Before School Tea Time

“I…” Hazama massaged her eyebrows. “I do not have the energy right now to think of other words that are HR-appropriate or genuinely more polite. This is so wrong on so many levels.”

“Excuse me?” Ishigami eyed Hoshino up and down before turning his gaze back to Hazama. “Bitch, I’m adorable.”

Hazama breathed through her nose slowly. She took a sip from her energy drink and gently set it on the table.

Calm. The situation was too fucking calm.

Hoshino was leaking buckets of cold sweat over here. He didn’t want to be a powerscaler right now. He had seen both of them fight. Ishigami beat up a homeless man. But the spirit that Hazama practically solo’d was probably worth at least ten or fifteen homeless men. She could be plotting something. She could whip out her wand and blow their heads off. She could also kick their balls under the table. She could also go the more badass route and rip their throats out with a spoon.

So, calling Hazama a bitch—even jokingly—was a BIG no-no. And the mere fact that she was acting all prim and proper about this made it even scarier.

“That’s not the point, Ishigami-san.”

“What about me?”

Hoshino pointed to himself, his smile as bright as the headlights that make deer freeze before they get run over by a car.

“You’re cute.”

Hazama shifted her thousand-yard stare toward him. She paused, her glasses gleaming and hiding whatever reaction lay underneath. She kept her gaze glued to him for so long that Hoshino had the time to panic and conjure three possible scenarios: one was that the caffeine from her coffee and whatever was in that energy drink caused her heart to pop and she died on the spot; the next was that her brain and entire nervous system short-circuited from the amount of sugar running through her body; and the last would be an HR violation in and of itself to describe.

Hoshino preferred the last one.

“But that’s also not the point…” Hazama continued, her nose flaring in a cute attempt to stifle a yawn. “We’re supposed to talk about the case.”

“We are—”

“Showing off how cute and adorable you are doesn’t count, Ishigami-san.” Hazama drank more of her energy drink and sipped a bit of her coffee. She looked close to chugging both. “You also look like a pervert.”

“What the fuck?”

“You have a top hat.” Hazama leaned forward. “You look like the Monopoly man but more Japanese and without the white mustache. I’m trying to take you seriously, but one look and I already want to report you to the police. Imagine if you started hanging out in a place full of kids.”

“You’re just jealous of how pretty I am.” Ishigami also leaned forward, matching Hazama’s freak—or whatever it was she was doing.

Hazama adjusted her eyeglasses and gave Hoshino a thumbs up. “No. I’m jealous of how pretty he is.”

“Thank you, Hazama-san.”

“I’ll have you know, the staff thinks I’m cute too. They told me I look like a real French man—”

“In the nineteenth century—” Hazama raised her voice, crisp and cold, until her lips cracked into a warm smile and then a small laugh. “Damn…”

Ishigami smirked, his eyes somewhat gentle and concerned. “Me? Defeat Hazama in an argument? But alas, I never knew that obtaining this victory I’ve coveted for so long would make me feel so empty…”

“I would’ve obliterated you with pure facts and logic.”

The great weight hanging in the air was lifted. It was nice to see Hazama loosen up as well. She sighed and lowered her head, her lips pressed tight, a bit of blush coloring her pale cheeks. Adorable.

Hoshino couldn’t help but smile as well. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d seen this before. For sure, Ishigami’s way of comforting her seemed a little too roundabout. At some point, Hoshino’s brain cooked up another scenario where Hazama would jump from her seat and stab Ishigami in the eye with a straw. At least that didn’t happen.

“That reminds me, Ishigami-san… you’ve been to the Kamishiro house—” Hoshino held his words and glanced at Hazama. He pointed at his ear.

“It’s fine.” Hazama stifled another yawn. She gave up sipping both drinks and instead dumped whatever was left of her energy drink into her coffee. “No one will be able to listen to our conversation. I also took other precautions; if they have a [Scry] spell or something similar… they’ll only see Ishigami-san and you having a twerk-off on top of this table. And if they decide to suddenly be brave and approach us… they’ll either be dealt with by the dozen or so guards I’ve placed undercover around the area, or they’ll face the wrath of Ishigami-san or me who is slowly forgetting what sleep feels like.”

“That…” Hoshino swallowed. Ishigami had no comment. Hazama was smiling at the thought. “That’s good to know.” Though, was this level of precaution necessary? The investigation itself was far from normal, but this… this might be a little too much.

“So you have questions about Kamishiro Yuki?” Ishigami took out a small notebook from his coat. He put on reading glasses, then licked his pointer finger like an old man before flipping through the pages. “I asked the parents and some of the neighbors but…”

Hazama cupped her chin. “It’s incredibly biased?”

“Yep. Our victim here is a fuckin’ angel.” Ishigami snorted as he turned the page. “Her classmates skipped school when they heard the news, and a bunch of them bawled their eyes out when they realized she was really gone. She stayed late to help one dude finish his project. She helped a group of bitches make up after stealing each other’s boyfriends—which is too much, not gonna lie. She even helped another kid escape her house so she could watch fireworks with her friends during New Year’s. She’s the greatest friend ever. If someone told me she saved the world once or twice from a demon with the power of friendship, I’d believe them.”

“No shitty remarks? Nothing at all?” Hoshino asked. To be fair, no one would really do that. But still… There was something about this situation that greatly unnerved him.

“Nada.” Ishigami widened his grin. “Family had nothing but praise and how terrible it is that she was ground into a fine paste. Same goes for the neighbors—especially the grandpas and grandmas.”

“Curses or malevolent spirits rarely target ‘good’ people, especially if it’s this brutal.” Hazama did air quotes and smiled to herself, probably thinking about how clever she was. Again, adorable. No… cute. “Do we have anything that links her with the other two victims, Oogami Subaru and Amamiya Takenju?”

Ishigami snapped his fingers. He wiggled his brows and shuddered with all the excitement of a high school girl that was just noticed by their senpai. Seeing a grown man who could probably fold his own body eight times over with his sheer strength alone made Hoshino shudder too. He had a very different reason.

“That was actually the spiciest part. Kamishiro’s ass was consistently well-glazed by her classmates like a wet, overpriced donut. But the only thing they couldn’t agree on was who she liked more: Oogami or Amamiya. Rumors were already floating about her and Oogami dating. There were also some who gushed about her unrequited feelings for Amamiya—the student council president—who was supposed to be married off to Hino Industries’ Hino Sumire.”

Hoshino sighed. “Finally, a lead that involves the name of a person who isn’t dead.”

“We may have to look deeper into the Amamiya Conglomerate and Hino Industries as a whole. I’ll remember to ask about that after I’m done sweeping through the Amamiya household. I’ll also see if I can put this Hino Sumire under protection.”

“Did you find anything else interesting in her room, Ishigami-san?” Hoshino asked.

“Eh, just the usual stuff.” Ishigami shrugged before flipping to another page. “No malevolent spirits or anything. But… she did have a stolen photo of Oogami Subaru tucked away in an old textbook. I also removed some signatures from a pack of Hino cigarettes.”

“Oogami… had the same brand,” Hazama said.

Hoshino’s eyes widened. His lip trembled. He had to cover his mouth to hide it. Thoughts ran through his mind again—now he had to be more deliberate not to think about what it was. The more shapeless it was, the better. Right now, it was just a terrible swirl of emotions. Something that he could barely control.

Hoshino was angry. He understood that part at least. But the last thing his coworkers needed was someone going ballistic, screaming that these victims did it to themselves. Still… whoever the culprit was… it didn’t change the fact that they killed three people.

“This brings me to two other things that are too risky to mention over the phone.” Hazama put two folders on the table. “I thought about what Hoshino said and had someone check for cases of gruesome deaths or suicides in Kanzakichō in the last forty days. We got a hit. But of course, nothing has changed. You’ll still head to Sakuramine and I’ll go to the Amamiya household, so we’ll have to conduct our investigations accordingly. And while you’re there, see if the name Nagamori Arisa comes up—she’s a prostitute who jumped off Hoshikuzu Bridge.”

“Noted,” Ishigami replied. “What’s the other one?”

Hazama tapped one of the folders. “The Butterflies are involved, and they’re already one step ahead.”