A World of Connections

My police interview will be over soon. And it will have been for nothing. After minutes of relating my side of the story, presenting factual evidence, and imparting a certain pathos, I think would make it convincing, that's what I conclude.

Soon.

Very soon.

The policeman will send me on my way. Pretend to file a report to his boss. And take his understaffed division to something his superiors consider ‘important’.

“Well, I think that about wraps it up. Wouldn't you say, Imamimi-san?”

“I'd say so.”

The policeman smiles and tips his head. “Oh, and.” He pauses, looking at the paper on the desk. “Says here you're in the consultation business, right?”

“That's correct.”

“Well, unless you want to get into more scandals involving foreign serial killers, I'd suggest you keep to that line of work. You don't need to be a hero. You've got us for that.”

The policeman—like all those affiliated with the Bureau of Magic, is wearing a white haori over his blue uniform. As if to demonstrate his competence, he points to himself and laughs in a display unusual for a police officer.

All police officers are instructed on the telltale signs of magic and otherwise adjacent things. The main thing that sets his type apart is their ability to wield magic in the field, and their status as a ‘Special Judicial Police Officer’.

Meaning they have the authority to conduct criminal investigation into the violation of specific laws (e.g. the unethical use of magic to murder and cover up bodies).

Which—from what I gather, is not going to happen.

“Now, since we're done here, and you're not under arrest. How about I get you your jacket, and we all carry on with our merry day?”

I nod and smile back. He leads me outside of the clean, well-lit room and to the elevator. I give one final nod and take it down to the first floor.

The door opens to the sound of movement and discussion. The busy atmosphere of a police station is in full force.

Working my way through, I end up outside and take a breath of the winter air. It's done. I visited the police and gave whatever information I could.

I don't know if they'll do anything about it. I don't think they will. But I consider it a half-hearted responsibility as a citizen of this country, so I went and did it anyway.

That said.

I still have the original copy of all Yanghua’s documents at home. So I'll cover him myself if they don't.

My mind is awash with the opposite of thought. So nothingness. With that vague sense of nothingness, I wander through the snow-caked streets and look around for nothing in particular.

It's done.

That's all.

A vending machine stands on the street just ahead. The selection of drinks tempts me, and I go with the intention of getting some oolong tea.

My hand goes for my wallet. I stand, fidgeting for coins when I realise I'm short of 100 yen. I'm about to choose something else, when I notice someone next to me.

Handing out a 100 yen coin, is a tall and pale man. With an expression close to apathy, and a scarf around his thick neck.

“Here,” he says, with no trace of emotion.

“Oh, you sure?”

He nods. I take it, and slot it inside the vending machine. A bottle of oolong tea slides down with bumps and turns into a box. I get the tea and start drinking.

Something about the man’s face strikes me as familiar.

“Sorry, but have we met before?”

“No. But I do know you.”

A pang of worry touches my heart. Only to be dispelled a second after.

“My dear friend used to watch your content. You are Imamimi Notanobu, are you not?”

I nod. “Yeah. Guess I'm something of a minor celebrity haha.” Pause. “Would you like a picture? I'm pretty enough to frame somewhere fancy.”

A smile touches the man’s grizzled face. “I believe my dear friend would be most pleased.”

He comes and huddles near me. Taking out a flip-phone, he snaps a quick picture of us both, before moving away.

“If you don't mind me asking,” I probe, testing the waters. “Would you know your friend's username?”

He shakes his head. “I'm afraid I do not know.” His voice is the same apathetic tone. “However, I do not believe he was one for much communication. Despite enjoying the company of others, he rarely, if ever, chose to engage himself with them.”

“Do you mean he's the type to sit in the back and watch people have fun?”

He nods.

“That's kinda sad.”

I expect a bit of anger or rejection from the man. Instead he just looks longingly to the sky.

“It is indeed. My only hope is that people might one day open their hearts to him, as he had for them.”

A hint of sorrow enters his voice. Suppressed beneath a wave of stoic indifference. His gaze keeps on the sky for a bit longer before he begins to move away.

“Please tell your friend I'd love it if he messaged me!”

As he becomes smaller and smaller in the distance, I notice that he left a plastic bag behind. I'm about to give it to him when I see what's inside.

A baton and a familiar black drum kit.

By the time I flick my gaze up, the man's already gone. Gone among a sea of cars and people.

Was that one of the Eight-Virtue Sect?

One of the Ejingbang?

That was my stuff and Yuura’s. So it’s probably one or the either.

Still.

Strange as it is. The main thing on my mind isn’t the close encounter with a gangster I just had. But how sad he looked when he talked about that friend of his.

With a certain presence on my mind. With a certain weight, I carry onto towards my apartment block, and enter my room.

“—ello everyone. Welcome to the Mad Dog apartment dojo. Today I will teach you how to murder someone in self-defence and get away with it.”

Mad Dog is standing in my living room. Currently speaking into a computer with a camera setup, while doing what I assume to be martial art poses to the air.

At the other end of the room.

Zhang is neurotically checking on my houseplants. While dusting off imaginary debris on furniture. I’d like to say this is the office space for my consultation firm… but it seems to have grown a bit beyond that since.

Mad Dog’s free-loading on my sofa.

And Zhang’s here so often he might as well be my live-in maid.

Besides the fact that it makes it nigh impossible to invite any girlfriends over though─I can’t say I hate it. I’ve always been a somewhat outgoing person, and having such polite (even if loud company), is quite the welcome break from routine.

I intrude on their continuous intrusion by sitting on a living room chair. Zhang gives me a welcome look.

“So, how was Nobu’s first interrogation?” he asks.

“Great. Like being told off by my junior high teacher all over again.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I sure hope not.”

We share a brief and quick smile with one another. Looking out the window into the snow-covered vista, I feel myself about to say something when─

“Nobu-kun!

─Yuura slams the apartment door open.

Her choice of tone gives the impression it’s quite urgent. I turn to look at her, and see Yuura with someone next to her. A girl, with long white hair, and cold, empty eyes. Like the surface of a lake left untouched for eons. Dressed in a traditional, wisteria-patterned kimono.

“You’re Imamimi Notanobu, are you not?” opens the girl, with a dry tone. “If so, then I have a proposition for you. Help me exorcise the ghost in my family’s mansion, and this reward shall be yours.”

She retrieves a wad of cash from her jacket. A stack of 10k yen bills as thick as my hand. It’s very tempting. In fact, a rather unrealistic image of me in the Bahamas sipping on a coloured beverage is already forming.

The thing is…

Well, the thing is there’s no thing at al,l but I’m somewhat mixed on if I could exorcise a ghost with this level of cash behind it since that’d mean it’s a rather powerful one and maybe it should be in discussion first before anything else?!

“Young lady, I─”

Zhang and Mad Dog make a mad dash forward. “We’re up!” They say, in perfect, greed-joined unison.

“Splendid. Then, shall we make a move on?”

I want to add something. I want to offer a dissenting opinion that may or may not dissude such a notion. But I don’t. Because really─seeing all their enthusiasm already has me on board.

My only hope is that people might one day open their hearts to him, as he had for them.

“Well, so be it. Allow me, Imamimi Notanobu, to take your heartfelt request into consideration.”

With that said. With that unanimous agreement of acceptance. We get together and decide to explore the avenues of a new case altogether.