CHAPTER ONE
In which Souji Seta exposes his feelings and is offered a purpose...
Souji Seta regretted not receiving the shave and a haircut that he had considered. Naoto Shirogane hadn't changed...not one bit.
There might've been some subtle new sharpness to her face...but if there was, it was so aggravatingly subtle that he couldn't tell. If she'd grown taller it would've had to have been by mere millimeters, still scraping that easily underestimated five-foot-nothing height that she sported back in the old days. Whether or not her feminine figure had also filled out was also a vexing mystery. She could've gone up three cup sizes and he'd never be able to tell thanks to her unique wardrobe. Her fashion sense was identical to before...petite young lady strolling into the establishment in high-collared, navy peacoat, some straight black slacks, and, from what Souji could tell, the exact same officer's cap as always. He couldn't help but think of how iconic that hat must be by now. If her career continued to be as successful as it had been, that humble piece of head wear would be a widely revered relic. Overall, she matched her car...'vintage'. Like a not-yet-forgotten chunk of a dying age...
Her aura of androgyny had also not dissipated even in the slightest. If he had no clue beforehand, it would've been incredibly easy to mistake her for a young man. A very pretty young man, yes, but a young man regardless.
Her mannerisms were just as he remembered them. Quick, precise, methodical. She took the time to take in everything about her surroundings as soon as she entered the café...the mark of an expert sleuth, he supposed. Leave no stone unturned, no detail is unimportant, etc.
As she approached the booth the gravity of the situation began to weigh down on him. Suddenly, he felt awkward...more so than before. In sharp contrast to her, he looked shabby and unrefined. His wardrobe was one of painful simplicity. Plain gray shirt, long-sleeved...not ironed, but clean. Blue jeans...in much the same condition as the shirt. Sneakers...cheap and practical. Souji became uncomfortably aware with the disheveled condition of his hair and the existence of peach fuzz on his chin. An elegant reminder of an age long past meeting with something plain, boring, and modern. In the very least, he clung stubbornly to the pride of having become slightly taller...a quick jump from the 5'11" stature he flaunted as a 17-year-old to a solid six and two of the adult he now was.
"Nice to see you again...'senpai'..."
He mentally cringed. It was just a sharp, jarring reminder that the person he was speaking with was actually younger than him. It was all in good humor, of course...but it stung nonetheless. He wished his reaction was different. He'd have preferred to swoon, even...to be overcome with sweet, intoxicating nostalgia regarding that forcibly deepened voice.
He forced a smile and the most meager of laughs, some half-sincere rumble that lingered inconveniently in the back of his throat. At his gesture, Naoto politely took her seat. He would've felt a lot better if she seemed less confident about the entire affair...if she had degenerated back into a trembling, blushing, lovestruck little girl that once existed. But no...she only smiled placidly, adjusting her collar as she surveyed her surroundings one last time before allowing herself to focus on the old friend seated before her.
"...Thank you very much for taking the time to visit. You're quite fortunate...I have some free time today. Sadly, that's a rare luxury for me."
"...Yeah. Got pretty lucky, I guess..."
"...Mmhmm..."
Souji's skills as a conversationalist had diminished more than he thought. Already the atmosphere had devolved into something tense and thick and uncertainty. He should've expected this, right? This was how a meeting with a high school sweetheart usually wound up. Desperately, he grasped for his coffee...taking a long, painful sip of the bitter, hot liquid. He didn't need to brainstorm for very long on a conversation subject, however. Naoto was quick enough to pick up the slack.
"...I...haven't been here yet. It's become exceedingly popular with the locals though. Have you ordered yet?"
"Hmm? Oh, no...well, yes. I...I just ordered coffee and that's it. Umm...not much of an appetite...but please, get whatever you like! My treat..."
A jovial laugh was Naoto's response, arms thoughtfully crossed as she shook her head. "...That's quite alright. I'm a big g-...I'm an adult now. If anything, I should be paying for you as well...since you've been so considerate as to drive all this way."
Cringe, cringe, cringe. Even worse, he knew she was right...at least, she was right in the sense that it would be much better if she paid. He'd already spent the majority of dwindling 'entertainment' fund in taking the long drive to this big, gilded town. She, meanwhile, seemed to have scratch to spare.
He quickly sunk back into his distant, rarely speaking self. He was like that back then, but he didn't have the rapidly growing inferiority complex to go along with it. In the very least, it shouldn't reflect poorly on him in this situation. 'Brevity is the soul of wit'...from what he remembered of Naoto, it would be an expression that she'd take to heart.
Souji suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was slumping miserably forward. Casually, he adjusted himself...straightening his spine and balancing his palms on his knees. He licked his lips dryly, bringing himself to look up from his half-empty coffee cup. Naoto wasn't looking straight at him for the moment...having backed away from the uncomfortable re-introductions while searching for a waiter. Souji spoke up.
"I'm really...really sorry about suggesting this place. I thought it'd be nice...but it doesn't seem to be that authentic or anything...and it's kinda pricey. The coffee itself was about 300 yen..."
"...300? That's remarkably cheap considering where we are. Outrageous nonetheless, but it could be worse..."
"...Menu seems really shabby too. Mostly crepes with different fillings and finger sandwiches..."
"...Croque monsieur?"
"Gesundheit."
"...Pff...hahahaha!"
Laugher. He smirked. He didn't know a simple joke like that would hit the spot. He liked her laugh. Even when she was actively trying to deepen her voice, that laugh was always just a little higher-pitched than anything else she said.
Souji smiled...a more genuine expression this time, a sudden boost in confidence allowing him to lean slightly forward. "...But...no, they don't have that. I think they're trying to sell their atmosphere more than their food."
"Hmm...a fruitless endeavor. Just from entering I could tell both that the atmosphere was poor and the food was cheaply produced."
"Hmm? How's that? I mean, I could tell once I saw the menu, but..."
"...Watch and see."
Naoto's eyes were glinting with a familiar shine of curious mischief. Calmly, she unwrapped the individual napkin that came with each seat, unveiling a single well-polished butter knife.
"Now...listen very carefully..."
Without flinching, she extended her arm over the table...relaxing her fingers and allowing the knife to fall to the ground with a sharp 'CLNG!'
The bustling, trivial chatter of the café immediately ceased. For the briefest of moments, the restaurant was silent...save for a strange dull hum that lingered in the background.
"Oops! Forgive me. My mistake, everyone." Naoto explained her actions thusly, keeping her composure as she recovered the fallen knife and neatly slid it back onto the table. "...Did you hear?"
"...Huh? No. Nothing, except for that...hum..."
"Precisely. Can't you tell what that sound was?"
"..."
Naoto's smile was one of mild disappointment, a slender hand rising to readjust her color...something she seemed to unconsciously do as she was thinking. "...Microwaves. They keep them far in the back. No restaurant with an authentic French menu would use something like that...and without the conversational racket, the customers wouldn't even have to strain their ears to hear it. As subtle as it is, it's something that can shatter the peaceful atmosphere of a high-quality restaurant. Once this café's popularity begins to waver, it'll become much more obvious to those that come here. They could try to drain the noise out with music, but it will still be noticeable to those with discerning ears."
Souji Seta stared, somewhat dumbfounded. His smile had faded...lips poised into an expression of something indiscernible as he idly swirled his coffee. "...Sharp as ever, huh?"
"I'd...like to think that I've improved over time, senpai. You, however...seem to have been neglecting your investigator's instinct. I recall you being quite 'sharp' yourself back then."
"...Yeah..."
His voice trailed off. Conveniently, a waitress approached at around the time Souji ran out of things to say. Naoto didn't feel the need to deliberate her order, already having decided. "No food, just coffee...cream and three sugars, please."
"Just like N-"
He almost said it, but he didn't. 'Just like Nanako'...that's what he wanted, right? He wanted that. Like a disgusting leech, he clung to the notion of being with an immature person. 'Cream and sugar? How childish! You haven't moved on to drinking it black yet? How silly! And here I was, jealous of just how you've become. How silly of both of us!'
"...Senpai?"
Was he that petty? Did he feel that bad about himself? He had to mentally latch on to the tiniest lapse of so-called 'maturity' to boost his own vampiric ego?
"...Senpai, is something wrong? Is it the coffee? You don't look w-"
"STOP...calling me 'senpai'."
He said that louder than he meant to. Some of the pretentious café's nosier patrons probably overheard...but at the moment, he really didn't care. Naoto, in a rare display, seemed visibly taken aback. Her cap tipped slightly aside, mouth open and voice stammering. She sunk back into her seat, a single hand nervously toying at the edge of her collar. "...I apologize..."
"...I'm not your senpai anymore, you know. At this point, you're probably mine, dammit. So it's...it...it makes me uncomfortable, alright?"
Naoto glanced nervously around the restaurant, successfully dispelling any and all judgmental stares that may be drifting their way. She cleared her throat with dignity, gently rubbing at her exposed neck before putting on a more business-like face. "...As I said, I apologize. It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."
There was no stopping it now. The dam was busted, everything was spilling out. His lips moved without thinking as he continually stared downward into that steaming cup of black water, his own reflection distorted by the ripples that came with the subtle movements of the table.
"...What'd you even need to meet me for? A spark of nostalgia? You're miles ahead of where I am right now. You're exactly where you want to be, right? You did it. Good for you. You're the detective that you wanted to be...and I can just stay as that confused fling you had back when you were young and naïve."
"..."
"...I've been keeping up with what you've been doing. That's pathetic, right? Wanting to watch you while avoiding making any real contact. I've seen all those headlines. 'Ace Detective', 'Young Genius Thwarts Criminals', 'Legendary Investigator in the Making'. Meanwhile, me, I can't hold anything down. No, I can't manage to do a damn thing."
"...Souji, that isn-"
"You know that's why I had the free time to do this? Yeah, I'm out of work right now. My schedule is blank and it's driving me up a wall...and I thought 'Hey, maybe I could meet up with an old friend? Swap stories, reminisce, give my self-worth a big boost by drowning in memories of the past!' But no...I see you come in here and the only thing I feel is...envy. And that's what I've been scared of. I've been afraid that I spent too much time talking with you I'd start to hate you being better than I am. It's stupid and selfish and I should be better than that but I'm not...so..."
"...I'm very sorry to hear that."
And that was it. Silence followed...cold, gnawing silence. Souji Seta's chest heaved...heart beating more rapidly than it should be as he forced himself to choke down the last of his coffee. It had become very apparent that more than a few of the other patrons had been listening in. Already, a horrible background of brainless gossip was forming around Souji's poorly restrained outburst.
"A fling, did he say?"
"There are men like that here? How shameful."
"Well, at least the two aren't going at it in public as some of them do."
"Wait...one of them is that detective, isn't he? I didn't know that he was into other...oh, no wonder none of his female suitors had made any progress."
A hot streak of cherry-red burned its way across Naoto's cheeks as she anxiously tugged at her collar...hard enough that Souji half-expected it to fray. There it was...that trembling, that blushing, that easily humiliated little girl that existed within the proper masculine exterior. He should've enjoyed seeing that after so long...just like when she wore that uniform just for him...
...but it was different. She was uncomfortable without reason...and naturally, it was his fault. Naoto took one more glance around before speaking up. "...It might be best if I left. I'll leave the money for my coffee...just inform the waitress that something urgent came up."
"I'll pay for it. It's fine."
"...Very well...since you insist. Perhaps...I can show you the estate another time...when you feel more comfortable."
"...Yeah...sure."
Dignity preserved, Naoto stood and turned toward the door. Souji slumped over, forming an uncomfortable pillow on the tabletop with his arms and burying his face down in the warm gloom that it formed. His heart didn't stop pounding...his thoughts raced.
Please...
Naoto took a moment to thank an employee for the service.
...anyone...anything that can help...
She opened the door and strode out onto the sidewalk.
...give me an excuse...
She stepped towards her car.
Give me an excuse to go after her!
A sound...a peculiar sound that broke through the hardening shell of trivial, gossip-heavy conversation and criminally poor atmosphere. The sound of a door swinging harshly open. Souji Seta bolted upright, his forehead slightly reddened by the light pressure of laying down atop his arm. "Naot-..."
...It wasn't her. The eyes of most present strayed to the individual who had just barged in. It was a man...tall, broad-shouldered. He couldn't see much beyond that. Clothing was thick and baggy. Gloves covered his hands. It was highly unusual for the weather. It was an appropriate weather for both long and short sleeves, but it wasn't nearly cold enough for how bundled up this individual seemed. Souji couldn't see his face. A hood covered the top of his head, and a pair of sunglasses shielded his eyes. He kept his chin flat to the top of his chest, veiling at least some portions of his mouth. It was crude, but reasonably effective. With only a fleeting glance from a decent distance, Souji probably would be unable to identify his face. Conspicuously, his right hand was stuffed snugly into an interior pocket of his shirt.
The man didn't even look around. Even with the glasses, the tilt of his head suggested that the first thing he did upon entering was look directly at the booth Souji was seated in. One glance. The man's right arm twitched anxiously before he hesitated, realizing something...
The mysterious man glanced out the booth-adjacent window. It wasn't difficult to follow his line of sight...straight to that out-of-place pre-war tourer that Naoto had been driving, with the androgynous detective only now opening the driver's side door.
Something stirred inside of Souji Seta. His body seemed to be aware of what it was reacting to even before his brain had found the ability to make sense of it all. Fear...cold, genuine...of the type that cuts through the core and rests in the limbs, weakening the joints. He jolted from his resting position...emptied and still-warm coffee cup falling from the table and chipping itself against the ground.
The mysterious assailant rushed to the sidewalk. He turned towards the detective, yelling to capture her attention...or perhaps confirm that she was the one. "NAOTO SHIROGANE!"
She turned, her hand poised near the handle to the driver's side door. The reason the assailant had been hiding his right hand was swiftly revealed upon the unveiling of a semi-automatic pistol. Souji Seta remembered only lunging towards him, grasping for his gun-toting arm...before blackness overtook him.
Consciousness came like a benediction. Souji Seta awoke to the most horrific sort of pain..a sharp, constant throb that echoed about the fragile interior of his skull. Instinctively, his hand reached for his forehead...only to be stopped by something. Someone was grasping his wrist. "Hey hey hey...hold on, don't do that. Just stay still, okay? You might have a serious head injury."
Head injury? Souji squinted, desperately adjusting his vision but to no avail. Everything was just a big, messy blur...a mesh of incomprehensible color and movement and hurried, panicked voices.
Something bothered him. Something was eating at him. Fear...but what? A headache, sure, but he felt fine otherwise. Then what? What to be afraid of? It was an uneasiness...a horrible, looming sense of dread...the same that came when one went to bed depressed or angry. It was the feeling of waking up and not being able to remember that something was wrong.
"...Naoto...where...where is Detective Shirogane!"
"Hold still."
"Tell me where the detective is!"
"He's fine, he's fine...geez. Heck, you got busted up much worse than anyone else here."
"What...what happened?" He had no problem confiding in whoever this was. He assumed he was a paramedic...and he talked as if he knew perfectly well what had transpired.
"Well...apparently, some guy tried to off the detective. Pulled out a pistol."
"...And?"
"That's when you jumped him."
"Yeah!"
"...Well...hate to tell ya this...but it would've been better if you hadn't done it. The guy's gun jammed...he couldn't get off a single shot."
"...So...then how did...?"
"...Ya get like this? Oh, you headbutted the piss outta 'em."
"...Wh-"
"Some advice, by the way. There's a method to headbutting people, y'know. You don't just...crack foreheads together. That just hurts both of ya about equally. See, the key is to go for the nose. Ya wanna hit the softest part of their body with the hardest part of yours."
"...So...so, I knocked both him and I out?"
A laugh...a nervous one. It was the laugh that preceded the revelation of embarrassing news. "...Actually...you only knocked yourself out. I mean, ya hurt the guy...broke his glasses...but he got away. From what I hear, you went out like a light..."
"...I see."
"Yup."
"...Do you have anything that could knock me out again?"
The medic laughed uproariously...unrestrained, not watered down even in the slightest. "Haha! Ohwow, you're a funny guy. Nahh...you're fine. We'll get ya properly checked out in a while, but I don't think you have a concussion. Guys who have concussions have really awful senses of humor."
Souji Seta gradually became more aware of his surroundings. He was laid out flat on the sidewalk. A crowd had gathered...mostly rich old women come to gossip and take notes so they can go out and talk more gossip. Souji turned on his side as he attempted to gain his balance and stand. There was a blood stain on the concrete...probably his own. He grasped around blindly before finding something solid...luckily enough, it was the good-humored paramedic's shoulder. Groaning, he struggled to his feet...wobbling just a bit before gaining his composure.
"Excuse me. EXCUSE ME! Why is this man not placed on a stretcher?"
A familiar voice...feminine, but forcibly deepened. The paramedic gave a laugh, shrugging it off as he gave Souji a robust pat on the back. "Haha! Come onnnn...he's fine! He's a trooper! He just got a bump. No need to lay him out. Heck, I'm be perfectly fine if he drove himself to the hospital."
Souji was impressed by Naoto's presence. Considering her diminutive stature...she could be imposing when she felt like. The paramedic actually trembled beneath the cold stare coming from beyond the brim of her officer's cap. "I specifically said that he should be placed onto a stretcher and immediately rushed to the nearest properly equipped hospital! I want everything taken care of. If he doesn't have insurance, that's fine. It'll get paid for. He needs a full physical examination, a full-body X-ray, and-"
"Naoto! I'm fine...really. You don't have to give 'em an earful..."
Righteous tirade of words came to an abrupt end. The paramedic backed away despite this...perhaps just to see if Souji was capable enough to stand without support. He teetered just a bit, but his balance soon found itself.
Naoto's stare was harsh...smooth lips contorted into the tightest of knots as she glared bullets through the gray-haired young man holding his head in front of her.
...After almost a minute of silence, the paramedic seemed to take the hint and stepped to the side. "...Don't keep 'em, detective. You're right in that he SHOULD get an exam as soon as possible...so don't talk his ear off, huh? He doesn't need ear problems too..."
A nervous laugh followed before he actually departed. The man's retreating footsteps were painful to endure...each one quieter, dooming Souji to the horrible hell of a very long lecture.
Naoto was thorough. She didn't pay attention to simply the footsteps...glancing about until he was sure he was gone. The crowd, for the most part, had departed...local police ushering them away, only a few stragglers left to chat amongst themselves and swap inane theories about what had transpired.
...Naoto removed her hat. That's how he knew she was serious. Gripping it by the hard bill, she swung it...the fabric portion swatting painlessly against the injured Seta's arms. "What were you thinking! What could have possibly crossed through your mind to just...do something like that! He had a gun! Not a fake knife or some childish thing, but a real gun!"
"..."
"...I don't need you do anything like that for me! You think I can't defend myself? You know very well that I'd be more well-prepared for something like this than you." A gesture to your coat pocket. That's right...she was pretty good with a gun, wasn't she?
"...How was I supposed to kno-"
"Don't be a fool! I don't go anywhere without it. If we'd both managed to draw, I guarantee you that I would've shot first."
"...Because his gun ja-"
"EVEN if it didn't, I would've shot first. The fact that the gun jammed made it even worse! I was never in any danger, but YOU...what if he also had a knife? What if he'd struck you with the gun? What if he'd decided to take you hostage? It was a short-sighted decision...a fool's choice. If you hadn't interfered, I could've had a gun on him! He wouldn't have gotten away then, but he did, and now I still have to think about what I'll do if this happens again and I'm unprepared!"
"...I get it. I messed up."
"...Did it make you feel better about yourself? Is that okay? Did you think it would make you more important? Would it make you feel superior again? Did you get a sufficient boost of self-esteem from being able to put yourself on a higher tier and be able to 'rescue' a helpless little girl!"
...He had to think about it...hand still painfully groping at his injured face as he considered the possibility. "If it did...then...it would just be a side effect."
"...That doesn't make any sense."
"No...it does, it makes perfect sense...to me, at least. Maybe not you. It's funny..."
He felt light-headed suddenly, but he continued...taking the time to sit down on the concrete, raising his hand to assure Naoto that he wasn't falling back into unconsciousness.
He droned on...speaking as much to himself as he did to Naoto in a steady, droning tone. "...right when you left, all I could think of was...'Please, give me an excuse to go back out there.' I wanted to apologize for acting like such a kid...and part of me thought about how nice it would be to make myself useful for you...to feel like you really needed me in order to fully succeed. But...when I actually realized what was happening...I didn't think about that. All I thought was...'She can't be hurt. I can't sit back and let her be hurt. I don't know what I'd do if she were...dead.'"
"...Souji, that's..."
"Fear. Fear of you being hurt is what made me do it. Not jealousy or greed or selfishness...at least, that's what I think. I'unno...from what I've seen, it's hard to know just how my mind works...but if selfishness was involved, I wasn't actively thinking about it...if that helps. You don't have to believe me or anything...but it was the same back then, you know? With the fake knife? I wasn't thinking 'I have to protect this person because she can't protect herself'...it was more like...'Someone I care about is about to be hurt. I have to do something.'"
"..."
"...Wanna hear something funny?" Souji smiled...a genuine smile, reaching deep into his pants pocket.
"...! That's..."
He brandished the handmade watch that she'd given him so long ago...boldly snapping it onto his wrist. It was different than what he was accustomed to when dealing with Naoto. Nylon strap and plastic...to the naked eye, it was just a cheap digital sports watch. It wasn't her style...but, it was efficient and well-made. More important than anything was the special feature that had been added in by Naoto herself...what made it unique. "I...was gonna wear this. Had it all planned out. In my head, you'd show up...and I'd hold up my wrist...and then you'd hold up yours...and I'd get to say, 'Hey, look! We're in range again! Isn't that great'? But...at the last moment, I got scared...and I thought that maybe you'd forgotten about it...that you wouldn't wear it. So...I just kept it in my pocket this entire time..."
He played with the cherished keepsake...bouncing it between clumsy fingers before settling it back into the pit of his palm. "...This is probably the most I've spoken in the last few months. That's weird, right? I was always the quiet type, I think...but being around you just makes me wanna talk."
His thumb flicked a button on the edge of the watch. The plain plastic screen illuminated itself, the blocky digital numerals altering from telling time to telling something that was, perhaps, more important.
DISTANCE: 1 METER
Souji's sad smile melted away, glancing up to Naoto, who had been standing the whole time. She reached into her pocket, revealing a handmade watch. The most noticeable of blushes throbbed at her cheeks. She fidgeted...avoided eye contact. Nostalgia...
"...You too?"
"...Yes."
"...Wow..."
"...We should get you to the hospital."
Souji Seta emerged from the hospital doors still clutching his head. After seeing a mirror, he realized that the damage was worse than he'd previously imagined. A little blood...a lot of bruising. They wrapped his forehead up tight though...gave him a bottle of prescription pain pills, told him to get someone else to drive him today, and sent him on his way. He didn't have a problem with not driving. After all, Naoto drove him here anyway. It was a nice hospital...too nice, maybe. A rich person's hospital. Shintate General Hospital was one unaccustomed to those without insurance...a bourgeois
establishment if there ever was one. They were reluctant to admit him...but seeing the unique detective that accompanied him, they finally got the idea that his ride was gonna be paid for.
Naoto didn't stay very long. She lingered long enough to make sure things were in order before departing on unexplained business. She did, however, assure that he'd be sent a reliable ride to the estate as long as he wasn't admitted overnight.
Souji glanced about. Time had passed. The sun was setting, so there was no reason to shield his eyes amidst the pale orange glow of oncoming nightfall.
...He didn't see Naoto's car.
"Excuse me...Mr. Souji Seta?"
Souji turned, having been stealthily approached by a man he felt like he should recognize. A man in a black suit...middle-aged, but healthy. His stern, but gentle, face was riddled with various lines of wisdom...a modest brown mustache tickling at his upper lip. He was so modest and well-behaved that he almost seemed to melt into the background and avoid all suspicious.
"...Y-...yeah?"
"...Do you not remember me, sir?"
"...Should I?"
"Yakushiji. I am the Shirogane personal secretary."
"...Oh...oh! Yeah! Thanks for the sc-...umm...thanks for...thanks."
"...You wanted to say 'Thanks for the schoolgirl outfit', didn't you?"
"...Maybe."
"Hm...well. We need to get down to business."
Yakushiji hoisted a streamlined black briefcase, opening it swiftly and thrusting it towards the unsuspecting Seta. There was surprisingly little inside. Concealed within a loose sleeve was a small stack of papers...and what looked to be a ballpoint pen.
"Here is your application."
"...For...?"
"Employment."
"...With...?"
"The Shirogane Estate."
Souji's face reddened. His fists balled. He restrained himself enough not to yell, but his voice came out in a harsh rasp regardless. "I...I don't need a sympathy job, alright? I'm fine."
"...If we gave jobs to everyone who we sympathized with, Mr. Seta, we would have absolutely no room to hire anyone else."
"Goddammit. This was Naoto's idea?"
"No. This is me...responding to what I believe Detective Shirogane desires."
"...So...what? You want me to be a butler?"
"Oh, no no no. You don't have nearly enough training."
"..."
"Ahem..."
Yakushiji's expression became more grave. He steadied his breath, eyes squinting with an air of seriousness. "...Are you aware that Detective Shirogane, unlike most detectives, works solo?"
"...I thought so."
"...Most detectives don't. Do you know why?"
"...They get lonely?"
"Hm. Funny. No no...it's dangerous work. For example...let's say that today's assailant actually knew how to properly use a Browning 9mm and it didn't jam. Despite what the detective insists...he had the element of surprised. It's very unlikely that she would be able to shoot first..."
"...R-...right...especially since she uses a revolver, huh?"
"...I am going to ignore the fact that you, for some reason, are intimate with the detective's personal choice of firearm for the time being."
"Eheh."
"...What is important here is...it would make both me, and the detective's retired grandfather, much more at ease if she didn't go about doing everything on her own...especially after today's incident."
"...You keep saying that, but...all I hear is 'We feel sorry for you, ya bum, take this job'."
"...Hear what you will, Mr. Seta. As I have said...Detective Shirogane did not request this. I am merely responding to the desires that she dares not to speak."
"..Tch..."
"...Are you aware of how much she talked about your meeting? For days, all I've heard throughout the estate is 'senpai this' and 'senpai that'. She has very little time for social interaction...and it seems that you were, at least, once close to her. If you are to accept this position...it solves everything, doesn't it? You have a job...she has company...she is significantly safer..."
"Th-...I...I don't have any...police training! You can't just-"
"The Shirogane Detective Agency is a private firm. We reserve the right to hire whoever we so choose."
Souji Seta's voice stalled. He scratched indecisively at his scalp, glancing down towards the papers. Seemed like it asked for typical things. Personal information...that's all. 'Sign name, receive occupation'.
"...S-so...you want to be a detective?"
"No. I want you to be a detective's assistant. That is...personal secretary...bodyguard...chauffeur...messenger...errand boy...the works. You will be Detective Shirogane's keeper..."
This was a stupid idea, wasn't it? He still had a lease on an apartment. He still had a life...of sorts. He couldn't just...
"Where would I st-"
"Occupation comes with complimentary room and board."
"...But-"
"As well as a sizable bimonthly paycheck."
"...I-"
"You will keep very busy. Working in all sorts of environments. You'll want for nothing, Mr. Seta."
Forty-five minutes later, Souji Seta signed the papers. "...When will I know if I'm hired."
"Well, there is a rigorous application process. Your application will be sent to the second-highest authority of the Shirogane Estate, exclusing Mr. Shirogane himself."
"...Who would that be?"
"Me."
Yakushiji held the stack of loose papers up, casually flipping through them in less than a minute. "Everything checks out. Congratulations, Mr. Seta. You are hired."
"...Y-...you..."
Souji Seta's arm was grasped snugly, Yakushiji not bothering to look behind him as he led him off to his escorting vehicle. Disappointingly, Yakushiji drived a much more modest vehicle rather than a pre-war slice of history.
"Now, Mr. Seta, allow me to explain your duties. Detective Shirogane wakes up at 6:00 AM sharp. Therefore, you will be awake by 4:00 AM to prepare for the day. You will be in charge of taking all of the detective's calls as well as organizing any and all paperwork or vital evidence. Shamefully, the detective isn't the most organized person in the world. Before the detective awakens, everything must be placed in order by you before the day begins."
"W-...who did this before?"
"No one. That's why the detective is always so disorganized. Now, can you drive a manual transmission?"
"Stick shift? Yeah."
"Can you drive with the manual transmission of a 1933 Cadillac?"
"...Y-...no..."
"Oh well, you'll learn. Any formal self-defense training."
"...No...b-but I'm okay with a sword."
"Hm. Funny. The detective said you had a remarkable sense of humor. Anyway, you'll be fine. You're tall and you have very sharp eyes, so just intimidate people. You're not getting a gun though. We'll see if we can outfit you with something nonlethal. Just don't headbutt anyone else. You have fists for a reason...though, if you look daunting enough, it will rarely come to that. I always did think you looked like a tough sort though. Been in any delinquent gangs?"
"...No..."
"Hm. Odd. I suppose it was the eyes that tricked me, as insensitive as that is. Do you have exposed sclera? That would help...though, if your stare is steely enough you won't need it. Now, your wardrobe..."
"...Wardrobe?"
"Yes. We'll have to get your measured by a decent tailor. It would be strange to see the detective out and about with someone who looks like a NEET..."
"...I don't...really like suits."
"...Well, you know what they say. Wearing a suit is like driving a 1933 Cadillac."
"...How?"
"Difficult at first, but you learn to love it, Mr. Seta."
(AN: Alright, more to come later. Hope I didn't get too dialogue-heavy.)