, we had a few sips. Maizono went to the bathroom after finishing about half of her glass…"

Hajime gulped, every single one of his muscles tensing up.

If what Saihara told him was true, then this is the point in the story where the murder should've taken place.

If the story so far was being mapped out into a plot diagram, this would be the climax.

But it was odd.

Because Komaeda became silent.

It wasn't even that unintentional type of silence that would grow when someone forgot what they were going to say or needed time to arrange their thoughts into coherent sentences.

Hajime was under the impression that this type of silence was 100% deliberate.

And, on top of that, Komaeda wasn't even trying to hide that fact.

"H-Hey. That's not it, is it?" Hajime asked, poking around for a further explanation. "There's supposed to be more, right?"

"Of course, there is," Komaeda replied without hesitation.

"Then tell me!"

Komaeda's eyes widened, his air of calmness disappearing for a brief moment. He obviously wasn't expecting that sort of outburst from Hajime.

Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but I'm trying to make a point, here!

These are peoples' lives we're talking about, for god's sake!

But after the initial shock wore off, Komaeda was back to his usual, cryptic, laidback-even-though-he-shouldn't-be, self.

"Then, I dissolved a couple of pills in the glass."

Hajime's mind was a mess at this point. Such a great disparity between his thoughts and what he had written down in neat, logical-looking bullet points on the paper that was currently wasting away inside the briefcase that was not in his hand.

'A couple of pills in the glass.'

Those words were etched deep into his brain, repeating themselves over and over and over again. They seemed important, however…

He's being so vague!

What made it worse is that Hajime couldn't even tell if it was the truth, a lie, or somewhere in between.

"So, are you saying you were the one to poison Sayaka Maizono's wine?" Hajime asked.

To this, Komaeda simply shrugged. "Was I?" he responded, answering Hajime's question with yet another question. His tone was playful and almost child-like, as if what they were discussing wasn't a murder allegation that could potentially jeopardize his entire future. And, to top that all off, his rose petal lips had the audacity to curve themselves into a tiny smirk.

Hajime was simultaneously encouraged and discouraged by Komaeda's display of innocence.

His hands were clenched into tight fists. The aftertaste of the cider now felt like a bitter sharpness on his tongue. Like poison, if you will.

Still, there was something about the open-endedness… the haziness of Komaeda's reply that made him even more inclined to prod even further.

"Just answer the question!" Hajime demanded loudly, his voice taking on a similar tone to his small angry surge earlier. "I need to know the facts, Komaeda!"

Komaeda raised an eyebrow, his chin resting on his fist connected to an elbow propped up by his thigh. "That's not very smart. It isn't a good idea to rely on testimonies to give you solid facts." He leaned forward a little, the amount of space between the two decreasing by a few inches. "Including mine."

Hajime shuddered, despite the fact that the heater was going at full blast. It was always a shock whenever Komaeda made that sudden jump from insecure and bordering-on-the-edge-of-unstable to unnaturally serious and poker-faced.

He makes a point; though that's just human nature.

I wouldn't put it past some people to resort to perjury to get themselves out of a pinch.

Nevertheless, Hajime felt like he needed to take a different approach to get at least something out of Komaeda. Something that wasn't another shade of gray; something that wasn't a 'maybe' or 'perhaps.'

So, he decided that he would relent on the interrogation relating to the poisoning itself for the time being.

There is a chance that he'll be more likely to answer my questions if they seem unimportant. But, sometimes, seemingly useless details can bring about major breakthroughs.

"Fine. Let's… move on, for now," Hajime said. "From… your perspective, what happened after the poisoning?"

'From your perspective.'

Hajime internally smirked, satisfied with himself for coming up with that one. It was a clever choice of words intended to make the question seem less like a demand, all while easing Komaeda into elaborating further about the situation.

Whether or not Komaeda actually caught onto this was unknown. But if he did, he showed no signs of it.

"I finished my glass and the bartender asked if I wanted a refill. I said yes. But then, Maizono came back from the bathroom and told us she still felt sick, so I suggested she hold off on the wine temporarily and have water instead."

Again, there were no direct contradictions between Komaeda's account and Detective Saihara's explanation to be found. Therefore, it was safe to assume that he was telling the truth.

"The bartender fills the glass with water, but before he could give it to her, we all heard a really loud noise. The bartender said some not-so-nice things about his boss that he probably thought we couldn't hear and left for some time to see what happened."

A new detail, I guess.

Hajime sighed. 'The bartender hates his boss' was added to his invisible list of mental notes.

"Once he came back, the bartender gave Maizono the water. A little while after, she died."

Wincing at the bluntness of Komaeda's statement, Hajime knew it was a stark contrast from the way Saihara rounded out the sharp edges of the final event in the murder sequence.

"Alright. I… I guess that's all," Hajime said awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. Silence hung heavy over the room; one that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be calming or uncomfortable. Despite being a lawyer, Hajime couldn't seem to find any further questions to ask about the case itself that would actually bring back clear answers from Komaeda.

Wait. There's still one more thing…

"Komaeda," Hajime said, his voice dropping in pitch and volume as if they weren't alone together and there was something to hide. "I'm going to ask you something. Please be honest."

Komaeda nodded, eyes glowing with unadulterated intrigue. "Ask away," he replied, though his voice had a not-so-discreet undertone of 'but I never said I would give you an answer.'

Hajime cleared his throat and laced both his hands together, his posture reflecting his anticipation.

"Do you think you're guilty?"

The question rang out into the air, only to be punctuated by yet another period of silence.

Eventually, the silence was shattered by a forced-sounding chuckle.

"Depends."

Hajime let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Well, what exactly was he expecting?

How Komaeda still refused to answer with a 'yes' or a 'no…' it was actually relaxing in an odd way.

Because, as much as he liked to tell himself he was prepared for anything, Hajime didn't know what he would do if Komaeda outright told him he was a murderer.

He's already almost done something like that back at Grand Central… it's so goddamn confusing.

Without putting much thought into it, Hajime reached out to grab the glass sitting on the coffee table and downed the rest of it. The cider had gone flat a little while ago, though its fruity-bitter taste refused to leave.

The glass was slammed back onto the table with just enough force to cause a loud CLUNK to sound, but not enough to shatter it completely.

Hajime rose from his seat, his hands planted on his hips firmly. "That's enough for tonight, I believe."

Komaeda stood up, following suit. "Ah, leaving so soon?" he asked, sounding disappointed. "Was it something I said?"

Yes. No. Maybe?

The answer was unclear, unsurprisingly enough.

"I… I just need some more time to think about all this," Hajime said.

"I see."

"Then…" Hajime took his first few steps towards the exit, somewhat unsure of himself as he did so. Nothing was heard from Komaeda, so he took this as a cue to just make his exit. He extended his hand toward the doorknob, only for a certain object to catch his eye and cause him to pause in the middle of twisting it.

Said object was a baseball sitting on the bookshelf that held more knickknacks than books. A messy signature was scrawled across the off-white leather in permanent marker.

Hajime leaned in to take a closer look.

Must've gotten this signed by someone from the big leagues. Lucky bastard.

"Cool, isn't it?"

Komaeda's footsteps grew louder until they stopped. He was standing right next to Hajime.

"Yeah," Hajime agreed. Although, his first thought upon looking at the baseball wasn't exactly 'cool.' It was actually something more like… a vague sense of recognition. Sort of like that feeling he'd gotten upon seeing Komaeda's name in the case file for the first time.

Have I heard of this person before?

"I managed to catch it at a game a few years ago," Komaeda explained with a short chuckle. "I was acquainted with one of the players, so I asked him to sign it for me."

Hajime raised an eyebrow.

This guy used to be friends with a professional baseball player?

"Are you two still in touch?" Hajime found himself curious enough to ask.

Komaeda shook his head. "Not exactly. A few things happened after that, and, well…" He trailed off and sighed.

They must've gotten into a fight or something.

Probably still a sore subject.

"Interesting."

Hajime turned away from the bookshelf, cutting off his stalling and finally making his exit.

But halfway through the doorway, he caught a glimpse of Komaeda's glum facial expression.

"Hey, Komaeda?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. This was helpful."

Komaeda's eyes registered shock, confusion, and utter joy, all in that order.

"I—really?"

"Really," Hajime affirmed. "We should talk again sometime. Before the trial."

"Yes, definitely!" Komaeda exclaimed with a quick and enthusiastic nod. "How about Thursday? Same place, same time. I-If you want to, of course."

"Works for me," Hajime responded. Although he sounded nonchalant, internally, he was freaking out.

It's nothing personal. Nothing personal at all!

This is just preparation… preparation for the trial! Plus, he's the one who proposed it, and he hasn't tried to tase or murder me so far.

I really need to know all that I can about this case, and, by association…

That includes him, too.

The next morning arrived before he knew it.

Hajime watched his cab speed away until it became nothing more than a tiny dot in the distance and eventually disappeared.

Thankfully, he'd gotten at least a respectable number of hours of sleep than he had the night before.

Still, that didn't calm the ever-precarious waves of uncertainty crashing in his brain.

Hajime had met Nagito Komaeda for the very first time at Grand Central Terminal. He was… an interesting character, to say the least, with a habit of making things much more complicated than they should've been.

There was also the matter of Komaeda's past. Like essentially everything else about him, his background was shrouded by a veil of mystery.

The only thing Hajime could gather so far was that Komaeda must have come from an influential family of sorts.

Of course, it was reasonable to come to that conclusion. Komaeda lived in a 7,000+ square foot apartment with a fantastic view of the skyline and had a professional baseball player as a childhood friend.

Unlike in the movies, being a lawyer didn't automatically guarantee a bloated paycheck; it depended on your position in the firm and your success rate. It was relevant to assume that, because of this, Hajime couldn't even buy premium gas without keeping his eyes shut during the transaction.

The two were almost from different worlds entirely.

But it doesn't even matter, right now. Hajime stared at his own reflection in the semi-reflective door's surface and straightened his tie. If I mess up at the trial, Komaeda's never gonna see that view ever again.

Before entering the building, he glanced around the exterior, half-expecting for Hagakure to appear and annoy him for the sake of annoying him or for Nidai to give him an unnecessarily detailed story of his recent experiences in the bathroom.

However, this time, no such distractions were present.

There was nothing else for Hajime to do but walk through that door and get through another day at Hope's Peak law firm.

And, so, he did.

What kind of drug was it?

Cyanide, maybe?

Goddamnit, the only thing I know about her death was that it wasn't sudden! No reported symptoms or anything!

Hajime bit his lip hard, drawing blood as he did so. A metallic taste spilled into the corner of his mouth as the tip of his cheap ballpoint pen pressed further against the paper he'd been hunched over.

Komaeda told me he dissolved a couple of pills in the glass.

This could be a confession, but knowing him, there's a good chance that it isn't.

But going solely based on those words… it didn't seem like he was lying, there…

I don't know whether I should take his words seriously or not!

Is more than one dose of cyanide required to kill a person?

Did the alcoholic percentage of the drink have anything to do with it?

Why is this so difficult!? I'm a lawyer, not a detective!

He sighed, exasperated.

They do go hand-and-hand, in a way…

Hajime took a break from his little freakout session to check on Chiaki. It was odd. She would typically give her own input on whatever Hajime was stressing over, but she'd been almost completely silent ever since he arrived.

She might just be busy, Hajime reasoned. It's none of my business.

However, no matter how many times Hajime pushed it to the back of his mind and told himself to just 'focus on your own shit,' he was still very well aware that this explanation just wouldn't suffice.

Eventually, he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Nanami?"

Chiaki let out a tiny yelp, something that seemed a little uncharacteristic of her. Since when had she been that jumpy? "Yes?"

"Normally it's you asking me this," Hajime muttered with a small nervous chuckle, "But is everything okay?"

Chiaki pursed her lips together, staring down at her desk to avoid his gaze. "No… I'm fine. There's just… something on my mind."

His eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Really?"

Immediately after saying that, Hajime mentally reprimanded himself.

God, I probably sound super nosy. It's none of my business, remember?

None of my—

"If I'm being honest, I kind of wanted to tell you something, but I'm not entirely sure," Chiaki admitted, cutting off Hajime's train of thought. "Well, more of 'show' than 'tell,' actually."

Show?

That curiosity of his was multiplied by at least five, but really, could you blame him?

"You gotta show me, now," Hajime insisted, playing it off as a joke even though it really wasn't.

"Mm. I get that," Chiaki replied with a nod, her voice sounding a little less mellow and a little tenser. "Give me a second. I need to find it."

It?

After a little digging around, Chiaki's hand eventually re-emerged from her backpack. Held between her manicured fingers was a small plastic bag.

Upon closer inspection, Hajime could tell what exactly was in that plastic bag.

Although he knew what, he certainly didn't know why.

"A… pill?" Hajime squinted to get a better look at said pill. It was tiny and around and pink-ish in color, though he still couldn't fathom what significance it held.

Unless she's decided to become a drug dealer. But that seems unlikely.

"Yep. Don't ask me what type it is, because I don't know either," Chiaki said. "All I do know is that it's important... or at least, that's what the guy in the alleyway said."

"Important? But it's—"

Hold it.

There's a chance that this could be…

But is that even possible? What are the odds…?

Well, there was no harm in asking.

I've got to set this straight.

"Nanami… the guy in the alleyway… do you remember anything about him?"

"Hm. Kind of," Chiaki answered. "He was pretty short, I think."

"How short?"

"Um… somewhere around five feet?" Chiaki shrugged. "I forgot exactly what his face looked like, but I know he was wearing a funny-looking bowtie."

Short.

Bowtie.

Is it just a coincidence, or could I be onto something?

"What about the alley?"

"Oh. I found it when I was wandering around Queens last night, and I met the guy in front of a bar with a broken open-closed sign," Chiaki recalled. "There was caution tape at the door. Pretty weird, huh?"

Queens.

A bar.

What are the odds that this is a coincidence? Slim to none, right?

I don't know about the open-closed thing because I went to the Devil's Turnabout during the daytime, but other than that…

"The bar… it wasn't called 'The Devil's Turnabout,' was it?"

Recognition dawned on her face. "It was… I think. But how would you—"

"Look. This might seem hard to believe, but that bar is the crime scene of Sayaka Maizono's murder," Hajime concluded. "The very murder that Komaeda's being accused of."

Chiaki's eyebrows rose, her mouth forming a small 'o.' "No way."

"It's true," Hajime urged. "And that guy you talked to… I'm pretty sure he's Kokichi Ouma. The manager of the place, and technically a witness, too."

"That's… oh, my…" Chiaki curled her palm around the bag holding the pill, her hands shaking from the overwhelming nature of the connection. "That's all part of your case, isn't it?"

It is.

Chiaki wasn't the only one having a hard time processing this.

Hajime could hardly believe it. What were the odds that Chiaki would stumble upon the crime scene of his case like that? What were the odds that things would happen this way?

Once again, slim to absolute zero.

But, nevertheless, things did happen this way. So... I've got no choice but to believe it.

Hajime gulped.

The least I could do is try.

"Hey… why would Ouma give you this?" Hajime wondered aloud.

Now that he knew that it was Ouma who passed the pill over to Chiaki, it wasn't unreasonable to believe that the drug could have some connection to the Maizono murder case.

I guess there is the possibility that the pill's completely irrelevant to all this and Ouma just wanted to mess around, again.

That's not too far-fetched, actually. Moreover, how would he even know that Chiaki and I were confidants?

Or did he just give it to Chiaki just because he wanted to take it off his hands and she was the only person around to do so?

"Actually, some more stuff happened before he gave it to me," Chiaki answered. "He gave me this long lecture about truth, lies, facts, and everything in between. Honestly, it was pretty confusing." She held up her index finger after taking a short pause. "Oh, and before he left, he said 'that little pill could be the key to someone's cage' after I asked why."

Truth? Lies? Facts?

'The key to someone's cage?'

"Gosh… if I knew this had to do with your case, I would've recorded it, or written it down, or something," Chiaki lamented with a frown.

"But you didn't know. So, it's really not your fault."

The conversation was put on a temporary pause as Hajime took some time to reflect on Chiaki's detailing of her interaction with Ouma.

His words leave so much room for questioning. So much room for error.

Like with Komaeda, almost.

But anyway, about what he said…

Ouma was implying that this pill is supposed to be a key of some sort. Obviously in a metaphorical sense.

And then there's the cage. Is that also metaphorical?

How is it a fact?

"Hey, can I see that pill for a second?"

"Yeah, sure."

Hajime scrutinized the tablet very carefully. He briefly considered taking the pill out of the bag to get a better look, though rejected the idea after the possibility of losing it came to mind.

"Also… he was pretty adamant about me taking this," Chiaki said, her gaze glued onto the pill like Hajime's.

Oh.

That changes things…

Kind of.

Ouma was probably desperate to give the pill to somebody, regardless of whether Chiaki was a target or not.

But, now that I think about it, there's a chance that he did plan on it ending up with her, in the end.

Maybe Chiaki being in that alley last night was a coincidence, but what if Ouma planned on giving it to her using other methods?

Another possibility surfaced, one that held the potential to completely cancel out an idea—no, a question—that Hajime had formed earlier.

'How would he even know that Chiaki and I were confidants?'

There could be an answer to that question. Again, it all relied on the chance that everything happened a certain way. It was probably a very circumstantial conclusion that most definitely wouldn't hold up in court, but this was Hajime's mind, not a court, and it certainly wouldn't hurt to theorize.

Ouma's friends with—or at least is acquainted with—a famous detective. With the right resources, a good detective can find out anything about anyone. It might be a little bit of a stretch, but he could've consulted Saihara about Chiaki and I and planned everything beforehand.

But while this explanation accounted for that question, it raised yet another:

Why?

Why would Ouma go through all the trouble just for this?

Why would he care? Why wouldn't he care?

If he didn't, why would he do this in the first place? Just to mess with us?

Questions, questions, questions. They were just like weeds, in a way; popping up and refusing to go away.

And no matter how many times Hajime dove deep into his mind to search for any answers, any possible explanations, he came back dry.

You can't just brute-force everything like that.

Especially when it comes to motive and intention. The human brain sometimes follows impulse rather than logic, making it next to impossible to really understand it.

Complex. Unpredictable.

And when it comes to Ouma, well…

That multiplies it by 100.

Hajime shook his head and shut his eyes for a moment. His vision was starting to grow blurry—most likely a result of the gears in his head moving too fast and for too long.

In doing so, he came to the realization that maybe, things didn't have to be so complicated.

Am I just… overthinking this?

That pill could be useful evidence. And, while enigmatic, Ouma's words further back this up.

He wanted Chiaki to have it. He wanted Chiaki to use it.

But, in that case…

How?

"Hypothetically, if this does have something to do with the murder, don't you think it could be the poison used to kill Maizono?" Hajime suggested.

That wasn't so unreasonable, right? A pill procured from a bar where a murder-via-poisoning took place—it had to have been lethal.

"Uh, I'm not entirely sure," Chiaki responded. I don't know anything about this case, really, but if the cause of death was poisoning, then… that's very likely, yes."

Oops. Hajime chuckled nervously, a little embarrassed at the oversight. I completely forgot. There's no reason why she'd know more than just 'someone murdered, someone died' about this case.

Still, it was reassuring to hear that Chiaki supported his theory, because Hajime never really thought of himself as the smartest person in the world. Or the strongest. Or the best at anything, for that matter, and—

Nevermind. That line of thought was invasive and 100% not necessary.

"Well, in short, both the victim and witness were at a bar—The Devil's Turnabout—when someone poisoned the suspect's drink," Hajime explained. "There must be some pretty solid evidence the witness has against Komaeda to make him the main suspect."

"Solid evidence, huh," Chiaki murmured, her voice nearly a whisper. "That sort of reminds me of something Ouma said… right as he was giving me the pill, he told me that facts and evidence were unbreakable."

"Then… would that hold the implication that the pill itself was unbreakable evidence?"

"That sounds about right."

Alright!

Looks like something's finally confirmed!

Well… sort of.

This pill has got something to do with this entire mess.

"Although, he never stated that this 'evidence' was linked to this murder," Chiaki pointed out.

"True," Hajime said. "But what other case could he have been referring to?"

"Ah, fair point."

Then, I can probably assume that this pill was dissolved in Maizono's wine that night.

Obviously, it's not that exact pill… the killer must've had multiple on hand and left one behind by accident.

That'll also explain why Ouma has it. He's probably not supposed to have it, though… he shouldn't be allowed to withhold evidence like that.

Regardless… it's starting to make a little more sense.

"Now, about this pill… what type of drug is it?"

The questions were beginning to get more and more specific.

That's good, Hajime told himself. Or, at least, I hope it is

"I don't think we can figure that out just by looking at it," Chiaki noted."I've never seen anything like it before, so the only way of identifying it would be by consulting an expert."

An expert, huh?

Hajime sighed. His face was now angled towards the window, where bright rays of afternoon sunlight pierced through the blinds and right into his retinas.

He knew what he had to do next.

"What are you going to do next?"

"I don't know." A devilish smirk spread across his lips, cutting deep into his face. That combined with the dim, almost nonexistent lighting gave him an appearance befitting of a cartoon villain. "And neither do you."

Shuichi sighed in a way that kind of reminded Kokichi of a tired mother and rested his chin on his palms. "Right, right." His free hand reached out to the side, pale fingers wrapping around a glass clouded by condensation. "This wasn't an easy one in the first place, but whatever you're trying to do now isn't making it any easier."

"Oh, yeah?" Kokichi rushed to grab his own glass and clinked it hastily against Shuichi's.

"It'll work out in the end. Cheers."

Shuichi arched an eyebrow. "Cheers to what?"

Kokichi dismissed the question with a lazy wave of his hand. "I dunno. Something." A pair of deep purple eyes traveled up towards the ceiling and remained there. "Something big and important. Something that nobody's gonna forget."

"That makes no sense."

"That's the point."

Kokichi cackled and threw back the glass. His tongue was met by an overwhelmingly sweet wave, with a few fizzy accents here and there.

It tasted like grape and an unsolved mystery.

Rightfully so.

Because, if everything went according to plan, a certain story would begin to unfold. A story to accompany another story.

Discoveries were being produced. Conclusions were being made.

Were these conclusions right or wrong?

Just a little bit longer. Then we'll know.

Then they'll know.

Ah... but it wasn't really his business, was it?

I'm just a spectator.

"Hey. You should fix that," Shuichi suggested, his index finger pointing to the lit-up window.

Kokichi followed his gaze. It led him to that sign.

Both at once.

It's possible, isn't it?

"I was about to."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Liar," Shuichi accused bemusedly. "If we were in court, that'd be blatant perjury."

"But we're not."

A long silence hung in the air like fog. In the midst of it, Kokichi raised his now-empty glass to eye level and peered through it. The curvature of the glass distorted everything that could be seen past it.

The corners of Kokichi's mouth upturned, shifting into that smirk from earlier, before he spoke once again.

"Not yet, anyway."

A/N:

Aaaaand... done! Another slightly longer chapter (I think.) Hope you enjoyed it!
I feel sorry for Hajime. Or, anyone else who has to deal with both Komaeda and Ouma, really.
It's like playing poker with two wild cards, in a way.
Oh, what's this? Another idea, maybe?

Hm... just make sure to stay tuned for the next chapter, folks! That'll be all for now!