It was Thursday morning. Hajime woke up, nervousness and anticipation and more undecipherable emotion swirling together in the melting pot that was his brain. He turned his head towards the window right next to his bed out of habit. The absence of sunlight streaming through the blinds was a noticeable one, indeed.
Not that it matters, anyway, Hajime thought as he threw the covers aside and hoisted himself up. The sun was getting kind of obnoxious.
He made his way to the small area that would best be described as a kitchenette rather than a kitchen and began to brew some coffee. He was aware of how generic and mundane the action was, but caffeine was just one of those important things in life that he'd never be able to give up.
As he leaned against the cold granite countertop, Hajime came to the realization that he was wrong about his earlier observation.
Without those obnoxious-but-still-bright rays painting the entire place in golden hues, the world looked so dreary. Lifeless. Sort of like a painting that was abandoned halfway through by an artist who just lost motivation.
Perhaps this was partially to be blamed for the growing feeling of dread clawing at the inside of his chest.
Keyword: partially.
Hajime was about to find out what that pink pill really was, and in the process, uncover yet another mystery encapsulated within a larger mystery. It was like he was solving a puzzle. Bit by bit, piece by piece. Once a few details fit together, it wasn't so difficult to figure out the rest.
But, one could argue that it wasn't like that at all.
A puzzle was a game—an activity done out of boredom or simple enjoyment to either pass time or stimulate the mind.
Meanwhile, the Maizono murder case was anything but. Someone was dead, and there was someone else to blame for it.
In this particular instance, the blame just happened to fall onto the unlucky shoulders of Nagito Komaeda.
Plus, puzzles were leisure activities. You could take all the time in the world to solve one, and no one would criticize you for it because they simply don't care.
Meanwhile, the Maizono murder case was like a room with no escape—a room that Hajime just so happened to find himself trapped in along with a ticking time bomb.
A time bomb that, now, had fourteen days left until it would inevitably detonate.
Two weeks exactly.
Hajime sighed and shook his head. He didn't necessarily intend for his thoughts to take such a negative turn, they just did that on their own.
There's no point in sulking about it when I could be doing something to stack the deck in my favor.
But, at any rate, that pill's gonna be the main topic of discussion tonight.
Ah, of course. The investigation wouldn't end there. Hajime had arranged to pay Komaeda another visit at his apartment that night, and he wasn't sure whether he was scared or excited or a mix of both.
Talking with Komaeda had an odd effect on Hajime, as he'd noticed. That fine line between truths and lies, facts or fiction—it was all blurry and distorted. However, it was clear that Komaeda knew more than he was letting on. Much, much more. The way he withheld things was unconventional; not quite fitting with the traditional definition of the word. Unlike Ouma's method of thrusting random pieces of information into the arena of preconception in unpredictable patterns, Komaeda would shroud his words in a carefully crafted fog of ambiguity. Just enough to obscure the truth, but not quite enough to compromise it entirely.
But, when it all boiled down to it, it was evident that both methods caused Hajime a great deal of stress.
Essentially, Kokichi Ouma and Nagito Komaeda would be to blame if Hajime encountered heart issues in the near future.
Wonderful.
Hajime drained his coffee in a final swig and placed the empty cup in the sink. He gathered his briefcase and badge, not bothering to eye the steadily-growing pile of dishes and utensils occupying the sink and countertops, and started making his daily commute.
"So, how's it coming along?"
"It's…" Hajime trailed off. Hundreds of different possible ways to continue the sentence were forming in his mind, but none of them seemed good enough. Eventually, he decided to give up and settle with a one-word answer. "Complicated."
"Hm." Kirigiri tucked a lock of hair away from her face, one eyebrow raised in what could've either been amusement, interest, or concern.
The period of silence encouraged Hajime to open up a little more about the status of the case. "There's hardly any decisive evidence in the case files, from what I can tell. With the information I have now, any and every explanation I'd be able to provide would be purely circumstantial."
Kirigiri nodded slowly. "I understand the dilemma."
Of course. She's way more experienced… she's probably had her fair share of special cases like these.
Hajime opened his mouth to offer up another generic answer—probably something along the lines of 'I see'—but stopped once Kirigiri spoke again.
"Makoto told you about the history behind the Komaeda case, right?"
History…?
Uncertain of himself, Hajime thought it would be best to play it safe by answering the question with another question. "Maybe… why?"
"It's exchanged hands quite a few times," Kirigiri answered. "Several associates picked it up, not knowing much about it, only to drop it right after. In fact, I myself was curious about that murder, so I looked into it further." She sighed. "Needless to say… I figured out pretty soon that the Komaeda case was a major time commitment. Time that I'm afraid I don't have much of, at the moment."
Oh.
She really does understand, huh?
"Is there any advice you can give me, then?" Hajime asked, entertaining the idea that there should be at least something Kirigiri was able to figure out that he couldn't.
"Just… try to piece together as much evidence as you can while investigating," Kirigiri answered after a long pause. "As you said, there's not much in the way of detail in those files." She gestured to the documents Hajime was holding to his chest. "Don't be so quick to reject possibilities, because sometimes even the most unrealistic sounding explanations end up revealing the truth."
Hajime had already established most of that, but—similar to his experience with Saihara—hearing Kirigiri concur was relieving.
"Thanks, I'll make sure to keep that in mind," Hajime assured with a nod.
"Mhmm," Kirigiri hummed in response, inclining her head to the door in a wordless dismissal. "I just wanted to get a small update, so I hope I didn't take up too much of your time. You're going to need all you can get."
"N-No, of course not!" Hajime insisted with a nervous laugh, holding up both of his hands in mock surrender.
But she's right about time. I've barely made a dent in this, so far, and it's already been a few days.
I should pick up the pace… if I can.
Hajime opened his mouth to say one last thing before departing. "Well, uh, I'll just get back to it, then."
Kirigiri offered him a small and rare smile, all too reminiscent of the one she showed him on his first day at Hope's Peak. "Go ahead."
For the second time that week, Hajime was standing in the Lower Manhattan Medical Center pharmacy. Only this time, there were a few others present—mostly just elderly people browsing through the shelves of colorful, over-the-counter pill bottles.
Just one day, right? It's about noon, right now, so it's been about 24 hours already.
Hajime began to pace around the area, paying no regard to the curious look one of the other employees behind the counter gave him. His heartbeat was loud, practically drowning out his thoughts entirely. His fists were clenched tight in anticipation and anxiety.
It's probably some form of poison. If it's a pill, it's most likely the same type of drug that was used in Maizono's poisoning.
But… what if it's not? What other explanation could be provided for the pill's presence at the crime scene?
And, from Chiaki's retelling of the encounter on Tuesday night, Ouma's probably being serious about this. His spiel obviously implies that it's evidence, though it's arguable that he never mentioned what case the 'evidence' matched up with.
Hajime sighed. Perhaps it was best to put the theorizing on hold temporarily until he was able to get the information he needed from Kimura.
He glanced at the digital clock sitting right above a shelf stacked with Advil and off-brand Advil. 12:03 PM.
A feeling of frustration rose, but he fought to push it down. Beggars can't be choosers, he told himself for what was probably the five-hundredth time. She doesn't even have to do this in the first place.
The sound of a throat being cleared was the only indicator of another person's presence right behind him.
Hajime let out a yelp and spun around, immediately being met with the ghost-like appearance of Seiko Kimura.
He forced a smile onto his face and scratched the back of his neck in an attempt to play off his genuinely frightened reaction as something minor. "O-Oh, I didn't notice you, at first!"
"Now you do," Kimura said in response. Due to the mask, it was impossible to read her facial features. That combined with her unchanging vocal cadence made it just as impossible to tell whether she was joking or being 100% serious.
Hajime noticed a few documents tucked under Kimura's right arm, with the plastic bag containing the pill in her left hand.
"They're lab reports," Kimura clarified, seeming to notice Hajime noticing. She brought said lab reports up to eye level and began to read off of them.
Here it is. The moment of truth.
"This drug," Kimura declared, "Is actually a vitamin."
...what?
Out of all the possible answers to the question of the drug, Hajime was least prepared for this one to be the right one.
"A vitamin?" Hajime echoes, still in a state of disbelief.
Why would there be a vitamin pill at a crime scene? If it really is a vitamin and not some form of poison, does that mean it has no relevance to this case at all?
"Yes. It's actually a branch of the vitamin B12 group. A naturally occurring form, too, might I add."
Hajime wasn't the expert pharmacist; Kimura was. So, he decided to just nod his head and go along with what she was saying, although he really didn't understand at all.
"There's… something else, too," Kimura added slowly, after a period of consideration and silence.
"Like… scientific-wise?" Hajime wondered, the almost-unnoticeable-but-still-present shift in her tone audible.
"Not exactly. That deja-vu feeling I had before when I first saw this thing," She glanced at the pill, "It makes sense, now."
"How?"
"This is vitamin B12A, also known as Hydroxocobalamin," Kimura stated. "It's all in the name: 'vitamin.' It's used to treat vitamin deficiency, including a few forms of anemia."
Hajime still couldn't see where she was going with this. So, he made a 'keep going' gesture with his hand. Kimura complied, and finally finished her thought.
"Someone brought in a prescription for Hydroxocobalamin a few weeks back."
…!
Hold it!
What if...
This 'someone' might be another person involved with the murder, somehow! That would explain why there's a Hydroxocobalamin pill at the crime scene, though it does still leave the question of what actually was used to poison Maizono unanswered.
"Do you remember who that person was?" Hajime pressed.
A regretful look flashed across Kimura's eyes. "I-I'm sorry. There are rules of confidentiality that prevent me from divulging that information outside of a regulated setting."
Like a courtroom, huh?
Still, this didn't destroy Hajime's resolve. He'd actually learned quite a bit from his meeting with Kimura, and he was determined to put that information to good use.
He made a mental note about Hydroxocobalamin and the rest of Kimura's account—it felt like he was loading a pistol with a bullet of truth, and then waiting for the perfect moment to aim and fire. It felt good to have something confirmed in this mess of a murder case.
"Do you mind me taking those reports and the pill back? I'd like to add them to the courtroom record; they could be useful evidence."
"Sure."
Upon receiving the items from Kimura, Hajime tucked them away safely in his briefcase. It would probably be good to do a more detailed analysis of them later.
"Is there anything else?" Hajime asked, though he was sure that he wouldn't mind if Kimura's answer was a no. He was quite satisfied with what he'd gathered so far.
He received no immediate response from Kimura. The pharmacist's arms—no longer occupied with the documents—were crossed over her chest in a reclusive manner.
"Cyanide poisoning," Kimura finally answered, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Hydroxocobalamin is an antidote."
Hajime's jaw all but dropped to the ground at this new development.
An antidote to cyanide poisoning!?
This would change everything.
That mystery person that brought in a prescription for Hydroxocobalamin… were they aware of this? Is that the real reason?
But… it can't be a coincidence. Would that mean Maizono was aware of the murder plot the entire time? If that's so, and the Hydroxocobalamin really was used at the scene of the crime, then why is Maizono dead right now?
Despite technically knowing more, Hajime felt like he was back to square one.
He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw the slightest bit of blood. A bitter taste filled his mouth, both figuratively and literally.
No. I can't give up on this.
It might seem intimidating, but… I have to see it through until the very end.
But would the end be a happy one? Would Maizono's loved ones be allowed closure? Would Hajime himself be allowed closure?
He really didn't want to think about it too much. It was making his head hurt.
At any rate, this new evidence makes it very likely that the drug used to murder Maizono was cyanide, and someone used the Hydroxocobalamin as a counter to its effects.
Without warning, the image of a dead Sayaka Maizono slumped over a countertop took over his mind.
Or at least, someone tried to use it.
Hajime sucked in a deep breath and let it out.
I should get some input from Chiaki. With all those video games she plays, she's probably more reliable than me when it comes to connecting the dots.
"...will that be all?" Kimura asked, her voice suddenly sounding so small.
Hajime nodded slowly. "Y-Yeah. Thank you for all your help, I appreciate it."
He turned on his heel and left the pharmacy, sighing for what was probably the hundredth time.
That metaphor with the gun and the bullets—it really did make sense. If he weren't to stray from the metaphor, he'd be able to say that the pistol he held had very limited ammo.
And, regarding what he did have…
But would that bullet of truth ricochet right back after he shot it? Would it come right back to bite him, like a boomerang?
But that's the scary thing about the truth.
Hajime didn't know whether it would help him or hurt him.
Would it help prove Komaeda's innocence, or would it further tighten the chains of guilt?
Benefit or detriment.
A double-edged sword.
"So, what do you think?"
Chiaki's eyes traveled down the length of the page, thousands of words derived from unfamiliar scientific jargon occupying his line of vision. It wasn't easy—it could even be considered impossible, really—to make sense of every little detail on that lab report, but she got the gist of it.
In fact, Hajime had made it especially obvious that certain parts of information outweighed the rest in importance.
Soaked in layers upon layers of bright yellow ink were the words 'Hydroxobalamin' and 'counter the effects of cyanide.' Hajime may have gone a little overboard with the highlighter, as it appeared.
But, the truth was, Chiaki didn't really know what to think. She didn't know everything, after all. So, she decided to stall a little until she could figure something out.
"Is it really evidence, then?" she finally asked.
"Yes." Hajime hesitated, obviously unsure of himself, before modifying his answer. "...most likely."
Chiaki raised an eyebrow. She agreed for Hajime, for the most part. For a supposed liar, Ouma seemed earnest when giving her that pill. Like, really earnest. Almost as if after all the lies he's told, the truth just felt foreign in his mouth.
"I see." Chiaki looked up from the page briefly, her pink eyes locking with Hajime's hazel ones. "It's not the poison you were looking for, huh?"
"Nope," Hajime admitted, shaking his head. "But it can still be useful… hopefully. I just don't know where that use is. Like… how this is supposed to fit with the rest of the story."
Reasonable doubt, Chiaki mused with a frown. I'm wondering the same thing.
"Is there any way we can find out where exactly this pill was found at the crime scene?" Chiaki asked, opting to continue with her questioning method of stalling. She was pleasantly surprised when the query left her mouth—it could be quite useful, actually.
"Hm… if we could catch Ouma again, maybe," Hajime responded. "But unless Saihara's there to debunk any lies he might tell, we'll end up with a story full of red herrings."
Saihara? As in, Shuichi Saihara?
This case must be pretty high-profile, then.
And difficult, too, if someone as qualified as Saihara can't even figure it out.
"You're right." Chiaki placed the documents in a neat stack on Hajime's desk and let out a quiet sigh. While she was confident in Hajime's competence, she was concerned with the outcome of the trial. From what Hajime had already divulged, she could tell that there was little evidence
"In any case, you should go to the police department to officially register that evidence," Chiaki suggested. "Togami's going to pounce if he finds out that your evidence hasn't been approved."
"Togami?"
"Byakuya Togami," Chiaki clarified with a nod. "The DA around here. He's, um…"
"Difficult?" Hajime offered.
"Basically."
Hajime held back a groan, his shoulders sagging as if invisible weights had suddenly been dropped onto them. "As if this couldn't get any worse."
Chiaki gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, hoping to clear at least a little of his worry. "Well, you know what they say." She held up her index finger, pointing to an invisible but universally-known quote, and smiled. "Once you've hit rock bottom…"
Hajime returned the expression—there was just something about his smile that conveyed both confidence and apprehension—and finished the sentence.
"...the only way to go is up."
The elevator rose from the ground, climbing up the floors steadily.
Hajime shifted his weight from one side of his body to the other, his arm curled around the support bar on the far side of the elevator, and his eyes dead set on the pair of shiny metal doors in front of him.
Once again, he didn't know what he was supposed to expect. But, this time, he had fairly clear-cut intentions.
I'm going to ask Komaeda about the Hydroxocobalamin.
If Ouma was telling the truth, Komaeda should be able to confirm at least something about it. Like, for example: which one out of the three people that were present at the bar brought the drug? Obviously, a motive for that would be indeterminable, but if I could at least get the basics down, I'll be satisfied.
Hajime felt the corner of his lips sink into a small frown.
Right. This is Komaeda I'm dealing with. There's no guarantee I'll get a clear answer, and that's assuming I even get an answer in the first place.
The elevator creaked slightly as the floor counter right above the doors displayed the number '47.'
An overwhelming rush of determination immediately began to chip away at the pessimism coating his heart.
Hajime squeezed both eyes shut, hoping the action would do something to calm himself down a bit.
Come on. I can't give up before it even starts!
Maybe… this time… I'll get lucky! Maybe I'll get to know something really important to this case!
But I should be careful with my words. Strategic.
I can use that whole 'hope obsession' he's got for my advantage.
If it's for the sake of hope, how can he say no?
A stab of unease pierced through his consciousness. Hajime felt somewhat sickened by his own thoughts; repulsed by his own gambit of manipulation. It was hypocritical of him, he was well aware of that.
But, on the other hand…
In the end, I'm doing all to prove his innocence.
DING!
The abrupt noise of the elevator reaching its intended destination interrupted his thoughts, forcefully pulling him back to reality.
Hajime sighed and watched as the doors slid open.
Here we go, again.
The door flung open without a moment's delay. "It's wonderful to see you tonight, Hinata." A lopsided smile spread across his face. "Ah, but it always is, isn't it?"
Hajime's heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing grew more and more rapid, despite his attempt to keep it down.
That's just how Komaeda is, he told himself. He probably doesn't think twice about the other possible… interpretations of what he says.
So, it's not weird. It's not weird! Am I the one who's making this weird?
Goddamnit! Keep it professional, Hajime!
"L-Likewise," Hajime mumbled after a very long and awkward pause.
Komaeda chuckled and moved aside to leave room for the other to enter. Hajime did, though his mind was mostly occupied by prayers that Komaeda wouldn't notice the shakiness in his step.
They both took their usual seats in the living room—one across from the other, with the coffee table as the only thing putting distance between them.
Hajime snapped open his briefcase, procured the pill and its accompanying lab report, and set both down on the table's surface carefully.
He pointed to the pill. "Does this look familiar to you?"
Recognition flashed behind Komaeda's eyes, but it was extinguished almost immediately after it sparked. That look was replaced by his typical, neutral gaze.
Upon receiving no response, Hajime continued to speak, hoping that the specification would encourage Komaeda to open up.
"I was told this was found at the crime scene. Is this correct?"
Komaeda kept his lips sealed, but nodded.
Hajime examined his body language very closely. There were no telltale signs of a lie—no obvious ones, anyway—so he decided it would be safe to assume that Ouma's claim wasn't complete bullshit.
"Alright. Now, can you tell me who this belonged to?"
"Not her."
Her?
"Specify, please."
Komaeda pouted, feigning disappointment. "Come on. You're a smart person, Hinata. You can figure this out, right?"
Hajime furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. "H-Hey! I'm supposed to be asking the questions!"
Sometimes I feel like he just assumes my competence as a cop-out for every question I have.
Hajime opened his mouth to express this, but closed it soon after. There's no time for stupid banter. This guy's gotta answer me!
Unfortunately, Komaeda had gone right back to his state of silence, and it didn't look like it would give away unless Hajime interjected.
Looks like I'm on my own for this one.
But… it's not that big of a deal, right? I mean, I'm not trying to let Komaeda's praise stroke my ego, but I should be able to figure a few things out by myself like he's implying.
So, who's the 'her' Komaeda's referring to?
Obviously, the first assumption would be Sayaka Maizono. But…
Hey! Wait a second!
That's wrong!
"I object!" Hajime suddenly cried, his right arm outstretched and index finger extended in an accusatory point.
Komaeda cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow arched in amusement. "Hm?"
"That was… objectionable," Hajime added, his voice considerably less assertive and less loud than it was before. Nevertheless, his point still stood. "Komaeda, it's impossible for me to 'figure it out,' as you so eloquently put it!"
Komaeda was grinning ear-to-ear as he pressed both of his hands to the left side of his chest, right above his heart. "Wow," he said, his voice taking on that airy tone that was becoming all-too-familiar to Hajime. "You really are… just as smart—no, smarter—than I thought!"
Hajime immediately shrunk back, his face practically on fire at that point. "I—uh…"
"You never cease to amaze me, Hinata!" Komaeda gushed, eyes half-lidded in something that could've easily been mistaken for physical ecstasy. "Now, please continue! I sincerely apologize for interrupting you, but I just couldn't help myself!"
Hajime nodded slowly, noticing how Komaeda refused to look anywhere else besides him, and cleared his throat. "Right. So, uh, there's no way for me to find out which woman you're talking about because I wasn't given enough information in the first place," he explained. "Besides Maizono and the bartender, there's one other witness. Their gender hasn't been revealed yet—or at least, not to me. All things considered, any answer I'd be able to provide would be nothing more than a mere guess."
"Excellent!" Komaeda began to clap. He didn't even look like he was joking, which was the tiniest bit concerning. "That is the correct answer, in a way."
No…
There is an answer to his question, yes, but it's impossible for me to provide it.
"No, that's wrong," Hajime countered. "Having… impressed you already, would you mind giving me the real answer, Komaeda?"
Komaeda seemed to think it over for a little bit before answering. "Ah… you're right. It's the least I could do after all you've done for me. So, let me give it to you straight," he said. "Admittedly, I wasn't being entirely honest with you."
"...what?"
"It's not 'her.' It's 'them.'"
"'Them' as in plural?"
"Exactly."
"So, essentially," Hajime locked eyes with Komaeda, "At least two other people weren't the ones to bring the Hydroxocobalamin to the bar, that night?"
"Mhmm!"
Two other people… at least.
But I wonder…. Wouldn't that just increase the likelihood of Komaeda being the owner of the drug?
"Okay, then. How about I ask you this," Hajime suggested, his chin resting on his fist, head inclined at a slight angle. "Were you the one?"
His question was answered by silence.
Of course.
"Hey, Hinata," Komaeda suddenly said, weirdly nonchalant. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"H-Huh?" Hajime raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Komaeda's random diversion. "No, not really."
"Come on, I insist!" Komaeda, well, insisted.
"Komaeda, the only thing I'd like right now is some answers," Hajime responded testily.
"Oh, don't worry, you'll get your answers," Komaeda assured.
Hajime bit his lip, realizing that the promise could allow him benefits that far outweighed possible drawbacks. "...alright, then. If you say so."
Komaeda smiled and rose from his seat. Although, something that struck Hajime as odd was the way the white-haired man just stood there for a few seconds after getting up, his arms reaching outwards as if he was trying to regain balance.
"A-Are you okay?" Hajime asked apprehensively.
"I'm fine, just…" Komaeda chuckled humorlessly. "A little anemic."
A/N:
This update might've taken a little longer than what was expected. Sorry about that!
Anyway, there's not too much I have to say here. There is another Ace Attorney reference towards the end, though that one's pretty obvious to anyone who has played those games as well.
Also, the way Nagito dodges questions and only divulges a little information at a time is written to be similar to the way you can see that Nagito in-game basically has the entire case solved but doesn't spoil the mystery to the others solely because he likes watching the others put it together by themselves. And, yes, this is probably extremely frustrating for Hajime to deal with. Poor guy :(
So, what did you think about this chapter? What was your favorite part? Any ideas on who the culprit might be?
Lol, I probably sound like an English teacher, but I really love to hear everyone's feedback.
Hope you enjoyed it!