AN: I suppose this is a return after many years of silence. Stopping with the melodrama, this is a new chapter story I'm starting. I will only comment that this was inspired by energetic mystery stories aimed to children and that I don't own Okami.

Enjoy!

Never had there been a worst day in the entire history of the museum. Doors locked even to employees, windows curtained off, and woe to any tourist asking the "friendly" help desk. What once thrived with activity, now sits, an empty husk of its former self. The only movement came from the ancient security guard who could scarcely comprehend what had happened the night before. The legendary sword, Tsukuyomi, was stolen! Even worst, the culprit had disappeared without a trace.

This had to be a joke on him, Waka thought as he resisted the urge to once again adjust his hat. Going incognito seemed a simple idea at first until he consulted the spy department for advice. Seeing as there were a distressing low amount of long haired, blonde men in Nippon, they elected to get him a hat. When he pointed out he had a hat, they deemed it "too noticeable" and eagerly went in search for the perfect hat. After half an hour of discussion (really, he should have been suspicious then) they had popped out with the largest cowboy hat he had ever seen. His day had gone down hill from there.

Now he was walking to the crime scene. Or at least that's what he pretended. Let it be known that Waka was the first man to trip because he wasn't wearing high he was also the first to have that happen, he was also the first to deny that he tripped for that exact reason. He did an elegant back-flip because he felt like it. He landed on his back because... he felt like it.

When he finally made it to the museum (with only the minimal amount of hobbling!), he paused and looked around. No one. Good, that gave him some time to think.

His cover was good, if a bit unnecessary. Although now that he actually got to see the museum in person, perhaps it was. These people acted like they thought the disappearance of the sword was a loss of valuable history and nothing more. That would have changed if they learned the head of the national police was on the case and was thinking of activating one of the greatest detectives of all time.

Ammy. Amaterasu. Ma cheré. Whatever you called her, she was one of the greatest minds in the entirety of Nippon. If he remember correctly, she still lived nearby the museum, checked regularly by Sakuya for any relapses. Ammy's last battle had cost her greatly and there were still fears that her body might give up on her. Waka wasn't worried. He knew that she would much weaker than she was before, but she was the one of most determined individuals that Waka could trust and that alone would get her much farther than anyone else would. Yes, he would have few regrets on sending her out to the field.

When he saw that the officers on duty noticed him, Waka made an act of trying to smooth out his papers, looking like the ignorant bureaucrat he was supposed to be. The police scrutinized his papers, asked a couple questions, then let Waka past, eyes still watching him as he headed to the museum. He was about to enter until he heard a distant buzz. Frowning, he looked around, noticing it was getting closer. To his irritation he recognized the buzz, and waited for the new officer.

"Oi, Waka!"

Today was not his day. Straightening out his jacket, he whipped out his instrument from his pocket and was about to coax out a gentle melody from its silent valves, until he realized it was a harmonica. Apparently the foreign part of his outfit extended not only to his hat but also to his instrument of choice.

Sighing, he instead began to twirl it in his hand, noting that even in the art of twirling, the harmonica was mediocre compared to the flute. The officer watched this all in amusement.

"Hey, Waka, where's the flute? Taken in for work?"

"Indeed."

"Hah, you won't be able to-"

"Sorry, my friend, but I must leave. Circumstances force me to adopt this disguise, circumstances that you should know well."

"Ah... That bad?" Waka cursed. The more time he spent here, the more suspicious the officer would get. He would just have to act natural.

"Yes... By the way, how did you figure out it was me?"

"There's almost no one shorter in the city!" With a jaunty wave, the officer left. Waka stared down at his feet.

"I wish I had my normal shoes."

How disappointing. Waka gave a final scan to the scene of the crime before turning and walking off. It was exactly as reported, with no clues, no video evidence, or anything remotely suspicious to point out a suspect. Such precision made him suspect that it was an inside job, but the only one with enough information to complete the heist would be old Mika, and most reported him as being senile. In short, he didn't have a clue.

Waka began to travel back to HQ, saving time by trespassing through several properties. After all, it was legal when the head of a federal military force did it. When he finally reached his destination, the roof of HQ , he took out a phone and texted a brief message to the local head of the police. Then he walked towards the entrance inside, already planning how to phrase his report to the queen.

Ammy. He had just sent the official order to reactivate her to duty. He should have no regrets. He shouldn't care. He knew that the only way to win this was for her to be active. He was close to psychic in his predictions for the future, and he knew this feeling of his was right. It didn't stop regret fro-

"Half-baked! What's with these orders?"

Ah. The copycat artist.

"My little friend, it seems that your face is redder than usual. Perhaps calming down would be beneficial to your health."

"Bah, I'm not the one with the reputation for being short! And what kind of hare brained, idiotic-"

"You may not have the reputation, but you are the shorter of the two of us, my little friend." He helpfully lowered his hand to the other's height to show the difference.

The short comment annoyed him, but his main focus was on Ammy. In other words, Waka's grand attempt to change the conversation failed."Stop avoiding the question Waka! You should know better than to activate Ammy on a whim!"

"But it's not a whim. I thought even someone such as yourself would have heard the news by now."

"I'm not ignorant! I even know more than you because I know that Ammy's not ready for this!"

That was a sore point for Waka, even though he didn't let any of emotions show through in his voice or face.

"I've known ma cheré longer than most people have thought possible. It's not for you to lecture me on what she can or can't do."

"This is still one of your half baked ideas!"

Waka shrugged. "Whether it is or not, it's still your orders and I expect you to follow them. Your own affairs shouldn't play a part in this."

"Fine. I'll follow them, you twit. And my name is Issun," he gritted his teeth, yanking his green helmet down over his eyes.

"Very well, my friend with the overly large helmet," Waka said, and he turned to leave. A last second thought, he turned around and beamed at Issun. "One last thing for you. I can't really see the future or anything like that, but I can promise you that soon you'll make the acquaintance of a ."

"At least tell me something useful!" Issun stomped away, muttering that one day he'll show the loon some sort of sense. Brutally kicking the exit door open, he left the building, and started the long walk to Sakuya's office and Ammy's home.

Issun hadn't ever actually met Ammy. He had heard a lot about her through his grandfather, and from that he knew that Ammy was graceful, considerate, and liked a good snooze. Of all the government officials, excluding maybe Waka,(then again, considering his questionable sanity...) he felt he knew the great detective the best, and though he was against her activation, he felt it was for the best that he was the one to bring the message. After all, she might be pretty...

He shook his head clear when he saw that he was in front of Sakuya's office. Passing through the corridor of cherry trees, he stepped up to her door, and rang the doorbell. It wasn't long before the door opened, and there stood the most beautiful woman in the world.

Issun dropped to his knees in awe. This could only be the grand detective. No one else could have that aura of excellence, that wise manner around her. His dream, his imagined meetings with Amaterasu, none could compare to this one. He stared up at her with something like worship in his eyes. It didn't hurt that it was a good view.

"My lady, may I just say what an honor it is to meet you." He bowed his head for a moment, then looked back up at her. "I'm sure you and all your fine assets would be most useful for this case."

The woman extended her hand down to Issun, which he then took. With a little effort, she pulled him up to standing. "It would be my pleasure to help. May I ask what your name is?"

"It's Issun, the great and magnificent artist. Only an artist of my skill can capture the magnificence of both your shape and features."

She coughed. "That's... very pleasant." Turning serious again, she said, "I hope in our time working together, we can work to bringing this case to an end."

"Of course." He waved his hand out the door. "Let's start this case now."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not the one you're looking for."

"Oh come on. There's no need to be shy. I will protect with all my might."

"No, I'm not Amaterasu."

There was a slight pause as Issun lost all the gallantry that he had. "What!? But what's with the entire 'working together' and 'solving the case' crap!?"

"I'm Sakuya, Amaterasu's caretaker."

"But then where the hell is Ama-"

Just then a large white blob crashed into him. Soon, the creature covered Issun's face with spit.

"Dog?!"

Sakuya stood primly, a regal glint in her eyes. "No, that would be your lady Amaterasu."