Chapter 62

Sitting by the large window of the café on the second floor of the department store, I lost myself in a book while watching the town's scenery.

I sipped the American coffee, bitterer than a café au lait yet sweeter than daily anguish. Yes, this is the way to go.

I pushed all thoughts of detectives and the pushy club president out of my head. I simply wanted to keep reading this comedy novel starring a middle-aged man. I was picturing the café's bearded master as the protagonist, so every time he yelled "A banana on a face like that!" or "What a stupid scream before he slips and falls!" I couldn't stop grinning at the gap.

A Sunday with absolutely nothing to do is perfect for indulging in entertainment.

This way I can forget the gloom of school and the fear that my precious childhood friend Miiko might disappear... whoops, I'm thinking too much again.

"I finally came all the way into town to relax, and now I'm worrying about tomorrow... worrying about Miiko too—what an idiot I am."

After muttering to myself, I shook my head hard and gulped down the cold water nearby. With the air growing chilly, the ice-cold water stung my back and made me shiver.

Yet my mood flipped; the fear vanished.

So once more I tried to dive back into my book. This time, however, a loud woman's voice caught my ear.

"H-hey! What if he notices we're tailing him?!"

The other woman's voice, equally excited, replied.

"I-it's now or never! He's in the bathroom—this is our only chance to peek into his bag!"

"E-even so... it's risky. If he's moving around, he'll get suspicious."

"W-we're not stealing his wallet or anything."

"That's not the point! A quick look at his phone would be fine... just a little, just a tiny bit! Wait—hold on. Give me a second, I need to think."

The woman who'd said "give me a second" was seated right in my line of sight. I didn't know the straight-haired black-haired girl who'd shouted "now's our chance," but I definitely recognized the brown-haired wavy girl looking flustered.

A bad feeling welled up from the pit of my stomach, and to cover it I chugged my coffee. Even bitter coffee couldn't stop the heartburn.

Trying not to let her see me, I hid my face behind my book. And in that single moment—timing couldn't have been worse.

"May I clear your coffee cup?"

"Y-yes..."

"Then I'll—ah!"

The pure-hearted waitress tried to take the cup but it slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor. The cup shattered, the sharp clatter echoing through the café—more than enough to draw the gaze of the women I'd hoped to avoid.

While the waitress bowed frantically with tears in her eyes, the fluffy-haired girl came over.

"Ah! Hyoga-kun!"

She wore the expression of someone who'd spotted something rare, and declared, "I need you," looking down on me with an air of superiority.

The waitress stood right in front of me. If I shoved past her I could escape, but who knows what the onlookers would think if I bolted from a crying girl.

Worst case, everyone would remember me as "the guy who broke a cup and made the waitress cry." I definitely didn't want that.

Resigned, I accepted that I was getting dragged into their mess.

But first, a word to the fluffy-haired brown detective.

"Hold on. Let me handle this commotion first."

Once the waitress finished apologizing, the conversation with Detective Chikage began. She told me to come to their table and sit. Expecting a long tale, I tucked my book into my bag.

"So, Hyoga-kun... I want your opinion. I'm tailing someone for a case."

"Who and why...?"

What Detective Chikage told me was about tailing a man named Uchima.

The reason for surveillance was that he'd left a strange note before leaving home—family and friends were worried. The note read: "I'm going to end my life now." It could be interpreted in many ways, so they couldn't be sure it was a suicide threat. They couldn't make a big fuss, and even if they called the police it wasn't clear they'd help. The family couldn't watch him around the clock because of work, so they hired a detective just in case.

Detective Chikage was therefore tailing him to prevent suicide—except when he went to the toilet.

"So while he's in the bathroom I'm wondering if I should check the waist pouch he left on the seat. One of my clients, Ms. Hasegawa, asked me to."

So that's why she was arguing with Ms. Hasegawa earlier. The black-haired woman talking to Detective Chikage must be her.

The client had come along and was watching from nearby.

They wanted to see if anything inside the waist pouch could be a clue.

From the facts and the flow of the story, I could guess what Detective Chikage was about to ask.

"You want me to decide whether it's okay as a detective to peek inside the waist pouch?"

Detective Chikage looked down at me.

"Y-yes, exactly!"

So I gave her a smile and said:

"I refuse."

"Eh!?"

"I'm not a detective."

This time Detective Chikage clasped her hands together.

"B-but please. You've solved mysteries before, right? Like murder cases. This kind of thing..."

"No. Ask someone else."

"Right in front of you!"

"Detective Chikage, calm down for a moment. Are you saying you still want to peek...?"

"Yes, yes! Please! I'll buy you coffee!"

"Actually, because of the cup incident my coffee was free."

"Ugh...!"

If I let it go here, my pride wouldn't forgive me. Was Detective Chikage abandoning her principles? Chin resting on the table, she pleaded "please"...

What's wrong is wrong. No matter the reasoning, I couldn't say it was okay.

"If you're a detective, figure it out yourself."

"That's harsh. I did think about it and decided peeking is probably wrong. But what if there's a weapon inside meant for suicide..."

"You could certainly stop him. But what if he gives some weird excuse you have to accept? Once he calms down he might try again somewhere you can't tail him. We need definite proof of intent, then stop him at the last second. That way the police will send a proper counselor too."

"Hmm?"

"Frankly, Detective Chikage, you're too soft. Why aren't you watching him in the toilet? If he does something in there..."

"So in the end, I shouldn't look in the bag now?"

"Hmm, I did say that. But to prevent the suicide, we should check. Find out what he's planning so when he tries we'll know what he intends to use."

"Right, right. You're going to answer after all."

Her last words made me flinch.

In the end I'd let myself get carried away and gave my opinion. I'd meant to stay strict with detectives.

I'm supposed to be thinking of killing a detective, yet here I am helping. Can't be helped... a life is on the line. Can't worry about detectives now. If I stubbornly refused and Uchima really committed suicide... my choice would be the worst.

While I muttered "guess I'll spill it after all," Detective Chikage let out a huge sigh and hung her head.

"What's wrong... weren't you satisfied with what I said?"

"No, even though I told her not to, Ms. Hasegawa didn't just peek into the pouch—she dumped everything out. If he notices we're tailing him now, what are we supposed to do...!"

"Ah..."

At a table quite far away, only a glass of water sat amid scattered memo pads and pens. The person who looked like Ms. Hasegawa, kneeling beside the table and touching the pouch, glanced toward Detective Chikage and gave a sheepish grin.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.