“Thank you very much. We hope to have the pleasure of your custom again in the future─it has been an honor to host the illustrious members of the Pretty Boy Detective Club.”
With that polite farewell straight from the mouth of the maestro, we returned to the art room at Yubiwa Academy.
Although we’d succeeded to some extent in our secret investigation en route to that ignominious exit, it felt more like a rout than a job well done.
At least, it would be mighty difficult to consider the phone number that the kind bunny girl slipped into my hand as we were leaving a full success.
The delinquent had suffered a particularly devastating loss, what with blowing all his cash, but the other members had each lost their thousand yen, too (if you did the math, they were actually only nine hundred and ninety-nine yen in the hole), and Sakiguchi had been humiliated on stage in front of a full house.
Of course, considering the age of his fiancée, life itself might be a humiliation for him, but that doesn’t mean an additional layer of shame would have no impact─and as his fellow club member, I couldn’t help being furious.
If he’d lost fair and square, I could have brushed it off as the risk inherent in games and gambling, but this was far from fair and square.
It was a scam.
If Fudatsuki had used the card-peeking to engineer a fair, fifty-fifty fight for the sake of a good show, I could maaaybe accept that. But all the ups and downs had led to a massive haul for the casino.
Their profits were huge.
Simply put, they were playing dirty.
Such unfairness made the words “playful spirit” ring hollow─and made the gorgeous, even hedonistic casino look like nothing more than a flimsy, ostentatious veneer.
Fudatsuki made pretty speeches, but I guess in the end all he cared about was profit.
I wanted to give up.
I felt like they were using, even exploiting, people’s playful spirit─and I had to face the fact that the million-yen bundle of cash had held none of the boyish spirit or aesthetic excellence we’d initially seen in it.
…But questions still remained.
By beating Sakiguchi in the winner-take-all onstage showdown, the casino had avoided losing money and made some extra profit from the crowd, but not even that seemed like enough to cover the expense of such an over-the-top establishment.
Sure, they probably saved some money on rent by using the school gym… But the electricity bill from the slot machines alone must be huge.
And more than anything, who was that kuroko?
If they had a veritable “Invisible Man” on staff, the casino couldn’t lose─and it wasn’t just the onstage show; the kuroko could get involved in all the games.
I happened to take my glasses off at that moment, but if I’d had them off from the start, I might have seen the black figure acting in secret all over the casino.
Chance or luck had nothing to do with it.
Fudatsuki could engineer all the amusing games and hair-raising, pulse-pounding showdowns he wanted.
He could hook his guests on gambling far more deeply than a normal casino.
He could probably do whatever he wanted.
But the very idea of an invisible kuroko wandering the casino smacked of fantasy─something that belonged in a sci-fi story, not a mystery novel.
Kurokos of the theater world succeed on the basis of a tacit agreement with the audience that they’re “invisible” or “nonexistent”─in other words, even though they’re visible, the audience pretends they’re not.
But not this one.
No doubt about it, this kuroko really was invisible─to everyone but me.
When I checked with the other members of the club, it wasn’t just Fukuroi: Mr. Bare-Legs, the child genius, the leader─not to mention Sakiguchi, the one whose cards were being spied on─all confirmed that they hadn’t seen the kuroko.
“Ha ha ha. It’s exactly like the Emperor’s New Clothes!” Sotoin exclaimed, sinking into the art room sofa. “The kuroko was wearing invisible clothes, I assume? And our young Dojima was the only one sharp enough to see through the farce and call out, ‘The emperor is naked!’─she hasn’t lost the innocent heart of a young boy!”
I blushed.
Did that mean I fulfilled Rule #2 of the Pretty Boy Detective Club (Be a boy)?
But even if the kuroko had been wearing “invisible clothes,” I still hadn’t been able to see the person underneath.
“By the way,” the delinquent said, setting our tea and supper of yakisoba on the table. “In the original version of the Emperor’s New Clothes, after the kid points out that the emperor is naked, the parade continues. So even though he’s right, everyone ignores him because he’s a kid, and because he’s in the minority. Pretty damn thought-provoking for a children’s story, if you ask me.”
Huh, I never knew that.
The delinquent is surprisingly cultured.
Or maybe that’s just basic knowledge for a satirist who can whip up a pan of yakisoba in the blink of an eye.
Anyway, I don’t exactly view myself as an innocent child─and if a boyish heart was what it took to see the kuroko’s clothes, then it should have been the other members of the Pretty Boy Detective Club who saw them, not a twisted individual like me.
Which meant this wasn’t an abstract question of attitude.
This person was physically invisible─like a puff of air, in a very real sense.
Actually, no.
There was nothing physical or real about it─who could have imagined I’d see something like that?
“Well, to tell you the truth…” Just then, Sakiguchi interrupted my thoughts. “I knew from the start─and I was expecting something like this to happen.”
“…”
I couldn’t help looking at our eminently worthy student council president with more doubt than ever before─who would actually say something like that?
Although I’ll admit that his comment was rather detective-like.
Still, for someone who’d suffered such total defeat on stage, it couldn’t even pass as sour grapes.
It seemed all the more flagrantly ridiculous coming from such a beautiful boy─but then again, even when he suffered that humiliating defeat in front of all those people and lost every last chip he’d racked up, and even when he was escorted out of the building by the student council president of Kamikazari Middle (whom he seemed to know), he didn’t appear the least bit shaken or dismayed.
He accepted his defeat calmly, stood up, and leisurely departed the stage─I’ll admit I’m biased, but I think anyone would say he lost gracefully.
So gracefully, in fact, that it seemed unnatural. But if he’d been expecting to lose all along, then his unnatural attitude made more sense.
He must have planned it all out─from his sweep of the poker tables to his appearance on stage.
“Oho. You seem to have some thoughts on this matter, Nagahiro. Pray tell us what they are,” the leader urged with a grin.
Yes, his attitude was generous, but it also meant he had no concept of what his subordinates were getting up to─honestly, what the hell kind of leadership is that?
The information-sharing protocol in this organization was totally non-functional.
It struck me as a bit fishy, but come to think of it, Sakiguchi had taken the initiative on an independent investigation last time, too─and Yubiwa had helped him out. I glanced over at the child genius.
His face was blank as always.
Impressive that he could eat yakisoba this delicious without losing his deadpan demeanor.
By the way, if you’re wondering about Mr. Bare-Legs, he’d burrowed into the bed and passed out in his clothes the instant we got back to the art room (yes, there’s a bed in the art room. With a canopy)─apparently, he’d had too much fun and tuckered himself out.
Maybe he needs more rest than the ordinary middle school student because he’s so active. And he does look like a regular angel when he’s sleeping.
Meanwhile, the eyes of Sotoin the fifth grader were sparkling with excitement, like he simply could not wait to hear what Sakiguchi had to say.
This kid gets excited about everything.
“With pleasure. But where to begin?” the councilman mused in a troubled tone. “I find myself regretting that I didn’t inform you of this when Ms. Dojima first told us about her encounter.”
“Hmph. You said it, Nagahiro. If you’d told us then, I wouldn’ta burned through all my cash.”
It was a delinquent-worthy accusation, but it was just an excuse─he had to take responsibility for his own losses.
“Delinquent debt,” I muttered, but everyone ignored me.
Strange, I could have sworn I wasn’t invisible…
Anyway, the delinquent went on undisturbed. “I don’t get complicated explanations, okay? So start at the beginning and tell us everything in order,” he commanded.
“Yes, I suppose that may be the only way.” The vice president of the Pretty Boy Detective Club shrugged reluctantly. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began in his customary beautiful voice, to which I was by now so well accustomed.