Much of the narrative in the book is from the perspective of Kusanagi, who represents the reader as he attempts to solve a murder case. There are several information gaps that Kusanagi must close in order to attain a better understanding of the case. Firstly, there is the gap between what he knows and what Ishigami and Yasuko know, to which the reader is privy. Secondly, there is the gap between what Kusanagi knows and what Yukawa, always several steps ahead of the police, knows by way of logical deduction. As readers, we are not privy to the entirety of Yukawa's reasoning. However, we are regularly given tantalizing tidbits of insight that sustain our interests and pique our curiosity. What does Yukawa know that Kusanagi doesn't? The tension raised by these questions helps keep the reader involved in the story.

The conflict between free will and fate also figures prominently in this chapter. For example, Kusanagi says, "Ishigami's testimony supports all the facts. With that kind of momentum, there's nothing I could say to turn the train around at this point," to which Yukawa replies, "So, you don't buy it, but you have no choice but to go with the flow and accept the conclusion that Ishigami is your murderer." This dialogue expresses the strong sense of being constrained by the logical progression of the investigation. The fact that Kusanagi's superior, constrained as they are by bureaucratic pressure to produce tangible results by charging a suspect, only further reinforces this sense of futility vis-a-vis a system that operates inexorably according to its own laws. The police establishment, pragmatic in its approach to police work, would rather have suspect to charge than deal with fanciful speculations based on non-conventional points of view. When Yukawa explains what prompted Ishigami to turn himself in (namely, Yukawa's message to Ishigami that a "cog" should be able to determine its own worth), Kusanagi says, "So, you're saying that he resigned himself to his fate after hearing what he told you?", to which Yukawa replies, "Resignation...I supposed you could call it that. For him, it was more like playing his last trump card." Just as Kusanagi feels contrained by Ishigami's constrained testimony, so did Ishigami feel constrained by Yukawa's disclosure of his knowledge of what really happened. Another dialogue that is very telling in regard to the interplay between fate and free will occurs when Yukawa observes, "He's chosen this. He's chosen to spend the rest of his days in prison," to which Kusanagi remarks,"It's not really a choice now that he's killed someone," to which Yukawa responds in his characteristically elusive fashion "Indeed," the multiple layers of meaning belied by a seemingly simple and cliched response. Each of the characters is constantly faced with constraints on their actions, and yet they find ways to make choices within the confines of those constraints, giving rise to a duality that underlies the cause-and-effect progression of events in the story.

This chapter also reveals the intense emotion that Yukawa struggles with despite his scientific attitude and usual logical approach to Kusanagi's cases. Unlike Ishigami, whose blank facial expressions convey little emotion, Yukawa's facial expressions convey deep pain and sadness, indicative of his inner turmoil. He must balance his affection for an old friend with his desire to help Kusanagi, another classmate whom he also regards as friend. Yukawa can be somewhat snide in teasing Kusanagi for his failure to grasp certain truths and often engages in playful banter with him. Hence, it is unusual for him to make himself vulnerable and openly appeal to his friendship with Kusanagi in order to ask for a promise of confidentiality. Yukawa shows us that respect for logic and empathy for others need not be mutually exclusive, even if the two are often the cause for serious tension.