Chapter Text
At a very expensive private school, there exists one of the largest and most extensive libraries in Japan. Sadly, most students don’t bother to explore the hundreds of thousands of titles gracing its shelves. At best, a student might skim over a few dull, heavy non-fiction books for a research paper, and promptly forget what they have read. The fiction section is almost entirely ignored. That being so, it was the perfect place for a person who didn’t want to be disturbed, whether they intended to read or not.
Classes had already let out, so there are even fewer students at the long row of tables bisecting the room between fiction and non-fiction than normal. On this dreary afternoon, there was only one student sitting on the fiction side of the long tables and empty chairs. She was hiding away from the feeling of being betrayed by one of the only people in the world she thought she could trust.
Her name is Furudo Erika. Her grades are near the top of the class and was by all objective standards quite attractive. Nevertheless, she is here alone, because she doesn’t have anyone at school you could have called a friend. Study partners, rivals really, were the only other students she interacted with on a regular basis. Well, there was one person, until recently.
As of today, she is no longer in a relationship. After compiling a very long and exhaustive list of evidence for and evidence against (which she had written out in absolutely gorgeous cursive English, so her ex-boyfriend would be unable to read it if he stumbled upon it), had come to the certain conclusion that he was cheating on her. His attitude upon confronting him only confirmed her conclusion in her heart. She was absolutely sure.
Yet, she had drifted aimlessly through her first school day in a very long time being single. Erika was usually the first person to raise her hand in class at any and every opportunity to show off her intellect and knowledge. Today, she just didn’t care. Both her hands had remained firmly tucked between her desk and head. She had been so sure of herself and her conclusion, but she wondered how she could still feel so bad despite her resolve. Not wanting to head home after classes let out, she found herself in the mostly deserted library.
The only thing waiting at home were two superficially concerned parents and an obnoxious brother. Her father was a successful man, though he and the family name had been nothing twenty years ago. Her mother possessed an unnatural youthful beauty, looking just as she did in her late twenties despite being twice that age. Unfortunately for her, and Erika, that was where her finer points end. She was a venomous, cold and vapid woman who valued status above all else.
Erika had always suspected that her parents didn’t really love one another, but she couldn’t bring herself to make a long list in English cursive. She had made a conscious effort to be as little like her mother as possible. That’s how she ended up dating a modest boy from an even more modest family. The only reason he went to the same school as her was a very lucky theater scholarship. She was attracted to how average he was compared to her, in everything but his ability to act. Erika could only act like her frigid, analytical self.
He on the other hand, was a chameleon; he could be anyone and no one. Unfortunately for him, Erika saw him for what she knew (reasoned) he was. A cheater. A scumbag. A failure of a man. It’s because of him that she sits in this lonely library, reading a silly book she never would have picked up in a million years otherwise. The title was an odd one, “The Mysterious Affair at Styles” by Agatha Christie. The word “affair” had jumped out at Erika for obvious reasons.
Erika expected the tale of a sordid love affair, but that expectation was quickly crushed. Infidelity was not the crime, but murder! The only thing that kept her from dismissively tossing the book onto the long library table was the prospect of returning to her home. So, she read on. She was at the two-thirds mark of the book, and the detective in the story was still unsure of what to make of things. Erika was sure she knew who the killer was. It was obviously one of the murder victims two stepsons, both who stood much to gain from the death of the elderly holder of the titular estate.
And then there is the clearly implied adulterous relationship between the wife of one stepson, John Cavendish, who seems a bit too cozy with the doctor famously well-versed in poison, Dr. Bauerstein. Her husband obviously wants to frame Bauerstein in the murder, despite being the culprit himself! Eliminating a potential paramour was an easy motive, and it made sense to Erika. He was a scumbag too, just like him.
As venomous, painful memories filled Erika’s thoughts, a cacophony filled the library. A group of rowdy boys loudly crashed through the grand double doors. The librarian shot them a stern look, and they made a poor attempt at quieting down. Erika joined the librarian in staring daggers at them. Her good mood at having figured out the mystery ahead of the mediocre detective was being ruined by the racket.
One among the group reluctantly shooed the rest out the door, promising to catch up with them later. Erika recognized him as Battler Ushiromiya, from another class. Erika disliked most of her classmates, but Battler was someone she particularly despised. He was loud, brash, incompetent and most of all, a disgusting pig of a man. Erika considered getting up and leaving the library, but hesitated. Leave to where?
Reluctantly, Erika decided to remain in her seat. She needed only an hour more of reading time to be vindicated. For her theory to be proven correct. She let out an exaggerated sigh before sticking her nose back between the pages of the open book in front of her. The noise died down, so Erika was able to plow ahead towards the inevitable moment where she would be proven right.
That was, until a hand came down to the left of her book, disturbing her quiet reading time once again. Erika jumped in her seat and looked over her left shoulder. That idiot and his smiling face filled her vision. On a good day, Erika wasn’t a fan of her personal space being invaded. On a day like today, she felt absolutely violated by this intrusion.
“Whatcha reading there?” he beamed, with a flashy grin.
Erika didn’t respond immediately, opting to ignore him. Mostly out of indignation, definitely not out of the sheer surprise at this boy she barely knew being so close to her.
“None of your business, now let me read in peace.”, Erika spat out after a few agonizingly long seconds.
The red-headed boy didn’t move an inch, despite Erika’s frosty disposition. It seemed to make him more intent on pressing her. His blue eyes scanned the still-open page, prompting a smirk to spread across his face. “Agatha Christie, huh? Who do you think offed the old hag?”, he asked, seeming to immediately recognize what Erika was reading.
Erika was once again taken aback, totally confused as to why such an idiotic boy would have the slightest clue about what she was reading. Surely an imbecile like this would be clueless about the English classics.
“Who do you think killed Emily?”, Battler clarified, almost whispering in her ear.
So, he knew that much. So what? Erika already had a solution in mind, and her ability to see through lies was peerless. She cocked an eyebrow, almost against her will, before sighing out loud, finally caving to his intrusion. Erika was interested now despite herself. The piece of her that wanted to be proven right lit up like a Christmas tree. Her theory was rock solid. The culprit clear, motive, means and method obvious.
Erika calmly held her book open and continued to read, completely expecting her theory to bear fruit. She flipped page after page, but Battler never moved more than an inch, reading along with her. Erika turned so many pages with a shaky hand in a dignified fashion. Erika’s first thought had been to tell him off, but she decided not to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him. The person leering over her shoulder not affecting her in the slightest. Battler eventually removed his hand from the table, much to Erika’s relief.
Erika made a side-eyed glance over her shoulder, oozing displeasure. Battler wasn’t rattled in the slightest by her hostile gaze, taking a seat next to Erika. She continued to speed read her way through the rest of the novel. This was another point of pride for Erika, being capable of reading as many as 2000 words per minute with very high comprehension. This put her on par with World Championship Speed Reading contestants.
So, there was no way that Battler could be keeping pace with her. For some reason, the fact that he was nevertheless so smug and cocksure pissed her off. The obvious answer being that this buffoon has already read the book, an idea that didn’t jive at all with Erika’s image of him. He was loud, rude, overconfident, and despite all that, popular with girls and boys alike. The polar opposite of Erika.
Erika could do nothing but read on at a lightning pace, her scowl growing and growing with each turn of the page. Her indignation with the detective, who seemed more and more unreliable as the story went on fueled her feelings of superiority. She already had the answer, she thought. This Belgian moron was just wasting her time.
That was an estimation of character that would come back to bite her. As the final chapters unfolded, it became apparent why the detective was faking being so unreliable and wishy-washy. As it turned out, he didn’t want the murder victims' husband to be tried too hastily for a very good reason. The rush to trial was a calculated move by the culprit and his accomplice. An accomplice Erika had been blindsided by.
Battler must have read the shock on her face, because he rose from his chair with a sigh, as though Erika had missed something so obvious a child would have seen through it.
“You didn’t find it odd how adamant Evelyn was that Alfred was suspicious? Did she ever really have any concrete reason to feel that way? Well before we knew anything about almost any character. The author never gave us much more than her word as to why she should be suspicious of him. You need to look at the heart more carefully.”
Erika was gritting her teeth to prevent herself from behaving in an unseemly manner in public. Sparsely populated or not, she wasn’t about to embarrass herself in the school library. Her pride would not allow it. Her pride could not sustain another blow so soon after the first, the blow of being so wildly wrong about something.
Erika closed the book and heaved a deep sigh. She stood up and pushed her chair in. Her ocean-blue eyes cocked up, directly into those of the man who had dared to interrupt her quiet escapism in the school library. Murderous intent flowing from her had not the slightest effect on the cocky Battler. A man she now wanted to destroy completely, to best him intellectually.
“I noticed inside the jacket; this book is part of a series. I have a photographic memory, you see.”, Erika bragged, regaining some of her typical confidence and poise, “Have you read the rest, as you so obviously have this particular mystery novel?”
Erika’s blood was pumping at an accelerated rate. She wanted to break the school loudmouth, embarrass him, even in a private battle of wits. A concrete plan was forming in her mind. Erika only needed to hear the words Battler spoke next.
“Ihihihihi, you got me there. Can’t say I’ve read the rest of the series, but I’ve always wanted to.”
Those were the words that Erika had wanted to hear more than anything else in that moment. She had him. When Erika put her mind to conquering something, or someone, she never failed to hit her mark. An energetic wind had overtaken her prior frustration.
“Go buy a copy of the next book. Read the first four chapters and meet me here again on Monday. Can you manage that? This time, I will be the one who is one step ahead of you.”
Battler seemed to not grasp the gravity of Erika’s challenge. He smiled in the face of her stony determination. He was obviously going to accept her challenge, not because he felt any honor or pride was on the line, but because her challenge seemed like a fun time. Erika looked down on that carefree attitude of his with disdain. Battler clearly didn’t view this as an intellectual challenge. She could beat him. She knew she was more clever, more determined to be right.
“Sure, I’m game. Uhh…what was your name again? I’ve seen you around before, but we’ve never been in the same class.”
Erika didn’t know why she attached such significance to this encounter. She had always had a negative impression of this man she barely knew. Furthermore, she spoke her introduction peppered with lies from her soul, as silly as it probably sounded to any passerby that happened upon it.
“Hi, pleased to meet you, I’m Furudo Erika. I hope someday to be a detective in the police force. Please, try your best and come here next Monday.”