Shizuku Teardrop. She always wore a hood, and her outfits never showed any skin. Stockings or tights were a must, whether she was wearing boys’ trousers or a skirt, and her hands were never not in gloves. A violin case was slung over her shoulder, and neutral, silver hair spilled from her hood, catching the eye. Her dark yellow eyes were constantly half-closed, but that somehow only enhanced her charm. She was short for a sixteen-year-old girl and unfortunately underdeveloped, but that too was part of her unique charm. Norman was meeting her at the fountain square in the heart of the Bardium residential district. The weather was nice, but since it was a weekday, only a few families with children and couples were out enjoying themselves. Coaches and the automobiles favored lately by the wealthy filled the roads, the latter belching out black exhaust that lingered in the air. From the shadow of a passing carriage, Shizuku appeared. She crossed the road and walked toward Norman in front of the fountain. It suddenly struck him there was something wrong with seeing Shizuku in the peaceful park. “She looks good in the sunny weather, though.” “Is that a jab at my hood?” From her small, slightly hunched frame to her head-to-toe coverage, she walked like someone outside of time and space, without a place to belong. Like a flower refusing to blossom, staying a bud in the darkness and rejecting the light. She looked like she might wilt and disappear if left alone. “You’re late, Shizuku. Don’t worry, though, I just got here myself.” “Huh?” Her voice was clear, but it carried a listless tone laced with faint irritation. Norman tilted his head at the unexpected reaction, his ponytail shifting with the slight movement. “Hm, that’s weird. I thought you said that no matter how long you’ve been waiting, you’re supposed to say, ‘I just got here’?” “That’s for when you’re early. If you say that when the person you’re meeting is also late, it makes you look late, Norman.” “Oh, you’re right.” “Geez…” Shizuku sighed from beneath her hood—it was a blend of exasperation, wry amusement, and a hint of joy. “Well, whatever. Sorry for being late. But why pick here to meet?” Shizuku asked. “I don’t think it’s a bad spot. Seems like a classic meeting place.” “‘Seems like’? Have you actually met someone here before?” “Nope. I rarely have business out here.” “Right. I don’t either, which is why I got lost.” “I still knew this was a popular meeting spot.” “Of course you know things I don’t, Norman.” “…I guess.” Shizuku Teardrop. It was probably no surprise that she was a recluse. By sixteen, most young ladies of the merchant or noble class would be finishing school, while the poor ones would already be working or married. But she wasn’t a student, she wasn’t married, and she didn’t work, instead spending most of her time holed up in her lodgings, playing her violin for fun—a girl who was more pitiful than eccentric. But no one would ever guess that by looking at her. Norman shrugged and said, “Let’s get going.” He started walking. Shizuku gave no reply but fell into step next to him, keeping a fist’s width between them. “So?” Her cold glance pierced him. Norman didn’t answer, instead pulling out a file from inside his coat and handing it to her. Shizuku took it without a word. Inside were a number of documents and photos—the first thing she saw was a photo of what seemed to be a smiling noblewoman. “Who’s this?” “Mary Wallwood. Shipping company CEO. A shrewd businesswoman who took over her husband’s company when he died five years ago and turned it into a success.” “How old?” “She’s thirty-five.” “You mean she was thirty-five.” She flipped through the photos with uncaring, bored movements. One showed Mary Wallwood’s corpse—a shocking sight for most—but Shizuku’s expression didn’t change a bit as she closed the file. “To run a successful shipping company at that age, she must’ve been a skilled businesswoman.” “You’d have to be, surrounded by a ridiculously high wall like that.” Norman looked up toward the sky, and Shizuku did the same. Ahead of them stood a giant wall. True to its name, Bardium Walled City was surrounded by an enormous wall on all sides. Even at a brisk pace, it took a full day to walk from one end to the other. There was a conspicuously tall tower in the city center, but even that was dwarfed by the wall. Norman couldn’t fathom the amount of time and effort that had gone into constructing such an enormous barrier. He’d arrived in the city a year and a half ago, but since he wasn’t interested in its history, he’d never bothered checking. However… “There’s no wind in this city.” Wind seemed like something that could blow anywhere. There was a bit of a breeze, but hardly anything that could truly be called wind. It felt like the city had been cut off from the rest of the world. Shizuku shrugged. “That’s normal for those of us who were born here.” “The city’s in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not like we can just leave. There’s no need to anyway. We have everything here.” “Still, there are things you can’t get here. You have to rely on imports for those, which is why shipping companies are so crucial.” “Well, I’m a shut-in, so I don’t really care either way.” “In a way, being a shut-in means you’re especially blessed by those companies…” “Anyway!” She shoved the file back at him with a thwap. “We finally see each other again, and we just talk business?” “Well, that’s my job.” “An illegal one.” “Oh please…” Just then, a gentleman passed by. He was a young man wearing an expensive-looking tailcoat and silk hat, probably a noble or the like. He paused mid-stride after unexpectedly hearing the petite girl say illegal. Norman smiled and quickly smoothed things over. “Oh, we’re talking about a mystery novel.” “Ah…I see. That would make the young lady your assistant, then.” With an elegant smile, the gentleman gave a slight bow and walked away. “…Assistant?” Shizuku asked, closing the distance again—he hadn’t even noticed she’d taken a step back. “Not familiar with it? It’s a mystery novel that was all the rage some years ago. The royal capital went crazy for it, and even in Bardium last year, everyone was reading it.” “Who’s ‘everyone’?” “…I guess everyone besides you and me.” “I wouldn’t know. Reading a bunch of words gives me a headache.” That was one of the last things Norman had expected to hear from a cool, downcast beauty like her. “And?” “It’s a story about an ace detective who solves cases and his assistant who gets swept up in the chaos.” “Hee-hee-hee…pfft.” Shizuku stared at the ground with a slight grin. It was a little strange seeing a young girl chuckle to herself like that. “If that’s the case, wouldn’t you be the assistant, Norman?” “…I guess.” “Pfft. Hee-hee.” Apparently, she found the idea hilarious, because her whole body was shaking from all the giggling. “…What I found most memorable about the book was how the assistant, despite constantly complaining, stuck with the eccentric detective through thick and thin.” “Hee-hee-hee…pfft… You really are the assistant, Norman!” She was laughing even harder now. Norman didn’t know why, but he wasn’t very happy about it. “Phew. Sorry, that was rude of me. After all, you never complain, Norman.” “I don’t…? I guess not…” “No. Even if you did, I wouldn’t care.” “Why, you…” “Hee-hee-hee!” Her still-shaking body brushed slightly against Norman as she smiled. “Shall we go, my assistant? There’s nothing fun about murder cases, you know.” “An ace detective wouldn’t say that.” Probably. After a thirty-minute walk, they found themselves at the Wallwood estate, a luxurious two-story mansion. The scene of the murder was the owner Mary’s room, and it was similarly grand. In the center, there was a work desk with neatly packed bookshelves and file organizers lining the wall. If anything, there were more files and binders than there were books. Two windows, both big enough for a person to fit through, let natural light flood in. Near the ceiling, there was a single, small air vent. They sank into the plush carpet with every step. Norman thought it was a nice room. That was, except for the fact the work desk had been split clean in half and covered in blood splatters. Norman took out the file and compared it to the crime scene photo of Mrs. Mary Wallwood in her nightgown. In the photo, Mary’s body—her chest, to be precise—was crushed between the two halves of the desk. Bone had pierced flesh, and her internal organs were undoubtedly ruptured. Even if someone had sat her down at the work desk and brought down a massive hammer of steel or something similar, that still wouldn’t explain how this had happened. The sturdy desk had been completely destroyed. “I see.” “Well, Hamish?” It wasn’t Shizuku who spoke. It was a tall, thin man wearing a moss-green coat and a black suit, both quite worn. His hair was cut short, but it seemed more for convenience than appearance’s sake. He wasn’t bad-looking, but his tired expression and the bags under his eyes probably didn’t endear him with many women. His name was Harrison Leonard. He was an investigator with the Bardium police and an old acquaintance of Norman. In fact, Harrison’s haggard look made Norman secretly worried about him every time they met. “Well?” Norman shrugged. “I got nothing.” “I wasn’t exactly waiting on your deductions.” The man’s words exuded dismissal and irritation. “I’m asking if you understand the situation.” “Oh yeah, more or less. You’ve got a corpse, a broken desk, and…” Shizuku stood sullenly and quietly in the corner. Just beyond her was the one entrance to the room. There must have been a door there, but in its sorry state, it was just an entryway. “A broken door. What about the windows?” “It was confirmed the door was locked at the time of the incident.” “I see. All that’s left is an air vent, maybe big enough for a mouse to squeeze through.” “Meaning…” “We have a locked-room mystery on our hands, with an obviously unnatural corpse. Naturally, the culprit and method are unknown.” “That’s why I called you here.” “I thought as much.” Harrison nodded with a grim expression. He didn’t want to rely on them, but he had no choice. This wasn’t due to incompetence on his part, nor was he ignoring police protocol or the law by handing over a murder case to civilians for independent investigation. This was Norman and Shizuku’s job: to solve cases that defied ordinary logic. Crimes committed in ways that were seemingly impossible. Injuries and corpses that boggled the mind. Phenomena possible only through magic or miracles. Crimes no human should have been capable of yet happened anyway. “These sorts of cases fall under your jurisdiction, don’t they, Detective?” Harrison said. “I know that’s what you call Cartesius investigators, but that just doesn’t sit right with me.” “Yeah, well, your organization isn’t exactly public knowledge. To any cop who isn’t a go-between like me, you lot are just some punks who waltz into crime scenes and do whatever they please. It’s simpler to just call you Detective.” “Hmm, I won’t deny that.” “Get to work. I’ll speak to the estate staff. They’re suspicious of you two.” “Tell them a legendary detective is on the case.” “Not funny.” Harrison shrugged and left the room. The officer seemed accustomed to his antics. “…I thought that one was pretty good.” “Face it, Norman. Your jokes aren’t funny.” Shizuku finally spoke, taking a jab at him. She stared at the exit Harrison had left through and muttered, “He’s as lazy as ever. Not as bad as you, though.” “He’s not lazy. The man just knows his role. Calling us over means he’ll handle explaining things to the police and everyone else who’s involved while establishing clear jurisdictions to give us room to work.” “Whatever.” Shizuku clearly didn’t care. At her core, she had little interest in the world. “Should we get started?” “Let’s.” Shizuku grabbed one of the fingertips of her right glove with her mouth and pulled out her hand. Glove still in her mouth, she also removed the left and offered her hand to Norman, who took it gently. Shizuku’s hand was so thin, soft, and small, he feared it might break if he squeezed too hard. They went up to the bisected desk and felt its underside with their free hands. Shizuku took a deep breath and murmured softly, “Echo Howling: Vision.” In that moment, Norman and Shizuku’s reality shifted. Norman and Shizuku heard echoes bouncing, and an image began to take shape: The study. The door and windows, locked shut. The desk untouched. Dressed in her nightgown, Mary Wallwood was slumped against it, petrified. Her body trembled, and her expression was rigid. In her eyes, fear, doubt, amazement, and denial. Mary screamed and was crushed the next instant. Her chest caved in, and the well-built desk was split in two. It was an absurd spectacle. No human could be responsible. This must have been the work of a monster. “Gh—!” Shizuku gasped as though she was having a seizure, and reality shifted again. “Haaah…haaah…” Norman waited while she cradled her head and calmed down. He held her by the shoulders to steady her. Magic and miracles didn’t exist in this world. What did exist was reality, logic, ordinary humans, and something called “Unlaw.” They were things that lurked, transformed, deviated, and distorted. They were monsters that resembled humans and were capable of so much more. Shizuku was one of those individuals, and her ability was known as Echo Howling. She could harness that ability to use Vision, which granted her the power to “read” and “see” the thoughts of whatever she touched. Norman had initially assumed she was sensing psychic imprints, but from what she’d told him, that wasn’t accurate. Very rarely, Vision activated on its own, allowing her to see glimpses of the future. This ruled out a need for lingering memories of past events. Visions could happen deliberately or through accidental contact. This made Shizuku incredibly careful with what she touched. Gloves, especially, were a necessity to avoid inadvertently seeing visions. For her own sanity, she kept her distance from others and generally avoided conversations. With a single touch, she could see echoes of the past or future. It was an ability that defied the laws of nature. That was precisely why people like her were called Unlaw. Shizuku Teardrop, wielder of Tear Blossom, Reverb. Incidentally, her visions could be shared with others via touch. Norman’s job was to work with Unlaw like her to investigate supernatural incidents, though he’d never seen her share a vision with anyone else. “Are you all right, Shizuku?” “Yes, more or less. That said…” She sighed and shook her head to clear it. Thanks to her ability, she was often dragged out to the crime scenes of baffling murders since her visions would instantly identify the culprit. Cases that seemed impossible at a glance often turned out to be the result of extraordinary efforts taken by the culprits. However, in this case… “I couldn’t see the suspect.” “Thought as much.” …her vision hadn’t revealed the criminal. More to the point, Vision couldn’t detect Unlaw. “So the question is, what sort of Unlaw are we facing?” Instead of replying, Shizuku put her gloves back on and fished out a piece of candy. She was clearly more interested in carefully unwrapping her chocolate than she was in solving this case. “Figuring that out is your job.” “…I was kind of hoping you’d show us what an ace detective really looked like,” Norman said. What was he supposed to do with a completely apathetic detective (who could solve this case with ease if she put her mind to it)? Setting aside the question of whether Shizuku Teardrop was the detective or the assistant, information gathering fell under Norman’s purview.
Chapter 4
14 min read