Deez Bunz and a Dead Body

“Would you like some of Deez Bunz?”

Hoshino took eight gallant, measured steps and danced through a few numbered flags marking the blood-painted floor. He twirled at the final stride, turning until the paste of flesh clinging to the walls blurred, and handed the beautiful woman in front of him a paper bag of steaming matcha buns.

Her deadpan yet borderline enthusiastic, square-shaped black glasses with rounded edges glimmered against the sheer brightness of Hoshino's smile. It was a welcome reaction. Adorable.

“Heh.”

The right corner of her pale, pinkish lips twitched. Maybe it was an attempt to smile.

“So the name gets funnier the more you say it. You also said it in a very energetic manner. Maybe that’s the key to its comedy. Deez Bunz. These buns. Buns. Like butt. By offering Deez Bunz—the product—it’s the proper setup for a lewd joke.”

Hazama fished out a pink handkerchief filled with cute kitten prints from her pocket, using it to get herself a hot matcha bun from the bag. Hoshino had to jiggle the bag into position, holding it at the level of her outstretched hand for ease of access. For a moment, its aroma masked the iron and shit-infested atmosphere of the room. There was a hint of cigarette smoke too, but that was welcome.

“Thanks for the joke, Hoshino-san. Not a lot of people can throw jokes during their first field trip,” she continued, blowing the steam off the bun before taking a small bite. “Thanks for the food, too.”

Hoshino kept his smile. Trip? That was a weird way to call it. “No worries, Hazama-san.”

“On that note, I still find it hard to understand why people find lewd jokes funny,” Hazama said, her eyes looking over the victim—of what was left of him—in the middle of the room. “I get more confused the more I think about it. I can’t accept the fact that people just find them funny against all odds. Content. Timing. Tone. The person speaking. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, but maybe I could come up with a better list when I’m in a more… appropriate place. There seems to be a lot of factors at play here, some of which I can’t even understand yet.”

“Sometimes, people will throw jokes to lighten the mood.”

Hoshino sank his teeth into a matcha bun as well. It was good, as expected of the man, the myth, the legend—the Matcha Man himself. Its fragrance as well as the slight sweetness of its soft shell made Hoshino revel in the taste of perfectly seasoned ground pork within. He could imagine himself naked and moaning to show how much he enjoyed the taste. Wait, no. He should entertain those intrusive thoughts later.

“You can also consider that people aren’t really laughing at the joke itself, but because of how clever it is—and the fact that they got it. Lewd jokes are pretty easy to imply and are also easy to get.”

“I see.” Hazama cupped her chin and scratched her nose. “So you were lightening the mood. Thanks then, Hoshino-san.”

“Well, I owe you.” Hoshino straightened his back, resisting the urge to lean into the wall. “I also think that a bit of kindness and a warm snack might offset the big-ass disappointment we’re feeling due to not being able to spend our precious Saturday morning in peace.”

“Correct.” Hazama sighed, almost sounding like a whimper at the end. “I pulled an all-nighter, and Ishigami-san spent the night before drinking with the boss and their buddies. I pulled an all-nighter, Hoshino-san. I’m running on my second bottle of energy drink, Hoshino-san. I’m craving a third, and I don’t know if it will send me to a hospital or the nearest toilet, Hoshino-san.”

She paused, her lips parted, mouth almost open. The shine on her glasses hid her tired gaze. She tilted her head toward the bag of matcha buns cradled in Hoshino’s arm.

“May I have some of your Bunz, Hoshino-san?”

Hoshino handed her the entire bag. “Take as much as you can.” He cracked a smile.

“So… you’ve noticed.” Hazama forced a chuckle before stuffing her face with two of Hoshino’s Bunz. “Now, I get what you mean. It’s not that the joke itself is funny. You smiled because you got it and later found it funny because I tried to pull it out in a situation where you least expected it. If I master this kind of timing… then…” She shook her head. “In any case, thank you for your kindness. Thank you for being open about why you made such a joke in the first place. I’ll forgive you. And me being in this state means I’ll forget a thing or two when making my report about your behavior…”

Hoshino’s smile wavered. “Was that inappropriate?”

“Very inappropriate.” Hazama nudged her head, pointing Hoshino’s attention toward the body—or what was left of it—in the middle of the room. Shit. Right. “The walls are thin in this house. Do you know what that means, Hoshino-san?”

“You need to keep your voice down while rubbing one out?”

“Incorrect.” Hazama raised a brow, making it peek just above the rim of her glasses. Her lips twitched again. A smile, maybe? She sighed, regaining her composure. “It means that since we can hear the victim's parents grieve about the sudden and gruesome death of their only child below, they could have also heard about a particular man shouting ‘Would yOU lIke sOme oF deeZ BUnz?’ cheerfully while he’s supposed to be doing a very sensitive investigation above. Can you imagine what they might feel in response?”

“Wait—”

“It’s a trick question.”

Hazama adjusted her glasses, clearly feeling cocky about it.

“They won’t hear us. I made sure of it. I put up a barrier the moment I entered this room. This allows us to talk freely, particularly about something we cannot disclose to the parents or his family below. But do use this moment to reflect on your behavior. Them not being able to hear us is one thing, but them seeing you waltzing through the remains of their precious son is a different matter I’d like to avoid dealing with—especially on a Saturday morning.”

“I… I understand, Hazama-san.”

“Thank you, Hoshino-san. While I do appreciate your energy, it is also my duty as one of your superior officers to guide you through our process while you’re still an E-rank exorcist. I hope you understand.”

Hazama moved toward the pile of flesh in the middle of the room. Hoshino traced her steps.

“Now, be honest with me. What do you know about this particular case?”

“None,” Hoshino replied with the brightest and dumbest smile he could conjure at the moment. He must’ve looked sparkling. “I was in the middle of doing my morning routine when I got word from the boss. I ran into the Matcha Man on the way and I got the freshly made Deez Bunz from him.”

“I see.”

Hazama eyed Hoshino up and down, smiling at the end. He was wearing a dark pink hoodie and gray jogging pants. It was tacky compared to her usual black suit, white undershirt, and a lapis tie. Very hot, as some would definitely say.

“Consider that one detractor off the list,” she continued, somewhat proud. “You brought your badge even while training. I assume you showed up with that and the officers below let you in—”

Ah, no.” Hoshino pointed to himself. His lips barely dared to break into a small laugh. “They knew me. I bought three bags from the Matcha Man. I left the other two to the people below since, you know… Saturday. But…” He raised his trembling voice the moment Hazama’s glasses shone. “I showed my badge to the civilians grieving below, explained my situation, expressed my condolences …and told them we’re gonna get the person or thing that did this… if t-that’s what you’re w-worried about…”

“I see.”

“Not good?”

“What you did was appropriate. That one thing at the end is just a matter of personal preference. Catching or ‘dealing’ with the bad guy is our job, but I tend not to promise that to whoever’s grieving. In any case…” Hazama once again pointed Hoshino to the victim in front of them. “His name is Oogami Subaru. Male. Seventeen years old. A second-year student of Sakuramine High School west of Kanzakichō. He’s apparently an ace of their judo club.”

Hoshino stepped back, keeping his head low as he let his eyes wander.

The dude was murdered. That much was obvious. Based on what had been drilled into him during his first month of being “recruited” as an exorcist, he could tell that the body hadn’t been exposed to the elements much based on the low number of flies in the room.

The area’s general smell also told the same story. There was a bit of shit and piss lingering in the air, and ignoring that revealed the metallic, almost sweet and wet tang of blood mixed with smoke. It was the same kind of vibe you would get by walking into a substandard butcher’s shop.

The body was crushed by an external force. By magic, no less. That, or someone had gone out of their way to crush his body somewhere in Kanzakichō and transported his remains here in buckets.

Hoshino’s first thought was a cannon. Everything was all over the place, after all. But it was rather too neat. The ceiling directly above the victim wasn’t stained. Then he remembered the unhealthy amount of hydraulic press videos he’d watched in bed to sleep. There was a particular video where someone crushed a large plastic jar full of gummy worms, and the contents swelled and spurted out through every gap when they had nowhere else to go. That seemed to be the case here.

“Curse… magic?”

“Good eye, Hoshino-san. Not the first time you’ve seen one, I’m sure.”

Hoshino instinctively traced the scar that marked the side of his mouth. The gash on the left bit deeper into his cheek and pointed upward. The one on the right went downward. A terrible reminder that he was beautiful, too.

“You could also refer to it as just a curse,” Hazama continued. “Something as brutal and at the same time as illogical as this cannot be called magic.”

The room really looked like it belonged to a 17-year-old boy. It was small. The gray concrete floor had enough space to fit a single-sized bed, a closet, a glass display case, and a wooden study table by the window. The chestnut-colored walls were left untouched by posters and the like. This room screamed that the dude wasn’t the type that would get involved in curses let alone pursue one out of pure curiosity.

“Have you checked under the victim’s bed?”

“Actually…” Hazama said, a bit surprised. “We found a couple of dirty magazines. There were also a few packs of cigarettes, some of them were empty.”

Hoshino shrugged.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing you haven’t considered, I’m sure. Do we have any other victims?”

“Two more. Kamishiro Yuki, female. Amamiya Takenju, male. Both are 17 years old and are attending Sakuramine as second-years. Ishigami-san is over at the Kamishiro household right now. The three of us are going to have to visit the Amamiya household later—the bastards demanded our full attention.”

Hazama sighed and walked toward the study table, her head low so that her introspective glasses would glow under the harsh light of the room.

“We can leave the rest of the details to our good, very-bribeable officers below.” She clicked her tongue. Was she angry? Maybe the Deez Bunz were involved. Maybe. Definitely. “You did your homework, Hoshino-san. I’m glad. If you’re that insightful, then I’m sure you know how to conduct a proper investigation as well. But I want to remind you that while investigations do fall into our jurisdiction from time to time as our job requires us to be observant and wise… we are exorcists first and investigators second.”

Hoshino lowered his head, his gaze fixated on the deep blue eyes beneath her glimmering glasses. He kept his smile firm.

“Most of the reason we’re deployed early in the field for supernatural cases such as this is not so that we can offer our insights as exorcists. Our officers are good enough to do that.” Hazama pulled out her jet-black wand, tilting her head at the same time with a tired, confident smile. “Our job, first and foremost, is to erase the malevolent mana that Oogami Subaru may have emitted at the time of his death.”

Hoshino nodded. “That means—”

“Correct, Hoshino-san.” Hazama widened her smile. “We’ll have to perform an exorcism.”