Cherry blossom petals drifted across the edge of my vision. On a morning slope still empty of footsteps, I took a spectacular tumble — so dramatic you could almost hear the crash. My textbooks and notebooks crumpled with a sad squish, and a dull, throbbing pain seeped into my knee. "[scared]Wah—?!" My own idiotic voice yanked me back to reality. I'm Naruhodou Ryuuichi. Beside me, the undone laces of my sneakers swayed limply. I'd really done it now. Wasn't this supposed to be my much-anticipated first day as a transfer student? (*The lack of sleep really did me in…*) I'd been so jittery last night I couldn't sleep at all. New school, new classroom, new relationships. I was already nervous enough, and now I'd gone and wiped out on the big stage. Painful, embarrassing — the absolute worst. This was Private Kagurazaka Academy, in Minatosaka City. A fairly large school, with 1,200 students. Perched on top of a hill, you had to climb a long slope called "Judgment Hill" just to reach the main gate. And this was day one. I could only imagine what lay ahead. As I sluggishly gathered my scattered textbooks, a shadow fell across my vision. "…Are you all right?" The voice came from above. I looked up. A male student stood there. His silver hair, backlit by the rising sun, sparkled brilliantly, catching the morning light. His narrow eyes were a strange color — they could have been an icy blue, or maybe gray. He was tall, with long, slender limbs. Probably a full head taller than me. The Kagurazaka Academy uniform — navy blazer and crimson tie — looked impossibly good on him. *He's beautiful*, I thought, vaguely. His features were so perfectly composed, like he'd stepped straight out of a movie. He seemed like a different species from me. "[gentle]Can you stand?" He crouched down and extended his hand. Long, slender, but knobby — a boy's hand. Flustered, I moved to take it. —That's when it happened. The instant our fingertips touched, a jolt shot through me, like static electricity. No. This was different. Something burst inside my head. Unfamiliar images flooded in, like a life flashing before my eyes. —A room lined with tall wooden chairs and desks. —Heavy black clothing, like a cape, weighing down on my shoulders. —And, wearing those black clothes, someone's broad back. (*What… is this?!*) I couldn't see a face. I didn't know a name. But I *knew* that back. I'd trusted it. Believed it would never, ever betray me. A warmth spread deep in my chest. Nostalgic, yet aching — a strange feeling. "…What's wrong? Can't get up?" "[scared]Ah— no, it's not—!" He must have thought my sudden freeze was shock from the fall. His cool, distant eyes narrowed ever so slightly with concern. At that subtle shift in expression, the classroom scene that had felt so vivid moments ago scattered like mist. This was reality, now. As if jolted by electricity, I grabbed his hand — Mitsurugi Reiji's hand. He pulled me up, and I finally got to my feet. "Thank you, Mitsurugi-kun." My head was still hazy. What *was* that I'd just seen? Why was I so shaken? My heart was pounding so loudly I couldn't even look him in the face. And more importantly — how did I know his name? (*…Wait. Do I know it? Did I just call him "Mitsurugi-kun"?*) I was confused. We'd just met. It was my first day as a transfer student. "[serious]You know who I am?" Sensing my agitation, Mitsurugi-kun tilted his head. Fair enough. A total stranger suddenly calling him by name. Maximum suspiciousness. I scrambled for an excuse. But my mind went blank, and what came out of my mouth was something that surprised even me. "[excited]N-No, that's not it! I just want to be friends with Mitsurugi-kun! Just friends, starting from friends, and… huh?" My voice echoed at full volume. Why. Speakers set up all along the slope blasted my desperate shout in a grand echo. The school broadcast system. Of all things, the morning broadcast switch had apparently been left on. Which meant the entire student body — no, the teachers in the faculty room too — had just heard every word. "Ah." I felt my face ignite. I could tell even the tips of my ears had turned bright red. "[laughing]…Pfft." The corner of Mitsurugi-kun's mouth relaxed, just a fraction. It was too faint to call a smile, but it definitely softened his cold impression, just a little. He'd laughed. At this colossal, catastrophic blunder of mine. "[sad]Uwaaaaaah!" No more. I'd hit my limit. I bolted like a startled rabbit, leaving my scattered notes behind, just desperate to escape the sheer humiliation. Even after school, the morning's incident was the talk of the class — no, the entire academy. Honestly, just being in the classroom felt like sitting on pins and needles. The hushed voices and unabashed stares kept my head down all day. As I packed my bag to leave, one of my classmates came over. "[sarcastic]Naruhodou-kun, you've been summoned to the Student Council room." The Student Council room? Nothing good could come of this. I made my way to the designated room on the first floor of the annex. A calm voice from inside said, "Come in." When I opened the door, a female student stood in the center of the room, holding some documents. This was Himuro Saya. Kagurazaka Academy's Student Council Vice President, and the judge who presided over Confession Trials — a third-year. Her straight black hair was trimmed neatly at her shoulders, and behind her glasses, her narrow eyes fixed on me like she was appraising prey. She was the one they called the "Ice Judge." "[serious]…I see. So you're Naruhodou-kun." "[scared]Y-Yes… I was told I was called here…" Himuro-senpai pushed her glasses up with a finger. "[cold]I'll be direct. Four Confession Trials have been filed against you, concerning the right to confess to Mitsurugi Reiji-kun." "…Huh?" I let out a stupid sound. The words didn't register at first. Confession? Trial? *Right*? "[serious]Under Article 17 of the Kagurazaka Academy Student Council Regulations, when multiple individuals seek to confess to the same person, each must prove the legitimacy of their claim through courtroom argument. Currently, four applicants have filed for the right to confess to Mitsurugi: his childhood friend Yatabuki Akane, Chess Club member Houzuki Yomi, School Newspaper's Sudou Kyousuke, and Art Department teacher Shinonome Seiichirou." She laid out the facts, dispassionately, mercilessly. "[scared]Wait, hold on! I just want to be *friends* with Mitsurugi-kun! It's not like I *like* him or anything, not at all, not even a little bit—" "[sarcastic]That might have been convincing if your face weren't bright red." I had no comeback. My face was, indeed, burning hot enough to start a fire. I mean, what was I supposed to do? A beautiful person like him held my hand, weird images flashed through my head, it was embarrassing… (*This is… not… love or anything, okay.*) Even as I made excuses to myself, my chest remained restless and unsettled. "[serious]You have seven days to prepare. Gather valid evidence and be ready for trial. Withdrawal, by the way, is not permitted. This is a matter of your heart, but it is also a matter of institutional integrity." Himuro-senpai's lips softened, just barely, at the very end. "[gentle]…What you will say to Mitsurugi-kun in court. I admit, I am a little curious." Kicked out of the Student Council room, I wandered aimlessly down Hanamichi Street in front of the station. I had no idea what was going on anymore. I'd fallen on my first day as a transfer student, had some kind of memory flashback, screamed something weird over the school broadcast, and now a Confession Trial? My head was about to explode. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a café in the middle of the shopping district: "Café Replay." The master, Kuga Katsuhiko-san, was a Kagurazaka Academy alumnus — apparently a remarkable guy who'd served as the very first judge back when the Confession Trial system was just starting. A retro bell jingled, and the bitter, aromatic scent of coffee tickled my nose. As I sat at the counter, Master Kuga, with his white beard, narrowed his kind eyes. "[gentle]Oh, a new face. First-year?" "[sad]…Transfer student. First-year. Naruhodou." "[laughing]That face — you've gotten yourself tangled up in a Confession Trial, haven't you." He'd hit the nail so squarely on the head I nearly dropped my glass of water. Kuga-san chuckled quietly as he poured coffee into a cup. "[serious]No need to be surprised. It just means you've made an impression on someone's heart. And besides, the other party is Mitsurugi-kun. He's what you'd call this academy's final impregnable fortress. In the past year, there have been twenty-three Confession Trial applications targeting him. Fourteen actually went to court. But not once has his own heart been moved." "[scared]T-Twenty-three…" A staggering number. Kuga-san pointed to an old photograph on the wall. It showed a much younger him, about to swing a wooden gavel in a classroom far simpler than the current Vérité Court. "[gentle]The Confession Trial is a system. But in the end, a system can't judge the human heart. Winning in court and moving someone's feelings are two completely different things. You have no choice but to face him with your own words." A silence followed. Outside the window, students in uniform walked by, laughing. Were all of them, in this town, at this academy, fighting battles with their own feelings? "[whispers]…I don't understand my own feelings. Past-life memories, I guess you'd call them? I think I was a lawyer… but all I have are these vague memories of fighting someone. Love, and stuff like that… I just don't get it." A true feeling I hadn't even realized I'd been holding slipped out. Kuga-san stopped wiping the cup and looked at me quietly. "[serious]Isn't it just that you're afraid of realizing your own feelings? It's not the lack of memories. Caring about someone — it just scares you senseless, doesn't it." Those words snagged strangely in my heart. Like someone had gently poked a sore spot. Even after I got home, I lay sprawled on my bed, still in my uniform. The wood grain of the ceiling blurred hazily. I slowly made a fist with my right hand. The hand Mitsurugi-kun had held today. That person's back, the one I'd seen then. I was sure that person had helped me, immensely. I was sure I had trusted that person. But how that connected to the Mitsurugi-kun of now, I didn't know. I didn't know, but the something smoldering deep in my chest felt like it had been there all along — nostalgic, and warm. Tomorrow, trial preparations would begin. In seven days, I had to find some point of connection with Mitsurugi-kun. But how? The only conversation we'd had was that monumental disaster. Starlight filtered softly through the window. The nights in this town were surprisingly quiet. (*If only I could get to know Mitsurugi-kun a little better…*) Thinking such vague thoughts, I closed my eyes. The pounding in my heart continued, just a little longer.