My arms crossed tightly against my chest, I scanned the room with a calm, calculating gaze. The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive even, as the gravity of the situation pressed down on everyone like a suffocating weight. The courtroom felt colder than usual, the flickering light overhead casting uneven shadows across the pale, anxious faces of my classmates. Kiyotaka had been killed, and now, it was up to us—no, up to me—to uncover the truth. For the sake of everyone’s survival, I couldn’t allow myself to falter.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint sounds of uneasy breathing and the occasional nervous sigh. Tension hung in the air like a storm cloud, ready to burst at any moment. I let my gaze drift over each of my classmates, noting their expressions, their body language. Some avoided eye contact, while others fidgeted nervously. Were they simply afraid, or was someone here trying to hide their guilt?

I exhaled softly, breaking the stillness with a deliberate move. This trial wasn’t going to solve itself, and it was clear no one else was going to take the lead. Raising my head slightly, I straightened my posture and let my voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

"We should discuss the murder weapon."

The sound of my voice seemed to snap everyone out of their daze. All eyes turned to me as I placed a hand thoughtfully against my chin, my other arm still folded across my chest. I studied them carefully, gauging their reactions. I didn’t need to say much more just yet—this was a strategy as much as it was an investigation. Planting the idea would force someone to speak, and when they did, I’d analyze their words, their tone, their intent.