The person who likes me is a yandere.

"Qianyu is really thoroughly disliked. Well, it's true, living with the goddess of cuteness and having an ex-girlfriend who is an important intangible cultural asset of beauty, there's nothing that can be done about it."

I walked with Baba En in the corridor leading to the art classroom. The guy who would erase my memories in the worst-case scenario is harmless at this stage.

"Is the important intangible cultural asset of beauty referring to Nagina-kun?"

"Yes. I was originally wondering whether to call it the Nobel Prize of beauty or the Golden Raspberry Award of beauty."

...This is utterly absurd. The Golden Raspberry Awards are for the worst films; does he share my understanding?

"Oh, look! There's a teacher who's given up on himself."

I looked in the direction the horse farm had pointed, and there stood the embodiment of jealousy—the sports accountant—flipping me the middle finger and yelling, "Fuck me!"

Rather than saying they're unqualified to be educators... it's more accurate to say they're unqualified to be human.

"Rather than saying he gave up on himself, it's more accurate to say he was a pitiful person."

As soon as I stepped into the art classroom, I heard the sound of a short, sharp, hard object breaking.

There's nothing surprising about that.

Chapter Fourteen: Key Insiders

There's nothing surprising about that.

"No! This isn't art!"

Like a comedic scene from a ceramic artist's play, the person who smashed what appeared to be a newly finished piece of pottery onto the floor was none other than the school's art teacher, Yuuji Shizuno. Contrary to his name, he gave off an impression of possessing a rather intense sensibility towards art.

"I hate my immaturity! But that's not right either!"

He then smashed another piece of pottery on the ground, and the male student next to Mr. Shizuno let out a cry of pain:

"That's something I made!"

When engrossed in his creations, Shizuno-sensei is somewhat careless. Besides his own work, he also accidentally breaks other people's pieces, earning him the nickname "Berserkerteacher" (commonly known as BT).

Because BT, in order to atone for his sins, would invariably give every student whose artwork he broke a 5-point art grade (the highest score), there was a constant stream of unscrupulous individuals who tried to deliberately have BT break their artwork.

The male student who just let out a mournful cry seems to be a member of the art club. If he is, he can only hide under the covers and cry.

Art class was held together by two classes, so the wall of people around Asami was also mixed with boys and girls from the next class. But anyway, at least no one came to the art classroom specifically to watch the commotion, so I didn't have to be exposed to the sharp gazes coming from the corridor. I spent the rest of my lunch break sitting in my seat, gazing at BT sculpting clay, and leisurely passing the time.

—Ta-da!

"Damn it, has class started yet?!"

He was a teacher who hated class even more than his students. Perhaps he was more interested in exploring his own artistic style than teaching art to his students… Well, he was definitely a failing teacher.

BT's gaze passed over us, who were sitting in chairs, and stopped at the plaster hands arranged on the shelf at the back of the art classroom.

That was something we made in the previous class by inserting our hands into a square box filled with plaster.

Oh dear, we spent a lot of time maintaining the position with our hands in the cast while it was in place; it was very tiring. We kept our hands in the cast for an entire class period.

"The results of everyone's plaster cast hands are quite good. They beautifully express the theme of 'pain.' I originally planned to end the plaster cast hand course last week, but today let's paint the hands. I want each of you to be true to your instincts and unleash your free and emotional creativity. Neither art nor the space to hold a solo exhibition can be taught to you by others; you have to discover it for yourselves."

After BT made an excuse to make us study on our own, he went back to making pottery.

It seems there's a solo exhibition by BT at this year's school fair. Last year, he apparently occupied the principal's office?

I got up from my seat and walked to the shelves at the back of the art classroom.

Countless hands are stretched out towards the sky. Because it is the part below the elbows, the total length is about forty centimeters.

This looks like a demon struggling in hell, but I remember the theme of the plaster hand was "grasping hope"...

"...Teacher. Um, I'm Asuna Yuuki, a transfer student who came here today. What should I do?"

As I retrieved my plaster cast from the shelf, Asuna's voice reached my ears. Asuna, who had just transferred to our school...

There are no plaster hands available for painting.

“…Venus”.

BT inexplicably uttered the name of a goddess from Roman mythology, gazing at Asuna with a look of rapture—a look he saw many times during breaks between classes.

"...Wei, you're Asuna-san, right? May I ask you to sit there?"

"Ah, yes."

BT made Asuna sit in front of the potter's wheel he was working at and said silly things like, "Have you seen the movie 'Ghost Sense'?"

"...Sorry, I haven't seen it."

"It's okay. It's a good movie; any girl who sees it will want to try pottery."

BT pressed the button on his private radio (an antique!) that he kept in the art classroom.

Music flowed out.

Although I don't know the song title, it's probably the theme song for "The Sixth Sense".

"Come on, Asuna Yuuki, are you prepared to sacrifice and dedicate yourself to art?"

Perhaps BT is already prepared to give up his teaching position for his desires.

Just as the boys were heading towards the potter's wheel to save the innocent transfer student...

"...Mine is gone."

The girl's confused voice echoed throughout the art classroom.

The voice belongs to Shiratori, a virtuous woman who is also known for her violent side, such as trying to solve her boyfriend's infidelity problem with a knife.

Her plaster cast hand seemed to have disappeared.

Shiratori, who was searching for hands with several girls, said:

"My hand is making an OK sign. If it were placed here, it should be easy to recognize."

The idea of ​​using an "OK" gesture to represent a hand grasping at hope is indeed a bit puzzling, but given its unique shape, it should be easy to figure out quickly...

Many plaster casts were arranged haphazardly, but I didn't see any lively hands.

"This is a case of a missing plaster cast hand!" the frivolous Sukekawa shouted.

Upon hearing the word "incident," the students' gazes...

As if it had been pre-arranged, everything was focused on Asuna.

This is not to suspect that Asuna is the culprit.

Everyone remembered that Asuna was a detective—a high school girl who helped out at the detective agency.

Needless to say, a detective is an expert at solving cases.

Shiratori, speaking to Asuna who had already fled from in front of the potter's wheel, said:

"Before investigating the affair, I have something I'd like to ask Asuna for help with."

"Hmm? What do you mean by investigating infidelity?" Shiratori's boyfriend, Benimaru, asked, but his question was simply ignored. Men who have affairs (and men suspected of having affairs) are public enemies of women, objects of hatred for unpopular men.

"...Could you please take on the task of finding the person with the plaster cast?"

Asuna nodded vigorously with a serious expression, much like a player who had just graduated and entered professional baseball and was asked to pinch hit on a bases-loaded field in his first year.

"Hehe, leave it to me!"

Her voice was too lively for someone who gave off an icy beauty vibe, but her cheerfulness felt strangely reliable.

"Let's get this straight. When was the last time you saw the plaster cast hand?"

"It happened in art class a week ago, and I haven't seen it since."

"I see."

"...Could it have fallen somewhere?"

"Did Shiratori take her plaster cast hand out of the art classroom?"

"No, I didn't. I definitely left it in the art classroom."

"If the plaster cast hand had run off somewhere on its own, that would be a fascinating school ghost story... Although it's hard to say, I think someone took Shiratori-san's plaster cast hand."

"...You mean someone mistakenly took mine?"

"That's unlikely. Because no one would mistake a plaster hand making an OK sign for their own and take it away."

"...So...someone took it on purpose?"

I think so.

"They deliberately took my plaster cast...are they trying to cause me trouble?"

The white bird's voice was tinged with fear. To be hated by someone you don't know is an unbearable horror.

"No, don't worry. The course on the plaster cast ended last week, right? Even if they steal a plaster cast that won't be used anymore, it won't bother you too much. If their goal was to cause you trouble, they would have stolen the hand last week, not this week."

"...So, who took it and why?"

"This is what I think... it must have been a good deed done by someone who has feelings for Shiratori-san, right?"

Oh—I see.

The students in the art classroom exclaimed in admiration.

The way the beautiful girl explained things in a confident tone was as glamorous and charming as an actress playing a detective in a TV series or movie, and she seemed very reliable.

Yes, up to this point, she was still reliable.

"Shiratori is so cute, it's not surprising that a boy secretly admires her... Anyway, let's first compile alibis for the boys from both classes, shall we?"

Alibi? When was it?

Asuna took out notebook paper from somewhere and handed it out to the boys one by one.

what is this? ?

"Please write down who you were with, where you were, and what you did since your art class a week ago. If anyone has a record of acting alone during this period... unfortunately, they will be listed as a key informant."

In that instant, all the boys became key insiders.

Chapter Fifteen: The Innocent and Introverted Boy