I . . . might be taking a hiatus.

I definitely intend to finish this story (because as my friend told me, leaving a murder mystery unfinished is just not cool), but as for my other stories, I'm not really sure. Or, I'll just push a rushed ending in there, but that might be even worse than leaving it unfinished.

It's not so much that I'm getting busier (which is also true). It's just, many of my friends from FFnet have left already, or aren't updating as often. Some of the most amazing writers on the fandom are either drifting away from the fandom or have stopped writing for it altogether. There are still some really amazing writers out there, but in two years, the Prince of Tennis archives have had a four hundred page increase, and some of those stories are just—not readable. Please don't think I'm insulting any of the writers on this fandom—I respect you all, and everybody has the right to post their creative works here, really. But while I have a respect for all writers and the hard work they do, this fandom just isn't what it used to be. I don't know if it'll ever return to what it was, but as of now . . .

And note that it's just a hiatus. It's not a definite permanent leave, and I'll probably still drift back with one-shots, and things like that. Hell, I'm not even sure if I'm going to take a hiatus. So don't make too much out of this, 'kay? I'm still thinking about it, so we'll see.

(Ooh, two of my Disney references have been caught, haha. Three left to go! Although, I kind of doubt that any of you will even remember to look for the reference, considering the fact that the murderer is revealed in this chapter. By the way, this isn't the full denouement. The rest of the denouement will be in the next chapter, so no worries there. I'm going to have a lot to explain in the next chapter . . . oh, my. Ooh, if you guys have any questions, feel free to ask! I'll answer them to the best of my ability.)

There was a public concert, and Yuushi had been looking forward to it for weeks. Gakuto, once he heard about it, insisted on coming along.

Not that Yuushi wouldn't have invited him anyway, but it was nice to have the stubborn brat back.

Yuushi flipped open his cell phone with practiced ease. The concert was to start in half an hour, and he'd have to hurry if he wanted to make it in time. It rather embarrassed him that he'd spent about an hour just trying to decide on an outfit, but he concluded that making such an effort was worth it—for Gakuto.

A simple dress shirt and slacks. He wasn't sure if the concert would be formal, but considering it was a public concert, he doubted it. The advertisement said to bring lawn chairs or towels to sit on, and that honestly didn't seem like a suit-and-tie occasion to Yuushi.

The snow outside had completely melted, and if Yuushi looked hard, he could see the beginnings of plant sprouts on the streets. It pleased him to know that spring was so fast to approach.

If only he could solve the case as quickly.

He shook his head and reached for a jacket. This wasn't the time to think about the case.

. . . well, maybe it was, but he didn't particularly want to think about it.

He was going to spend a night out with Gakuto, after all. The last thing he wanted to think about was murder.

Ironic, he thought, when only last week, just thinking of Gakuto brought the case to mind.

It was getting dark—still far from summer, he supposed. Most people were known for feeling gloomy during winter. Suicide rates rose, or something akin to that. But Yuushi could barely contain a feeling of elation as he walked out the door.

The walk to the site of the concert was short. It was in a park not far from Yuushi's home, but he wasn't sure where Gakuto was staying. It was like him to be late, Yuushi knew, and he prepared himself for a long wait.

He really didn't expect to see Gakuto already there, arms folded, waiting for him.

Decked out in a slim fitting hoodie and jeans.

His eyes lit up as he caught sight of Yuushi, and gave a casual wave. "You're early."

Yuushi laughed. "So are you."

"I thought I'd be late," he admitted, "so I came early. I didn't think I'd be this early, though. It was getting chilly."

Yuushi pulled off his jacket and offered it to him. "I'm wearing layers," he said, when Gakuto began to protest. "It's fine."

The redhead took it blushingly, and put it on without saying much of anything. "It's nice," he muttered.

It was his classic, ineloquent way of saying "thank you." Yuushi smiled knowingly and said, "You're welcome."

It was only an hour into the concert, and Gakuto looked annoyed.

Gakuto told off the seventh girl that began flirting with Yuushi, irritated. She stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes and sharp features, then Yuushi's arm around his waist, and backed away. "It's a concert, not a dating session!" he called after her. Yuushi chuckled.

"Jealous?" he teased.

Gakuto gave him an indignant look. "Am not," he protested. "They . . . just a little."

Yuushi laughed and pulled him closer. "You have several admirers too," he said pointedly, and glanced at the group of girls openly ogling the redhead.

Gakuto grinned. "Jealous?"

"Just a little," he drawled.

They sat in a companionable silence, listening to the concert intently. Then the couple sitting in front of them began giggling and kicking their feet up in the air. The people in front of them began playfighting, and Gakuto rolled his eyes. "People who didn't come here to appreciate music shouldn't have come at all," Yuushi commented, once the piece ended.

"I wish something would—shut them up," Gakuto fumed. "It's so annoying. The concert isn't a fucking buffet, or a gossip session, or a photography session. It's a concert." He gave the couple in front of him a dirty look, but said couple was too busy flirting to pay him any mind. "They have no idea how annoying they are, do they?"

"Probably not," Yuushi acknowledged.

"There's got to be something to make them stop," he muttered sotto voce.

A slow smirk spread across Yuushi's face, and he drawled, "There is."

The redhead snorted. "Like hell," he said disdainfully. "I swear, I'm never coming to a public concert again. It's full of lunatics."

His voice was soft enough for all the insults to escape undetected, and he continued mumbling under his breath, coming close to insulting everybody within a five meter radius of him. Yuushi chuckled a little, then tilted Gakuto's chin toward him.

"Yuushi?" he asked, curious. There was a barely noticeable blush spreading across his face. "What are you doing?"

"Having some fun," Yuushi murmured. "You should try it."

"Oh, I should try it? Who's the one holed up in his office all day, doing paperwork?" Gakuto retorted.

The next piece began. "Shh." Yuushi leaned a little farther in, and brushed his lips against Gakuto's.

Both of them were very aware of the sudden stares that followed. The chatter slowed and quieted for a moment, then rose again, while Gakuto stared questioningly. "I never thought you'd be the type for PDA," he commented quietly. "You're a lot more subtle than that."

"Only when it's you," Yuushi replied. His fond smile twisted into a smirk. "And it's convenient, is it not?"

Gakuto burst into a grin. The mischief in it was wonderfully familiar. "Very," he agreed, and grabbed his tie, pulling him in for another kiss.

This one was much less quiet, and much less chaste. One gasp, and a light kiss turned fiercely French. The music in the background was loud and fervent. Yuushi gently pushed him down onto the grass, and Gakuto reached up for him.

The sudden silence that ensued was very, very welcomed.

People were suddenly too embarrassed to look at one another, and focused on the concert. All crinkling and whispering vanished-people sat rigidly, staring at the orchestra, the conductor, everywhere except them. Gakuto and Yuushi exchanged a sly, satisfied smile, and listened intently to the music that followed.

Yuushi had missed the mischief—it was really much more enjoyable with Gakuto, he realized. Everything was.

But that really wasn't a surprising revelation at all.

He reached for Gakuto's hand, which softened into his touch. The redhead leaned against him, a silent, contented sigh slipping from his lips.

...

"'m sleepy," Gakuto mumbled.

It was eleven PM, almost twelve AM, and it'd been a while since Yuushi had last stayed up so late. He was tired, even though he hadn't really done anything except listen to music for the majority of the day. He couldn't really speak for Gakuto, but assumed he felt the same.

He wasn't looking forward to returning home, to be honest. It was empty, too big for one person. He considered asking Gakuto to move in with him, and wondered if it'd be too fast. But back in middle school, Gakuto had slept over more often than not, making Yuushi sleep on the floor or the couch, slipping into his room and having dinner with his
parents so often that he was almost one of the family. Would they ever go back to that?

There were hundreds of other people also walking home, most of them in groups. "Where's the hotel you're staying at?" Yuushi inquired.

Gakuto snorted. "Far from here," he said in annoyance. "I took the train here." He shrugged, but the shrug was small and halfhearted, like he'd lost the energy to move. "I won't be staying there long, anyway, so I guess it doesn't really matter."

"You're going back to France?" Yuushi asked, surprised. He hadn't really thought about it, and for a while, he'd forgotten that Gakuto was studying—and living—abroad. It made sense; Gakuto had lived there for the past few years, and he hardly knew Japan well anymore.

Gakuto looked guilty. "I don't know," he admitted. He leaned a little closer. "I kind of assumed I was. I mean, I have friends there, y'know? And I've been studying there for a while now..." He hesitated. "But I don't want to leave this," he continued softly. "I don't know."

"If you do go back to France, I'd go with you," Yuushi said, "as long as you'd want me to. And if you stay in Japan—I'd stay with you, too." It was dark, and he let his lips brush against Gakuto's hair. "Whatever you want."

Gakuto looked away, and Yuushi knew that, had it been daytime, he would have seen Gakuto's blush.

They walked in silence for a few moments. Then Gakuto turned to Yuushi, blue eyes wide and bright even in the night, and asked, "Can I stay over, tonight? I don't want to go back to that hotel."

Just like before.

Same arrangements, too?

"Of course," he replied. "I'll sleep on the couch—"

"You don't have to," Gakuto interrupted. "Is your bed big enough?"

Yuushi looked at him in the darkness, considered this, and smiled a slow smile. "Yes, alright."

…

Gakuto was curled up against his side when Yuushi woke up, and he had to smile.

A tiny ball—he looked so petite, so small. He is small, Yuushi thought, amused, and got up quietly, deciding to let Gakuto sleep a while longer. It wasn't the redhead's fault that Yuushi had a tendency to wake up at unholy hours in the morning.

He'd have to get back to work on the case, too. Yuushi reached for the premade cup of coffee. It was cold from sitting there so long, but Yuushi took a long sip of it, anyway. It amazed him how he was so calm this morning—he noted that it might have been the first morning in a month in which he didn't wake up frazzled.

Yesterday night, he thought, and set the mug down.

He'd never really considered that Gakuto could move back to France, but now that he thought about it . . . It was reasonable. And yet Yuushi wasn't sure if he could leave Tokyo—or Japan. He'd spent twenty-one years of his life here, and moving to another continent seemed overwhelming.

He wondered how Gakuto had felt about it, suddenly moving to Europe. Being in a completely foreign society, having to start over—he wondered how Gakuto had managed it. Still in his teenage years, no less.

Gakuto was really something.

He fetched the newspaper from the doorstep, and unrolled it. It was rare that he had the opportunity to enjoy leisure time like this, and he wanted to take advantage of it. He was only on the second page, though, when he heard a loud thump.

A yawn. "G'morning, Yuushi," a low voice mumbled. "Why d'you wake up so early?"

Well, speak of the devil.

"I only woke up about fifteen minutes ago," Yuushi murmured. "You're an early riser, yourself."

Gakuto snorted. "I rolled over and almost fell off the bed. Trust me, I don't usually wake up this early."

"You poor, unfortunate soul," Yuushi teased, and offered him some coffee.

He shook his head and made his way to Yuushi's refrigerator. "Do you have apple juice or something?"

"Help yourself."

His head still stuck in the fridge, Gakuto called, "So how's the case going?"

"It's at a stasis," Yuushi replied regretfully. "Nothing's happening."

"That's probably a good thing," the redhead commented. "You don't want someone else to die, do you?"

"That's one way of putting it."

The refrigerator door slammed shut, and Gakuto strolled over to the living room sofa with a glass of apple juice in his hand. "So, you're at a dead end or something?" He took a sip and looked thoughtfully at Yuushi, who sat down next to him.

"I've thought of everything," he said, and had it been anyone else, it would've sounded like he was whining. "Motives, methods, and reasons. There's nothing else to consider."

Gakuto tilted his head to one side. "I'm no mystery expert, but . . ."

"You've read your fair share of Agatha Christie novels." Yuushi chuckled. "What?"

Gakuto shrugged. "I dunno." He grabbed the remote control, leaned back, and turned on the television. "But shouldn't you be thinking about opportunity, too?"

Opportunity.

It was the one thing he'd skipped through.

And while it didn't exactly narrow down the search to one person, it reminded him that there was something else to consider.

His mind mentally flipped through all the notes he'd taken for the past few months, and he sat there in silence for a few moments, while Gakuto entertained himself with mindless reality shows.

"That's it."

Gakuto turned to look at him. "Wow, you look like you just saw a kitten get hit by a car. What's it?"

Yuushi staggered up, and Gakuto reached to steady him. "I need to go to the office right away," he said distractedly.

"Is it about the case?" Gakuto seemed startled when Yuushi nodded. "It's only been, like, half an hour. How did you solve the whole bloody case in half an hour?"

"Opportunity," Yuushi said, sounding dazed. "I can't believe I forgot it—opportunity. Thank you, Gakuto—I'll be back before eight PM."

"PM? Where are you going?"

"It's probably best if you don't call me," Yuushi continued. "Chances are I'll be busy the entire day."

Gakuto nodded briefly as Yuushi got dressed and prepared to leave. "Hey, Yuushi."

"Yes?"

He hesitated, then said, "I'll be praying for you both."

Yuushi's tense expression softened into a ghost of a smile. "Thank you."

He dialed Hiyoshi's number as quickly as he could, and to his relief, Hiyoshi picked up almost immediately. "What's up?"

"I know who the murderer is."

Hiyoshi asked, surprised, "Have you called the police already? I haven't gotten any calls from my superiors, though. Can I help?"

"This may be a special circumstance," Yuushi murmured. "Yes, I do need your help. But we'll need to plan this out."

"Where do you want to meet up?"

"Sumida River," Yuushi said. "There won't be many people there on a weekday morning."

"I got it," Hiyoshi replied knowingly. "Good call, Oshitari-san. I'll be there as soon as possible."

Hiyoshi was already there when Yuushi arrived, and he spared a welcoming smile to his friend and colleague before settling on the grass next to him. "You probably should've called the police, first," Hiyoshi pointed out.

"You are the police."

Hiyoshi shrugged. "I don't think I'd be able to catch a murderer, though."

"True enough," Yuushi acknowledged.

"So what'd you find out?"

"I'd been thinking of motives this entire time, and that was what distracted me. Motives brought the relationships between victims and survivors to a new light entirely, and they did assist me in the case—but it wasn't what helped me solve it." Yuushi shifted on the grass, and held his bag in his arms. "To be honest, I solved the case in about fifteen minutes, this morning."

Hiyoshi arched an eyebrow. "Two months of detective work, and you solve the case in fifteen minutes, before eight AM?"

Yuushi chuckled. "Ironic, isn't it?"

Hiyoshi grinned. "As expected of a genius."

"Good to know my reputation remains untarnished," Yuushi joked. Hiyoshi, he realized, was one of the few people who shared his sense of humor. And it relieved him to know that even at such a time, they'd be able to talk the way they had, as children.

He really was invaluable.

Yuushi was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of appreciation for his friend. "I couldn't have solved this case without you," he continued. "You've done so much to assist me. The people, the motives, even the paperwork—I don't know what I would've done without you. And with Gakuto." He let out a sharp laugh. "I owe you one for that, too."

"It was the least I could do," Hiyoshi replied sincerely. "I'm really glad you two are together, now."

"He helped me to solve this case, you know," Yuushi commented offhandedly. "He's always been very perceptive."

"Yeah, I know." Hiyoshi frowned. "I'm cool with reminiscing and accepting gratitude and all, but don't you have a murderer to catch?"

"All business as usual," Yuushi commented. A breeze brushed by, and he continued, "It really is nice weather today. Good enough for a proper denouement." He paused for a moment. "It was complicated. There were six deaths to consider, after all, and nearly thirty suspects. At the same time, it seemed impossible that any of us could have been the murderer—these were all people we knew from school, after all. We'd been friends and rivals with all of them. So that was hard to deal with.

"I won't go into the full denouement just yet. I'll touch on the psychology—and after I've revealed the murderer, I'll go more in depth. Because, you see, most of the case had to do with our backgrounds and stories; our relationships in the past were what affected this future, and to be honest, the explanation won't make much sense if you don't know who the murderer is, anyway.

"It took a lot of research—I had to ask various people for information, and I had to make some wild guesses of my own. It was all about the relationships, in the end—I couldn't have solved the case without knowing about Shishido's and Ohtori's relationship, the inheritance issue, Marui's romance with Niou's sister, the death of Niou's brother and the loss of Yagyuu's sister—and, of course, the relationship between Niou and the murderer. And that's only to name a few. Fuji, Inui, Kikumaru—in the end, everything interwove.

"I admit I'd been preoccupied with Gakuto for most of the case; I'd suspected him more than anyone else, especially when Fuji started pushing me in that direction. The entire case was complicated—and broad—there was too much to consider. So I started from the beginning, and focused on psychology. With psychology in mind, one person stood out.

"Niou had an interesting mind frame. He'd lost his younger brother, just as Yagyuu had lost his younger sibling. I'd overheard Yukimura's conversation with Marui's lover—Yagyuu's younger sister had left to study abroad, and he'd been devastated. Yagyuu, while he didn't show it, needed somebody to take care of. Kirihara was grown, and he really didn't have to bother—but he needed someone to help. It might've come from the constant years of helping his sister, watching over Kirihara, and guarding Niou—but it became a habit. So he became an entertainment manager. Niou happened to be in the acting business, too—they worked out an agreement. And Niou was the dangerous sort. He played games, and he made enemies on purpose. He needed someone to protect him—because part of what made the game so entertaining was the fact that he refused to protect himself.

"So he consciously let Yagyuu take care of him; his business, his relationships, his well-being. It was his idea of kindness—and it was kindness. It was mutually beneficial, and I suppose Yagyuu realized what Niou was doing at one point or another. Remember when he was looking at Niou's corpse? Remember what he said?"

…

"You idiot. Too reckless, that's what you are; you thought you knew it all, didn't you? Do you think I didn't know what you were doing? Thank you."

…

"But in that aspect, Niou also needed someone—someone stable—to be with him. Yagyuu was the one unchanging friend he had; or at least, the only friend close enough to him. He was friends with the other ex-regulars—but not quite on the same level. Maybe it was because both he and Yagyuu had suffered the loss of a loved one that he found it easier to connect with him.

"And yet, he kept up his games. He enjoyed getting close to people, and then breaking off their relationship. It amused him—especially when he could see who was emotionally fragile and who wasn't. He was always perceptive like that—and he was always a trickster. It was easy to fool those who were susceptible, and easier to fool those who needed that sort of affection. He acted the part well—lover, best friend, brother. It was easy for him to gain a person's affection; he was charismatic, and a good enough actor to make his words seem sincere. And that was what made it all the more devastating to the victim, when he left them.

"So you see, it all comes back to Niou. It began with him, and it ends with him. I was thinking too much about the other deaths to pay attention to any one murder. It made sense, though, when I looked at it in a new light—suppose all the other murders were to cover up the first murder? Suppose someone had seen the first murder being committed, and suppose that person was killed. And, of course, murder is a habit. The thrill of it—the idea that one will never be able to get caught—is addicting. So one murder became two, two became three—and now we have six murders, six deaths."

Hiyoshi frowned. "You're right, but what makes you think there's only one murderer?"

Yuushi shook his head. "There are two. And that was another red herring—unintentional, but it worked to the murderer's advantage. One of the murders was different from the others—and completely unrelated. Marui's death was the only one not by force. It doesn't seem to make much of a difference—but it's the psychology behind it that sets it apart. Marui's death was done entirely in public. There were dozens of people present, sitting right there—and yet nobody had seen it happen. It took a special sort of bravado to do that. And yet, the murderer hadn't used a gun, or force. The murderer had chosen to use poison.

"This murder didn't fit with any of the previous murders. The psychology was different—it had to be a different person. Besides, neither Marui nor Inui were on my list of suspects. And yet Marui was killed. There was really no reason for Marui to die—he hadn't seen anything. But he'd been in love with Niou's sister, and the loss of his best friend had torn him up badly. A desire for vengeance makes people do incredible things.

"He was desperate to pin the blame on someone, and suppose he'd heard Inui and Kikumaru talking? I heard them talking, once, and had I even missed one word, I might have assumed that either of them was the killer. Suppose the same thing happened to Marui? He finally had his culprit—or so he thought. So he invited Inui out to lunch, and poisoned his drink when Inui left, to use the restrooms."

Hiyoshi shook his head. "But Marui was the one who was killed."

Yuushi murmured, "Yes, exactly. You see, death by poison fit both Marui's and Inui's psychologies. Marui has the intelligence and cleverness to exert as little energy as possible to achieve spectacular results—he's playful, but not the violent type. Inui, meanwhile, finds poison an obvious choice; he's fit, but with his intelligence, he could easily find a way to use poison to his advantage. Inui is no fool—and at the time, Marui was too driven by anger to pay attention to any reckless mistakes. Inui noticed what Marui was trying to do, and noticed the change in behavior. In less than an instant, suppose when Marui wasn't looking—and there were many opportunities. Any moment, when nobody was paying attention, when Marui was talking to the waiter, Inui could have switched the drinks. They'd both ordered lemon iced tea, after all; he could've gotten away with switching the drinks. And he did. So Marui was killed by his own poison."

"Then, Inui was one of the murderers?"

"Yes, and it gave him a revelation," Yuushi continued. "He realized the psychology behind the different murders. Up until now, he'd suspected Fuji, because of Fuji's involvement with Niou and his supposed mental instability. But now he realized that Russian roulette—using physical force—didn't fit Fuji's psychology. Inui ruled out Fuji as a suspect, and realized who the murderer was in doing so. He tried to tell me, and that was his undoing.

"You see, that was another issue that was pressing me. Why did Inui die? Why not Fuji? Fuji had clearly known who the murderer was from the beginning, and yet he hadn't played any part in the murders. Inui, meanwhile, knew less than Fuji—in fact, he probably only knew the murderer's identity. So why was he killed, when he knew less—and why was Fuji spared? Did Inui know something more dire?

"It's ironic," Yuushi mused. "In the end, it was because Inui didn't know something—he didn't know he couldn't tell me. Fuji had pushed me to solve the case, but he'd never made any attempts to actually tell me who the murderer was. Fuji, after all, had majored in psychology. He knew psychology, he knew people—and Inui knew numbers.

"I took a gamble with that. Fuji had been acting odd, after all—but I assumed it was because he'd changed. We'd all changed. It wasn't in Fuji's nature to be so vindictive, nor to be so cruel, or taunting. He had a slightly sadistic nature, but he was kind, and most knew him to be gentle. Why was Fuji acting that way, then?

"So I worked backwards, and assumed otherwise. I assumed Fuji hadn't changed—that he'd retained his ideals and persona. But then, why would Fuji taunt and provoke me, if it wasn't in his personality. Because he wanted me to realize that somebody could change—or that I never knew who they were to begin with. You tried to help me realize that too, didn't you, Hiyoshi? That afternoon I'd had gone to the café with Gakuto, and that evening I'd returned to the office, discouraged—you'd told me that sometimes, we never know who people are to begin with. I should've paid more attention—because that was what solved the case.

"And then Gakuto reminded me to take note of opportunity, instead of focusing on motives and methods. Motives and methods had gotten me far—but he was right. I needed to consider opportunity more. Who had the opportunity to commit those murders? That narrowed the options down a little. Then, who had the physical capability? Inui, after all, was fairly tall and physically fit. Niou, too, and while Choutarou and Shishido hadn't put up a fight, it would've been difficult for someone weak to handle a gun so well. And who had the mental capability? Who had the motive, or the reason to do so?

"Eventually, I ended up eliminating all my suspects," Yuushi continued wryly. "Nobody fit the criteria. I was stumped—for two minutes or so. Was there more than one murderer, then? Two? Three? Was a group of murders conspiring against us? It was really something much simpler than that. I tried getting rid of the distractions. I ignored the Russian roulette, locations, small details. The big picture was very, very simple.

"Then I realized there was someone I hadn't considered."

…

"This is murder. There's never a guaranteed happy ending."

…

"It's a good way to see people's reactions."

…

"I wasn't that close to him."

…

"The murderer was someone we knew. Assuming it'd been a friend of Ohtori's—then yes, he might've done it willingly."

…

"He never did anything. If he'd just—been too busy for the party, or something. And he could've missed the reunion. Then he'd still—I don't know."

…

"It's not fair that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

…

"But sometimes, it turns out you never knew who they were to begin with."

…

"I'm the one nobody remembers."

…

"You can't let this go on anymore."

…

Yuushi looked at Hiyoshi intently, and murmured, "The murderer—the murderer is you, Hiyoshi, isn't it?"