Kirigiri Novel Book 1

Chapter 1: Murder at the Sirius Observatory 1, Part 1

I had apparently collapsed in one of the guest rooms. Gradually my memory became more distinct.

It's okay, I can remember.

My name is... Yui Samidare, age 16. I'm a detective.

By the request of a prominent figure, we five detectives had been gathered here at the Sirius Observatory. A detective lives for requests like this one. All the more so if they're requests that imply hidden secrets; we can't avert our eyes from the allure.

But the person who made the request never showed up.

At this point it was already a little past suspicion. We were tricked. Someone was plotting out a crime when they gathered us here, and that's how I ended up in this mess.

Now that the situation was clear, dread began to settle in. I didn't know who was responsible for this, but these strange circumstances had stolen my freedom from me completely. More than anything, the fact that I was toyed with while I was unconscious gave me goosebumps. I wondered if they did anything weird to me. For the time being, my only solace was that I had no pain or external injuries.

Putting my glasses back on properly from where they had been lying askew, I took a look around the room.

My backpack was sitting on top of the bed. That probably means this is my room. The curtains on the window were drawn. I couldn't see outside, but I could tell that it definitely wasn't light out there. Maybe it was nighttime, or maybe it was because of the snow...

A telescope was set up in the room. That wasn't something I had brought there, but something that had been there originally. But I remembered that I hadn't been able to look at the stars in the sky because of all the snow that had been falling.

I suddenly turned to look over my shoulder. The door to the room was closed, so I couldn't see the state of the pentagonal hall.

It's too quiet... What about everyone else? Why isn't anyone kicking up a fuss about this?

Maybe everyone else was restrained like me, and they can't move either. Or maybe they're still unconscious.

I didn't know who was doing this and what they were planning, but I couldn't let them keep doing as they pleased. I had to stand up to them. I was a detective, after all.

First of all, I had to do something about those handcuffs. I couldn't stand up as long as I was tied to the leg of the bed. There was a keyhole at the base of the chain, but I couldn't find the key.

I probably can't just drag the bed along with me...

Hm?

The bed's legs were four columns, one on each of the four corners. The handcuffs were attached to one of them. But like this... When I really thought about it, I realized that if I could just lift up the bed, I could slip the handcuffs out from under the leg. It was a regular wooden bed that couldn't be more than a twin size. It was pretty safe to say it was within my power.

I grabbed the leg of the bed and lifted it up right away. Even for someone like me, who didn't have much arm strength, I was able to lift it just barely. That was enough. I only needed to make a gap large enough to slip the handcuffs free from the bed leg.

On the count of three, I gathered my strength and lifted the leg of the bed a few more centimeters. I removed the handcuffs through that gap.

All right! Regaining my freedom was actually pretty easy!

I wondered if the person who got me in this mess thought that a girl wouldn't be strong enough to lift the bed. If that's the case, I have to give thanks for their negligence.

Finally, I was able to get to my feet. I felt a little lightheaded, but it was fine. I did some light stretches to loosen up my body. No problem. I've got this.

Handcuffs dangling from my right arm, I softly opened the door and peered into the central pentagonal hall. No one was there. I prudently confirmed the status of my surroundings as I went out into the hall.

A short, round wooden table was placed in the middle of the hall. Apparently, there used to be a round, iron pedestal there with a gigantic telescope, but it had been removed a long time ago.

Now all there was to see was empty space.

The hall was quiet, with no one to be seen. A glance at the analog clock on the wall told me it was past twelve o'clock. Judging from how dark it had been outside, it was probably midnight, right after the date had rolled over.

Where did everyone go? I considered calling out, but I abandoned that idea.

What's that...?

As I was moving around the table, I saw two young legs poking out. Black loafers and black knee-high socks. At that moment, I understood who they belonged to. One of the other detectives who had accompanied me—

Kyouko Kirigiri.

She was splayed across the floor with her legs out. It looked like she had somehow collapsed face down. She didn't show any signs of movement.

I went around the table and drew closer, my gaze running up her legs. They were very frail legs. The slender curves running from her calves to her pale thighs told of her girlish physical immaturity. The pristine pleats of her skirt were intact, fanning out from her hips onto the floor.

Is she okay...?

Just as I was about to move closer to her, my feet stopped on their own. Her head was lying on its right side, as if turning to face me directly. Her braid was draped across her cheek, concealing her small mouth. Her eyes were closed. Her skin looked cold, without any sense of body heat, and although that wasn't much different from how she looked when I first met her, now it looked even more conspicuous.

She's not... dead, is she?

No—her small back was moving up and down, just slightly.

Is she just unconscious?

I couldn't tell from far away, but I hesitated to get closer to her to confirm her life status. Because a giant, bloodstained pair of shears had been dropped right next to her right hand.

Were they pruning shears, maybe? They were the type that needed two hands to operate. The sturdy blades looked like they could cut through any branch, no matter how thick. Usually they would be used to prune trees or shrubs, but when you think about what they would have had to cut in order to get bloodstains all over them—

At first I thought it might have been her blood, but I couldn't see any injuries on her. I couldn't see any traces of blood on her clothes or on the floor, either.

Then whose blood was on the shears? Judging by the fact that they were dropped by her hand, was she actually the one who used them as a weapon? My fear of the situation made me hesitate to move closer.

What in the world had happened to Kyouko Kirigiri? And whose blood could that possibly be? I had to find out!