015. The Beginning of the Detective

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The morning sunlight filtered through the sparse branches of camphor trees, casting golden patches that danced upon the Showa-era cobblestone street. Anri Tohru unlocked the café’s door, then hung up the “Closed” sign.

Turning around, he glanced at the girl sitting by the dining table—a girl whose appearance and age seemed younger even than Sakura Hiiragi’s—who was incessantly wiping tears with her sleeve.

Her short, jet-black hair was adorned with a pair of large, pointed cat ears covered in soft fur, twitching back and forth in response to her emotional turmoil.

The delicate, adorable girl wore a very conservative maid outfit. Upon seeing Anri Tohru, her sobs grew even more sorrowful, while the two tails behind her swung almost like propellers.

He still recalled how, just two nights ago, she had pretended to be mature and composed, but now she looked utterly pitiful, like a child who had been bullied and was about to tell on someone to her parents.

“Margaret,” Anri Tohru said, looking down at her from above, “what are you trying to do?”

The “Nekomata” wailed in reply, “The young mistress wants to kill me.”

“Rita’s too weak. I can’t be bothered to kill her,” Sakura Hiiragi, lying weakly on the other side of the table, protested in a feeble voice.

At those words, Margaret’s crying deepened.

As a newly born cat yokai who had neither eaten humans nor killed her own kind, if not for the fame of being a “Nekomata,” she would have long since sunk to the bottom of the monster world, likely to be devoured by passing great demons as a “Rita-chan” dessert.

Her greatest loathing was “shape-shifting,” for it forced her to face her most helpless and fragile form.

Suddenly, Sakura Hiiragi slammed the table and stood up, then walked over and pinched the cat ears atop Margaret’s head. “Rita, you’re too noisy. I want to sleep.”

Margaret’s crying stopped abruptly. Though tears continued to stream down her cheeks, she bit her lip tightly, not daring to utter a single sound.

She looked truly pitiful—

But upon reflection, it was understandable that a timid cat yokai, who trembled in fear at the mere thought of being hunted by the S.T.F. and wouldn’t dare step outside this café, had to share a room with the “Witch,” who stood at the pinnacle of Japan’s onmyoji and occult practitioners society...

Indeed, it was quite a strain on her mental endurance.

Anri Tohru could roughly guess from their conversation and expressions what had passed between them last night... Namely, that the aristocratic Sakura Hiiragi habitually bossed around the lowest-ranking member—Margaret—and scared the already timid cat yokai out of her wits.

Fortunately, it was confirmed that Sakura Hiiragi wouldn’t actually slaughter Margaret to vent her emotions.

Of course, even if she did, it wouldn’t really matter. The fewer people who knew about the connection between Anri Tohru and the “Shinigami,” the better.

The reason Anri Tohru chose to spare Margaret’s life was simple... as a member of the S.T.F., he would sooner or later need to harness a strange power for future missions.

Margaret, as a newborn “Nekomata,” happened to possess great potential and was easy to control. With some guidance to ensure she wouldn’t leak secrets, she might prove useful in the future.

Keeping her in the café could also serve as a toy for the Witch, preventing her from wandering around aimlessly...

Viewed this way, it was a fusion of pragmatism and self-interest—extracting every bit of value from the “Nekomata.”

But it was unrealistic to expect Anri Tohru, a human, to empathize with a yokai, even one who hadn’t yet harmed a soul...

“I’m off to work. You two can get along from here,” he said.

Glancing down at the counterfeit nameplate watch on his wrist, the corporate drone briskly left the café.

Leaving Margaret to silently and futilely struggle under Sakura Hiiragi’s torment.

...

Riding Todō Ryōtarō’s bicycle, Anri Tohru arrived at headquarters.

He strode into the office with great purpose.

What shocked him was this—

Without his beloved bike, Todō Ryōtarō was, once again, the first to arrive at his desk.

Even if it meant squeezing into a crowded train, pushing through throngs of people, and walking across waiting halls and underground passages, he insisted on being first in the office...

Was this the spirit befitting the captain of the S.T.F. First Squad?

Recalling how he had almost been blocked by a human wall at the station entrance the previous morning, Anri Tohru couldn’t help but feel deep respect for the middle-aged man seated at his desk.

“Tohru-kun,” Todō Ryōtarō leaned back in his chair, watching Anri Tohru sign in on the attendance sheet, “my bike’s still parked in the usual spot, right?”

“Of course, Captain Todō.”

Straightening up, Todō lowered his voice cautiously. “About what I asked you last night...”

“Sorry, I couldn’t persuade Shirane-san.”

That was the truth.

Shirane Naruko had promised never to disclose Anri Tohru’s secret membership in the Starlight Detective Agency... After all, as a high schooler, she faced many inconveniences during her detective activities. Having a reliable adult working within the public security system to assist made all the difference.

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This allowed Anri Tohru to respond to Todō Ryōtarō’s inquiries with confidence.

After all, Todō wasn’t the true “client” in the official sense. The real client was Shirane Naruko’s parents.

Frankly speaking, the agreement or commission had never truly been established, so issues of breach of trust didn’t exist...

Because Anri Tohru’s client had effectively changed to Shirane Naruko herself.

...

Todō Ryōtarō was not disappointed by Anri Tohru’s answer.

After all, his troublesome niece was not someone who could be stopped by mere words.

“Tohru-kun, at ten o’clock we’re responsible for patrolling Sakurakami Town. Since it’s a bit far, we’ve been authorized to use police cars and patrol vehicles this time.”

Todō sighed. “But tomorrow, we’ll be back to bike patrol. Even though you submitted the application yesterday afternoon, remember to go to logistics during lunch today. Don’t let those old men delay things until next week with endless procrastination.”

Anri Tohru sat down and looked at the briefcase already placed on his desk, containing the firearms, ammunition, and anti-strange tools he had applied for yesterday morning.

“It’s strange how simple it was to get a handgun and talismans, yet obtaining a decrepit old bicycle is such a hassle.”

“Making simple things complicated is performance; making complicated things simple is skill...” Todō Ryōtarō’s tone was full of helplessness. “Applying for a bike might be harder than applying for divine tools above level six.”

“Tokyo work is truly bitter.”

“Isn’t it? Though you’re quite skilled now, there’s still more to learn.”

Todō patted Anri Tohru’s shoulder in comfort.

It was a monotonous, quiet early spring morning; a cool breeze fluttered the curtains. A professional book lay open on the desk, its pages rustling softly as they rubbed against each other.

...

Shirane Naruko gazed out at the cherry trees.

Though the cherry blossoms hadn’t yet bloomed, their lush shadows swayed across the world, carrying a faint fresh fragrance that lifted the spirits.

The teacher was painstakingly writing on the blackboard, chalk dust falling; the dull, boring history class had students dozing off one by one...

In classroom 2-A, Shirane Naruko listened attentively.

Much knowledge about “Cognitive Onmyōdō” was fragmented and packed into high school textbooks.

Especially in the “Japanese History” and “World History” courses.

In fact, Shirane Naruko took every class seriously. As the top student this semester, maintaining her rank required significant effort both in and out of class.

When she suddenly felt her attention drawn outside the classroom, she bit her tongue to force herself back from wasting time.

“...Now, please turn your books to the next page. Nikaidō, please read aloud the excerpt about ‘Abe no Seimei’s visit to China.’”

“Yes!” Nikaidō stood up; the chair scraped the floor. “In the year 970, ‘Onmyōdō’ master Abe no Seimei traveled with his disciples...”

Shirane Naruko picked up her pen and took notes in the margins.

But her mind involuntarily drifted toward the detective agency about fifteen minutes from school.

She thought of the special police officer she had luckily recruited last night; it seemed the detective work was finally getting on track—

Oh no, daydreaming again.

Shirane furrowed her brow; her mind was restless.

After all, she had been troubled for a long time by the sudden “Sakurakami Girl Disappearance Case” from the previous semester.

This was a bizarre case that lasted nearly half a year.

It began with a close female classmate mysteriously vanishing on the day they returned from vacation and started their second year.

Shortly after, another girl from class 2-B also disappeared.

After the school and parents contacted each other and reported it, the Metropolitan Police Department immediately launched an investigation...

But the outcome was unexpected; the two girls seemed to have vanished into thin air, with no leads whatsoever.

They simply left their homes one ordinary day and completely disappeared from this world.

The investigation lasted an entire month, but with no results, the police classified the case as “runaway.”

It was a highly unreliable and unreasonable conclusion.

The victims’ parents expressed strong anger and condemnation, pleading with the police not to give up on their daughters, but received no response...

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Perhaps it was not “unwillingness to respond,” but “inability to respond.”

Shirane Naruko asked her parents and uncle, who worked at the Metropolitan Police Department. Their answers varied, but all essentially advised her not to get involved; it wasn’t a child’s concern.

With no help from adults, driven by the sense of justice ingrained since childhood, Shirane Naruko gathered many students who had been friends with the victims to form an “After-School Detective Club,” voluntarily investigating during their free time.

But as time passed, repeated fruitless searches dulled the vivid emotions, and the club members grew weary of the meaningless cycle, gradually dropping out.

One entire semester passed.

Now only Shirane Naruko remained in the club.

She vaguely understood that the truth behind the disappearances was beyond the reach of an ordinary high schooler...

So she took all her savings and scholarship money accumulated over the years and truly established a detective agency.

By this point, it was no longer just the so-called “sense of justice” driving her.

Shirane Naruko would never forget the parents of the victims, who had held her hands while crying at the school gate, thanking her for her hard work and urging her not to waste her precious youth on this futile endeavor...

She understood deeply that their words were sincere.

And it was true.

This was a meaningless task.

Even the Metropolitan Police had given up; what could an ordinary high school girl do?

She just... felt dissatisfied.

Watching her classmates vanish and witnessing their parents’ despairing cries and pleas in front of the police headquarters...

Recalling the stooped, wavering backs of those couples at dusk, the cold, indifferent announcements issued by the police, and the disbanding of search teams...

It felt as if something sharp had pierced her heart, draining the fiery liquid within and freezing her limbs stiff.

Shirane Naruko could not accept the idea that the “heroes of justice” she had admired since childhood looked like this.

Therefore, she must not give up.

She refused to accept that the “justice” she had worshipped for more than a decade was so thin and powerless.

She would find the truth herself.

...

A whole semester passed.

No more sudden disappearances occurred at school.

Until the second week of the new semester...

Bang! The classroom door suddenly burst open from outside.

The homeroom teacher—an elderly man—stood anxiously at the entrance.

He trembled as he interrupted the ongoing history lesson.

With the regular teacher’s expression turning from shock to growing fear, the homeroom teacher stepped onto the podium.

“You... have you seen Yuuki-san at school these past few days?”

“...”

The once dull, sleepy classroom erupted in chaos. Forgotten memories and the long-suppressed “Sakurakami Girl Disappearance Case” surged back to life.

This was the third victim.

The boys and girls whispered and whispered, their panic and fear escalating as they discussed the girl who hadn’t come to school for a whole week.

Amid the uproar, Shirane Naruko sat stunned at her desk, her gaze fixed on the elderly man at the podium.

Surrounded by overwhelming helplessness, her thoughts stretched out painfully; the world seemed to fall silent in fear and unease.

Now... what am I to do?