Chapter 2: Valentine Soiree

1

After a hectic January, it’s now February.

Riiing, riiing. Kura’s landline phone was ringing more often lately. Each time it did, Holmes would groan, slump his shoulders, and pick up the receiver. Despite his reluctance, he’d say in a cheerful voice, “Hello, you’ve reached the antique store Kura. How may I help you?” Soon after, he’d switch to a low voice, saying, “Sorry, I’m not a detective.”

Ueda was here this time, drinking coffee at the counter. He burst out laughing at Holmes’s response. Once Holmes put down the receiver, Ueda teased, “What, another job request?”

I tilted my head. “A job request?”

“You haven’t heard, Aoi? Word’s gotten out that this guy’s a great detective. People keep calling in asking him to solve their cases,” Ueda said, pointing at Holmes and laughing as if it was hilariously amusing.

“I had no idea. Is that true?” I asked Holmes.

He sighed and slumped his shoulders. “It’s my grandfather who’s spreading the rumor. To make matters worse, he’s exaggerating the stories.”

“You’re the talk of the town, kid. The ones I heard were, ‘He can read your mind just by looking at you,’ ‘The moment he arrives on the scene, he knows who did it,’ and ‘He beats up criminals fast and mercilessly.’”

“Ugh, a person who matches that description wouldn’t be human,” Holmes said, exasperated.

I held my tongue and exchanged looks with Ueda. The stories are exaggerated, but they’re not entirely wrong.

“There are people who believe those rumors and try to make real requests,” Holmes said, sitting down in his chair. “It’s extremely bothersome.” He opened the inventory list.

“What kinda requests have you been getting?”

“I haven’t asked for details since I’m not taking any. Some people tell me regardless, though, and even if I were a real detective, I wouldn’t want to take any of those cases. For example, ‘I think one of my relatives is targeting my life because they’re after my riches—can you tell me who it is?’ or ‘I want to know if my boyfriend is thinking about marriage.’ Most of them are like that.”

“Yeah, that’s a pain.” Ueda nodded in understanding.

I nodded too. “They really believe that you can read minds, huh?”

“Yes, and judging from the calls I’ve received, it seems to be mostly women who fell for it.”

“Nah, it’s ’cause the rumors came with a huge bonus—‘He’s a beautiful young man with the grace of a weeping cherry tree.’”

“I’m flattered, but it’s still plum blossom season.” Holmes slumped his shoulders yet again.

Weeping cherry trees are similar to weeping willows. The branches full of cherry blossoms hang down towards the ground and have an elusive, magical aura. They’re very beautiful and at times they feel vaguely frightening. “I don’t know who spread that rumor, but that’s a good comparison,” I said earnestly, imagining a magnificent weeping cherry tree.

Holmes sighed lightly. “That was also my grandfather,” he said reluctantly.

“The owner?” Ueda and I asked in unison. I guess he’s still doting on his grandson.

“Well, it’s about time for me to get going to Kitayama,” Ueda said, putting his coffee cup back on its saucer with a clink and stretching.

Last December, Ueda opened a cafe on Kitayama Street. It’s one of those cafes where all of the staff are good-looking young men. Business was booming at first, and I went there several times too, but I haven’t gone recently.

“How is the cafe doing?” I asked.

“Great,” he answered. “That said, I wanna hand it over to someone else while business is still good.”

“Huh? How come?” I blinked, surprised.

Holmes gave a strained laugh. “Shops that rely on handsome men are dangerous. There’s no guarantee that you’ll always be able to secure quality personnel, and problems crop up with the female customers. It’s not so bad if there’s a dedicated owner that can always be there to manage the store, but Ueda runs several businesses, so he’s too busy.”

“That’s the gist of it. But hey, I won’t have to do this if I can hire Holmes to run the place all the time instead.”

“I politely decline.”

“Figured. Well, see ya.” Ueda stood up straight and left the store.

Once he was gone, I quickly got up and reached for his cup to put it on the tray. Holmes had the same idea, and our hands brushed against each other. I gasped and reflexively pulled back my hand.

“My apologies,” he said.

“N-No, it’s fine. I’ll clean up—”

“Can I ask you something?” He was looking at me.

“What is it?”

“Whenever our hands touch, no matter how slightly, you recoil like that. Are you scared of me?” he asked seriously.

I blinked. “N-No... I’m not scared.”

Holmes sighed, seeming slightly relieved. He cast his eyes down and asked quietly, “I-In that case, uh... Do you dislike me or something?” His voice was so quiet that I almost didn’t hear it over the jazz music playing in the background.

“Huh?”

“If the slightest touch makes you uncomfortable...then I’ll be more careful about it,” he said, not making eye contact with me.

I gaped in surprise. Whenever our hands or shoulders touched unexpectedly, I quickly distanced myself out of embarrassment. I didn’t think he’d interpret it that way. How could I possibly dislike him? Why would such a perceptive person come to that conclusion? Is it because I tried so hard to draw a line between us? Did that give off a bad impression?

“N-No, of course I don’t dislike you. It’s the opposite, actually. I like you—and the manager and the owner—a lot. I love Kura, and I truly respect you,” I said firmly.

Holmes looked conflicted. I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was relieved or sad. “That’s...good to hear,” he said weakly.

Maybe he doesn’t believe me. “I-I’m telling the truth. Touching hands doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all—I just pull back out of surprise. H-Here, let’s shake hands.” I held out my right hand.

Holmes’s eyes widened. He gently took my hand. Even though it was about as loose as a handshake could get, my heart was racing.

“S-See? I don’t mind touching your hand,” I said. I was about to let go, when the corners of Holmes’s mouth curved up ever so slightly and he squeezed my hand firmly. This time, my heart leapt.

“Yes, I’m glad. I was afraid that you might even hate me,” he said, not letting go of my hand.

“What? I could never...” Even though it was just a handshake, the way he gazed at me while holding my hand made my cheeks flush. I inadvertently looked down.

“Yes, I finally understand that you don’t hate me.”

“F-Finally?”

“...Your hands are small, aren’t they?”

“N-No, they’re normal. It’s your hands that are big.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, your fingers are really long.” I stared at his hand which was still holding mine. His large, pale, slightly bony hand with long fingers.

Um... What now? What exactly is this situation we’re in?

Then the door chime rang. Surprised, I turned to the door and saw the manager there. His eyes widened when he saw us mid-handshake.

“Are you reconciling? Did something happen?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Yes, well, something like that,” Holmes said curtly, slowly letting go of my hand. “Oh right, Ueda was here just now.”

“I know,” the manager said, nodding. “I passed by him on the street and we had a little chat. He seems to be doing well as usual.”

“Indeed. Would you like coffee?”

“No, I’m fine. I was at a cafe before I came here.” The manager hung up his coat and sat down in his usual seat at the end of the counter.

Feeling awkward, I quickly grabbed the feather duster and began cleaning.

“Oh right, Aoi,” Holmes said, interrupting me. “The handshake reminded me...” He opened the drawer behind the counter.

“Huh?”

“These are for you.” He took out a brand-new pair of white gloves, still in their plastic packaging. “They’re appraisal gloves for women. The non-slip material makes them easy to use. Feel free to have them, if you’d like.”

“W-Wow! Thank you very much.” I did have gloves, but they weren’t formal appraisal gloves. I’d secretly wanted these, so I was really happy. “I’m so happy. I’ll make sure to use them with care.” I accepted the gloves and held them tightly in my hands.

“Yes, please do.”

“Good for you, Aoi,” the manager said. But unlike us, he wasn’t smiling. He seemed restless and fidgety. I wonder what’s wrong?

“Is something the matter, Dad?” Holmes asked gently. He’d immediately noticed the manager’s behavior too.

“Oh, er, well...” The manager averted his gaze.

Holmes sat down across from him and looked him in the eye. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“Y-Yes... Kiyotaka, do you know the writer named Kurisu Aigasa?” the manager began reluctantly. Apparently his restlessness was because he had something to say to Holmes and was trying to find the right time.

“I know the name, yes.”

I sat down next to Holmes and nodded too. Kurisu Aigasa is a woman who writes occult mysteries. She’s one of the most popular writers in her light novel label, and her works have received anime adaptations too. She’s also popular as a personality because she’s very young and wears flashy makeup and is famous for wearing Gothic Lolita fashion while writing. There are a lot of fans of Kurisu Aigasa herself, not just her works.

“Well, her previous editor is the one currently assigned to me,” the manager continued.

“Oh?” we replied. I guess in a large publishing company, it’s possible for an editor to be transferred from the light novel division to the historical novel division.

“Apparently Aigasa is going to be holding a reading of her work, and I was asked to invite you, Kiyotaka.” The manager looked at Holmes with pleading eyes.

“Why me?”

“She’s originally from Kanto, but now she lives in Kyoto. It seems that she heard the rumors about you from somewhere. A beautiful young detective with the grace of a weeping cherry tree, nicknamed the ‘Holmes of Kyoto’...”

Holmes fell to the counter and said, “I’m begging you—can you please dispel these rumors?”

“Don’t worry—everyone’s well aware that the rumors are exaggerated. Anyway, could you attend the reading? You can bring Aoi too. Maybe you can solve the misunderstanding while you’re there,” the manager said impatiently. He must’ve told his editor that Holmes would go.

“When and where is it?”

“It’s on the night of Valentine’s Day, at the Yoshida-Sanso Inn. Sorry, I know it’s a special day for you.”

“Hm?” I furrowed my brow. What does he mean by that? Is Valentine’s Day a special day for Holmes? Or does he mean that it’s special for all young men? Come to think of it...it’s almost Valentine’s Day. I do want to give Holmes chocolate for everything he’s done for me. But would he misunderstand if I gave him Valentine’s chocolate? I’ll have to prepare it in a way where he won’t think it’s romantic. What kind of chocolate would make my intent obvious?

As I was racking my brain, Holmes abruptly sat back up and said, “Yoshida-Sanso Inn? That’s not a bad idea.” There was a glimmer in his eyes. He must’ve found the location appealing.

“Umm, is that a nice place?” I asked quietly.

Holmes nodded. “Yes. The Yoshida-Sanso Inn is located halfway up Mount Yoshida. It was originally built in the early Showa era as the second home of Emperor Showa’s brother-in-law, Higashi-Fushimi no Miya. After World War II, it became a traditional inn with a focus on cuisine, and sometimes events such as recitals are held there. It’s a magnificent mountain retreat,” he explained passionately. “Aigasa must have good taste.”

“I see... If it’s on Mount Yoshida, does that mean it’s near Kyoto U, by Yoshida Shrine?”

“Yes, it’s east of there. If you go east on Imadegawa Street then south for a while on Kaguraoka Street, you’ll see it on the right.”

“It’s near the Philosopher’s Walk too,” the manager continued.

I nodded in vague understanding. I’d been exploring Kyoto on my bike since moving here, but there were still a lot of streets and places that I didn’t know.

“Aoi, will you come to the reading with me? I’d love for you to experience Yoshida-Sanso’s brilliance too,” Holmes said, now fully eager to go.

I giggled. If the manager had mentioned Yoshida-Sanso from the start, Holmes wouldn’t have complained. It was kind of cute how moody and straightforward Holmes could be.

“Sure, I’d love to.” I nodded.

The manager put his hand on his chest, relieved.

2

Then it was Valentine’s Day. The reading was to begin at 6 p.m., with doors opening thirty minutes beforehand. Holmes and I left the store early and headed to Mount Yoshida by car.

“The invitations are in this envelope that the manager gave us as we were leaving, right? Can I check them?” I rummaged through my bag and took out the white, Western-style envelope.

“Yes, please do.”

“Okay.” I carefully opened the envelope and saw the title on the invitation: Valentine’s Night Soiree at Yoshida-Sanso’s Shinkokan: Kurisu Aigasa’s Storytelling of the Soul.

“What’s ‘Shinkokan’?” I asked.

“Ah, the reading isn’t being held at the inn itself, but at Shinkokan, which has its own charm. Shinkokan is the name of the cafe on Yoshida-Sanso Inn’s premises. It’s retained its original outer appearance from when it was built for Higashi-Fushimi no Miya. It’s like a small, Western-style hideaway. Personally, it’s one of my top five recommended cafes. That said, I haven’t been there in quite some time, so I’m thrilled to have this opportunity,” Holmes explained cheerfully as he drove.

“I-It’s one of your top five cafes?” I asked. Holmes was a cafe enthusiast who made it his mission to visit every cafe in Kyoto. This must be a really amazing cafe if it made his top five.

“Yes, but it’s ultimately a matter of personal taste,” he reminded me.

“I know. What are the other four cafes?” I asked, leaning in a bit.

“The...other four?” he murmured. He furrowed his brow and went silent for some time. “Sorry, I have too many favorites. I can’t decide right now. You’ll have to give me some time.”

I giggled at how much thought he put into it. “But Yoshida-Sanso’s Shinkokan is definitely in the top five, right?”

“Yes. The outer appearance, interior decoration, atmosphere, and view from the window are all to my preference.”

“Not the taste of the coffee?”

“Yoshida-Sanso’s coffee is delicious, of course. But what I look for in a cafe is the ambience. What matters is how comfortable it is to spend time in that space. If the coffee was all that mattered, I can make it at home however I want.”

“Oh, you have a point.” That must be Holmes’s cafe philosophy.

After exiting the underground parking garage onto Oike Street, we immediately turned north on Kawabata Street. “Kawabata” means “riverbank,” and as the name implies, it runs along the east side of the Kamo River. When you look out at the river, you can see cherry blossoms in the spring and colorful foliage in the fall. It’s great for walks and cycling too.

“Kawabata Street is nice, right?” I said, looking out the window. “I like riding my bike here, and sometimes when I’m going to Kura from my house, I’ll take a detour to go down this street.”

“Yes, it’s great because you can see the river and the trees. Oh right, Kawabata Street used to be a railroad. It only went as far as Sanjo, though.”

“Huh? It was?”

“Yes, but it was before I was born. Apparently the Keihan Line ran through here until the first year of the Heisei period. Due to construction work, the railroad was moved underground.”

“That’s too bad. A train running next to the river would’ve made for nice scenery.”

“It would, but at the same time, it’s much more convenient to have a road here.”

“I see.” I nodded.

When we reached Marutamachi Street, Holmes turned east onto it.

“You’re not turning on Imadegawa Street?” I asked.

“It’s faster to turn onto Marutamachi Street, then go north for a bit on Yoshida East Street, then turn east onto one of the small roads.”

“I see...” That’s a local for you.

Holmes impressively weaved his way through the narrow roads, not relying on a GPS. Before long, I saw Yoshida-Sanso Inn’s entrance. It had a temple-like gate with a black sign that said “Yoshida-Sanso” in white letters. We drove through the gate and headed up a gentle slope. The staff in the garden gave us parking instructions, which we followed. After getting out of the car, we found ourselves in front of the Yoshida-Sanso Inn, which stood in the middle of a delicately arranged garden.

“Wow,” I murmured. It wasn’t flashy, but it was an elegant Japanese-style manor with a calm air. It was exactly what you’d expect an imperial villa to look like. “This is amazing. I can feel the history behind it.”

“Indeed. This mountain retreat was built in the seventh year of the Showa period, and apparently it’s built entirely out of Japanese cypress. It has a warm elegance.”

“Yes, and it feels kind of nostalgic. It really has that early Showa feel, unlike buildings from the Meiji and Taisho eras. It feels like something you’d see in one of Seishi Yokomizo’s novels...” I murmured, staring at the inn. Seishi Yokomizo was a famous author who wrote historical detective novels.

“Indeed,” Holmes said with a chuckle. “It does seem like the kind of old home that Kosuke Kindaichi would get called to.” Kosuke Kindaichi was the private detective character that featured in many of Yokomizo’s works.

“Yes, I can just imagine him walking out, scratching his head. Oh, and a beautiful landlady, too.”

“And an old woman muttering creepy things to herself, right?”

“Yeah, a slightly scary old woman!”

“Sometimes she comes in a pair.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

“Anyway,” Holmes said, turning around. “This is Shinkokan.”

The cafe was located right next to the inn. It was a small Western-style house, but it wasn’t the showy kind of Western architecture—it was a simple, quiet wooden house that you might expect to find in the middle of a forest.

“This one kind of seems like it’d be in one of Kenji Miyazawa’s works,” I said. Kenji Miyazawa was a children’s author. “I imagined the Wildcat House to look something like this.”

“I see.” Holmes folded his arms. “The Restaurant of Many Orders, right?”

“Yes. It’s nostalgic, right? I read it in elementary school.” Two men got lost in a forest and came across a restaurant called the Wildcat House. When they went in, they were presented with a variety of orders, and in the end, it turned out that it wasn’t a restaurant where you can eat food—it was a restaurant where you get eaten as food. It was a bit of a scary fantasy story.

“I remember the line that said, ‘Please spread the cream in the jar all over your face, hands, and feet.’ It’s a scary story from the perspective of the prey, but when you read it from the predator’s point of view, it’s rather thrilling, right?” He looked at me.

My face stiffened. “N-Normally you wouldn’t read it from the predator’s point of view.”

“My bad,” he said with a laugh. He then looked at the building. In front of it was a standing signboard that said, “Valentine’s Night Soiree at Yoshida-Sanso’s Shinkokan: Kurisu Aigasa’s Storytelling of the Soul.” On the door was a sign that said “Opening Soon.”

“They’re not open yet. I suppose we arrived too early.”

“Yeah.” There’s only fifteen minutes left though, so I’m sure they’ll open soon. I looked at the signboard again and suddenly remembered: “O-Oh right, since it’s Valentine’s Day, I brought chocolate for you, if you’d like.” I took the wrapped package out of my bag before I could forget, and handed it to Holmes.

“Huh? For me?” His eyes widened in apparent surprise.

“Yes, as thanks for all you’ve done for me.”

The clear wrapping revealed the chocolate inside, which was in the shape of Sherlock Holmes’s side profile, pipe in mouth. There were also the words, “Thank you for everything.”

“Sherlock Holmes chocolate, huh?” Holmes said cheerfully.

“Yes, since you’re the ‘Holmes of Kyoto,’ after all.”

“Thank you very much. I love Sherlock Holmes, so this is great,” he continued.

“Huh?” I quickly looked up at him. “You...like Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yes, I’m a big fan.”

“B-But then, how come whenever someone calls you Holmes, you say it’s because your surname is Yagashira?”

“It’s because I’m a fan of Holmes. It’s an honor to be called that, but at the same time, I don’t feel worthy. You wouldn’t be happy for long if people kept calling you the ‘Irene of Shimogamo,’ right?” He was referring to Irene Adler, the character from Sherlock Holmes. She was a stunning and incredibly brilliant woman.

“No...but there’s no way anyone would call me that in the first place. That example makes no sense,” I said, frowning.

“Setting that aside, do you remember when we first met Akihito? He was clearly upset that I was called Holmes, right? I know that feeling very well.”

“I see, so that’s what it was.” It was because Holmes was a Sherlock fan himself that he used that surname excuse.

Holmes looked down at the chocolate again and smiled. “Really, thank you. It’s a wonderful birthday present too.”

“Birthday...?”

“Yes. Today, February 14th—Valentine’s Day—is my birthday.”

“Wh-Whaaat?!” I exclaimed in a high-pitched tone, shocked by the unexpected news.

“There’s no need to be that surprised.”

“O-Of course I’m surprised! I had no idea!” So that’s why the manager said it was a special day for him. I never thought it’d be his birthday.

“I never told you, so it’s only natural that you wouldn’t know.”

“I-If you told me, I would’ve gotten you a present!”

“You did give me a present. Thank you again.” He held up the wrapped chocolate with a childish grin.

“N-No, that’s Valentine’s chocolate. I would’ve wanted to get you a proper birthday present too.”

“It’s the thought that counts. Just knowing that makes me happy enough.”

“No, I’ll get you something at a later date. But honestly, I have no idea what would be good, so it might end up being something trivial again, like the homemade cookies I gave you for Christmas.”

“They weren’t trivial!” he exclaimed angrily.

My eyes widened in surprise.

“Er, I mean, I was very happy to receive those cookies. I ate them slowly day by day because I didn’t want to waste them... They were delicious.” He quickly averted his gaze.

“Th-Thanks.” My heart was pounding with joy. I didn’t know he was that happy about them. “S-So does that mean you’re twenty-three now?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Congratulations. You’re even more of an adult now, huh?”

“Thank you... Yes, I really am.” A sour expression rose to his face. I tilted my head, confused as to why he would make that face. Then, Holmes looked over at a minibus that had entered the inn’s premises. “The other guests are here, and the door is open now. Shall we go in?”

“Oh, sure.”

I glanced at the bus as I walked towards the door. Several men and women were getting off. The cold February wind led me to look up at the sky, which was gradually being taken over by the sunset—orange in the west and indigo in the east. The pale moon which hung over the trees, mountain inn, and Western house was breathtakingly beautiful. It was a fantastical scene, like something from another world.

It was almost as if it was hinting at what was about to happen at the reading.

3

“Welcome! It’s good to see you.”

The reception desk for the event was right by the entrance. The staff member working there was a young woman in her late teens or early twenties—probably a student. Like Kurisu Aigasa, she wore a Gothic Lolita outfit... Well, it was a dark red retro-modern dress that reminded me more of the Taisho period. It would’ve seemed out of place anywhere else, but it actually fit quite well with this old-fashioned Western house.

“May I see your ticket or invitation?” she asked with a smile.

I hurriedly took out the white envelope the manager gave us and handed it directly to her.

“Thank you.” She checked the contents and said, “Mr. Yagashira, right? We’ve been waiting for you. Please go up to the second floor.” She pointed at a staircase near the entrance.

We bowed and went to the stairs. As we were going up, I noticed the next guest in line paying an entrance fee. Apparently invited guests didn’t have to pay, but everyone else did.

At the top of the stairs was the second-floor cafe area.

“It’s so nice...” I murmured in admiration. I could just imagine the way footsteps would echo from the dark brown wooden floor. There were five wooden tables in a brighter color, all of which were decorated with bright red roses. The wooden window frames were the same color as the floor and contrasted beautifully with the white walls. There was a small chandelier on the ceiling and antique lantern-like lights by the windows. A single blood-red velvet armchair stood by itself. That’s probably where the storyteller will sit. Quiet cello music was playing in the background. The scent of roses in this nostalgic setting was making me dizzy—it was a mysterious feeling, as if I really had wandered into another world.

“Is something wrong?” Holmes asked, bringing me back to my senses.

I looked up at him and said, “Oh, it’s nothing,” choosing not to tell him about my fantasy thoughts. He didn’t look out of place at all here, which made me smile. Come to think of it, the first time I visited Kura, I also thought it was like another world.

“This is my first time at an event like this,” I continued. “Is the author herself going to be reading?”

Holmes shook his head. “No, I think it’ll be a professional. For an author, there’s probably no greater nightmare than reading their own story in front of other people.”

“Wait, really?”

“My father hates it if you so much as open one of his books in front of him.”

“H-Huh, I see.” That’s pretty characteristic of him, though.

“So, sometimes I say, ‘This line is very well written,’ and read it out loud to him. He turns bright red and immediately runs away somewhere,” Holmes said with a chuckle.

My face stiffened. I guess his father is subject to his wickedness too. Hang in there, Manager.

As we were talking, the other guests noisily made their way upstairs. There was a man in his early thirties, two women in their early twenties, and then two men who seemed to be the women’s companions. Lastly came a man in his forties wearing a wrinkled suit who seemed like he didn’t want to be there.

That’s six people so far... Including us, eight. This place isn’t very big. Judging from the number of tables, this might be everyone? It was a very small-scale event considering how famous the author was. More importantly, I thought that Kurisu Aigasa’s fans would be younger than this...

As if reading my mind, Holmes swiftly showed me his phone screen and said, “I checked Aigasa’s official website, and it doesn’t say anything about this event.”

I looked at the screen which was open to her homepage. It had a black background with red roses, and the only major piece of news was an apology for the delay of her upcoming book.

“This might be a trial run for friends and family before the official readings begin.”

“Oh, I see.” That would explain the small scale and the age range of the guests.

“Since we were coming here, I read a few of Aigasa’s works beforehand,” Holmes continued.

“I did too,” I said, nodding. “But I only read one, because I’m not good with that kind of brutal, occult mystery,” I confessed, shrinking back.

“I thought they’d be lighter since they were written while wearing Gothic Lolita fashion, but it’s not good to have preconceptions. The stories instill terror and the ruthless plot developments don’t betray your expectations. Most of all, I was surprised by the well-crafted tricks and the elaborate composition. It reminded me of the English writer who was crowned the ‘Queen of Mystery.’ I can understand why she has such devout fans.”

“Yes. It’s not my thing, but I think there are a lot of people who like that kind of world.”

“Aigasa was in animation school when she won an honorable mention from a publisher’s monthly rookie contest. That was apparently what led to her debut. It was a very small-scale award—the prize was only one hundred thousand yen.”

“Wow, really?” It was an unbelievably modest debut considering her current success.

“Yes. No one had expected much from her at the time, but when her winning work was published in a magazine, it was quite well received. The publisher released a revised version in book form and it sold incredibly well. She became a popular author in the blink of an eye.”

“That’s an amazing success story,” I said, impressed.

A man in his early thirties perked up when he saw Holmes and walked over to us. “Are you Ijuin’s son, by any chance?” he asked.

We turned to face him.

“Sorry, I should introduce myself first,” he continued. “I’m his editor, Hashimoto. I was assigned to Aigasa before, but now I’m assigned to him.” He smiled and held out his business card. The man was tall and had innocent, unassuming features. He seemed like he’d be popular with women. He was also dressed more like a television producer than an editor at a publishing company.

“Thank you for working with my father. My name is Kiyotaka Yagashira. I’m a student, but I also help with my grandfather’s store.” Holmes took his Kura business card out of his breast pocket and exchanged it with Hashimoto’s.

“I’m sorry for making you come out here. Aigasa heard the rumors about you and insisted that you come today. You’re as handsome as the rumors say.” Hashimoto folded his arms and nodded. Then he looked at me and said, “Is this young lady your...?”

“N-No, I’m a part-timer at Kura. My name is Aoi Mashiro.” I hurriedly introduced myself and bowed.

“Are you in high school, Aoi?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice... A real high school girl, huh?” He looked pleased.

Holmes quickly walked in front of me and said, “You seem to be married, Hashimoto. Are you here by yourself today?” He made it clear that he was looking down at the ring on Hashimoto’s left ring finger.

“Yes,” Hashimoto said, nodding. “My partner got pregnant. That’s also why I’m by myself today.” He slumped his shoulders. Judging by his face when he said his partner got pregnant, I could tell that he hadn’t wanted to marry her yet. Seeing him make that face, I felt bad for his wife. His feelings might change after their child is born, though...

As I was feeling conflicted, the staff came in with trays of black tea, coffee, jasmine tea, juice, sandwiches, scones, and sweets. There was a lot of chocolate, perhaps because it was Valentine’s Day.

“What would you like to drink?” the staff asked each of us one by one, pouring our drinks.

“Is there anything alcoholic?” someone asked.

“Please listen to the reading first. Alcohol will be available afterwards.”

“Oh. I’ll have black tea, then.”

Holmes and I both ordered coffee.

“Have you gotten used to drinking it black?” Holmes asked, peering into my face.

“A little bit,” I said, nodding bashfully. “It’s finally started to taste good.”

“Oh, you’ve recently gotten accustomed to black coffee, Aoi?” Hashimoto asked cheerfully, having overheard our conversation.

“Yes.” I nodded.

The two women looked at us curiously.

“Who are they, Hashimoto?” one of them said.

“Do you know them?” said the other.

Hashimoto nodded. “This is Kiyotaka Yagashira and Aoi Mashiro. Kiyotaka is Takeshi Ijuin’s son,” he said. Then he introduced the two women, saying, “Kiyotaka, these are Aigasa’s friends from when she was in high school, Suzuka Ijima and Kumi Oishi. Since they’re her best friends, they’ve helped me out before too.”

Suzuka Ijima had a cheerful aura, while Kumi Oishi seemed calmer and perhaps shy. Since they’re Aigasa’s high school friends, maybe this event really is for friends and family.

“Oh, Ijuin’s son?” Suzuka said excitedly. “I’m a big fan of him, and so is Maa. Hey, Maa, Ijuin’s son is here!” She waved over a man who was chatting by one of the walls.

“Really?” asked the man, who was in his mid-twenties. His eyes lit up at the mention of Takeshi Ijuin. “I love Ijuin’s stories—they’re messy but deep and beautiful. His historical novels are good, but I can’t get enough of the romance novels he writes from time to time. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Tadashi Oda.” He held out his business card as he excitedly introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Kiyotaka Yagashira. I’m sure my father would be delighted to hear that. Thank you very much.” Holmes looked at the business card and said, “I see you’re a photographer.”

“Yes.” Oda nodded. “I’m only an assistant, though. My mentor photographed Aigasa before, and that’s how I met Suzuka. Aside from being a photographer’s assistant, I also do web design. I helped with Aigasa’s official website too. Oh, but you have no idea how happy I am to be able to meet Ijuin’s son. I love the payoff at the end of his stories.” He began talking passionately again.

The other man who was standing by the wall—the one in his early thirties—walked up to us, grinning. “The payoff at the end, huh? I hope you get your reward too, Oda. How many times have you proposed to Suzuka, and how many times has she put you on hold?” He placed his hand on Oda’s shoulder.

“Don’t say that, Kikuchi. Suzuka’s really busy with work. It’s not her fault.”

It turned out that the man, Kikuchi, was Oda’s mentor, a professional photographer. So far, all of the guests were connected to Kurisu Aigasa. Hashimoto was her editor, Suzuka and Kumi were her friends, Kikuchi had photographed her before, and Oda was Kikuchi’s assistant. The last person was the crude-looking man in his forties. I wonder how he knows her? Could he be her husband or boyfriend?

Just as I turned to peek at him, he clicked his tongue impatiently and said, “Ugh, how long is she gonna keep us waiting?”

“Um, excuse me, who are you?” Hashimoto asked, bewildered.

The man ruffled his hair and said, “I’m Komatsu. Private detective. I did two jobs for Kurisu Aigasa, and even though the work was done, she wasn’t satisfied with one of the results and didn’t pay the investigation fee. Wouldn’t pick up the phone either. Then she calls me out here to this reading. What the hell?” He clicked his tongue again, seemingly annoyed.

“Wh-What kind of investigations were they?” Hashimoto asked timidly.

Komatsu surveyed the room. His face twisted into a grin and he said, “Can’t tell you. Still have to protect the client’s confidentiality.”

The rest of us exchanged looks, bewildered.

4

An awkward atmosphere had settled in. Then, we heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. The chandelier turned off, leaving only the wall lights illuminating the room. The receptionist who was wearing the dark red dress came in. Everyone suddenly went quiet.

“Thank you again for coming to Kurisu Aigasa’s reading today,” she began. “I am her younger sister, Kana Inoue. I will be performing the reading today. I hope you will enjoy it.” She bowed deeply and walked briskly towards the armchair. Then she turned around. She was wearing a deep crimson necklace—ruby, perhaps—that sparkled in the light. She hadn’t been wearing it when she was at the reception desk.

“Now then, I’d like to begin Kurisu Aigasa’s Storytelling of the Soul. Please take your seats.” She lifted the hem of her skirt and bowed gracefully.

Bewildered, we bowed back and sat down as instructed.

“That’s Rika’s sister, huh?” Suzuka said quietly. “I’ve never met her before. Have you, Kumi?”

Kumi silently shook her head.

Apparently Kurisu Aigasa’s real name was Rika.

“Ah, so that’s why...” Holmes murmured extremely quietly from beside me. He gave a profound chuckle and sipped his coffee.

“Huh?” I turned to look at him.

“Shhh,” he said, holding his index finger in front of his mouth.

Kana opened her book. Looks like the reading is beginning. I regained my composure and shifted my gaze to her. The book she was holding was large and had an elaborate cover, like a historical tome from a foreign country. I doubt Kurisu Aigasa released a book like that, so it’s probably specially made for this event.

Kana took a deep breath and began slowly, “On that day, I was killed.” Her words startled me. Even though I knew she was reading from the book, it felt incredibly real. The story was about a budding actress who became a superstar but attracted a lot of jealousy and was murdered by someone.

“Perhaps the shock of death is why I can’t remember anything about the day I died. They say that I tied a red ribbon around my neck, jumped from the railing at my home, and hung myself. I was still wearing my red shoes, and a suicide note with my own signature was left on the balcony. However, I did not commit suicide. Someone murdered me. The culprit is surely among the people gathered here...” Kana looked up at everyone.

Is this part of the act? I nervously looked around. Everyone had gone pale. Huh? What happened?

“Kana, don’t you think this is in poor taste?” Hashimoto said, standing up.

What?

“Y-Yeah! Aren’t we celebrating Rika’s recovery today?” Suzuka continued.

“Has Rika’s condition changed?” Kumi asked.

What’s going on? It wasn’t just me that was confused—Komatsu’s eyes were wide open too.

Kana stood up straight, crossed her arms, and stared at everyone with a frigid expression. “Since there are guests present who do not know of the circumstances, allow me to explain. My older sister, Rika Inoue, achieved success as the author ‘Kurisu Aigasa.’ However, one day, she suddenly attempted suicide. She was wearing her usual black dress and red shoes. A bright red ribbon was tied around her neck, and she hung herself from her apartment balcony. A typed suicide note was left on the balcony, at the end of which was her handwritten signature.

“But the knot must have been loose, for the ribbon came undone and she fell to the ground. The trees formed a cushion that saved her life, but she hit her head and fell unconscious. When she finally awoke, she could not remember anything from that day. However, she declared, ‘I would never commit suicide. Someone tried to murder me.’

“That day, the people who had visited her workplace were Suzuka, Kumi, and Hashimoto—her editor who she had been arguing with in private. Right before she fell, she had been on the phone with Kikuchi, and his assistant Oda would have been with him. Then there was Komatsu, the detective who said ‘I’ll kill you’ to her over a job. In other words, one of the people here tried to murder my sister,” Kana declared firmly.

We were all lost for words.

Komatsu slammed the table. “Wh-What? I only said that because she requested my services and didn’t pay up. It was the spur of the moment! I wasn’t serious!”

Hashimoto leaned forward next and said, “Yeah, and I was her editor. Sometimes I criticized her work, and we argued about it. Even if she jumped because of that, that doesn’t mean I killed her, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Suzuka continued. “Kumi and I were jealous of her success, but we’d never kill her! When we visited her at work that day, she was acting strange, so we were worried and went to buy her favorite pudding for her. When we came back, we found her like that. It was us who panicked and called an ambulance, remember?!” she shouted, distressed.

“Yes, and it wouldn’t benefit us to kill her,” said Kumi, angrily crossing her arms.

The photographer, Kikuchi, shrugged his shoulders in exasperation and tried to laugh it off.

Oda was the only one who said nothing. His face was deathly pale.

“I don’t think I should be suspected of attempted murder just because we talked about work over the phone,” Kikuchi said. “If you’re going to make that claim, Kana, tell us who tried to fake Kurisu Aigasa’s suicide and how.”

Kana smirked and looked at Holmes. “I am not capable of doing that, which is why I invited a famous detective here just for this occasion. Though he is a detective, he is not like Komatsu. He is the astounding gentleman known as the ‘Holmes of Kyoto,’ who can read a person’s mind simply by looking at them and can identify the culprit the moment he steps foot on the crime scene. Mr. Kiyotaka Yagashira, will you please take it upon yourself to solve this mystery? You shall be compensated handsomely.”

I had no doubt that if we were at Kura, Holmes would’ve collapsed on the table in front of us and said, “Give me a break.” But this was Shinkokan.

Holmes looked like he’d resigned himself to his fate—and a faint smile rose to his face.

5

Everyone’s gazes settled on Holmes at once, and he seemed to slump his shoulders ever so slightly before quickly putting on another smile. “I understand,” he said, placing his hand on his chest. “To be honest, this doesn’t sit well with me, but since you requested me specifically, I’ll give it my best effort.”

I was surprised that he’d agree so readily. I was sure he’d say, “That’s just an exaggerated rumor,” or, “They only call me that because of my surname.” Something was off. There was no way he was willing to go along with that unreasonable request. He probably wanted to go straight home. Holmes accepting this without a fuss must mean that...

“Holmes, are you going to give a lazy answer on purpose to ruin your reputation?” I whispered so that only he could hear.

Holmes’s shoulders twitched, and he gave me a strained smile. “You figured it out?” he murmured.

I nodded. I knew it! “I-I know how you feel, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said quietly.

Holmes ran his hand through his hair listlessly. “You’re...right. Since I accepted the job, I have to do it properly.”

“Yes.”

“Well done, Aoi. I can’t hide anything from you.”

“Th-That’s not true.”

The others exchanged looks and frowned suspiciously at our whispering. Suzuka crossed her arms impatiently and asked, “What are you discussing?”

“My apologies,” Holmes said, recomposing himself. “Er, I do have one condition for accepting your request.” He looked at Kana.

“Yes, I do intend to compensate you to the best of my ability,” she answered.

“No, I don’t need compensation. However, regardless of whether my guess is right or wrong, I’d like you to tell everyone, ‘The rumor about him being a great detective is a complete lie. He can’t deduce anything to save his life. He’s just an antiques nut.’”

I couldn’t help but smile at the “antiques nut” part, knowing it was because he wanted to maintain his pride as an appraiser. Meanwhile, everyone else was stunned by the unexpected request.

“Er, in other words, you’re telling me to say that the rumor was false no matter what?” Kana asked as if needing confirmation.

Holmes nodded firmly. “Yes.”

“Wh-Why’s that?” Hashimoto questioned, seeming genuinely confused. The others nodded too.

“I’m simply an appraiser in training. I have no interest in playing detective, so it’d be quite bothersome if this strange rumor spread further, leading to more cases like this,” Holmes said flatly.

Kana bowed in shame. “I-I’m very sorry.”

“So I’ll be counting on you, okay?” Holmes smiled.

Kana nodded and said, “Y-Yes, I understand.”

Kikuchi snorted. “If you guess wrong, rumors that you were a birdbrain all along will spread either way,” he said mockingly.

I felt offended, but Holmes smiled calmly and said, “Yes, that was my original goal. Now then...” He got up and walked up to Kana, his leather shoes tapping loudly against the old wooden floor. He stood beside her and turned to face us. “Despite the rumors, I am indeed a ‘birdbrain,’ so I can’t identify the culprit simply by entering the crime scene. Right now, I still lack understanding of the situation. Therefore, I can only ask you all questions and give my opinion as a third party. Is that all right with you?”

Kana and the rest of the guests looked at each other and gave their assent in their own ways.

“Thank you. I’d like to question you individually now, but first, Kana, could you explain what happened on that day again?” Holmes looked into her eyes as if searching them.

Even from off to the side, I could tell that Kana gulped before nodding and saying, “It happened three months ago, on the second Saturday of the month. My sister was at the apartment where she works, and she jumped from the fifth-floor balcony with a large crimson ribbon around her neck. However, the ribbon came loose and she fell to the ground. Fortunately, the trees cushioned her fall, and her life was spared. She did hit her head, though, and she said that she cannot remember much from that day.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest.

“According to my father, Aigasa is originally from Kanto and now she lives in Kyoto. Did she move to Kyoto after her debut?”

Kana looked surprised at the unexpected question. “Ah, no. After she graduated from high school, she enrolled in a vocational school in Kyoto for animation and screenwriting.”

“I see, so she was in Kanto until high school. By the way, where do you live now, Kana?”

“Some time after my sister debuted as an author, she invited me to move to Kyoto. Right now I work part-time and help her with the housework and accounting.”

“Ah, so that’s why she has a separate apartment for work. My father is the same—he loves his family, but as an author, there are times when he wants to be alone.” Holmes nodded in understanding.

“Yes,” Kana said, seeming more relaxed.

“When did you find out about what happened to her?”

“When she was taken to the hospital, her editor, Hashimoto, called me... After that, there was the police questioning and whatnot.” She furrowed her brow. It must’ve been tedious.

“Did you find out that Suzuka and Kumi visited the apartment beforehand from the police?”

“Yes, I did. That was also how I found out that the photographer, Kikuchi, called her twice.”

“Twice...” Holmes folded his arms in thought.

Kikuchi shrugged. “After I hung up, I realized I forgot to tell her something. That’s all.”

“I’ll ask you in detail about this later, Kikuchi. Now, Kana, why did you decide to hold this reading?”

“After my sister regained consciousness, she said, ‘Don’t let the public know about this,’ and nothing else. That made me believe that she really did attempt suicide. But one day, she suddenly declared, ‘I would never commit suicide. Someone tried to kill me,’ and told me about this plan to expose the culprit.”

“Suzuka said that this reading is intended to celebrate Kurisu Aigasa’s recovery. Did you tell the other guests that too?”

“Yes.”

“Did you also tell them that Aigasa didn’t remember anything from that day?”

“...Yes.”

Holmes seemed like he was expecting that answer. He looked around at everyone.

Oh, so that’s why no one seemed nervous. Assuming the culprit is one of these people, they can relax knowing that she doesn’t remember anything. Or maybe they weren’t sure whether she’d truly lost her memory and came here to find out. They’d have to find it strange that she’d hold this reading instead of telling the police that someone tried to kill her.

“Now then, I’d like to question each of you. I’ll start with Suzuka. Sorry, but could everyone besides Suzuka, Kana, and Aoi please wait on the first floor?”

The others all nodded and went downstairs. Only Holmes, Kana, Suzuka, and I were left on the second floor. Cello music was still playing in the background.

“Please sit here, Suzuka Ijima,” Holmes said, gesturing towards the armchair. He set down another chair facing it and sat down. “Oh, Aoi and Kana, feel free to sit wherever you like.”

I’d only just realized that we’d been standing the entire time. Kana and I quickly sat down in the closest chairs.

Suzuka looked a bit nervous, but she grinned at Holmes in amusement. “This is an interrogation, right? That’s kind of exciting.”

“It’s nothing that drastic. I’m just going to ask you a few questions,” Holmes said, smiling gently. “Suzuka, you were Aigasa’s... Perhaps I’ll call her ‘Rika’ for now. You were Rika’s friend since high school. Could you tell me what led to you becoming friends?” he asked in a calm tone.

“Hmm.” Suzuka looked up at the ceiling. “Kumi, Rika, and I are completely different. I’m the chatty type, and Kumi’s a genius. Rika was...a boring girl who didn’t stand out. We were in different classes too, so normally there’s no way we would’ve become friends. But well, we were on the library committee together for three years. When we became third-years, we suddenly felt way closer when we saw we were all on the committee again. We started talking a lot while doing our committee work, and all three of us liked reading.” She had a soft expression, as if reminiscing.

“Did your friendship continue after graduation?”

“No, we kind of fell apart for a while. Kumi went to a top university, and I went to a party school. Rika went to a vocational school in Kyoto.”

“Do you still live in Kanto?”

Suzuka shook her head. “I’m in Osaka now, since I got a job at a Kansai-based company after graduating from university. Kumi’s in Osaka too. Well, Kumi originally worked at a bank in Tokyo, but she wasn’t feeling it, so she quit right away and came to Kansai for a change of pace. Now she’s just a normal office lady, and I work in the planning department at a travel agency,” she prattled, going beyond the scope of the question. I guess talking is in her nature.

“I see. When did you start associating with Rika again?”

“Hmm, I think it was in my second year of university. Rika suddenly asked us if we could meet up sometime. Oh right, that was also when she said she was thinking of writing a story for a contest. We wished her luck. Then she actually won a prize, so we decided to celebrate and ended up being pretty close ever since.”

“What did you think when Rika won the prize?”

“Hmm, I think I was just like, ‘Oh, good for her.’ I mean, honestly speaking, it was just a small honorable mention, right? The prize was only a hundred thousand yen. At the celebration party, Rika was like, ‘I got the prize money, so I’ll treat you,’ but we were like, ‘It’s only a hundred thousand yen, so you should use it carefully’ and split the bill instead,” Suzuka said, giggling. Apparently she was happy for her friend’s success at the time, and she wasn’t particularly jealous.

“You seem to be in a relationship with Oda, the photographer’s assistant. How did you meet him?”

“Oh, Maa? Since I work in planning at a travel agency, I needed some pictures taken. Rika said she knew a good photographer and introduced me to Kikuchi and Maa. Kikuchi’s good at taking pictures, but he’s kind of mean, so I didn’t like him. And Maa’s job title is ‘photographer’s assistant,’ but he’s really good at web design. He handles Rika’s official site too—the design changes every month, and that’s all him. Not just that, but he also comes up with original ideas. He gave me detailed advice when I asked for his opinion on my work project. I thought he was really nice and comfortable to be around.”

“I see. What about Hashimoto, the editor?”

“I met him when I was hanging out at Rika’s workplace. Rika’s always had a crush on him, so I did want to see what kind of guy he was,” Suzuka said with a suggestive look in her eyes.

Rika had a crush on Hashimoto? I was taken aback.

Meanwhile, Holmes simply said, “Ah, I thought so.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Suzuka pouted, seemingly disappointed at his lack of surprise.

“Yes. When Kana said that they’d been arguing in private, I thought it might’ve been because of Hashimoto’s marriage. I imagine that’s why he’s no longer her editor too.”

“Yep. It’s not his fault, though. They weren’t dating or anything—Rika had a one-sided crush and flipped out when he got married. She wasn’t accustomed to the ways of men at all,” Suzuka said with a sigh, placing her hand on her cheek.

Holmes didn’t respond to that and continued his questioning instead. “Why did you go to Rika’s workplace on the day of the incident?”

“It was because of the thing with Hashimoto. Rika was really upset, so Kumi and I were worried and went over to cheer her up. She was acting super weird, though. We were still worried after we left, so we went to the hotel that sold her favorite pudding and bought some for her. When we got back to her workplace, there was this big crowd outside, and we ran over to see what was going on and that’s when we saw Rika like that...” Suzuka said sorrowfully, looking down. “After we called for an ambulance, we called Hashimoto too.” She sighed.

“Why didn’t you contact Kana at that time?”

“We knew that Rika lived with her sister, but we didn’t know her phone number. We’d never met her either.”

“Understood. Thank you for your time. Could you wait on the first floor and ask Kumi to come up next?”

“Sure. I thought being interrogated would be scarier, but since I got to talk face-to-face with a cute guy, it was pretty fun.” She stood up, giggled, and went downstairs.

Once Suzuka was gone, Holmes took out his smartphone and opened Kurisu Aigasa’s official website. He turned around and asked Kana, “In past images, there are glimpses of a brick house. Could it be that this is actually Aigasa’s work apartment?”

“Yes, the photos were framed so that it would look like a mansion, but it’s actually an apartment with a retro-modern brick design. It’s also edited so that you wouldn’t be able to tell if you saw the real building.”

“This was the work of the photographer, Kikuchi, and the web designer, Oda, then.” Holmes nodded, impressed.

We stopped our conversation at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Can we make this quick?” Kumi said upon entering the room. She frowned at Holmes and ran her hand through her hair.

“Yes, I’d like to finish this as soon as possible too,” Holmes said, standing up. “Please have a seat, Kumi Oishi.” He put his hands on the back of the armchair.

Kumi grimaced and sat down without saying a word.

“I heard you were a genius,” Holmes said.

Kumi looked up in surprise.

“That’s what Suzuka said,” he continued.

“Wait, she told you that? I’m really not. I was just above average in an average high school, that’s all. Thanks to that, I had a hard time in university,” she said bluntly, shrugging.

“You, Suzuka, and Rika seem to be quite different. How did you become friends?” He repeated what he’d already asked Suzuka. It must be on purpose.

“We were on the library committee. The three of us all liked mystery novels, and we talked about books and stuff. We’d criticize authors for being young and inexperienced.” She smiled slightly, probably from recalling fond memories.

“That’s when the three of you took up writing too, right?” Holmes asked matter-of-factly, throwing me off. Suzuka hadn’t said anything about them writing too.

Kumi flinched and sighed lightly. “Suzuka told you about that?” She was probably mentally scolding her for blabbing too much. But Suzuka didn’t actually say it—this is Holmes’s trap.

“It was Rika who wrote,” she continued. “On days when she was off duty, she’d be sneakily writing something in the corner of the library. Suzuka and I wondered if it was a love letter, and when we peeked, it turned out to be a story. We nagged her to show us, and she was really embarrassed, but in the end, she couldn’t win against Suzuka’s pushiness. The story she showed us was seriously bad. It didn’t have a climax or a decent ending. I remember bashing it without mercy.”

“What about you and Suzuka? What did you write?”

“It wasn’t really writing... Since Rika was doing it, Suzuka said we should all give it a try, but it was hopeless. I was motivated at first since I liked coming up with tricks and stuff, but I got bored fast and didn’t make it to the end. Suzuka’s writing was terrible aside from the characters, and in the end, she couldn’t finish either... I guess I learned that finishing a story is hard, even if you suck and don’t have a climax or conclusion. In that sense, I really respect Rika,” she murmured with a faraway look, resting her chin in her hands.

From her words, I could tell that she really did learn how difficult it was to write a story and how amazing Rika was for accomplishing it.

After a moment of silence, Holmes asked quietly, “By the way, I know that you live in Osaka right now. Why did you move to Kansai? Was it because your best friends, Rika and Suzuka, were here?”

Kumi smiled self-deprecatingly. “Yeah. Some bad stuff happened in Tokyo, and it made me want to run away from my hometown like Rika did. It’s just that I was too scared to go somewhere where I didn’t know anyone at all.”

“‘Like Rika did,’ you say?”

“Yeah. You didn’t hear? Rika’s parents got divorced when she was in high school, and both of them remarried. Because of that, she didn’t belong anywhere anymore, and she also got bullied by her classmates. That’s why she went to a vocational school in Kyoto—she wanted to start over in a place where no one knew her.”

“I see...” Holmes murmured. He looked at Kana as if to ask, “Is that true?”

Kana quietly nodded with a pained look. “Yes, she’s right. I didn’t belong anywhere either, so right after my sister became successful, she invited me to live with her in Kyoto. She didn’t tell our parents that she became an author, and they still don’t know.”

“They don’t?” Holmes asked, taken aback. “But Kurisu Aigasa is quite famous now, right?”

I nodded. Even I knew what she looked like, and I wasn’t even a fan. Her relatives would’ve recognized her right away.

“My sister’s Gothic Lolita fashion isn’t just a hobby—it’s a disguise to hide that she’s Rika Inoue. The flashy makeup, colored contacts, eyepatches, and cosplay make her look completely different from before. No one who knew her past self would think that was her.” Kana smiled wryly and took her phone out of her pocket. She showed us a photo of Rika with natural makeup—an ordinary smiling woman with black hair and a bit of a babyface. She didn’t leave much of an impression. Kana’s right. Her aura is completely different.

“Really?” Holmes asked. “They’re clearly the same person to me...” Apparently his expert eyes could still perceive her characteristics. He didn’t seem to understand how her friends and family would be deceived by mere Gothic Lolita fashion and flashy makeup, but he brushed it off and looked back at Kumi. “Now then, could you tell me about the day of the incident?”

“Rika was in love with her editor, Hashimoto, but he had a shotgun wedding and that made her go crazy. Suzuka and I were worried and went to go see her. We cheered her up and left, but we couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, so we decided to buy her favorite pudding from a hotel restaurant. When we went back to give it to her, there was a crowd of people outside. We ran over to see what was going on, and Rika was collapsed there with a ribbon attached to her,” Kumi explained quickly. Her testimony was the same as Suzuka’s.

Holmes had seemed intrigued while listening to Kumi’s story, placing his hand on his chin and smiling.

“What’s with that suggestive smile? Did Suzuka say something different?” Kumi sneered, crossing her arms.

“No, her testimony was the same.” Holmes grinned. “Those are all of my questions for you. Would you please ask Kikuchi to come up next?” He stood up and offered Kumi his hand.

“I can stand up by myself. I’ve had enough of friendly good-looking guys.” She got up without taking his hand and walked away with a brisk stride.

Some time after she left, Kikuchi the photographer came. He seemed bored and tired, stretching his neck and shoulders as he wordlessly sat down in the chair. The faint smell of tobacco suggested that he’d been smoking outside. He got settled in and looked cynically at Holmes. “So?” he asked, clearly displeased.

Holmes smiled gently and said sympathetically, “It’s become quite a mess, huh?”

Kikuchi scratched his head, looking a bit thrown off. “Yeah.”

“I’d like to finish this as soon as possible. How did you meet Aigasa, Kikuchi?”

“How?” Kikuchi looked up. “Aigasa did a magazine interview when she released a book, and I was the assigned photographer. She really liked my work and started asking me to take photos for her website and for herself.”

“Back when that interview was done, was she wearing her current Gothic Lolita fashion style?”

“Yeah, at first it was gonna be a normal shoot, but she cried about how she didn’t want to be published in a magazine the way she was. My assistant, Oda, calmed her down and talked to her for a long time in another room. When they came out, she said, ‘I want to make the author ‘Kurisu Aigasa’ into a completely different character from my real self,’ and well, that’s how she got her current look. It ended up making a big impact too, and she gained a lot of fans. It must’ve helped that it matched the content of her books.”

“I see. Since you knew her real self, she felt comfortable requesting you for more work.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you also associate with her in a personal, non-business manner? For example, going to restaurants together?”

“Nah, I’ve eaten and drank with her, but it was always for work, like after a photo shoot. Aigasa liked Oda, so she wanted to eat with us. Seems like she was pretty shocked when he started going out with her friend, Suzuka,” he scoffed.

“Huh?” I furrowed my brow. She liked Oda, the assistant? But Suzuka and Kumi said that she liked her editor, Hashimoto...

“Her picture on her official site seems to change every month,” Holmes continued. “Do you take all of those photos?”

“Yeah, her fans seem to look forward to the new pictures, so she puts a lot of effort into them.”

“I was looking at her past photos earlier, and they’re rather extreme, right? There was one where she was in a bloody bathtub, and others that implied she was cutting her wrists.”

“Yeah, she’s putting on that ‘yandere’ character. Causing a ruckus is part of the plan, apparently. She knows what she’s doing. Well, she’s pretty yandere herself. She’s happy as long as she gets a reaction, even if it’s an angry mob.”

“Was it her idea?”

“Uh huh. She worked with Oda every time to make the pictures relate to her new books.”

“Is that what you were talking to her on the phone about before the incident? A photo shoot?”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason I ever call her.”

“What was the second call about?”

“Like I said, after I hung up, I realized I forgot to ask her for the specific time, so I called back to ask.” Kikuchi clicked his tongue, annoyed.

“I understand. Thank you very much. Could you call Oda next?”

“Yeah.” Disgruntled, he stood up and yelled, “Oda, you’re next!” as he went downstairs.

I tilted my head as I mulled over what Kikuchi said. What does this mean? Who did Rika have a crush on? If Kikuchi was right and it was Oda, then it would’ve been a shock to see him start dating her best friend. But since it was only a crush, she wouldn’t be able to say anything, and she wouldn’t want her best friend to know that she liked him. Did she lie to her best friends because of that? She said she liked her editor, even though she really liked Oda? And then Suzuka and Kumi believed her. That seems really likely. If Rika didn’t have a crush on her editor, then that raises questions about Suzuka and Kumi’s testimony...

As I was thinking, Oda timidly entered the room and said, “H-Hello.” He seemed to be nervous, sweating even though it wasn’t hot.

“Sorry for taking up your time,” Holmes said, quickly standing up. “Please take a seat.” He smiled warmly and pointed at the chair.

“O-Okay.” Oda awkwardly sat down, his eyes darting around restlessly.

“I’d like to ask about Aigasa’s photo shoots,” Holmes said.

Oda immediately looked up at him. “H-Her shoots?”

“Yes.” Holmes stared at Oda.

Oda gulped and asked in a strained voice, “What about them?”

Holmes placed his hand on his chin and smiled ever so slightly. “Tell me about the day you first worked with her.”

“O-Oh, that day?” Oda took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the sweat on his forehead.

“I heard that Aigasa cried and said that she didn’t want to be published in a magazine the way she was. Then you calmed her down and had a long talk with her in another room...”

“Yes. That brings back memories.” Oda seemed to relax after hearing that.

“What did you talk about in the other room?”

“Uhh, Aigasa was panicking, so I talked about anime to calm her down. Oh yeah, since she had an anime character keychain, I said, ‘I like that anime too.’”

Holmes nodded silently, prompting Oda to continue.

“She gradually opened up more from there. Then I suggested, ‘What if you make up a fictional character too? Something so crazy that no one will know it’s you.’ We discussed what kind of character it should be, and since I can draw, I drew suggestions in my notebook, and we came up with her current style by combining her tastes with her writing style.”

“From what I can tell, the photos published in that interview astonished the world.”

“Yes, I was glad too.” Oda gave a childlike, carefree smile.

“Right now, you’re dating Aigasa’s friend, Suzuka, if I’m not mistaken.”

Oda blushed at the change of subject. “Yes, I am. I fell in love with her at first sight. She’s brilliant.”

“I see. Did you enthusiastically pursue her?”

“No, I couldn’t, because I didn’t think she’d go out with someone like me. But then she said, ‘Oda, you like me, right?’ At first I thought she was teasing me, but then she went to a restaurant with me...and...” He started sweating again out of embarrassment.

Like he said, Suzuka wasn’t especially beautiful, but she had a bright aura. She was the type of person who’d stand out the most in class. Rika seemed to be more of the quiet type, and Oda was probably the same. Maybe he admired people like Suzuka who stood out.

“On the day of the incident, Kikuchi was on the phone with Aigasa. Were you with him?”

“O-Oh, yes, I think I was. I don’t really remember, but I’m with him all the time, so...” Oda answered, not making eye contact.

“Kikuchi called her twice. Do you know why?”

“I think he forgot to ask her what time the photo shoot was. He was confirming it with her.”

“I see.” Holmes smiled cheerfully. “That’s all for now. Thank you very much. Could you call up the editor, Hashimoto, next?”

Relieved, Oda put his hand on his chest and said, “Okay.” He stood up and turned to leave.

“Oh, one more thing,” Holmes said, stopping him.

Oda turned around with a stiff expression. “Wh-What is it?”

“Kikuchi said that Aigasa had a crush on you. What do you think?” Holmes asked boldly.

Oda gaped. “What? Aigasa? Me? No way. I heard that she liked Hashimoto,” he said sincerely.

Holmes nodded firmly. “Understood. Thank you.”

Oda bowed, looking bewildered, and left the second floor. Once he was gone, Holmes murmured, “Did Aigasa love Oda or Hashimoto? What do you think about these conflicting opinions, Kana?”

Kana flinched at the sudden question and looked up. She said hesitantly, “I think she trusted Oda as a good partner, but the one she loved was Hashimoto.”

“Did she ever talk to you about it?”

“My sister is very shy, so she doesn’t like talking about love. Even when I ask, ‘Doesn’t anyone catch your eye?’ she blushes and tells me to stop.”

“I see.”

Then Hashimoto, the editor, came in. “Hello,” he greeted us. He sat down across from Holmes and immediately put his hands together and bowed. “I’m sorry it ended up like this, Kiyotaka.”

“No, don’t be.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Hashimoto murmured with a sigh.

“Hashimoto, were you assigned to Aigasa ever since her debut?” Holmes asked, immediately getting to the topic at hand.

Hashimoto pulled himself together and adjusted his sitting position. “Yes.”

“Was it the editorial department’s decision?”

“No, in our light novel department’s contests, the editors have a large say in the judging process. We cast votes on the authors we want to work with, and if you really want to be their editor, then you can. It’s because of the belief that a story needs an editor who truly sees merit in it in order to produce a good product.”

“I see. So it directly affects your standing if the author becomes popular, right?” Holmes asked, immediately guessing the true state of affairs.

Hashimoto nodded hesitantly.

“Why were you removed as Aigasa’s editor?”

“Well,” Hashimoto began. “Wait, no.” He scratched his head. “You’re Ijuin’s son, so I can’t lie—you’d find out right away by asking him. Apparently she didn’t like my sudden marriage. She got pretty hysterical, and it became a company-wide problem. There wasn’t any way to fix our relationship.”

“She was in love with you?”

“Seems so. Personally, I thought she liked Oda. She went into a similar frenzy when Oda started dating her friend, Suzuka. She said she couldn’t write, and it was hard to calm her down.”

“As I thought.” Holmes nodded. “Aigasa was originally in love with Oda, and her heart was broken when he started dating Suzuka. However, since you tried so hard to console her in her time of despair, her feelings of love shifted to you.” He looked straight into Hashimoto’s eyes.

Hashimoto shrugged weakly.

“You realized how she felt, right?”

“Vaguely, I guess. I pretended not to notice, though.”

“I would’ve done the same in your situation,” Holmes said quietly.

Hashimoto looked relieved.

“So, since your relationship with the light novel department’s biggest earner was destroyed, you transferred to the historical novel department and became my father’s editor.”

“Yeah. I’m only a secondary editor, though. Ijuin’s main editor is the editor-in-chief of the historical novel department. Since the chief’s busy, I run errands for him.”

“Oh, I see. In that case, was the previous editor who often visited my father also a secondary editor?”

“Yeah, he switched with me, and now he’s in the light novel department.” Hashimoto grinned, but I could tell that it wasn’t genuine.

“You were a candidate for the next editor-in-chief of the light novel department, right? What a shame,” Holmes said sympathetically.

Hashimoto nodded and then looked up in surprise. “Wait, but that doesn’t mean I’m the culprit. I was at work when it happened in the first place. Even if she jumped because I got married, that doesn’t make me a suspect, right?” he said, flustered.

“Of course it doesn’t.” Holmes nodded firmly. “It must’ve been problematic though, I’m sure.”

“Yes, she went out of control. I had no idea what to do.”

“You asked Suzuka and Kumi for help, right?” Holmes asked smoothly.

Hashimoto’s eyes widened as if he’d been caught off guard. “H-How did you...?”

“You yourself said, ‘Since they’re her best friends, they’ve helped me out before too.’ This is the only situation I can imagine where you’d ask an author’s friends for help.”

“O-Oh, I did say that. Yeah, I did exchange business cards with them before at the office, so I asked them for advice. I thought they’d help me make amends with Aigasa, but it wasn’t possible.”

“I see. That’s all I had to ask you. Could you call Komatsu up next? He’s the last person.”

Right after Holmes said that, Suzuka came running up the stairs. “We’ve got a problem! Komatsu said, ‘I’m not sticking around any longer’ and left!” She pointed at the window.

I looked outside and saw Komatsu quickly walking away from the cafe. “H-He really is leaving!”

Holmes swiftly ran downstairs to chase him.

“Wh-Whoa, he’s fast!” I exclaimed, hurriedly running after Holmes. When I arrived outside, Komatsu was straddling his motorcycle and Holmes was grabbing Komatsu by the wrist.

“Let go or you’ll get hurt.” Komatsu tried to shake off Holmes’s hand while sandwiching his helmet under his right arm.

“I only have one question for you,” Holmes said. “You can leave if you answer this one question.”

“What? Look, I’m not gonna tell you what Kurisu Aigasa asked me to do.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, either. But please look at me.” Holmes stared intently at Komatsu.

Komatsu clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked Holmes in the eye.

“You did two jobs for Aigasa, and both of them involved the people here today, right?” Holmes asked in a confident tone.

Komatsu said nothing. His expression didn’t change either.

“And the jobs were all background checks, right?” Holmes continued.

Komatsu flinched.

“Three targets in total. The first job had two, and the second job had one.” Holmes smirked.

Komatsu’s eyes widened. “Y-You really can read minds,” he squeaked, shoving Holmes’s arm away with all his might, starting the engine, and zooming away from the Yoshida-Sanso Inn.

I smiled wryly as I watched him speed off, thinking, Komatsu, that’s the same as admitting the truth.

Kana gasped and ran up to us. “Y-Yagashira, did you let him get away?”

“R-Right, was it okay to let him go?” I asked, coming back to my senses and tugging on Holmes’s sleeve.

“It’s fine. I asked what I wanted to. Now then...” Holmes turned around and surveyed everyone who’d followed us outside with a stern gaze. “I’ve completed my questioning. Could I have everyone gather on the second floor again, please?”

6

We returned to Shinkokan’s second floor. Holmes stood in front of the window on the opposite wall, looking at everyone. Kana, Suzuka, Kumi, Hashimoto, Oda, Kikuchi, and I all stood as well, staring at him wordlessly. Tension ran in the air. The silence probably didn’t last long, but it felt like an eternity regardless.

Kikuchi, who couldn’t take the suspense anymore, opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Holmes. “Now then, I’d like to present my opinion,” he said quietly, leaning slightly on the window frame.

Everyone gulped. Kana stepped forward and asked, “D-Did you figure out the truth?”

Holmes smiled wryly and shrugged. “Did I? What I have is ultimately only a theory based on my own conjecture, and unfortunately, even if the theory is true, I have no proof. If the police were to formally investigate this as an attempted murder, they might acquire more evidence and testimony than I did.”

“That’s fine. Can you tell me your answer?” Kana had a firm look in her eyes.

“Very well. Now then, first I’d like to confirm with you, Kana—what was written in Aigasa’s suicide note?” He looked her in the eye.

Kana flinched.

“Did Aigasa avoid telling the police it was an attempted murder because she didn’t want the content of that note to be made public?” Holmes continued.

Kana looked away for a bit before giving in and smiling weakly.

“It was a confession, right?” Holmes pressed. “That’s why you believed for some time that your sister truly tried to commit suicide.”

A confession? Bewildered, I looked at Kana. She sighed loudly and nodded. “Yes, it was.”

“Please tell me what it said,” Holmes urged.

Kana hesitated before saying ruefully, “It said, ‘I, Kurisu Aigasa, have been deceiving my readers this entire time. None of the stories I composed were written by myself.’” She gritted her teeth.

What does that mean? Did Kurisu Aigasa have a ghostwriter?

“What do you think about this note, Kana?” Holmes asked.

“I-It’s a lie! I’ve been watching my sister work hard on her writing this whole time!”

“In that case, why didn’t she want this note to be made public? Wouldn’t it be because it includes some essence of truth?” Holmes continued relentlessly.

Kana clammed up, teary-eyed.

“However, it’s not the complete truth, right? It was probably half-true—or perhaps it’d be more accurate to say two thirds.”

“Two thirds?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Yes. Kurisu Aigasa was the combined pen name of three high school girls who admired the esteemed mystery authoress Agatha Christie—Rika Inoue, Suzuka Ijima, and Kumi Oishi, right?” he declared sharply.

Everyone’s eyes widened.

“When I read Kurisu Aigasa’s writing, though the style was completely different, I could sense that it was a homage to Agatha Christie, the English literary master. That made me think that the alias ‘Kurisu Aigasa’ was also derived from her.

“Then it turned out that Aigasa’s real name was Rika Inoue, and her high school friends were Suzuka Ijima and Kumi Oishi. ‘Agatha’ in Japanese phonetics is ‘Agasa,’ and the extra ‘i’ happens to be the common letter in all of their surnames—Inoue, Ijima, and Oishi. ‘Kurisu,’ which corresponds to ‘Chris,’ contains the first syllable of each of their first names. Thus, I suspected that ‘Kurisu Aigasa’ was a pen name that the three of them came up with together.”

“D-Does that mean that Kurisu Aigasa was three people?” I asked.

“Originally, yes.”

Holmes looked at Suzuka and Kumi. The two of them were pale, as if they’d been struck by ice magic. Judging from their faces, Holmes was probably right.

“Please listen to my hypothesis based on this information,” Holmes began in a calm tone, as if he was about to start a reading of his own. “Back in high school, the three of them were on the library committee together. Suzuka and Kumi accidentally discovered that Rika was writing a story, and they decided to take up writing too. However, all three of them were lacking things in their stories. Rika could write prose, but her story was boring, with no climax or conclusion. Suzuka wasn’t a good writer, but her characters were charming. Kumi didn’t like writing prose, but she was good at coming up with tricks. I imagine they would’ve tried joining forces upon realizing that.” Holmes glanced at Suzuka and Kumi for confirmation.

The two stiffened but didn’t object. He must’ve been right.

With newly gained confidence, Holmes continued, “Rika likely did the bulk of the writing, while Suzuka designed the characters and Kumi created the tricks. They combined their strengths and produced an excellent story. In their excitement, they came up with the pen name ‘Kurisu Aigasa’ and possibly continued to write several more works. Those were the happy days of their youth.”

His description had me imagining the three in the library after school during the sunset, getting excited over what Rika wrote—it definitely would’ve been a priceless time of their life.

“Their writing activities ended upon graduation. Suzuka and Kumi were never particularly fond of writing to begin with, so they turned to unrelated fields. Rika alone continued to write.”

Suzuka and Kumi were nodding slightly, probably unconsciously.

“In their second year of university, when Suzuka and Kumi had all but forgotten about their high school literature activities, Rika came back to Tokyo and invited them out. It must’ve been a fun reunion for them, right?

“But then, Rika probably asked them something along the lines of, ‘Do you mind if I tweak what we wrote in high school and submit it to this contest?’ She’d come all the way from Kansai just to ask permission, because she wanted to pursue her dream. On the other hand, Suzuka and Kumi were satisfied with their university life and had no interest whatsoever in becoming authors. They easily assented, assuming there was no way their story would win in the first place. Relieved, Rika submitted it under the name Kurisu Aigasa, out of respect for the other two.

“Then that story was selected as an honorable mention, earning her a hundred thousand yen. She tried to return it to her partners, who celebrated the victory with open minds. I’m sure it was a beautiful scene. However, none of them thought that it would lead to such amazing success.” Holmes smirked.

Suzuka and Kumi had pained expressions on their faces.

“Kurisu Aigasa grew in popularity until she became a bestselling author, known far and wide. I imagine that’s when their friendship became strained. That said, Suzuka and Kumi were simply happy that everyone liked the characters and tricks they’d created. I believe Rika would’ve been thankful at first too. However, as Rika became more financially well off, the others may have innocently said, ‘Treat us from time to time,’ or ‘Buy that for me.’ Suzuka found a job in Kansai because she thought Rika was handy to have around. Before long, Kumi moved to Kansai too. Now they could ask Rika for things more easily.

“From Rika’s perspective, it may have felt like she was being threatened. She gave them everything they wanted, while wondering, ‘Will I have to be their slave for the rest of my life?’ It must’ve been painful because she did feel guilty for her success. I suspect that her pent-up stress exploded when the target of her affections, Oda, began dating Suzuka.”

Oda blinked in surprise, and Suzuka looked down awkwardly.

“Rika couldn’t take it anymore. She thought, ‘I don’t want to be their servant anymore. I’ll find their weaknesses too,’ and hired a detective—Komatsu. Rika had him find Suzuka and Kumi’s weaknesses, and learned of their dark pasts. I don’t know what they entailed, but perhaps Suzuka’s youthful indiscretion led to making a mistake in university, and Kumi did something that resulted in having to quit her bank job and even leave her hometown.”

Suzuka and Kumi trembled.

“Yeah, it was youthful indiscretion,” Kumi murmured, looking down.

Suzuka turned to her, surprised, with an expression that implied, “Wait, you’re going to tell them?”

“There’s no point trying to hide it now,” Kumi continued. “She already found out from Komatsu anyway, right? A guy from a host club kind of place tricked me into embezzling money from work, and I got fired. It didn’t escalate into a criminal case, but everyone was talking about it. I couldn’t stay there anymore.

“Rika investigated my past and suddenly said to me, ‘Don’t demand anything from me ever again.’ I was like, what? I never demanded anything. What was that attitude for? Who does she think she has to thank for her success?” Kumi said, flaring up.

Suzuka nodded firmly. “Y-Yeah. She dug up a bunch of dumb things I did, like paid dating and having an affair with my boss! She said it like she was blackmailing us, and we couldn’t forgive her. B-But we never tried to kill her!” she added. It seemed like they were revealing the truth themselves for the sake of being able to deny trying to kill her.

“Your anger is understandable,” Holmes said. “Since you were innocently asking Rika for favors without ill will, it must’ve been shocking for you. However, since Rika had so much bottled-up stress, an irreparable rift formed between you.

“Now then, the brokenhearted Rika fell into despair. Because of her success, she lost her friends and the man she loved was taken from her. She felt that nothing good had come out of it. ‘I can’t write anymore; I don’t want to write; I quit,’ she whined. Hashimoto desperately consoled her, of course. She was his golden egg. It’s not easy to produce a bestselling author. Hashimoto was good at handling women by nature, so I suspect he set her up to fall in love with him. He used suggestive words and mannerisms to manipulate and win over her heart, and thus Rika made her comeback. However, he desperately covered up that he was already in a relationship with a woman. He must’ve wanted to keep up the charade at least until he became editor-in-chief.” Holmes gave Hashimoto a sidelong glance.

Hashimoto smiled stiffly.

“However, you can’t underestimate a woman’s intuition. Rika felt that something was wrong and hired Komatsu again to investigate Hashimoto. She discovered that he was dating a woman with marriage in mind and went into a frenzy again. She lashed out at Komatsu, saying, ‘I refuse to believe that!’ You can imagine how upset she was by the fact that she didn’t pay him.

“At around the same time, Hashimoto’s girlfriend got pregnant, so he married her. Rika finally exploded. She made a huge fuss over how she had been deceived, getting the editorial department involved too. Exhausted, Hashimoto asked Suzuka and Kumi for help, assuming that they were her best friends. The three of them met up, and I believe that Suzuka and Kumi told him, ‘Kurisu Aigasa isn’t one person.’”

I inadvertently looked at Hashimoto, Suzuka, and Kumi. They all stood stock-still, dumbfounded, faces ghastly pale, mouths slightly agape. Oddly enough, people always have the same reaction when everything about them is revealed.

“Hashimoto was shocked to learn that Kurisu Aigasa’s elaborately crafted tricks and charming characters weren’t Rika’s creation,” Holmes continued. “That may be when he came up with his evil idea.”

“Evil idea?” I looked at Holmes, bewildered.

“Yes, a terrifying idea that went, ‘If Kurisu Aigasa commits suicide and confesses the truth, and her ghostwriters reveal themselves to the world afterwards, they’re bound to draw a ridiculous amount of attention.’ Now, no matter how cruel the thought, it’s not an issue as long as you don’t say it out loud. However, since he did say it out loud, the evil idea became an actual scheme. Their horrifying plot was to kill Kurisu Aigasa and make it look like a suicide, then bring out her ghostwriters—in other words, create a new Kurisu Aigasa after generating a huge buzz.” Holmes glared coldly at them, and I felt the room temperature suddenly drop.

Oda was the only one looking down and shaking while everyone else stood still.

“Oda is an honest man who cannot lie, I see. As for how they were going to frame Rika’s murder as a suicide... It would appear that Oda, the man of ideas, contributed greatly. Suzuka likely tricked him into coming up with the plan, which was to use the photos taken monthly for Aigasa’s official website. He must’ve suggested, ‘This month, let’s make it look like a hanging.’ The day of the incident was a full moon—so that they could have the moon in the background of the photo.

“That day, Suzuka and Kumi visited Rika’s work apartment, perhaps under the guise of reconciliation. They brazenly helped prepare the set, secretly placing the suicide note while they were at it. After the preparations were finished, they pretended to leave, but one of them stayed at the apartment, perhaps hiding somewhere so that Rika wouldn’t notice.

“Meanwhile, Kikuchi and Oda were on standby outside with the camera. Kikuchi most likely knew nothing. He called Rika to say, ‘The camera’s ready, so come out to the balcony,’ and hung up, not having any reason to think that something was amiss. When he saw her standing on the balcony with the ribbon around her neck, he called her again and said, ‘Stand on the railing.’ Rika obeyed his instructions and stood on top of the railing in her black dress and red shoes, with the red ribbon around her neck... That’s when the person who was hiding—I suspect it’d be Suzuka, but it doesn’t matter who—sprang out and pushed Rika, sending her falling to the ground. That’s when Kikuchi finally sensed that something was wrong. He covered up the photo shoot entirely because he didn’t want to get involved, and he wanted to protect Oda too.”

No one said anything in response. The room fell silent.

“In other words, Suzuka, Kumi, Hashimoto, Oda, and Kikuchi—everyone was an accomplice, whether directly or indirectly. A very ‘Agatha Christie’ plot indeed. However, as I said at the beginning, I have no proof. It’s ultimately only my conjecture. If Rika remembers anything from that day, then I’m sure the story will change yet again.” Holmes smiled cynically, turned to Kana, and asked, “Is that enough for you, Rika?”

“Huh?” Everyone’s eyes widened when he called Kana “Rika.”

“There’s a camera inside that large red gem necklace of yours, right? Has Rika been watching us from somewhere nearby?”

Everyone looked around at each other, confused. Suddenly, we heard the sound of slow footsteps coming up the stairs. The steady steps stopped when she appeared on the second floor. Everyone froze at the same time.

She was wearing a jet-black frilly dress and a black hat with a lace veil—the kind that a woman would wear to a funeral. Her feet were clad in bright red shoes, and there was a bright red ribbon around her neck. In addition to her eccentric outfit, she also wore matching crimson contacts that, at first glance, made it look like there was blood coming from her eyes. I felt chills run down my spine.

Rika—dressed in the style of Kurisu Aigasa—scanned her audience, smiled like an innocent little girl, and said, “How do you do, everyone?”

7

This time, I could tell that everyone else felt the chills too. No one uttered a word.

Rika looked at Holmes and smiled gently. “Good evening, Holmes of Kyoto. You lived up to your reputation with that wonderful deductive reasoning. I hadn’t expected you to discover so much.”

“I’m glad I met your expectations. While you’re here, I have one more question,” Holmes said, holding up his index finger.

Everyone held their breath, wondering what he was going to say next.

“Your memory loss was a lie, right?” he asked, looking her straight in the eye.

Rika gave a very light shrug and said, “Yes, it was. I remember that the moment I climbed onto the railing, Suzuka suddenly appeared and pushed me off.”

“Huh?” Kana’s eyes widened. “Wh-Why did you set all of this up, then?”

“I knew that Suzuka was angry with me, but I didn’t think it was to the point of murder. Also, Suzuka acts based on advantage and disadvantage. What benefit would there be in killing me? I wondered this for a long time, until the day that Ijuin came to visit me. We weren’t acquainted, so I was very surprised, but apparently it was because Hashimoto is now assigned to him.”

Holmes’s eyebrow twitched.

“He was very kind and accepting, and as I was speaking with him, before I knew it, I was crying and pouring out my deepest thoughts. Then he said, ‘My son may be able to solve that bizarre case of yours.’”

Now that was unexpected. Apparently Holmes’s grandfather wasn’t the only one spreading rumors.

Holmes placed his hand on his forehead, not saying anything. If this was Kura, I’m sure he’d have his head on the counter right now.

Rika continued, “I wanted to know the full truth, so I enlisted Ijuin’s help in requesting your services in this way. It was his idea to hold the gathering here, at Yoshida-Sanso. I sincerely apologize for the displeasure it caused you. And thank you very much.” She bowed deeply.

“No, it’s fine. It was my father’s fault—er, I mean, it was my father’s suggestion,” Holmes said, holding up his hand. His mouth was in the shape of a smile, but his eyes weren’t smiling. Run, Manager!

“Now then, Rika, what do you plan to do now that you know the truth?” Holmes asked, having regained his composure.

Everyone tensed up.

“Let’s see,” Rika said with a laugh. She took a handgun out of her pocket and pointed it at us.

“Aoi!”

Before I could even react, my vision went dark. Holmes had moved in front of me to protect me. His broad back shielded me completely, and I gasped, touched by how he’d immediately sprang forward. I peeked at Rika from behind him. Her gun was pointed at Hashimoto.

“C-Calm down, Rika,” said Hashimoto. “That’s not a real gun anyway, right?”

“Shall we find out? Your manipulation cost me two friendships. In my despair, I considered suicide and thought that a gun would be the right tool for the job. It’d be a quick death, and bright red blood on a black gun would make for a beautiful sight, no? I’d never want an ugly death like hanging. I’ll paint all of you in a beautiful color, and then I shall go too,” Rika said, smiling eerily.

Suzuka screamed.

“Now then, Hashimoto,” Rika continued. “If you lie, I’ll shoot. Tell me—you were the mastermind behind this plot, yes?” she asked coldly, still pointing the gun at Hashimoto.

“Y-Yeah, it was me! I thought I could make big news and produce the bestselling author of the century at the same time. I thought I’d be able to make a news story that the world would still remember after my death! I-I was possessed! But it wasn’t actually me who did it—the one who pushed you was that woman!” Hashimoto pointed at Suzuka, his eyes wide in desperation.

“Y-You can’t just push the blame on me!” Suzuka retorted. “I just did what you told me to! Rika, I’m sorry. It was a sudden impulse—actually, Hashimoto tricked me too. Please forgive me. I’m really glad that you’re still alive.”

“What do you mean, I tricked you?!” Hashimoto whined.

Rika snorted. “I really could not care less either way. You would kill someone over that? Hey, Suzuka. You won’t be satisfied until you’ve taken everything from me, right? You didn’t care about Oda at first, but when you found out that I liked him, you suddenly took interest in him. You love what belongs to others, and you even slept with Hashimoto, right? Answer me honestly, or I’ll shoot you first.” She pointed the gun at Suzuka.

“Eeek!” Suzuka crouched on the ground. “Y-Yeah, you’re right. I was interested in Maa because you liked him. And I slept with Hashimoto too. But why do you care? You already have everything! My looks, smarts, personality, and talents are all average, so I know I’m never gonna make it big. That’s why I was jealous of your success! You had everything, and taking what you wanted made me feel like the winner. I’m really sorry!” She placed her hands on the ground and wailed.

Next to her, Kumi stepped forward and said, “I-I’m not going to apologize. Sure, I asked you for things too, but if you didn’t like that, you should’ve said something. Instead, you hired a detective and dug up my dirty past to blackmail me? I’m not going to forgive you. I wanted to kill you. So if you’re going to kill me, then do it. It’s not like I’ve never considered death either.” Unlike Suzuka, she spoke defiantly—but she probably doesn’t really feel that way. If she truly wanted to kill Rika, then it would’ve been her that did it, not Suzuka. Despite that, her pride won’t let her admit the truth.

Rika simply shrugged and smiled. She probably had a good understanding of Kumi’s personality.

Then Oda jumped forward and prostrated himself in front of Rika, his forehead nearly touching the ground. “I-I’m sorry, Aigasa,” he began.

Rika grimaced.

“I-I really didn’t realize how you felt. Since we worked together, I assumed that even thinking about you as a romantic interest would be taboo. Th-Then I met Suzuka through you, and I was so captivated by her that I couldn’t make calm decisions anymore. Even though it was all a lie... I was an idiot. The whole plan came about from my idea, so i-it’s my fault. I’ll take responsibility for everything, so please, forgive the others. Most of all, you’ve already suffered enough. You don’t need to dirty your own hands,” Oda pleaded in tears. Since he’s so good-natured, the guilt must’ve been tormenting him this whole time. Then he sprung to his feet, grabbed the gun out of Rika’s hand, and pointed it at the side of his head.

Everyone gasped, and before we could remember to breathe again, Oda pulled the trigger without hesitation. However, it made no sound. A thin stream of blood ran down his head.

“Eeek!”

Amidst our screams, Oda simply stood there dumbfounded. He lowered the gun and tilted his head. “H-Huh? My head feels cold, but it doesn’t hurt at all...” he murmured. The side of his head was a shocking deep red.

Holmes slumped his shoulders with a feeble smile. “Oda, that’s a realistic-looking toy. It had red liquid inside. I could tell at first glance that it wasn’t real, but modern toys can still be quite powerful, so I was carefully monitoring the situation.”

I nodded firmly in understanding after hearing that. That’s why he only stood in front of me—he knew it was a toy. If it were real, he would’ve instinctively run to take it away from her.

Rika stood still for a while, stunned by Oda’s unexpected actions. Then her face twisted into a smile. “Correct, it’s a toy. I simply wanted to hear everyone’s true feelings. Everything said here is being recorded. I’ll take my time deciding whether to report you lot to the police, so please remain on edge while you live your merry lives. You may leave now.” She plucked the toy gun from Oda’s hand, grinned, and pointed at the exit.

All of the conspirators hurriedly escaped down the stairs, faces still pale. Before long, the only ones remaining on the second floor were me and Holmes, Kana, and Rika.

8

It was quiet again in the cafe. The sweet scent of the chocolate on the tables wafted through the air.

Rika was gazing vacantly out the window with a sad expression. Forcing them to live in fear, not knowing when they’d be arrested, was a fitting form of revenge for her, but she still couldn’t be happy.

“Why was I spared?” she murmured. “If I died that day, I wouldn’t have to suffer these feelings.” She touched the window frame. Her sorrowful face made my chest ache. Her former best friends and the two men she fell in love with conspired to kill her. I couldn’t imagine how deep her emotional wounds must be.

“‘I lived when I should’ve died; something prevented me from dying; there is work I must do,’” Holmes murmured.

Rika, Kana, and I turned to him, confused.

“It’s a quote from Naoya Shiga’s At Kinosaki,” he explained. “Aigasa, ‘something’ prevented you from dying. There is work you must do.”

Rika’s eyes widened.

“You’ve been through a horrible experience, and it’s up to you whether to let it remain horrible or transform it into gold. As a fan, I hope you’ll show us your alchemy,” Holmes said with a smile.

Rika cast her eyes down with a bitter look on her face. “A fan...? But the characters and the tricks aren’t mine.”

“No matter how charming the characters are or how brilliant the elaborate tricks are, they cannot exist without the prose and composition that make them readable. I felt that your prose was beautiful, and I was impressed by your compositional skill.”

“Kiyotaka...”

“My father often says, ‘For a creator, every experience becomes inspiration.’ You must’ve become a new person after this unique experience, right?” He spoke as if challenging her, but with a smile on his face.

Rika fell silent for some time. Then her expression relaxed and she said, “Yes, those words have resonated with me. I shall take this vile experience I’ve gained and transform it into gold for you to see. I shall become a true witch and show you my alchemy.” Rika—no, the author Kurisu Aigasa smiled confidently and placed her hand on her chest. A creator will take every experience, even horrifying incidents, and use them as ingredients for their alchemy.

“Aigasa, although it was my father’s suggestion, I’m glad you chose Shinkokan for tonight’s stage.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a beautiful, fitting location for saying farewell to the past, absorbing it, and being born anew.”

Aigasa teared up, gripped the hem of her skirt, and bowed gracefully. Moved, we bowed back.

Afterwards, Kurisu Aigasa presented to the world a book that told this tale in great detail, to the point where you couldn’t tell if it was fiction or nonfiction. It became a big hit, and from there, she continued to release incredible works as if something had bloomed within her—but that’s a story for a little later.

As for Holmes’s reputation...apparently you can’t control what people say. Contrary to his hopes, his credibility only grew, and the rumors became even more exaggerated—but again, that’s a story for later.