"Hojo's murder wasn't just an ordinary death—it was murder."
A murmur of shock rippled through the classroom. The tension thickened. Manabu's heart skipped a beat. Murder?!...
"And the prime suspect," the officer continued.
Students had visible tension on their faces. Fear was evident on Leon's face. As the policeman spoke, "It's Mion."
The whole class was shocked, including Manabu. The classroom erupted into gasps and whispers, followed by stunned silence. Manabu felt his stomach drop. Even in Taiju and Mai's section, the same news was delivered, leaving the students in disbelief.
The officer continued, his voice cold and professional. "Last night—around 7 PM—Mr. Hojo was brutally killed at his residence. He was struck with an axe more than twenty times—ten blows to the face and various other parts of his body. The suspect allegedly carried the axe inside a violin case. Her fingerprints were found on the weapon. The suspect appears to have acted without gloves, leaving clear fingerprints on the weapon."
The room filled with tension. Leon started to shake as the officer provided more details.
"An old man, who lives in the neighborhood, visited his house for coffee but found the front door unlocked. Upon entering, he saw blood dripping down from the second floor; the stench of blood filled the place with horror. He immediately contacted the police. We discovered the body around 9 PM. As of now, the suspect is missing, and we've been actively searching for her since last night."
Manabu stood up abruptly. "Are you sure it's Mion? She's not the kind of person who would do something like this! Why would she kill our principal?"
The other students agreed and started arguing with the officer, but he slammed his hand on the table, silencing the room.
He looked at Manabu with annoyance but took a deep breath, composing himself.
"As I mentioned, she is our prime suspect based on the evidence, but that doesn't mean she's guilty. She could be the perpetrator or merely involved. We cannot conclude anything until we find her. So, is there anyone who may have knowledge about where she could be?"
No one spoke. The weight of the accusation hung heavily in the air. The officer looked at Manabu and repeated the question, but there was no response. Manabu didn't know what to say.
Leon was haunted by terror, his face visibly pale. He looked at Kenzo, who was standing outside, but he didn't seem happy at all. Leon couldn't maintain eye contact with him out of shame.
Before leaving, the officer issued a warning. "Fine. If any of you have or obtain any information related to Mion or this case, contact our department immediately. Do not attempt to interfere with the investigation; otherwise, you might face severe consequences. Thank you."
As they left, the atmosphere in the room remained thick with unease.
Teachers from other classes gathered in the Science-A section, concerned about Mion. Mai and Taiju peeked in for a while. Manabu clenched his fists. *It's all fucking bullshit. She has no reason for this.*
Manabu's mind was in turmoil. *Why is this happening? What is going on? Ever since Christmas… what the hell is going on?!*
He pressed his head, struggling to bear the mental pressure. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"Mion, accused of murder? No—it couldn't be. Mion isn't like that!"
His heart pounded in his chest as his mind raced through the possibilities.
Leon, standing across from him, looked pale and exhausted, his eyes reflecting the weight of something horrifying he had witnessed.
After school, as students left the building, Manabu remained seated at his desk, staring blankly at the ceiling with pale eyes. Taiju and Mai approached him, but Manabu dismissed their concern, saying he'd be fine. He grabbed his stuff, put it in his bag, and simply walked away.
Outside the classroom, Leon was waiting for everyone to leave. As soon as the coast was clear, he pulled Manabu aside. "Meet me at the school's backyard," he whispered urgently.
Confused, Manabu followed him to a secluded area behind the school, away from prying eyes.
"Manabu," Leon said, his voice low but firm. "I know where Mion is."
Manabu's eyes widened in shock. "What?! You know? And you didn't tell me earlier? Where is she?"
Leon hushed him. They walked deeper into the backyard, where Leon slung his bag over a tree branch, rummaged through it, and pulled out an envelope.
"Before you ask anything, look at this first."
He handed the envelope to Manabu, who snatched it, his fingers trembling as he pulled out a stack of photographs. His breath caught in his throat.
"These… These are Mion's pictures." He glanced at Leon, confusion deepening.
Leon took a deep breath and began his explanation.
"Yesterday, around 5 PM—I was at a shop to buy a camera I'd been saving up for. I even borrowed some money from my dad to finally get it. You may not know this, but I love taking pictures of insects and nature. When I left the store, I ran into Mion."
Manabu listened intently.
"She barely glanced at me, just said, 'Hello, so sorry! I'm in a rush, see ya!' and left."
Leon's eyes darkened. "I thought she was busy, so without saying anything, I followed her…"
Manabu's expression shifted. "Wait—why did you follow her? Were you suspicious of something?" he asked cautiously.
Leon scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed. "Look, buddy, nothing personal. I know she's your girl, but… ever since she hugged me on her birthday, I started to like her too. I thought maybe I'd get to know her address. That's why…"
Manabu didn't press further. He could sense the awkwardness in Leon's voice.
Leon cleared his throat and continued. "She stopped by this house…" He pointed at one of the pictures and handed it to Manabu. "Check the nameplate."
Manabu's eyes scanned the image, and his blood ran cold. The plate read: *Hojo Tetsuya*.
"What the hell…? That's not her house. I know where she lives. This is Hojo's residence…"
His voice trailed off as realization dawned upon him.
Leon nodded grimly. "Exactly. I was confused too when I saw the nameplate. But then I saw Mr. Hojo standing on his balcony, smoking."
Leon zoomed in with his camera and saw someone standing on the top floor. Hojo was there, smoking on his balcony while Leon took the pictures.
Leon felt chills run through his entire body. His instincts screamed at him. He had an idea why she might be there, but he tried to convince himself that Mion wouldn't do something so insane.
Mion, meanwhile, disappeared. Leon looked around from a distance and noticed the door was slightly open. Suddenly, the house went dark—she had cut the electrical connection.
"She had the key to Hojo's residence," Leon whispered, his throat dry.
She unlocked the door without making a sound and slowly entered the house. At the same time, Hojo vanished from his balcony.
Manabu stared at the pictures in his hands, his fingers trembling slightly. His mind raced. "How did she get those keys? What is going on?!"
Leon swallowed hard. "I was so scared… I was so stoned—'What should I do?! What should I do?!' Then I summoned some courage, and I followed her inside… without making a sound. I was scared, but… I needed to know what was going on. Even though I knew…" Leon whispered, his voice shaking.
"I was praying she wouldn't do what I was thinking. Even after what Hojo did—Mion can't do it, can she?" His breathing grew heavy. "And then… I heard it. A scream."
Manabu flipped to the last picture in the envelope. His stomach churned.
Mion stood in the middle of the room, an axe raised high, her face twisted with grim determination.
Hojo Tetsuya, covered in blood.
His arm was severed, torn flesh and splintered bone jutting from the stump. The axe had cleaved through his face, leaving a deep, ragged wound that split skin and muscle. His throat was nearly bisected, blood gushing from his neck, exposing his windpipe and the torn remains of his esophagus. His jaw hung loose, partially detached, his tongue protruding through a gaping hole beneath it.
Blood pooled beneath him, thickening the air with the metallic stench of death.
The image was so horrifying that Manabu nearly retched. He quickly pressed a hand over his mouth, forcing himself to stay composed.
She kept swinging the axe. Over and over and over again.
"I couldn't move. My whole body froze," Leon admitted, his voice shaking. "At that moment, I made a huge mistake. I didn't realize my camera was on auto-flash mode. When I took that picture… the flash caught her eyes."
Manabu's heart nearly stopped. "She saw you?"
Leon nodded shakily. "Maybe… But before she could react, I managed to get away. I ran like hell, hid in some alley for hours before I dared to go home. I was crying while looking at those pictures, blaming myself…"
"What have I done?"
After two hours, Leon finally gathered the courage to return home. But Manabu wasn't satisfied. He needed to know why she did it.
Leon realized he had yet to tell Manabu everything—about the night he met Mion after the murder.
He explained everything. What Mion had told him. Hojo's history. Mion's rage.
"Hojo was the killer of Naomi and Futaba—he did injustice to them, to her. Maybe that's why she killed him."
Manabu's fists clenched as the realization hit him. Everything had been happening right under their noses.
"This is your fault, Leon," Manabu growled, anger flashing in his eyes.
Leon flinched. He knew it was true.
Manabu's expression twisted in frustration. "That is exactly why she did this—she killed Naomi's killer. She served justice. But now everything is out of hand."
But Leon denied it. "That's not true. We still have a chance to save her. I know where she is."
Manabu's eyes widened. He grabbed Leon's shoulders, gripping them tightly. "Where is she?! Tell me!"
Manabu repeated his demand over and over.
Leon placed his hands on Manabu's arms, trying to calm him. "You gotta stay calm. I know I made mistakes, but this time, we will get through this. Don't worry!"
Manabu slowly released him, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He took a deep breath and asked, "If you knew everything already, why didn't you tell the police?"
Leon immediately shook his head. "No—No! Manabu, we can't tell the police. Think about it—Mion is already a suspect. If we tell them her hiding spot, she'll be guilty of Hojo's murder. And if we prove that my father is actually Mr. Santa, Mion will ge—"
Leon suddenly froze, his face turning pale.
Manabu's eyes narrowed. "Leon, what did you just say?"
Leon looked like he wanted to disappear. Manabu had clearly heard it, but he didn't want to push Leon too hard. He was already used to these sudden, insane turns of events.
"Keep going," Manabu ordered.
Leon hesitated but then sighed heavily. "While I was on my way home, I was debating whether to tell Kenzo or not. Mion had committed a murder. She was going to be imprisoned. I needed his help."
Leon regretted not listening to Kenzo earlier. But then—he saw her.
Mion. Walking straight into his house.
"My heart almost stopped. 'Did she see me? Is she here to kill me?' But then I realized… my dad was home alone."
Leon rushed to stop her, but as he stepped inside, he froze.
He heard voices.
Pressing his ear against the door, he listened intently.
Mion's voice was strained. "I killed him. Now what should I do?"
Leon's blood ran cold.
Daima's tone was eerily calm. "Did anyone see you?"
"Probably not," Mion replied hesitantly.
Daima let out a long sigh. Then, in a composed voice, he instructed her.
"Change your clothes and get ready. You'll need to stay hidden for a few weeks. Until I say otherwise, you're not going anywhere. There's food arranged for you at the hospital."
Leon's heart pounded against his ribs. His father was involved in this.
Mion was approaching the door.
Leon moved quickly, creeping upstairs to his room before she could see him. His mind refused to accept what he had just heard.
His father wasn't just aware of Mion's actions—he was helping her.
Leon turned toward his room door, his eyes drifting to something unusual.
The storeroom door was open. Leon's stomach twisted into knots. That door was never left open. His dad always kept the keys.
But last night—it was open.
Slowly, heart hammering, he stepped forward. With a deep breath, he peeked inside.
His blood ran dry.
Manabu watched as Leon pulled out his phone, his face drained of color.
"See for yourself," Leon said, his voice hollow. On the screen were pictures.
Inside the storeroom—a long black coat. Numerous photos of victims. A picture of Manabu and his friends—including Mion. Sharp weapons, neatly arranged. And on the table—the very gifts and toys found at the Santa crime scenes.
Manabu's breath hitched. His entire body went rigid.
Leon looked at him, his voice a broken whisper.
"My father is Mr. Santa Claus."