It was supposed to be a simple winter retreat. Then Rise brought out the cards.
“Okay!” she clapped, bouncing on her knees. “Everyone draw one—your character for tonight’s murder mystery game! I wrote backstories, motives, everything. All we need now is a victim.”
“I volunteer,” Naoto said suddenly. Her tone was even, but there was a glint of mischief behind her glasses. “If I am to participate, I’d like to observe—posthumously, of course.”
Kanji raised an eyebrow. “Wait, the detective’s gonna die?”
Naoto smirked slightly. “Exactly. You’ll have to solve it without me.”
Yukiko giggled. “How deliciously ironic.”
Chie squinted at her card. “What even is a ‘duelist gardener’?”
Rise grinned. “I’m gonna run this. Think of me as your… game master. Or all-seeing drama queen.”
“You’ve definitely got the last one down,” Yosuke muttered.
The lights dimmed. The fire flickered. A storm rattled the shutters for effect.
Everyone turned as Naoto gave a dramatic sigh, rising slowly to her feet.
“I knew I should never have come here…” she murmured, voice low and theatrical. “One of you resents me. One of you… fears what I might uncover.”
She reached for her cocoa. Paused. Blinked. Then dropped the cup.
Her hand clutched her chest. A sharp intake of breath. And then she collapsed—gracefully, intentionally—onto the tatami floor.
Silence.
Rise broke it, whispering: “The detective is dead.”
Chie’s eyes widened. “Wait—already?!”
Yukiko covered her mouth, half laughing, half intrigued. “Oh, this just got interesting.”
Kanji stared at Naoto’s “body.” “…Does this mean we have to figure it out?”
Yu gave a small, knowing smile. “Looks like it.”