Final Chapter: The Whereabouts of the Chosen ■ Girl, Sakuraoto

“Hmm…”

Beside me, as I push my creaky bicycle retrieved from school, Kikuri’s gaze is fixed on my smartphone.

“This email came that day?”

“Yeah. Right after I passed my contact info to you all through Ranka.”

The email in question, now glowing in Kikuri’s hand, is the one I forwarded from my old flip phone.

Given our past exchanges, there’s no way Kikuri could be the self-proclaimed “chosen girl,” Sakuraoto—that’s what I figured, so I decided to consult her about it.

I only showed the photo to the chairman, so this is the first time I’ve let anyone else see the actual email.

“This picture… it’s definitely the one I had,” Kikuri says. “I never thought it’d still be around…”

“Still around? You don’t have it anymore?”

“I threw it out. A year ago—around the time we reconnected.”

The shadow of my bicycle cuts across the light reflecting off the building’s windows.

“I didn’t think I needed it anymore,” she continues. “No point clinging to bitter memories when the real you is right here.”

“No harm in keeping it, though, right?”

“Maybe… But I guess I wanted closure. To move on from that past and be with you as Mitsuba Matsuba.”

So, for her back then, it was a necessary ritual.

“Well, when I say I threw it out, I just tossed it in a trash bag,” she adds.

“So, you didn’t burn it or tear it up?”

“That’s why I can’t completely rule out the possibility that someone picked it up and kept it all this time—it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“A year ago… By then, all four of you were already living in that house?”

“Ranka and Chinana came three years ago, so yeah, long before that.”

“So, we can’t narrow down the suspects…”

“You really want to figure it out? Who sent this email?”

“Not like it’s necessary, but I’ve been challenged, haven’t I?”

—If you’re so desperate to know, why don’t you figure it out yourself?

Stay silent after a taunt like that, and I’d be less of a man for it.

More than anything, I want to unmask her and ask—why, seven years ago, did I choose her over anyone else?

“Hmm… Maybe we should analyze the image itself more closely,” Kikuri suggests.

“Meaning?”

“This is a photo of a physical picture, probably taken with a smartphone or something, right? There’s a bit of background visible… It looks like the photo was placed on a table or something—hold on.”

Kikuri narrows her eyes, bringing the phone screen as close to her face as possible.

“What’s up?”

“…I knew it.”

“You noticed something?”

Kikuri turns the screen toward me, zooming in on the image as far as it’ll go.

“The bottom left corner. Don’t you see it?”

“…? No…”

“There’s a faint orange light—probably a sunset.”

“Sunset?”

“Not a sunrise, I think. The colors of dawn and dusk are subtly different. Trust an illustrator’s sense of color here. …And now, here’s the real point—”

What followed was Kikuri’s deduction, and all I could do was stand there, stunned.

If that’s true…

Could it be—?

“She’s the one who sent this email?”

“At the very least, she’s the most likely person to have taken this photo.”

No way… Her?

I can’t say it’s impossible. Now that I think about it, there were suspicious actions.

“…Alright. Let me handle this for now.”

“That’s the plan. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m your one and only friend, after all, right?”

“…What’s with that tone?”

“Heh.”

We arrived at the high-rise condo.

Kikuri passes through one door, operating the pedestal-like auto-lock terminal.

“Oh, by the way, Kunshi-kun, could you come here for a sec?”

“Hm?”

As Kikuri fiddles with the terminal, I approach her from behind.

Unsuspecting.

Suddenly, Kikuri spins around and hugs me head-on.

“…!?”

The soft sensation pressed against my chest, her slender arms wrapped around my back, the tickle of her hair against my neck, and the sweet, feminine scent wafting from her.

And then,

“This is payback.”

Her whisper brushes my ear with her breath.

I freeze, speechless, as Kikuri lets out a soft, secretive giggle. Then, pulling away swiftly, she flashes a slightly childish smile, winks, and slips through the auto-lock door with light steps.

I stand there, dumbfounded, watching her go.

…Saying she used to like me, in the past tense…

“…Which is it, damn it?”

I wait for my flushed face to cool before having her unlock the door for me again.

‘And now, here’s the real point—’

I replay Kikuri’s deduction in my mind.

‘Let’s assume this photo was taken in our house. The picture doesn’t have creases like it was kept in a wallet or carried around. It was almost certainly stored in someone’s room. I doubt anyone would take it out just to photograph it elsewhere. So, Kunshi-kun, you handle all the housework in our home—think hard about the layout.’

‘The layout?’

‘The biggest window in the living room faces east. That’s obvious, since you can see Tokyo Tower from Daikanyama to the east. From there, you go up the stairs to the second floor, where all our sisters’ rooms are. My room, Kikuri’s, is at the end of the hallway to the left—south side. What about the other sisters’ rooms?’

‘Let’s see… Meru’s room is to the right from the stairs, the farthest back—northwest, in terms of direction. Chinana’s room is just before that, to the east of Meru’s. Ranka’s room is one of the two on the left side of the hallway, closer to the stairs.’

‘The left side of the south-running hallway—that’s the east side, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So, Kunshi-kun, which direction does the sunset come from?’

‘—!’

At that moment, I finally grasped what Kikuri was getting at.

‘Exactly—the sunset comes from the west. They call it the western sun, don’t they? Keeping that in mind, let’s think again.

Chinana’s room is east of Meru’s—meaning there’s only a wall on the west side.

Ranka’s room is on the east side of the hallway—so there’s only the hallway to the west.

And my room? There’s a big walk-in closet on the west side. No windows for the sunset to come through.’

—I thought there wasn’t a closet, but apparently, it’s behind the sliding door on the right side.

I groan, recalling the time I was in Kikuri’s room. Even if there were a window in her walk-in closet, there wouldn’t be a table set up there.

‘Therefore,’ Kikuri concludes.

‘The only room with a west-facing window where the sunset could shine in is Meru’s—and the only place this photo, with the sunset reflected in it, could have been taken is Meru’s room.’

The gaming keyboard glows in a rainbow of colors.

The PC fan hums quietly.

I stand frozen in front of the PC desk, staring down at it.

In my hand, a small paper photo—

—A picture of three girls and one boy, all smiling.