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The sound of rain, quiet through the windows, grew louder as the thick wooden door creaked open. Akira set her tablet on the desk, heart pounding. The money was no problem, but waiting like this wasn’t in her nature, and it had been difficult to sit here day after day, hoping to see that doorknob turn, for the prospect of a case.
So when she came to recognize the drenched figure in the doorway, Akira slumped back in her chair, defeated. Ayako had treated this whole venture as some sort of midlife distraction, but of course Ayako had one of those too, one who’d just stepped through her door.
Or, more accurately, was trying to. Gripping the handle tight with both hands, Asuka struggled to close the door behind her. Her situation worsened when it caught a particularly strong gust and she was dragged with it, hardwood floor squeaking beneath her. The pitched tug-of-war continued until the wind finally shifted and the door was forced to relent, clicking as Asuka yanked it shut.
Turning back toward Akira, she let out an exhausted sigh. “Hey, Akira-chan.” No longer forced to brace herself against the weather, her eyes grew wide as she surveyed the place. “Wow. Nice office.”
Akira guessed it wasn’t the sparse decor that impressed Asuka, just the sheer size of the place, in reality more curse than blessing. She’d never had this much space to fill, and after the essentials—desk, two high-backed chairs, some wooden ones for clients that now sat covered in a thin layer of dust—Akira was completely lost. Leaning forward, she set an elbow on the desk. “Finally decided to come by?”
“I was just in the neighborhood, that’s all.“ Dripping, Asuka took to one of the wooden chairs, tossing her backpack to the floor like she lived here. “And somebody took my umbrella! I thought you might have one, or maybe I could wait here, or …” She looked at Akira expectantly.
It wasn’t even a social call—just the usual dynamic. Akira wished Asuka would at least try to turn up the charm when she wanted something. She clicked on her ornate little desk lamp, trying to improve the lighting. Even paired with the large windows, it wasn’t enough on days like this—maybe she could fix that next. “Today’s your study group with Rui, right?”
“Was. She canceled. Again.” Asuka folded her arms. “I’m done! She could at least call before I come all the way out here. She’s been acting so weird—“
The high-backed chair that had been turned towards the window swiveled to face the two of them, the desk having hid the dangling legs of its occupant. Hanamura Yuuki glanced up at Akira over her open newspaper. “Investigation.”
Yes, maybe there was a chance after all. Akira half-stood from her chair, both palms hitting the desk a little harder than she would have intended had the action been entirely volitional. Yuuki’s coffee mug rattled faintly. “Do you want me to investigate?”
Startled, Asuka backed away from the desk a bit. “Uh, that’s okay. I just thought I’d stop by.”
“Ah.” Yuuki scoffed, turning a page. “A cover-up.”
“Who’s this, anyway, Akira-chan? Are you dating again?” Asuka’s self-satisfied smirk fell. “Wait, I know you! You’re Hanamura-san’s daughter, right?”
“Sayaka and I … “ Yuuki folded her newspaper and set it on the table. “Are married.”
“Oh. I see.” Suddenly looking a little shaken, Asuka glanced towards the door. “So do you have a spare or not?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around until closing?” Maybe she could get Asuka talking. “I’d be happy to drive you home.”
“Not really.”
“Alright.” This was the closest they’d come to a case in months, and it was about to walk out the door. Dejected, Akira sunk to an elbow, cupping her chin and waving Asuka off with her other hand. “Just take mine, then. I’ll pick up another on the drive if the weather doesn’t clear up.“
“Thanks!” Asuka leaned down to retrieve her bag, and as she lifted it a small stream of water trickled from a seam onto the floor. The muffled din of the rain aside, it was the only noise in the room, and impossible not to notice. Asuka let out a faint whine. “I’m seriously going to kill that slacker if all my notes are ruined.” As she slipped the bag on her shoulder it continued to drip. ”Damn Rui.”
Trying to keep her expression neutral, Akira leaned forward. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
Asuka went pale. “I’m leaving.” Stomping back to the doorway and leaving a trail of water behind her as she went, she wrenched the door open. Akira again tried to hold back, but as she watched Asuka open the umbrella and step out under a canopy of translucent green, Akira called out to her again.
“If you don’t, I will!”
She could see Asuka turn and glare at her under the umbrella for a split second before the door fell shut, and with the recognition Akira let out a little hum of satisfaction.
Yuuki picked the newspaper up again and shook it out. “Dame dame.”
“Don’t say that.” Akira struggled to remember if she had bought a mop. “She’s my niece.”
Bright red light danced over the large pill bottle in Ayako’s hand, her coat fluttering slightly as she wiggled the hand scanner gun over the barcode. Failing to get any response, she briefly glanced up as Akira neared, then returned her gaze to the bottle. Sweeping some plastic caps on the counter aside with the back of her hand, she laid it beside the sorting tray, trying to press flat the barcode side with her palm as she resumed the attempt.
Akira slid in next to her. It was a rare treat to find this space empty; Keiko was always here, typing away on the laptop or fetching the paper slips that hung from clips on the wall. Despite her contortions, Ayako was still seemingly meeting with little success. Snatching the bottle back into her hand, she looked up at Akira over her shoulder. “What are you doing back here?”
Stepping behind Ayako, Akira gently placed her hands on the back of the shorter woman’s, lifting her left hand to turn the opaque bottle, the right aiming the scanner squarely at the barcode.
“Every detective …”
Their bodies entangled, Akira wrapped her index finger over Ayako’s, and together they pulled the trigger. The laptop let out a loud beep, the whole screen flashing white as it updated, like somebody had written the software in the nineties.
“… needs a good vice, I thought.”
Ayako set the bottle down. “You’re not overseas anymore. You won’t find any—”
Akira gave a mock gasp. “Did you think I meant drugs?” She lowered her arms, wrapping them around Ayako’s torso. “No, I wanted something I can only get here.”
“Sorry. Out of stock.”
“But I never find you alone in the back,” Akira pouted. “It’s always so busy out there.”
Ayako shrugged. “Keiko’s on break.” She turned the tray, and the pills rattled pleasantly into the translucent orange bottle. Ayako reached for a cap. “I hope you aren’t letting that little girl run around unsupervised.“
“Who, Yuuki? She’s fifteen.”
Ayako laughed like she’d heard a bad joke. “Allegedly. She has no common sense.”
“Trust me, she’s fine! Saya’s playing with her. It’s just you and me back here.”
“And plenty of work,” Ayako said, abrupt. “And I know you aren’t going to help me—”
Akira leaned down slightly to kiss the back of Ayako’s head. “I will.”
Without taking her eyes off the tray, Ayako held that little orange bottle to her side, the pills inside clattering as she shook it lightly. “With these.”
“Oh, no.” Akira backed away, hands in the air. “That’s employees-only.”
“So is our get-together tonight. You’re mysteriously still welcome, as always. Saya was hoping you’d come by, in fact.” At last Ayako saw fit to turn towards her while speaking, and as she looked over her shoulder Akira noticed a slight blush with the meek smile, as conspiratorial as Ayako could ever muster. “But she didn’t want to say anything.”
“Sure.” It was perfect timing: Keiko would be out. Akira leaned on the wall as Ayako stepped past her to the shelves. “I might be a little late, though. Tell her to give me, like, an hour before she starts looking for a boyfriend.”
Ayako strolled past her again without giving Akira as much as a glance. “I can’t promise anything, knowing her.” The blush remained as Ayako reached her station, turning away to inspect the new bottle, leaning over for the scanner. “See you then.”
“Wait a minute, you’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” Akira took a step toward the door outside and turned back as the scanner beeped again, this time without her assistance. “If I’m not wanted, I’ll just go see Keiko herself.”
“You do that.” The amused tone in Ayako’s voice cut through the sound of more pills falling into the sorting tray. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate another delinquent’s company.”
“I can’t believe you still haven’t quit!”
As the door to the alley swung open, the smell of cigarette smoke hit Akira’s nose. The light drizzle apparently wasn’t enough to deter Keiko, leaning close against the building for shelter, water dripping from the eaves into scattered puddles beyond. Lowering her skyward gaze, she grimaced and shook out her match. “I get enough of that talk from the other Moriis.”
“Then you’ll be glad to hear I’m on other business.” Stepping around a little rivulet, Akira leaned against the building beside her. “A case.”
Somehow, Keiko’s face found room to fall further. “Oh, no. I thought Ayako was joking. You need to settle down with her before this gets worse.” She looked back at the sky. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?”
“Some of us take the law seriously, Keiko. I heard you weren’t even wearing your seat belt the other day.”
“I was a little drunk,” Keiko whined. “And Ayako’s a nice pillow.” She took a draw on her cigarette. “It’s not like I was driving.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I know a good attorney. If you can give me some information about your daughter.”
Keiko stared at Akira blankly, lit cigarette hanging from her mouth. A few seconds later, she took it in hand and shook her head. “Could you at least wait until she graduates?”
“It’s nothing like that.” Akira put out her hands as if accused. Why did everybody make such weird assumptions about her, anyway? “I meant, has Rui been behaving … differently lately?”
“Sure, I guess.” Keiko leaned back against the wall. “Her favorite series got axed this month. And Jun’s on break, so they’ve been spending lots of time studying.”
That was certainly something Asuka hadn’t mentioned, and certainly had no reason to leave out. Keiko must have noticed Akira’s reaction, because she suddenly looked concerned. “Something wrong?”
“Nothing. Asuka was a little worried about her, with exams—”
“Oh, she’ll be fine.” Keiko’s expression softened. “Jun’s like our part-time private tutor. Except he takes my cooking instead of money. Couldn’t ask for a better arrangement.” She flicked ash off her cigarette. “Makes me feel really appreciated as a mother, you know?”
“Yeah. You don’t see that enough nowadays.” Pushing off from the wall, Akira started off towards the road. As she passed the ground-floor window, she called out to Keiko again, turning back to give a little wave. “See you tonight!”
It was only faintly audible, but she could hear Saya squealing from inside.
Akira and Yuuki hurriedly ducked into the dimly lit bushes adjoining the road as they heard the bicycle approach. Branches snapped against Akira’s face as she crawled across the damp ground, scrambling for the grass clearing beyond. Reaching it, the two crouched in silence, hoping the dusk had hid their approach.
Mercifully, the sound soon disappeared into the distance. Yuuki let out the breath she’d apparently been holding. “Maybe we should turn this … “ She gasped for air. “… into an all-night … stakeout!” She was really taking this seriously.
It would, though, have been a shame to meet trouble so close to their target, now just slightly beyond and across the road from where they sat. Frowning, Akira wiped dirt from her pant leg, damp from the grass. “You can, but I have plans in a couple hours.” She hadn’t really considered how disheveled she’d look after this. “I mean, even if we come back here, I can’t just sneak off—”
“Can’t you bring back something?” Yuuki interrupted. “I’m so hungry.” She pulled a twig out of her mouth—Akira wasn’t quite sure if it had made its way there as a consequence of their hastiness, or if Yuuki had just been gnawing on it. “Nothing that needs braising. I can’t wait any longer.”
“That’s not what a stakeout is.” Akira reached into her jacket and passed her a granola bar. “As soon as we’ve cracked this case, I’ll get you some dinner.”
“Yay—!“ Sparing no time, Yuuki crawled back into the bushes, pulling the night vision goggles down from her forehead.
“Second story,” Akira advised, falling in behind Yuuki so they could communicate at a whisper. “Keiko has to be gone by now, right?”
“No mothers detected,” Yuuki whispered back. “Or anyone else.” Silent, Yuuki scanned the building for movement. Akira was beginning to lose hope when the girl suddenly gasped and pointed. “No, there. Two in the back room. One’s laying down. Switching to visible light mode.” A faint click. “Aww, they moved. One was standing, and it wasn’t Keiko. Too tall. So unless she’s taking a nap in that bed …”
Akira lifted her binoculars from her neck and checked the windows, trying to determine where exactly Yuuki had been looking. “Is it the corner room?” She lowered her binoculars, searching for a landmark. “That’s Rui’s bedr—“
Catching something in her peripheral vision, she flinched away as Yuuki suddenly turned back to look at her, the bulky lenses of the goggles nearly whacking Akira in the side of the head. Yuuki pulled them up to her forehead and stared wordlessly at the older woman, deep suspicion in her eyes.
“I mean, I’ve been up there.” Akira assumed that was explanation enough, but Yuuki just continued staring. Akira rubbed her neck. “Not in her room. I’ve been over for dinner.” Looking up at the building, she reached for the camera, flipping open her satchel. “Let’s take some pictures for evidence and get out of here. I bet Asuka can—”
When she looked back, she found Yuuki had snuck off to the grass behind them, crouching over her backpack and unzipping it quietly. “Don’t you get what’s going on, Akira-chan?" Yuuki whispered. "We have to make them confess everything!”
“Who?” Akira’s eyes widened as Yuuki pulled out what looked like a bicycle pump, black and steel-framed. As Yuuki turned it over, Akira noticed it had two arms folded to its sides, the curves on the ends cutting an unmistakeable silhouette. A … crossbow? “Wait, how did you get that?”
“My beloved Sayaka gives me … “ Yuuki held it up in front of her to fiddle with something on the stock; a moment later, the arms of the crossbow snapped open. “Ten thousand yen for lunch every day.” She reached for the sturdy crank that sat roughly halfway up the stock, looking like the bulkier cousin of a fishing reel. Akira looked closer, curious, and noticed it was attached by way of a chunky steel box set in the frame, its sharp corners and size a little out of place against the bow’s relative litheness.
Holding the stock tight with her other hand, Yuuki began to turn the crank, a quiet ratcheting audible as it spun. Soon the small girl was wheezing, seemingly harnessing the entirety of what little upper body strength she possessed, but eventually the mechanism went silent, apparently primed. Yuuki sighed in relief. “You should really be more prepared, Akira-chan.”
“Prepared?” The reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on her. Asuka never got into this kind of trouble. “Wait, you’re not planning on … “
“You’re always so worried. It’s a hook, see?” Yuuki pointed it upright to show her, and indeed some claw-like device sat at the end, anchored to a thick cord. “I know how things work in the real world. No assassinations until high school.”
Giving the building one last glance, Yuuki scampered forward to a gap in the bushes almost directly across from the open window. After quickly scanning the street for onlookers, she aimed at the window and fired. The bow let out a muffled shunk as the tension released and the hook shot forward, soaring through the air and quickly disappearing over the window frame.
It was an impressive shot, Akira had to admit, and all those times she’d hear weird clanging noises from the street outside the office were beginning to make more sense. Apparently Yuuki’s aim had improved with practice. The small girl gave the line a little tug, then looked back at Akira, waving excitedly. Though Akira didn’t exactly trust her methodology, it did look relatively secure.
Then Yuuki turned the bow over, the last section of taut cord popping out of the stock along with the steel box with the crank. She could now pivot it freely, and orienting it towards the ground, Yuuki placed her right leg on the back side of one of the arms, her left still set on the ground. Yuuki’s hand found the crank, now hanging off the line, and she looked back at Akira, repeatedly pointing to herself and the building wall opposite.
Grabbing the line, Yuuki took a deep breath—then, in a flash, she was spinning the crank at a furious speed, both legs planted on the upside-down crossbow. The cord appeared to retract into the stock as she did so, pulling her forward and up towards the window, but Yuuki managed only to swing a few inches ahead before the entire contraption bottomed out against the dirt. The sudden deceleration nearly sent the girl faceplanting onto the street, but Yuuki just teetered, managing to keep her balance. Akira guessed Yuuki had not yet grasped trigonometry.
Panicking, Yuuki frantically attempted to reel herself further upwards—successfully swinging over her obstruction, she began to lazily rotate clockwise in an uncontrolled spin. When she’d cleared the street, she collided with the building’s wall and stumbled. Turning to look back at Akira, she rubbed her head, distress on her face.
Akira raised her binoculars, checking the window for any sign they'd been noticed. There were none, and that was a miracle, but if Yuuki started crying that would hardly matter. Swearing under her breath, she ducked and darted to where Yuuki had begun her stunt, then quickly crossed the street the more traditional way, pulling the device and Yuuki flush against the building’s wall on the way over.
“Shh, don’t cry.” Akira squeezed Yuuki’s hand. “You tried your best.”
“I thought it’d be really easy ‘cause I practiced so much,” Yuuki whispered, sniffling as she looked up at Akira. “And I’ve … never done the next part before. So I’m kind of … scared, Akira-chan.”
“You want me to do it?!”
“Eh, I guess.” Yuuki hopped off the contraption. “I heard it’s easy to get you to take the l—“
“Don’t talk about that here.” Akira carefully perched herself on the arms of the thing. “I really hope this isn’t just rated for your weight.” How much could that tiny girl even weigh? She bent down to lift Yuuki to her shoulders and was immediately met with the answer. Sitting piggyback, Yuuki fussily adjusted her position; the older woman let out a sharp breath through clenched teeth as one of those flailing legs collided with her chest. When the girl’s wobbling seemed to subside, Akira braced her body against the wall, clutched the line above her for support, and tentatively began to operate the crank as Yuuki had.
Somehow it still appeared to work, albeit at a slower and much choppier pace than Yuuki alone had managed, and the two steadily began to make their ascent. Akira’s free hand traced along the line as they rose, Yuuki’s outstretched arm maintaining a good distance from the wall, assumedly to avoid repeating her earlier mistake. Before long, it seemed Yuuki, sitting high on her shoulders, had spotted something through the window.
“I knew it!”
Akira heard the faint rustling of linens as the girl’s weight lifted from her shoulders, but anything more was drowned out by the sound of Yuuki scrambling through the open window, shoes scraping against the building directly above Akira’s ears. Briefly she considered whether it might be better to stay like this, dangling out of view from those above if not below, in lieu of involving herself further in Yuuki’s scheme.
Then she heard commotion from above, and it was all entirely too interesting to care. As she rose to roughly where Yuuki had been, she was able to peek over the window frame, and the scene came into view. Yuuki, hands on her hips; Jun, standing next to the bed with no pants on; and most interestingly Rui, head raised slightly off her pillow and staring blankly at Yuuki. She was seemingly unperturbed by the intrusion, the only sign she’d reacted at all was the thin book splayed open over her bare chest, a page inelegantly curled under. By contrast, the opposite side of the comforter lay in a rumpled mess. Clearly, someone had gotten out of bed in a hurry.
Unsure how to proceed, Akira tried to look as casual as one could manage while standing on a precarious platform outside a second story window, crossing her arms over the window frame. “Hey.”
Jun’s gaze had been fixed on Yuuki, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed Akira. Flushed, he held his pants over his torso, seemingly trying to preserve some modesty. “You! Did my mom put you up to this?!”
“Oh, yeah.” Akira lifted a hand, waving it to the side in explanation. “Keiko was—“
“No, it was Asuka, wasn’t it?” Jun pointed at her, accusatory. “Why aren’t you investigating that weird mothercon herself?!”
“What’s to investigate?” Akira asked, confused. “That’s pretty normal behavior, right?”
“It’s not! At all!” Shaking, Jun struggled to put his pants on. “And then … you’re acting like this”—he gestured frantically to Rui, then back to himself—”is worse than … than breaking and entering?!”
Yuuki slowly shook her head. “I think you will find, mon ami,” she said patiently, eyes closed, “that Akira-chan has neither broken nor entered, that Hanamura Yuuki is nothing but a mischievously unprosecutable middle schooler, and that you have no desire in any case to recount to the authorities what had been occurring in this room when you were discovered.” Yuuki stuck out her tongue. “Also, my whole family is super rich!”
“Whatever!” Jun’s unbuttoned pants fell from his waist, and he quickly bent to catch them before they made their way to his ankles. “You shouldn’t just interfere with our private—“
“Who said anything about that?” Akira asked flatly. The only really surprising part of the whole affair was that she’d always just kind of assumed Jun was gay. “I don’t care what you’re doing. This is about Rui’s academic performance.”
Rui fell back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling, letting out a sigh. “I’m fiiine.”
“Good enough for me.” Akira uncrossed her arms from the window frame and grabbed onto the line again, her other hand lightly grasping the window edge for balance. “Have fun, you two.” She reeled herself down slightly, then stopped and looked up at Jun through the window. “And don’t tell your mom about this.”
She winked, and soon the whole affair was out of view, the descent much speedier than fighting gravity. All that remained now was the cool evening breeze blowing through her hair, paired with the equally pleasant feeling of a job unexpectedly well done. She had to admit Yuuki’s approach was a lot more fun—Akira had always assumed the exciting part would be the clandestine evidence gathering, the intricate deduction. Piling a dozen people into a parlor room, recounting how she’d come to identify the true criminal, maybe becoming recognized as a particularly brilliant crime-solver.
Akira wasn’t sure she’d ever actually seen a parlor room with her own eyes, but besides that, they really did have the funds to delve into cases more deeply than she’d ever imagined. Visions of flying down Swiss ski slopes flashed through her mind: doggedly chasing the culprit and pilfered disc of Hanamuraya intellectual property; Yuuki expertly skiing backwards behind her, raking pursuing henchmen with gunfire. On Her Mommy’s Secret Service, or something like that. A little more glamour, a little more adventure—maybe that girl had the right idea after all.
The contraption hit the ground with a thud, and Akira’s daydream faded, replaced by the strange feeling she’d forgotten something important.
“You know, Yuuki, I’ve been thinking about what Jun said.” The car slowed as the one ahead turned into the restaurant parking lot, its headlights tracing an arc through the night. Idly drumming her fingers on the wheel, Akira signaled for their own left turn. “Asuka likes her mom. You like your mom. Even your mom likes her mom. You don’t seem to like your mom’s mom like that, but I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“I like Sumika.” Yuuki loudly munched on the last remnants of her second granola bar from the passenger seat. Even with food moments away, she’d begged Akira for another, like she was genuinely concerned about starving in the meantime. Giving in was an inexpensive apology. “She gives me better snacks than you do.”
“You know I can’t compete with Hanamuraya. But it’s not about the snacks, Yuuki. It’s about the moms.” The suspension rocked as the car turned into the parking lot, jolting Akira out of contemplation. Yuuki was perceptive enough—perhaps Akira just needed to lay out the dilemma more directly. “I mean, you know I don’t have a problem with any of it, but don’t you think it’s all a little … strange? Like, maybe more than coincidence?“
“Not really. Moms are pretty.” Holding the foil wrapper in the air, Yuuki looked up into it as if it might hold some errant crumbs. If it had, they were probably on the floor by now. “And, I mean, it’s Reiwa.”
“Yeah. I guess it is.” The brake lights of the car ahead faded as it crept forward; Akira pulled ahead to the speaker, rolling down her window. Maybe she was just getting too old, jumping at shadows. Yuuki and Asuka were almost the same age, and polar opposites by any other metric. Akira brought the car to a stop, and immediately Yuuki was between her and the steering wheel, leaning as far toward Akira’s window as possible, the passenger seat creaking as the small girl shifted back and forth with excitement.
“I’ll have number 1 … through number 8!”
Akira grumbled. They really were cut from the same cloth.