He was a young man and had been in the video explaining the project; the captions had said he was a doctor of genetic something.
It didn’t seem like the doctor had met the comedian before, so they exchanged cards, laughed, and talked for a minute, and then the doctor turned right around and made a beeline for us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl straightening herself up.
“Hi,” he said, so I responded in kind. I remembered introducing myself to him once at another party.
He was tall and built like an athlete but easily pulled off that English-brand-name suit. The watch peeking out of his sleeve was totally a casual digital model from the I just need to know the time school of thought. He had a face that could mingle freely with the lead cast of a soap and a breezy smile to match. He was a doctor and a genetic researcher, the young hope of the industry, and…he’s single.
He remembered me, too, and explained his role in the project with smiles, charm, and even a little wit, subtly emphasizing just how important he actually was. He asked a couple of very specific questions about my high school that seemed like genuine interest, and his replies were impressively apt. Then he turned to the girl next to me, his smile somewhat strained.
“Not having a good time?” he asked. “You’ve been diligently avoiding looking my way.”
She let out a breath like a silent whistle and turned toward him.
“I’m fine.”
“Sure. I’m a bit wound-up, I admit. Both because I’m able to take part in this project and because I got to meet you.”
“You don’t say.”
“I do say.”
I must have let it show on my face, because she shot me a glare and then emptied the glass in her hand.
He asked if she wanted a refill or anything to eat, demonstrating consideration, and then swiftly set off. A few seconds later, a few servers carried a round dining table over to us—presumably, at the doctor’s request. They refilled both our drinks and left the bottles, at which point, he showed back up, moving like he worked for a five-star restaurant, food piled high on platters in each hand.
He put the platters down and thanked the servers nicely. I dunno how many other drink refills required them to deliver tables, but they bowed professionally and quickly scattered across the room.
The doctor had a glass of mineral water, and he lifted it, cajoling us into a toast. This whole thing was so flawlessly theatrical that I totally played along.
The girl forced herself to look displeased and made a show of raising her glass reluctantly, but she still dinged her carbonated beverage on his glass.
She was being a hella obvious tsun before dere, and I just smirked at her.
“Tsuruya, are you remembering better times?” she asked, like she didn’t know perfectly well what my grin meant. So unconvincing. Nobody would possibly buy this smirk as nostalgia.
I started to wonder if I was just getting in their way and if maybe I should quietly make myself scarce, so I glanced his way, but the look he shot back said that wouldn’t be necessary. I read it as actually preferring I stuck around.
In that case, I was definitely gonna stand right here and enjoy the show.
Best to start by trying to remember what lay between these two.
Well, I knew she had a number of suitors.
And the young doc here was probably a primo candidate.
I didn’t have a handle on what her dad was thinking, but I had it figured he was arranging for decent men to coincidentally pop up around her and seeing if she bit. And he wasn’t just watching his daughter, but the guys. What did they talk about, how did they respond—I bet every word was gone over with a fine-tooth comb. So voyeuristic.
Which meant Mr. Doctor was not on this project by chance.
But she knew all that perfectly well. She knew her parents had the spotlight on him, so she’d stuck to the shade. But each time they met, he slowly pried her heart open—total cliché, right? That’s what it looked like from where I stood anyway.
“There’s a few things left out of the video I’d love to fill you in on,” he said. “The most revolutionary part of this research is…”
Dr. Suitor explained his part of the project clearly, with smart turns of phrase, incorporating comparisons that made it so even a junior high school kid could have understood it. It was like having a really top-notch science article read out loud; the knowledge just poured into your brain. If he were a professor, people would be lining up to get into his classes.
His conversation led us down many side paths, from politics, economics, and sports to the latest viral videos. He was great at holding your interest and did it with just enough humor to get me laughing any number of times.
Meanwhile, she was extremely busy looking away, slowly glancing back at him, and quickly averting her eyes when they met his.
He was talking to both of us equally, but his eyes were almost always on her profile. Like he was pitching words right at the beautiful curve of her ear.
They seemed good together, I guess. Not that I’m any judge.
“What’s fascinating is that this whole concept started out as an attempt to maximize conservation of energy in a GPS tracker. But by applying that to the entirely different field of genetic engineering…”
Just as he was getting particularly heated up, someone called his name.
A colleague of his was headed our way.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Come say hello.”
The colleague turned to us.
“Ladies, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to borrow him a minute.”
“Go right ahead. No need to get my permission.”
“Er, you’re sure? Then I’ll happily take him!”
The doctor winced and said, “Shouko, see you later.”
He walked away. It was a big room, and there were lots of people here. He was soon lost in the crowd.
She let out a little breath that could be read as just about any emotion under the sun and moistened her lips with the long-since-flat contents of her glass.
For a little while, the two of us talked about nothing in particular.
We could fill any amount of time just catching up.
We also munched on the food he’d brought us. As suspected, I didn’t care for it.
I told her a few stories from the new school year and got a big laugh out of her on a Mikuru one.
She wanted to go independent as soon as possible, trying not to ride on her parents’ coattails, and told me about the shop she was planning on operating.
Stuff like that always made me wonder about my own plans. Should I take over the family business or not? Part of me wanted to set off on my own on a new journey instead of just follow after my dad. Maybe I should take a day sometime and just stare up at the sky, thinking about my future.
A good fifteen minutes after he’d left us, I noticed she was checking her watch with increased frequency.
Then I heard a little shriek from somewhere. I was sure I had.
But the hum of the crowd around us was loud enough that neither the girl nor anyone else had noticed.
I said I needed to hit the can, then left her there.
I headed toward the voice, and as I left the hall, I found a hotel employee running out of another door, looking quite beside themselves.
This was an antechamber adjacent to the party hall.
I stepped in the open door and found several small tables with a bunch of chairs around them.
Since the main room was standing room only, this area was for people who wanted to sit a spell.
I soon spotted the problem.
Someone was lying on the carpet.
I ran over, and it was him. The young doctor we’d been talking to not fifteen minutes ago.
He was lying faceup with his eyes closed.
There was blood from the back of his head, staining the carpet.
I found more blood on the edge of a nearby table. He’d probably hit his head there. I found it hard to imagine he’d done that voluntarily.
Then I heard a groan. Good, he was alive.
Moving didn’t seem like a good idea, so I knelt down next to him. His eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t breathing right. I loosened his tie a bit.
You okay? I mean, I can see you aren’t, but…
One question on my mind.
Who did this?
He looked up at me. He moved his lips, and a painful breath emerged.
I leaned my ear closer, and the hotel staff came flooding in. The cloakroom lady and the concierge and someone who looked like the owner. They all looked horrified. At the back of the crowd was the staff member who’d gone running off. He had a first aid kit with him.
“Ungh…”
The doctor finally focused his eyes on something—the staff member. Or more accurately, he was looking at the first aid kit. When the staff member moved closer and put the box down, his eyes followed it.
He was trying to say something. What? The answer to my question?
Face screwed up in pain, he nodded slightly. His voice barely a whisper, he said, “Don’t swallow…”
Huh? Say that again?”
“…Do not…ingest…”
That’s what I thought I heard anyway.
But with that, he passed out.
The rest was a big uproar. Other partygoers started pushing their way in. Someone must have told the girl, and she rushed over, saw her potential fiancé covered in blood, and fainted. It felt like ages before the ambulance crew arrived.
Long story short, he suffered some lacerations from a blow to the back of the head but lived to tell the tale. They did thorough tests to be sure but found no lasting damage to his brain.
Naturally, he hadn’t clumsily tripped and hit his head. He’d been grappling with the culprit, been knocked off-balance, and hit his head on the way down.
So this was an assault case.
Feels like a long journey to get us here.
But at last, I can present you all with the problem.
Only one thing I want from you.
Guess the culprit’s name.
That’s it!
Oh, and just to be clear, the staff member with the first aid kit was just the first on the scene. Not that that’s much of a hint.
When I think it’s time, I’ll send you a better hint. Bye!