Okay, this is going to be the last update in a while. Maybe. (I'm on my Thanksgiving break right now, but it ends in a few days and I've yet to start my homework.) There's a huge rant about the whole school situation on my profile, and in the last chapter of School Days. But basically, I'm on the verge of failing science and I can't risk taking any time from my studies to write these things. There will still be updates--I intend to finish my stories--but they won't be as frequent.

Thanks to Shibataea for editing this, and with that said, enjoy.

Needless to say, Oshitari was not looking forward to the Seigaku interrogations.

For one, he highly doubted that Seigaku was any more sane than RikkaiDai had been, what with their infamous Inui Juice—which had apparently been turned into a health drink, the poor civilians—their notorious sadist, their rock of a captain . . . And if RikkaiDai was any proof, he'd say that the graduates hadn't changed at all.

For another, he honestly wanted to do the Hyotei questioning first, though he had to admit, it wasn't really for the sake of the case.

It just seemed like a decent excuse to see Gakuto.

It'd been a while, he persuaded himself. And it's not as if I have any other chances to talk to him. He chose to ignore the fact that he had the phone number Hiyoshi had provided him.

Why was he so nervous about talking to him, anyway? It was just Gakuto. The same Gakuto he'd played doubles with, the same Gakuto he'd teased Shishido and Ohtori with, the same Gakuto he went to high school with.

Though he had to admit, he couldn't exactly say Gakuto was the same.

"Stop moping," someone said. "It's not like I want to be here, either."

Oshitari looked up, mildly perturbed by the impertinent tone of voice, only to see Echizen Ryoma, arms folded and glaring down at him. Clearly, his years as a tennis player had made him chattier—and not any less arrogant. "You don't seem any more cheery about it," he pointed out. "And if you'd be so kind as to knock, next time, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Echizen frowned and seated himself. "Then close the door," he said flatly, pulling down his ever-present cap. "Mada mada dane."

"Right," Oshitari muttered. "Where were you on the day of the reunion?"

"I came here with Momo-san," he said, and promptly frowned again. "That sounds strange. I came here with Momo-senpai," he amended. "We were late because he wanted to get something to eat, even though he already had two burgers before leaving."

"I would have expected you to come with Tezuka," Oshitari said. "Don't you two play professional tennis?"

"We play tennis. We don't sleep over and braid each other's hair."

Oshitari coughed discreetly, earning him a glare. "Go on."

Echizen shrugged. "There isn't much else. I talked to some people, and then Niou-san was killed."

"No strange behavior, or . . .?"

"No."

"Were you previously associated with Niou?"

"We all played tennis together. I never talked to him, if that's what you mean."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

Oshitari took back whatever he said about Echizen being chatty.

---

Kaidoh Kaoru was an interesting character. For one, he looked an awful lot like a snake, and greeted Oshitari with a "Fshh."

"Good day to you too," he replied, mildly amused. "Have a seat. Kaidoh Kaoru, yes?"

Kaidoh grunted in reply.

Were all Seigaku graduates this laconic? Oshitari could feel a migraine coming on. Why couldn't they be more talkative? "Where were you on the day of the reunion?"

"I was at the gym for an hour, and then I went to the party alone. I didn't speak to anyone outside of the Seigaku graduates. Everything was as usual."

"Did you know Niou personally?"

"Seigaku played RikkaiDai in middle school and high school. I never played against him myself." He hesitated for a moment. "I—" He huffed and made to leave. "Fuji-san might know something. He's perceptive."

---

"Ah, I remember when we played tennis in the nationals," Momoshiro mused. "You beat me, even though I used my intuitive tennis . . . But then that Viper won his match. It's not right, it's just not."

"Where were you on the day of the reunion?" Oshitari regretted wishing the Seigaku regulars were chattier. Kaidoh and Echizen might have been unwilling to talk, but Momoshiro refused to shut up.

"Oh, I was with Echizen, grabbing a few burgers. That ungrateful brat, complaining the whole way there. He said I'd had something to eat already, and my stomach was a bottomless pit or something, but that's not true because technically the last time I'd eaten was three hours ago, and the walk to the hotel was really long."

"And what did you do at the reunion?" he prompted.

"I talked to people, went to the buffet table—you know, stuff. I don't really remember who I talked to, though. It's too bad, it just is. Hmm . . . I remember talking to everyone from Seigaku. You know, I think I did speak to Niou-san, but it was a quick hello. We didn't talk much. Nothing out of the ordinary. He seemed pretty upbeat. I'd say it was around an hour before the announcement."

Oshitari wrote it down. "Did you know Niou personally?"

"I did; I was his psychiatrist."

"He had a psychiatrist? He doesn't seem like the sort to have a mental disorder."

Momoshiro laughed. "He didn't. And yeah, he didn't like coming much. It was just routine stuff—I think it was Yagyuu-san who made him come, probably to make sure the stardom thing didn't go to his head. Anyway, the only thing we did at those sessions was talk about old times, so there's not much to tell."

"There's nothing else, then?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, Fuji-san was also his psychiatrist. We work together. Yagyuu-san insisted on it—I really don't know why. I'm still an assistant, you know. I did the routine work for Fuji-san, and he took care of the rest. I don't really know what they did during their sessions, though." He smiled sheepishly.

And his pupils dilated.

---

For the most part, Inui, Oishi, and Kawamura were completely clueless. Inui had spent almost the entire party with Yanagi, whereas Kawamura had spent it with Oishi, trying to prevent Kaidoh and Momoshiro from killing one another. It was odd—time hadn't mellowed out their tempers much.

But then Oishi said, "Eiji seemed awfully distressed when he heard about Niou's death. I can't imagine why. He'd never known Niou personally."

---

Eiji was next, and Oshitari noticed his eyes seemed to be a bit red-rimmed. "Are you alright?"

Eiji sniffled. "Yeah, I—I just . . . it's nothing."

He was a bit disbelieving, but didn't press the matter any further. "Where were you during the reunion, then?"

"I walked there with Fuji," he said tearfully. "He—he was so excited about getting to see everyone again. We go to the same university—we're roommates. We never keep secrets from each other."

The sentences seemed detached, scrambled, but Oshitari stayed silent.

"When we got there, Fuji was all over the place, talking to people. Me too, I guess. I lost track of time a bit, and of course when I found Oishi, I just kind of forgot about stuff. We were talking about middle school and high school, but then Atobe said Niou was dead, and . . . It's so sad," he wailed, and his bouncy red hair seemed to droop a bit in response.

"Were you previously acquainted with him?"

"Niou? No," Eiji said. "I played a match against him when I was fourteen, I think. Fuji was friends with him, though."

"I heard."

"From who? What'd you hear?" Eiji demanded.

Oshitari was startled. "From Momoshiro. I'd heard that Fuji was Niou's psychiatrist."

"He was. They were friends. That's it," he said fiercely, and kept his moody attitude for the rest of the interrogation.

---

"I apologize if my former classmates and teammates have been a nuisance," were the first words out of Tezuka's mouth.

Oshitari smiled, relieved to have someone mildly normal to talk to. "It's fine. They provided some interesting information."

Tezuka visibly stiffened. "I see."

"Eiji was acting rather strange," he mused. "Did something happen with Fuji that day?"

"I wouldn't know," Tezuka replied calmly. "I did speak to Fuji—for the majority of the gathering. Several people came to greet us, but I never held a lengthy conversation with any of them. I did not speak to Niou."

"Did Fuji?"

"He did. I do not know what they talked about, but I assume it was something about Fuji's work."

Back to laconic, then. "Tell me," Oshitari said, slowly—deliberately, "do you believe Fuji could have been a part of this murder?"

Tezuka's expression darkened. "I do not appreciate what you are insinuating about my teammates, Oshitari. Fuji is not a murderer."

"I didn't say he was," he replied. "I asked if he could have been a part of it. He is as likely to be a witness as he is a murderer. But what do you think?"

"You're testing me," Tezuka said. His eyes glinted, and his pupils didn't dilate when he added, "I know absolutely nothing about the murder at Atobe's reunion. I did not speak to Niou, was not acquainted with him, and as far as I'm concerned, neither was Fuji."

---

Fuji's smile was rather eerie as he entered the room. "You must have heard some interesting things about me," he said sweetly.

"Would you deny them?"

"I might, I might not." He seemed amused. "You see, this is all very baffling. You must have had a horrific time interrogating all these people. As an investigator, you can't really force people to tell you the truth. It's awfully hard to tell lies from truth, isn't it, Oshitari?" He leaned forward in his seat and smiled.

"You seem to be enjoying this," he murmured, "for someone who's suspected by two of his teammates."

"Am I, now? Then let me ask: Do you suspect me?"

"I think I ought to."

He leaned back again. "Then suspect me. As a matter of fact, I am enjoying this. Niou's death was unfortunate—he was quite a gifted individual, and had a curious way of thinking. I will miss him, I think. But this process—" He gestured to the papers scattered on Oshitari's desk. "This process, of finding the murderer—I think it'll prove to be fairly entertaining."

"Are you really so indifferent to this?"

"Of course not. Niou and I were close." His eyes flashed open for a moment. "I don't believe he has ever directly wronged anyone."

"But indirectly?"

"He was that sort of person." The tension faded, and Fuji went back to his friendly smile. "Isn't it sinister, Oshitari, that the murderer could be anyone? Anyone at all? From his best friend, to my best friend . . . to your best friend."

"Gakuto?" he asked, astonished. "Gakuto isn't a murderer."

"But he's changed, hasn't he?"

"He went to France for several years, of course he's changed," Oshitari replied defensively.

Yes, Fuji was definitely enjoying this, the sadistic son of a— "Think about it, Oshitari. Mukahi used to be so cheery and reckless. I take note of people's personalities, their traits. Don't you think Mukahi's more calculating now? Quieter. The murderers are usually the quiet ones, anyway."

"You're being outrageous," Oshitari retorted.

"Perhaps it was just the strangeness of being back in Japan," Fuji concluded. "He could go back to being chirpy at any time. Once he's settled in, he'll go back to being your feisty Mukahi Gakuto." He bared his teeth in a smile. "He can switch personas at any time, but the secrets will remain the same."

"What secrets?"

"I don't know," he said, still smiling. "That's why they're called secrets."

"Gakuto isn't keeping anything from me. You're doing this on purpose, and you're not answering my questions."

"You didn't ask any," Fuji pointed out. He stood. "Really, Oshitari. You've no right to question and suspect my teammates when you can't get over the bias toward yours. As it is, you'll never solve the case. Anybody could have been the murderer—including Gakuto. In fact, he's as likely to be the murderer as you are, seeing how Niou was such a fan of Hyotei."

Before Oshitari could ask what he meant, the brunet was gone.

If you didn't know, when someone's pupils dilate, it means he or she is lying.