The Eccentric, the Beauty, and the Detective: Kiriki Junka's Mystery Log Volume 1 Chapter 12

Pre-chapter Eccentricities:

“To boil tea in one’s navel” is an idiom that refers to doing something ridiculous. It seems to be because laughing at something stupid hard enough makes the contents of your stomach roil like boiling water. The term is often used scornfully, and is synonymous with bursting out laughing, laughing with the stomach, and several other idioms. The Japanese themselves have translated it to an English idiom “It would make a horse laugh.” Only… I’ve never heard that English idiom used before.

Here’s a translation of an example sentence where the idiom is used: “It’s the third time I’ve heard that. It’s so laughable I’m boiling tea in my stomach.”

You are about to read about this idiom, and please bear in mind that the Japanese preposition used is super vague and could mean in, on, at, through, with, by, and probably more, but I can’t be bothered to think them up on the spot.

“Bridge pose”

But knowing Junka, we’re probably dealing with a wheel bridge:

Antonio Inoki: a promoter of pro-wrestling.

Soft Windflower:

“Hahaha…”

The next day in class 1, 3, Junka heard my reasoning and promptly exposed his navel in a bridge pose and placed a filled kettle upon it. Apparently, he was boiling tea with his stomach. I wasn’t quite able to be angry at his method of making fun of me.

“Rouji-kun, I cannot accept your reasoning.”

He was looking down at me while playing the fool.

“Take a break at the Chapeau? I don’t care who you are, three hours is way too long. No, Rouji-kun, I can’t accept that.”

Having lost his balance, the water sloshed splendidly out, covering Junka.

“Oh? It’s not hot.”

Of course it isn’t.

Nao was in high spirits.

“The old man comes at 11am, has one cup of coffee for 3 hours, and leaves at 2pm. How mysterious. Can I come and see?”

“Even though it isn’t really a show,” I said, despite not being dissatisfied as I sounded.

It was an unexpected boon for the girl I liked to suddenly go to my workplace. Junka wiped his face with a red Antonio Inoki fighting spirit towel.

“I’ll have to make a pass myself. In the first place, isn’t this something you can just ask him about? Isn’t it rather rude to just watch him from a distance and make guesses?” objected Junka.

“It’s fun because we won’t ask him, idiot. Then, I’ll be dropping by the day after tomorrow on the 3rd.”

On May 3rd, after two days off, I psyched myself up and once more donned my Chapeau uniform, fixing my sleeves. The old man appeared again. His clothing didn’t stand out, simply wearing an elegant jacket and a loose tie every day. He then ignored his coffee and fixed his eyes beyond the window. The manager told me he’d come the previous two days as well.

Nao arrived just before noon, her angelic form cleansing my soul. After a knowing look, I sat her at the counter inside the shop and showed her where the old man was sitting while I pretended to take her order. She fixed her gaze on the elderly man, not worried about being discovered because he was focused on things outside the shop. After about ten minutes of watching him, she turned her eyes to me.

She spoke in a hushed tone so as not to be overheard, “He’s the one, eh? He seems a little different than a normal person. Is it because he’s on edge, or something, but he seems hard to approach.”

“What do you think?”

“It’s just a thought, but lend me an ear.”

I leaned in and felt her breath on my ear.

“That man is probably on a diet. There’s no doubt.”

“A diet?”

“I’m a girl, right? I understand the pain of a diet. He’s surely suffering. Unable to lose weight… doesn’t he only order coffee instead of food?”

“Yeah.”

“With one coffee before him, all he has to resist is the urge to drink it. Isn’t that fairly doable? Then after he’s resisted for 3 hours, he downs it as a reward. Isn’t that it?”

It made sense now that she’d mentioned it. It gave him a reason not to order food.

“You’re a smart one, eh, Iidsan.”

Nao blushed in embarrassment.

“Ehehe… ah, I should order, too. Um… one iced coffee please,” she stuck out her tongue, “I’m on a diet too.”

That night, I had a chat with Junka on my phone. Since we were neighbours, it would have been fine to talk face to face, but I’d just gotten a plan with unlimited call hours so I wanted to give it a try. I told him Nao’s deduction right away.

“… which is to say that the old man’s probably on a diet or something.”

Against my expectations, Junka didn’t seem excited at all.

“Was he fat?”

It gave me pause once he’d mentioned it…

“Also, isn’t it a little dumb to specifically go into a shop with loads of delicious items on the menu just to ignore them while on a diet? Couldn’t he just do that in a park or somewhere else? Would anybody sit on one cup of coffee for 3 hours without talking to anybody just because of a diet? Even being specific about going from 11 o’clock to 2 o’clock… No matter how much you say he’s on a diet, would he really cause people so much trouble for that? Did he look like that type of man?”

“No, he didn’t…”

Junka yawned.

“Rouji-kun, you’ve stuck your nose in something that doesn’t even matter. Don’t forget your duties while you work. Bye, then.”

He hung up the phone. I scratched my head. I guess it was a miss again.

On the 4th of May, beneath a nearly weeping sky, I set forth on a task given to me by Toshiharu at 10:45am.

“The florist across the street ought to be open. I can’t go myself, so could you pick up some flowers, Suzaku-kun?”

“Which flowers do you want?”

“One silver pot of soft windflowers. We’re using them for decoration.”

“Yes sir.”

I set out in my uniform, and crossed the road since there weren’t any cars. The small florist was called MIKI FLOWERS, and just approaching it brought a sweet aroma to my nose.

“Welcome.”

A beautiful woman in her twenties received me. She helps bring in the customers, eh?

“Are you looking for something?”

“A silver pot of soft windflowers…”

“Thanks as always.”

It looked like she had recognised my Chapeau uniform. The same order had probably been placed before I started working in golden week.

“That’ll be 780 yen.”

I handed her a thousand yen bill, and got my change.

“Thank you very much.”

She bowed deeply. What could describe her but lovely. I wanted to take her out for diner.

“She’s a pretty one, eh?” teased the manager when I returned to the Chapeau.

I handed over the plastic bag with the silver pot.

“Is she your type, Manager?”

“Nope. I’m all for my wife.”

The door opened.

“Welcome,” I called instinctively, but when I turned around my mouth hung open.

It was the old man. He once more sat at a window seat. I went to take his order and looked out the window. MIKI FLOWERS was clearly visible.

“One latte please,” he ordered.

The man’s eyes were bottomless; clear like frozen ripples on water. I jotted down his order in a practiced manner, as suspicion welled up in my chest. Could he be observing the florist? Did he fall for that beautiful clerk? Was he a stalker?

Thoughts of his true nature shot through my mind. He came every day at 11 o’clock. He then left at 2:00. I didn’t know why, but he clearly stared at the scene beyond the window, never looking aside, not even ordering any food despite the hunger of noon. That was it, he was looking at the lovely lady.

I was sure that was it, and I was horrified. The dark nature that hid behind his gentle eyes couldn’t be understood at a glance. Just a glimpse of it made me sick.

I had to do something, but I didn’t know what. I couldn’t contact the police since nothing had happened. Should I have told the florist that an old man was leering at her? Surely the man himself would tell me not to make such accusations.

Translator's Note:

I’d tell you to stop making those accusations, Rouji. What if she’s his granddaughter or something?

Editor’s Note:

I agree with the granddaughter/estranged daughter, or some such theory. A stalker would most likely spend more time observing her, and take pictures. Then again, I've been lucky enough to never encounter a stalker so what do I know~~?

Chapter end