For the longest time, I'd been derided for having what some considered a "baby face."

Precisely what that meant, I didn't understand for the longest time. Perhaps that's only fitting given my typical lack of skill regarding social cues. I guess that should be expected.

But what I did not expect was to come face-to-face with that reckoning today. My cheeks were probably flush with embarrassment, my dimples nearly non-existent. And as I shuffled into the courtroom, my gait probably tipped the crowd off that I was far from confident.

Pastoria City's courthouse was an airless structure that would rope you in and never let you go. Once you were in its clutches, it would do its absolute damnedest to ensure you didn't leave through the civilian's entrance - instead, you would be handcuffed and escorted away to a police van, which would transport you to one of the city's prisons.

I'm not under indictment today, I told myself. And I might never be. I will never be, because once these people understand the true story, they can't possibly charge me with a crime.

"Please sit, everyone," the district attorney announced.

He didn't speak in a particularly loud tone, but what the voice lacked in decibels, it made up for in the radiance of authority. As soon as you heard the judge speak, you knew that he was a man whose wrong side you wanted to steer clear of.

Because he had the power to make your life a living hell.

Not for the first time, I wished I could have brought Psyduck with me. If I ever needed him to calm me down, now would be the perfect time to have that yellow guy with the giant beak by my side. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed in the courtroom.

"Please state your name" the DA announced. He wasn't a very tall man, but again, it isn't size that matters. It's how you use it.

I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of how intensely my palms were perspiring. If I didn't keep them clamped into fists, I had little doubt that a pool of sweat would form on the ground, staining the carpet and likely turning the grand jury against me. Besides, the court of public opinion was almost as important as the court of law.

"Uh…Makoto" I mumbled softly, trying to drag this part out as long as possible. What the general public might see as the most exciting aspect of my deposition was far from it for me.

"First and last name, please."

"Makoto Mutsamudu. That is my name."

"Very well", the judge replied, leaning back in his seat. "This should go pretty smoothly. You understand your right to remain silent?"

"I do."

"And you have elected to waive it, in light of the circumstances?"

I snorted without any humor. "I mean, clearly I did. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here today, would I?"

"You could have stayed at home and kept your lips tightly sealed. Why didn't you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked rhetorically, amazed by my own courage as I uttered those words. "I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do."

"Fair enough," the judge replied. "Mr. Mutsamudu, you know my name, correct?"

Truth be told, I did not know the judge's name. His graying hair and beard should have been recognizable, but then, those are the facial features you hope you never need to memorize.

Because if you do, it means you're in deep shit.

"Uh…no."

"Please answer audibly."

"I do not know your name, Your Honor" I muttered.

"I am Brett Woods, a district attorney for this sector of Pastoria City. It is in this jurisdiction that the investigation is taking place. You understand that, do you not?"

"Why, of course," I said. "I understand basic geography."

"That's a relief," DA Woods responded. Whether he intended to make fun of me there or not, I'll never understand. Because that's just not how my brain works.

I stared DA Woods right between the eyes, wanting to make him feel as though my eyes were the far more intense ones belonging to a carnivorous Pokémon species. If I could intimidate the DA, maybe I could get a more favorable set of questions.

"You are not going to intimidate me, Mr. Mutsamudu. You are only eighteen - ".

"Nineteen" I corrected him. "I had my birthday a few weeks ago."

"Very well, then" Woods responded. "I would prefer you not to be cute with me. Please don't be funny with me either. Quite frankly, Mr. Mutsamudu, you are not in a position to be condescending. You understand this, correct?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because your conduct in this session so far has not remotely suggested that you understand the gravity of the situation. You are in a courtroom, Mr. Mutsamudu, and you would do well not to forget that."

"Why are you giving me advice? You're not my friend. My friend is Jeff, and he's not here right now." (I was referring to the Psyduck here, whose name was in fact Jeff. Best to start the day with a truth, isn't it?)

DA Woods raised an eyebrow. "You are correct, Mr. Mutsamudu. I am not your friend. But, contrary to what you may think, I do not have to be your enemy either. It may be that I'm a neutral arbiter of the situation. I want the same thing you do - to get to the truth."

"Well, Your Honor, couldn't we have different ideas of how to arrive at said truth?"

The audience was now scratching their heads. Most of them had put their notepads down, and who could blame them? There was a lot more intrigue coming, and if they didn't leave plenty of paper, they wouldn't be able to write down what truly mattered here.

"On the whole, I think not," DA Woods told me. "There is one truth. There's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, which is exactly what you wish to tell me. Lying under oath is a crime under the law of Sinnoh, you know."

"I know that. It's called perjury. I'm not the airhead you seem to think I am, Your Honor."

DA Woods grunted. "Well, stop acting like you don't know how to behave in front of a district attorney in an active investigation. Clearly, you're just playing up the role of a hapless kid who'd never hurt a fly. As if none of this happened. As if!"

"Whatever" I sighed. "Can we just get started?"

Something about the oppressive July heat made me want to get this over with as quickly as possible. Maybe this was an intentional decision made by the courthouse's architects - trap as much heat inside as possible to exert pressure on the defense.

This isn't a criminal trial, I told myself. Yet.

"Yes, Mr. Mutsamudu. We may get started. Tell me everything. Let's start with the festival back in September. You know which festival I am referring to, correct?"