The Detective is Already Dead

At the beginning of the mystery, cop a feel

"You're the ace detective?"

Class was done for the day, and the sun was going down. In a classroom, someone had hauled me up by my shirtfront and right out of my nap to interrogate me.

My bleary eyes couldn't really make out her face. I checked back through my memories, but I didn't recognize her voice.

Apparently, I was being threatened by some girl I didn't know. I had no clue why.

I'd spent the whole school day, from the morning bell until class was over, facedown on my desk. This girl struck me as the type who'd run for student government; maybe she couldn't stand seeing her classmate sleep his life away and had done me the favor of waking me up but got a little rough...or something?

No, if we were in the same class, I would at least remember her voice. This girl really was a total stranger to me.

Then what was this? Why was I being hauled up by my collar? And the progressive tense there is literal—she was still holding me.

My sleep-addled brain wasn't up to deducing much of anything. Of course it wasn't; I'm no detective.

Wait, detective?

Didn't this girl say "detective" a minute ago?

"Don't just stand there—answer me. Are you Kimihiko Kimizuka, the ace detective people are talking about?"

It was the first time in a year that I'd heard that awful word. Detective.

"You've got the wrong guy. Now, if you'll excuse me..." "Wait."

"Gweh," I wheezed. Humans normally aren't supposed to make sounds like that.

Impossible as it was to believe, she'd shoved her fingers into my mouth. "If you're going to ignore my question, don't expect mercy. I'll touch the

dangly thing at the back of your throat." "This's...really unfair..."

Finally, I got a clear look at her face.

Strong-willed and sharp eyes. Long eyelashes. A prominent nose and tense lips.

A little of her long black hair was pulled into a stylish ponytail high on the side of her head, like any contemporary high school girl.

...But I didn't remember anyone like her going to my school. I can't believe I didn't even notice such a dangerous character. I guess I'm not as sharp as I used to be.

"So you are Kimihiko Kimizuka, right?"

Hearing my full name over and over felt weird. Reluctantly, I nodded. "Answer me properly. Use your words."

"...Khah!"

Her fingertips touched my uvula, and bile welled up from the pit of my stomach.

"Ugh, you're the worst. Getting this much spit all over the fingers of a girl you've just met—what is wrong with you?"

I wanted to ask her who put the fingers in my mouth in the first place, but they were still touching the back of my mouth, and her other hand was gripping my uniform shirt. It was practically a new type of torture.

"Guh...ungh..."

"Huh? Come on, you're crying? A big boy of eighteen, and getting a girl's fingers all sticky with your drool isn't enough for you? You want to cry and throw a tantrum? You had other ways you wanted to play?"

I could hear my dignity as a human being crashing down around me. I couldn't blink back the tears or swallow the drool. What the hell? What did I do to deserve this?

"Oh, I see. Yes, of course: You wanted me to hold you close, didn't you?" She pressed my face to her chest.

The marshmallowy softness and the sweet scent of her perfume threatened

to dissolve my brain.

And the sound of her heart— That's weird. For some reason, it seemed terribly familiar. Could I possibly be sensing something maternal in a girl my own age?

...Nope. No way. Not touching that.

Caught between pleasure and agony, I yelled and wrenched myself free. "That's too bad. I wouldn't have minded playing with you for a bit longer." "......Hff...hff, don't use your body to play games with people. Don't

push some stranger's face into your boobs," I snapped

For the first time, she smiled faintly. "I'm Nagisa Natsunagi," she said. The name was seasonally appropriate—meaning "calm summer shore"—and she held out her right hand for me to shake.

"...Go wash that first, all right?"

Assistant and client; the detective is out

"I'd like to place a request."

A few minutes later, Natsunagi had returned from the bathroom and taken the seat in front of me so that we were facing each other.

"Don't you have something to say to me first?"

"Yes, I'd like to request an apology for getting my fingers dirty." "I'm supposed to apologize?!"

Again, she was being totally unfair. It was so unfair that you could pull together all the unfairness in the world and still not have enough to cover it.

"Well, when you do something people don't like, offering an apology is the natural course of action, isn't it?"

"It sure as hell is, so I could say the same to you!"

"Oh, come on. Anyone would think I'd done something to you that you didn't like."

Yeah, actually—that's exactly what I've been saying!

What is her deal? Is this girl trying to improv a comedy sketch with me a few minutes after we've just met?

"You're saying you wouldn't mind if somebody pulled a stunt like that on you?" I asked.

"Huh? ...Th-that's a good question." Natsunagi's gaze abruptly began to

wander. "You're right; I guess I wouldn't want someone doing that to me. That's normal. Yeah..."

"Huh? Why are you blushing a little? What was that last part supposed to mean?"

Hey, her sadist character just evaporated. As a matter of fact, I was starting to wonder whether she was compensating.

...Maybe I should check.

"Would you rather be loved, or...?" "Love."

"Would you rather tie up someone else, or...?" "Be tied up."

"Money's tight this month, so..." "I'll pay. How much do you need?" "Wow, you're really a masochist."

"Wha—?!" Natsunagi's lips trembled as if I'd just confronted her with a shocking revelation.

Seriously, what happened to the girl I was talking to a few seconds ago?

"I-I'm not! I don't have...preferences like that! ...And hey, would you not derail the conversation? I'm here because I have a request for you!"

Was it anger, embarrassment, or the sunset light creating the flush on her cheeks? Natsunagi smacked the desk and stood up. So her default is being aggressive, then.

For a little while after that, her shoulders were heaving as she caught her breath.

"I'm looking for someone," she said. Her eyes were incredibly serious. I see, a missing person. That's why she wanted an ace detective, hmm? "You are Kimihiko Kimizuka...aren't you?"

...Geez. She's not going to let me go until she gets an answer.

"Yes. I've been a Kimizuka since before I was born, and I've been a Kimihiko since the day of."

"And you're an ace detective?"

"Unfortunately, you've got the wrong guy. I don't have a granddad who was a detective, and I've never been force-fed a weird drug and ended up looking like a little kid."

"The wrong guy?" Natsunagi's eyebrows jumped. "But I saw it in the paper."

"The paper?"

When I heard that, I thought back...but I didn't know what Natsunagi was referring to.

"The evening edition three days ago, about an admirable high school boy who caught a bag snatcher."

"Oh, that, huh?"

"Yes—but if that was all, I wouldn't be doing this." Then Natsunagi opened her school bag and upended it, dumping its contents all over the floor. "These are all articles about you."

It was a massive number of newspaper clippings. "...You checked into me?"

Each of the articles had my name and headshot... Well, that was part of why I asked; I hadn't known which incident Natsunagi had seen in the paper.

"Um, 'Super high school boy shuts down billing fraud before it happens!' 'Finding pets is his specialty: Boy K. locates another lost kitten.' 'Life-saving expert saves two lives on his way to school!' —If you insist you're not an ace detective, what in the world are you?"

This is what my routine looks like these days. I still get dragged into things constantly, and by now, I'm completely used to it.

I didn't think that would necessarily make me an "ace detective," but... Well, I knew what she was trying to say.

"You're exaggerating. C'mon, don't overestimate me."

The fact that I run into incidents, and that I luck into resolving them, is all due to the way trouble always finds me. It's not like I have any special skills.

Way back when, those experiences did make me overconfident. However, a year ago, I was forced to see that they were absolutely worthless.

So I don't want anybody thinking I can do more than I can. Sorry, but I'm no detective. Right now, I'm pretty sure this tepid life suits me best.

"How modest," Natsunagi said. "Gee, thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment." "What, it wasn't?!"

"You can't even see your own abilities right; why would I compliment you?"

Aha. Apparently, that had been her brand of sarcasm.

"Well, if even I can't see my own abilities right, what makes you think

someone else can do better?"

"You're saying no one can know you better than you? Awfully full of yourself." Natsunagi crossed her arms, hugging her own chest, and gave a little snort. "Subjective opinions are the least reliable things in the world. What's important is always objective fact. Am I wrong?" Natsunagi asked, yanking on my shirt again and pulling me toward her.

Her moist lips were right there. Her breath was sweet and warm. Her ruby- red eyes were boring a hole right between mine.

She continued. "The things you did are solid fact. That means how we praise those achievements, and how they compare with others, is entirely up to 'someone else.' Don't you think?"

Her straightforward, haughty gaze reminded me very strongly of someone else. Someone who didn't exist anymore.

"...So you said you were looking for somebody?" Yeah, I'd had all I could take of being that close. I pushed Natsunagi's shoulders away, and we stood facing each other.

"Yes...?"

I know; she got me good. But for the sake of my pride, let me stress that Natsunagi hadn't argued me down or persuaded me in any particular way.

It was just that now that I'd seen that shadow of someone else in her, it was all I could do.

Geez. I'm well trained, huh?

"You'll accept the role of detective?" Suddenly, the emotion on Natsunagi's face turned to shock. There was something unexpectedly childlike about the way her expression changed from moment to moment.

"No, I can't be a detective. But—" "But?"

"If you'll settle for an assistant, I'll take the job."

Natsunagi gave a wry, chagrined smile. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sorry, but that's been my position for four years. "And? Who are you looking for?" Just finding someone shouldn't take all that long, I thought and stretched.

With a perfectly straight face, Natsunagi replied, "Good question. I don't know. I want you to find out who I'm looking for."

Well, I suppose that tracked. For a girl who'd declared that subjective opinions were the least reliable things in the world, it was a very appropriate

problem.

Say, whose heart is this?

"So then, what? You're saying you've had this constant feeling that you're forgetting someone lately, but you can't remember who?"

On the way home, after that conversation, Natsunagi and I had stopped in at a café, and we were discussing her request again over coffee.

"Right. There's somebody I absolutely have to find and talk to, but I have no idea who they are. I couldn't even begin to guess their age or gender, or where they live... Ooh, this is good."

Smiling faintly, Natsunagi raised her mug to her lips. Even just caffeinating herself, she was as pretty as a picture. Lucky her.

As for me, I have no idea how many times my old partner told me she'd forget my boring face if she didn't see it for a couple of days.

"...What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Natsunagi finally seemed to have registered my gaze; she pushed her chair back a bit. Stealing glances at me, she fidgeted with the hem of her short skirt.

"You want to be watched?" "...—!"

Something whacked me over the head, like a paper fan from a slapstick show.

"...You're being unfair."

"You've been making a lot of weird assumptions for a while now, Kimizuka... And is 'unfair' a speech tic of yours or something?"

"When someone's being unfair, I have to say so. That's all."

It's why I was saying it for the first time in a year. I didn't actually want to, you know.

"All right, getting back on topic." I took a swallow of my coffee, too. "This mystery person you're looking for—let's call them 'X.' You don't have even the tiniest clue about X?"

"Nope. I don't even know why I'm so obsessed. It's just...at random moments, I start wanting to see them. Even though I don't know who they are." Natsunagi gazed out the window.

"Roughly when did this start? Has it been this way for as long as you can

remember, or since you started high school, or...?" "One year ago." She seemed very sure about that.

Natsunagi said she didn't know X's gender or nationality or age, but apparently she was certain about when she'd started thinking about them.

"What happened a year ago?"

"I almost died, but I didn't. Well, to be more specific, someone gave me my life."

If she'd gone out of her way to rephrase, the point was significant.

For some reason, Natsunagi's life had been in peril, but this wasn't the language you'd use to describe a narrow escape. In that case—

"The heartbeat I let you hear in the classroom—that wasn't mine." "—An organ transplant, huh?"

Natsunagi gave a small nod. "I've had a heart ailment ever since I was little. While I waited for the day they could do the transplant, I was in and out of the hospital all the time... I couldn't even go to school."

"I see. No wonder I didn't know you."

"Right. After all, you couldn't possibly have missed such an adorable girl otherwise."

"Sorry, I've had this big chunk of earwax plugging my ear since yesterday, so I can't hear... Ow, ow, ow, ow! Don't grab my little finger! Stop squeezing—you'll break it!"

"Well, you're the one who broke the conversation." "That argument makes zero sense!"

You get to be a sadist or a masochist, not both. Don't get greedy.

I sighed, but Natsunagi ignored me and went on.

"Then, one year ago, they found a compatible donor, and I was finally able to receive a heart transplant. That's when I started to get flickers of X's presence in the back of my mind."

"You mean you've already been looking for a year?"

"No. I had to be on bed rest for a while after the transplant; even if I'd wanted to do something about it, I couldn't. But I finally started going to school recently, and I'd read articles about you, Kimizuka."

I see. I was finally getting a picture of the time line and the rough shape of events. We might be able to clear up this issue a lot sooner than I thought.

"Memory transference," I said.

Natsunagi tilted her head slightly. Apparently, it was a foreign concept to

her.

In that case, putting it like this might make it easier to understand.

"This X you're looking for—they're someone the former owner of your heart wants to see."

"...That's the craziest thing I've ever..."

"If you really think so, then why was your heart transplant the first thing you told me about?"

Natsunagi fell silent.

"You said you'd started to sense X's shadow a year ago. When I asked what had happened back then, you said an organ transplant had saved your life. So you yourself just admitted that there's a correlation between X and your heart transplant. Am I wrong?"

"...You're kind of a jerk, Kimizuka."

Natsunagi glared at me from under half-lowered eyelids. Guess I was right. "The phenomenon of memory transference hasn't been scientifically proved, but there have been multiple cases of it. In 1988, a Jewish woman named Claire Sylvia received an organ transplant in America, and a few days later, her eating habits changed drastically. She developed a taste for peppers, which she'd never liked, and for fast food, even though she was a ballet dancer who always used to avoid it. Later, when she talked to her donor's

family, she learned that those were things he'd liked." "That could have been coincidence, couldn't it?"

"That's not all. In her dreams, Claire saw her donor's first name. She asked his family, and that was indeed his name. And that's just one of many... Want more?"

"...You're kind of a jerk, Kimizuka."

It didn't matter what she thought of me; if she was convinced, that was fine.

"So what? Does that mean this heart is the one who wants to meet X, not me?"

"Probably. I'm guessing X is the donor's family member, lover, or friend... Something along those lines."

"I see..." Natsunagi slipped a hand over the left side of her chest, biting her lip softly.

"Well, there you go: Congratulations. Problem solved."

Well, I helped her out this far. She can pay me in coffee.

On that thought, I got up, leaving the bill, but...

"Huh? Where do you think you're going?" Natsunagi was glaring daggers at me. "If you say you're leaving now, I'll double-kill you."

"That's very...original. Geez, okay." Cowed by her hostility, I reluctantly returned to my chair. "I thought the conversation was over."

"What gave you that idea? Weren't you looking at a girl who'd put her hand on her chest, biting her lip forlornly?"

"I thought you were just indulging in a sentimental epilogue." "You have no human feelings, do you?"

Human feelings? Nah, I threw those away in a back alley somewhere a year ago. "Think what you want. Natsunagi, like I said, the owner of that heart is the one who wants to meet X, not you. It's just a memory from when they were alive. This has nothing to do with you."

"You're wrong!" Natsunagi smacked the table and stood up. "That's wrong. This isn't just a memory—it's a regret. Even if their body is dead, they let me inherit their heart. That's how badly they want to meet X. This heart gave me life, and I want to pay it back. It's the least I can do. I want to help this heart find who it's looking for."

The way she spoke had changed from what it had been earlier. It was proof that she was saying what she really felt, compelled by her emotions.

"So all this is really for yourself."

"Sure, I'm doing it for myself. This heart is mine. That means I'm the one who wants to see X."

"That's not what you said before." "...Just shut up and help me."

A moist towelette came flying across the table, thwacked me in the face, and clung there. It was indeed moist and really gross.

"...I assume you're going to compensate me?"

When I peeled the wet cloth off my face, my eyes met Natsunagi's grumpy ones.

"I paid you in advance by letting you touch my chest, remember?" "Classic extortion."

"If that's not enough for you, I'll expose your weird habits to the entire student body."

"And like I said, I could sure as hell say the same to you!" "Ngh... Listen, do you think I really am one of those people...?"

"If you want someone to give you advice, that is the literal worst way to go about it."

Nonsense aside...

"Well, I did say I'd do it."

I'd already agreed, and I couldn't really go back on my word. "No matter what, the client's interests must be protected." That's something she used to tell me, over and over.

"All right then, tomorrow. We'll meet in front of the station at two in the afternoon."

"Huh? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. It's already late today."

Left with no choice, I took the check and got up, getting ready to leave. "You want to see X, right?"

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