“I found the truth, Tsukasa. I need to tell you everything I learned.”
About the crime scene. About Elma.
I had no idea what it would mean from a legal standpoint, but I believed that Tsukasa would be able to make sense of it all.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Illegal destruction of corpses, and professional negligence resulting in death.” That was my sister’s answer after hearing everything I had to say. “It’s possible the prosecutor could add them as alternative charges,” she added.
“Alternative charges?”
“There are situations when, after a trial has already begun, there is cause to believe another crime was committed, one uncovered during the course of the investigation. In those cases, the trial can add that other crime without having to restart the entire trial.”
After getting all fired up from my adventure to the Meadow of Beginnings and listening to the Hero’s life story, her levelheaded legalese brought me back down to reality.
“Okay, so…he’d be charged for a different crime instead of murder?”
I regretted getting so carried away and believing this would end with him being hailed as a benevolent superhero.
Three people had still died. We had to take this seriously.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what the decision will be yet. I have to save that for the trial.”
Her verdict would be rendered on the courtroom floor, with those two burnt tapestries of the sun at her back.
The almost-thirty-year-old judge who had been transformed into a beautiful teenager fixed me in her gaze.
“Even if I’ve already made my decision, I can’t tell anyone. Not even you. A judge can’t reveal their decision until it is officially handed down in court.”
I nodded silently.
Judges are constitutionally recognized as independent. That also means they’re solitary.
Tsukasa had faced every member of the court except me before the trial was interrupted. The prosecutor, the lawyer, and the accused.
Bearing the burden of judging had to be the loneliest position in the kingdom.
Tsukasa sighed. “I’m so glad you got this to me. There are just too many things I can’t understand when I hear them on the fly in the courtroom.”
Her tone of voice had changed. Maybe she’d finished processing everything and switched to off mode.
“Are you sure you’re good?” I asked.
“Yeah. I read fifty-four years’ worth of criminal records and found plenty on Keith and Neidhardt, but nothing on the accused. I think this testimony has high credibility…” As she spoke, Tsukasa hugged her legs and looked to the side, then leaned toward me from behind the cage’s bars. “You know, more than anything, I was scared while listening to you. I sympathize with the Hero’s story.”
“You do?”
“The way he stands out, his remarkable talents… What do you think that means?”
“I’m envious,” I admitted. “I wish I was like that.”
“The reality of it isn’t so easy. It’s scary.” Tsukasa’s long black hair cascaded over her shoulders and partially concealed her face. “Being really good at something tricks you into thinking you’re amazing. That you’re a good person because you’re capable. But it’s not true. And it makes it hard to know what’s really important.”
Her eyes turned distant, as though she were reflecting on her life. Melancholy glistened in them.
“I just happened to be good at my studies. I got the top score on the bar exam and became a judge. Still, I’m nowhere near perfect at my job. There’s plenty I don’t know, and I’m criticized for it constantly. ‘If you’re so smart, why didn’t you know something that simple?’ Even when people aren’t scolding me, I’m always afraid there’s a mistake I haven’t caught…”
I leaned against the outside of the cage from beside Tsukasa, pressing the side of my body against her.
“If only every opponent were easy to understand,” Tsukasa said. “I was a hero when taking exams. I almost never made mistakes, and even when I did, they were easy to fix. But it really is far more complicated. I don’t have many chances to compensate for my weaknesses. I worry it warps my viewpoint.”
I felt the warmth of her body and rhythm of her breath through the bars.
“I’m always watching you, you know,” she admitted. “Because when I watch you, I can confirm things about myself. I constantly wonder how things look through your eyes…”
“From my perspective, you’re really cool,” I told her, and I meant it.
Even with the power and position to judge others, Tsukasa was never conceited, and she carried strong convictions.
Her determination to succeed was stronger than anyone else’s.
I got the feeling that she was fighting within herself about how to handle her own strong convictions.
But also, her words made me notice something.
Seeing the way Laman’s sense of self had become warped, it wasn’t out of the question for Tsukasa to become warped like that someday, too.
Had I come to this fantasy world alone and obtained some great power like I’d always wanted—be it fire, lightning, ice—I would’ve turned out that way eventually, too.
Maybe that’s why I was drawn to him.
I wanted to know the truth about the Hero’s party to see a possible outcome for myself.
And I wanted to uncover the real truth so I could handle it properly. Although I didn’t say this out loud, I acknowledged it within myself.
“This might be the first time you’ve ever opened up to me like this.” I tried to comfort Tsukasa. I knew this was hard for her to talk about.
“Maybe it’s because of my younger body or it’s because we’re in a different world,” she replied.
“It’s really cool of you to be able to view yourself from another angle like that.”
“All right, if I keep being cool, will you give me a kiss?”
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
Tsukasa chuckled. Her beautiful reddish-brown eyes housed an unwavering sense of trust. They were radiant.
The light from the morning sky poured through the burnt skylight.
“Hey, I think this will depend on the court’s final decision, but…”
“What a coincidence. I was just thinking about that, too.”
My sister and I.
The two Japanese people in this world.
We traded ideas back and forth on how best to judge the case.
Our conversation continued until the break of dawn.
Still, we kept talking, paying no mind to the sun.