That wasn’t right at all.
“Aww, jeez! What is wrong with you people! Gamota! I’m going upstairs! As punishment, you watch the store! I’m out of tequila! Sheesh!”
It didn’t feel quite fair to make me do it, but Master Izumin left the store, shoulders shaking with anger. There was a small café/bar on the floor upstairs, run by a different owner. That one wasn’t open during the day, so I’d never been there.
“I’ll go too!”
Ryotasu followed Master Izumin, and it was just me and the cosplaying middle school boy, and we were still laughing.
I laughed so much all the dark emotions I’d felt over the last week disappeared.
It felt like it had been a long, long time.
And for that, I needed to thank him.
He offered me the fully loaded lucky drink once more.
“Here, you should take a drink. Just a sip.”
“No way.” I knew it tasted like barf. I wasn’t going to drink it.
We’d been repeating that same exchange for a while now, and it was still funny. At this point, everything we said seemed funny.
“You know, you look just like Zenigata, man. If that’s cosplay, it’s barf-inducing.”
“Cosplay, huh? That’s my barf-dream.”
“Sometimes you get girls who are barfy-cute at cosplay conventions. I keep trying to get Ryotasu to do it.”
“I’ve been to Comiket. I bought some barfy doujin.”
“What’s a barfy doujin? Ahahah. I don’t think I want to know, do I?”
“By the way, it’s barfy-hot in here. Aren’t you hot in that?”
“I’m barfy-fine.”
“I hear if someone rips out your molar, it barfy-hurts.”
“Barfff—?!”
What?
What did he just say?
“By the way, this isn’t cosplay. This is my uniform.” The cosplaying middle school boy was still laughing as he took what looked like a notebook out of his jacket pocket and showed it to me. It was something I’d only ever seen on police shows on TV.
A police notebook...
“You were just thinking that you’re in barfy-trouble, weren’t you? So, I’ll ask again. Have you ever pulled out someone’s molar?”
“Th-The police...” I’d let my guard down!
Hahhahh hahh...
I’d let my guard down...!
I could barely breathe.
‘Had I ever pulled out a molar?’ He knew everything! He wasn’t a middle-schooler! He wasn’t a cosplayer! He was a real detective, just like I’d first thought! I’d been fooled by his appearance! I’d been an idiot to open up to him!
“Oh? Are we done with the barf stuff? Because you look like you’re about to barf. What’s wrong, Yuta Gamon, Student Number 3 in Class 2-B at Seimei High?”
“...!”
He was here to arrest me!
My teeth started to chatter. I bit down on my molars to make them stop.
This was bad. This was really bad. Sarai wasn’t here yet. Sarai wasn’t here to testify to my innocence! Even though I was here alone with a detective! Why had Master Izumin and Ryotasu and Myu-Pom and Sarai all left me alone?! Someone, anyone, come and help me! At this rate, I’d be arrested! I’d be taken to the police station and it would be over! They’d lock me in a room and interrogate me, alternating between feeding me katsudon and cussing me out in some cliche good-cop bad-cop routine until I confessed to a crime I didn’t commit!
I needed to escape somehow.
But—
Then I realized.
I’d thought that this detective had come here alone. But did he, really?
What if there were a bunch of tough-looking detectives outside, waiting for me? Maybe there were dozens of cop cars lined up on the street outside. When that idea flashed through my mind, I couldn’t move another step.
“It wasn’t... me...”
“What are you talking about?”
“It wasn’t me...!”
“This conversation’s turning barfy. I just asked if you’d ever pulled a molar out. I’m going to a dentist to get my wisdom teeth removed. And I bet it hurts like barf. I’ve always hated dentists...”
He was lying. Wisdom teeth, my ass. He was laughing the whole time, but his eyes weren’t laughing at all.
“So if you’ve ever pulled out a molar, I’d like you to tell me how it went. I mean, you and I are barf-brothers, right? Hahaha.”
There was no way I could laugh.
Sweat was pouring out of my body.
I couldn’t breathe. If I breathed, it felt like he’d accuse me.
I looked frantically for an exit, but I couldn’t think.
All I could do was retreat into a world of fantasy and think about how nice it would be if I could teleport.
Just when I was about to give up—
“I’m back, Gamotan! Ryotasu went with me, so I got a little present! Look at this delicious chiffon cake!”
Ryotasu and Master Izumin were back.
At the same time they came in, the detective put a rumpled 1000-yen bill on the table and stood up.
“!!” I gasped.
“Anyway, I have to get going.
“...?”
Going? Where? I couldn’t look at his face. All I could do was stare at my feet and pray that nothing happened, and that he didn’t take me away.
“Oh, what’s wrong, Gamota-kun? You’re soaking with sweat,” asked Master Izumin.
“Pu-♪ u-♪ ru? Pu-♪ u-♪ ru? Pu-♪ u-♪ ru-♪ da-♪ pu-♪ u-♪ ru?” Ryotasu was singing the Puuru Song, or perhaps the Pool Song, as she danced.
But of course, I couldn’t join in.
“I’m glad I got to have a barfy-chat with you today.”
“...”
The detective headed for the exit.
He wasn’t going to arrest me? Why not?
“Sir, I’ve left the money for the barfy-latte on the table.”
“Stop calling it ‘barfy’! I’ve never had someone insult my drinks like that. It hurts.”
“Hahaha. Sorry. I’m an honest person.” The detective laughed in a loud voice.
He turned back to me and waved a little.
“See you again,” he said, and he left.
He really left.
I waited over ten minutes, and he never came back.
“Am I... safe...? Or did he let me go...?”
“Poya-ya?” Ryotasu tilted her head and made a noise like an idiot. But I’d never been so happy to see her empty-headed face before.
I finally stopped feeling nervous, and suddenly felt very tired.
What was that detective thinking?
“But still...”
That strange way he talked, like he was making fun of you, and the way he tried to trick you into saying things... I thought I’d heard it somewhere before.
Yeah, somewhere...
“Myu-Pom’s Nicco-Nico Live Fortune-Telling?!”