The Eccentric, the Beauty, and the Detective: Kiriki Junka's Mystery Log Volume 2 Chapter 5

Having recently been busy with the newspaper club, Tatsuno Hinata came to our classroom for the first time in a while. She had black rimmed glasses and shortcut hair. Her slender frame always sported a camera, and she was a member of the detective association. Today, she was carrying a stack of paper.

“Sorry for the wait. Here is the June edition of the Shibuyamadai High School Student Paper.”

Mine attention and the others' wast drawn to the four page, A4 sized, Shibuymadai High School monthly paper. This time, the principal's message was: Free thought is born from correct information. The newspaper club had over 20 members and was the next largest club after the wind instruments club, boasting great influence.

Hinata was a club novice, a first year reporter. Perhaps due to her abilities, or because her content was interesting, this month's edition had a section about our detective association appointed by the upperclassmen. We had been allotted half a page, and the large size seemed to have caused Hinata some worry on account of her inexperience in comparison to the prominence of the article.

She blew past those worries, and the results were displayed in our June edition.

“The article about the detective association is right here.”

Junka, Nao, and I each took up a paper, and gazed upon the article about ourselves under the light of the fluorescent lamps. The weather was quite bad, and the weather report in the paper informed us that the rainy season had arrived.

Beneath the title, “Achievements of the Detective Association” was writ a summary of the case of the tears of blood, the case of the broken chalk, and the case of the strange customer. The character names had been replaced with Mr. A and Ms. B. The case of Takada Satoshi was omitted due to the violence involved.

A tiny portrait of Junka's stunning looks had been printed, but nothing of the rest of us.

“Why aren't they showing my pretty face?” complained Nao jokingly.

Junka was unusually pleased with the paper.

“We'll need to be careful to avoid scandal from here on out,” he said, before suddenly becoming a star, “Going to Hawaii for new years, getting mobbed by cameras in Hong Kong, telling them 'We're going on un petites vacances.' Man, it'll get busy!”

He'd gotten totally caught up in his wild fantasies. I smiled as I watched him like that, slightly embarrassed at the idea of our actions being read by many people. It was pleasant, but bittersweet.

Miyako-sensei distributed the paper to the students during homeroom at the end of the day. There were some who rushed straight to the horoscopes section, and others who carefully poured over every detail. I held some hopes that our fifth member would appear as a result.

“Don't get carried away, Kiriki,” came a harsh voice not long after dismissal.

Electric currents surged through my grey matter in search of the name of the one who had spoken: Yahara Toshio.

He had eyes like a fox, gaunt cheeks, an upturned nose, and generally unfortunate looks. Further, his colour was pallid, giving him a sickly appearance. He was the dislikable fellow who had accused Junka and myself of being the culprits in the case of the broken chalk.

I turned my gaze to the side, and standing before Junka's chair was a personage familiar to my memory.

Junka gingerly placed the paper in his bag as he questioned the boy before his eyes, “What brings you here?”

Yahara's large mouth formed the shape of a rowboat.

“You detective association lot've just fluked your way through these incidents. Don't think you're worthy of being reported on.”

He held his own copy in both hands before Junka's eyes as if to show him something, when…

He tore it in two.

Even Junka was surprised by that, finally shocked.

“Just what are you doing?”

Yahara did not respond, and silently refolded the paper, tearing it once more, transforming what was once the news into a mere pile of scraps by repeating the action.

“I refuse to recognise y'all.”

Once he'd spat his response, he headed for the paper recycling, displeased. Then, completely ignoring Junka, he left the class.

I placed my hand on Junka's shoulder.

“Don't worry about it, Junka, that's just how he is. I bet it's a grudge from the case of the broken chalk.”

Junka shook his head.

“I don't get it at all. What was the point? It really seemed fruitless.”

“Let's head home; eat some hamburgers to forget that stupid guy, and all the rest.”

“Oh, I'm going to drop by the convenience store, so I'll pass.”

“Mn? Need something there?”

A slovenly smile floated across Junka's face.

“I'm going to copy and enlarge our article from the June paper. I'll need about fifty. Then I'll paste it all over my ceiling, or maybe the walls. What do you think? Is it not a wonderful idea?”

I knew he was happy, but that was overdoing things.

Several days later, I looked out at the sight of the dark, drizzly surroundings as we sat in the one speck of light in the universe: our homeroom, in which we spent double the usual time.

It was during fifth block that Miyako-sensei appeared, fully clad in an armour of wrath. So striking it was, that I was surprised she didn't slam her folder onto her podium.

“Stand! Bow!”

At the instruction of the one in charge of day-duty, we stood and lowered our heads. Gazing around at the various desks, the sense of unease at our teacher's actions was unmistakable.

Everything went quiet when the class sat back down. Miyako-sensei's breath came out almost like steam from a kettle.

“I'd had other plans for today, but they aren't going to happen. This is a serious matter. We have a problem big enough to halt all instruction.”

We stiffened at such a mysterious introduction, wondering just what she was going to tell us. We found out soon enough.

“Someone in this class is a smoker.”

She'd said it clearly, enunciating every word. The gravity of the matter set the room astir. I was blinking in shock. Was such a one in our class?

One student, clean cut, our class representative, Natsushima, raised a hand.

“What is it, Natsushima?”

“How did you find out?”

Miyako-sensei produced a small plastic bag, raising it high in her right hand.

“The butt's right here.”

Bent and small was the cigarette butt that was visible in the bag.

“When I found it, I had no sympathy.”

Kikuike's hand was up. He was a boy with good reflexes in the tennis club.

“Where was it?”

Miyako-sensei pointed to the teacher's desk, irritated.

“It was right there by the teacher's desk, almost as if it was asking to be found.”

“When did you find it?”

“After homeroom this morning.”

Indignation heavily coloured her voice.

“I didn't know what it was at first, but I never would have expected in my wildest dreams to have found a cigarette butt just lying right there. I took it right back to the staff room and bagged it there. Now that we've got ourselves a long homeroom, let's find out just who was smoking this, shall we?”

Her gaze ran over the class as she leaned with both hands on her podium. Regret and anger passed by the faces of the students.

“If you confess now, I'll let you off. If you smoke, step up. You get caught, you get punished, that's just how things are. It is what it is, but if you confess right now, I'll overlook this.”

Accepting the serve from our resident tennis pro, Miyako-sensei had shown her magnanimity.

Another hand went up. Oh, it was Junka.

“Was it you, Junka!?”

All at once, the room was astir. All gazes turned to him, and he started waving his hand in a bit of a panic.

“No, not at all, not at all. I only had two, no three, things I wanted to ask.”Having recently been busy with the newspaper club, Tatsuno Hinata came to our classroom for the first time in a while. She had black rimmed glasses and shortcut hair. Her slender frame always sported a camera, and she was a member of the detective association. Today, she was carrying a stack of paper.

“Sorry for the wait. Here is the June edition of the Shibuyamadai High School Student Paper.”

Mine attention and the others' wast drawn to the four page, A4 sized, Shibuymadai High School monthly paper. This time, the principal's message was: Free thought is born from correct information. The newspaper club had over 20 members and was the next largest club after the wind instruments club, boasting great influence.

Hinata was a club novice, a first year reporter. Perhaps due to her abilities, or because her content was interesting, this month's edition had a section about our detective association appointed by the upperclassmen. We had been allotted half a page, and the large size seemed to have caused Hinata some worry on account of her inexperience in comparison to the prominence of the article.

She blew past those worries, and the results were displayed in our June edition.

“The article about the detective association is right here.”

Junka, Nao, and I each took up a paper, and gazed upon the article about ourselves under the light of the fluorescent lamps. The weather was quite bad, and the weather report in the paper informed us that the rainy season had arrived.

Beneath the title, “Achievements of the Detective Association” was writ a summary of the case of the tears of blood, the case of the broken chalk, and the case of the strange customer. The character names had been replaced with Mr. A and Ms. B. The case of Takada Satoshi was omitted due to the violence involved.

A tiny portrait of Junka's stunning looks had been printed, but nothing of the rest of us.

“Why aren't they showing my pretty face?” complained Nao jokingly.

Junka was unusually pleased with the paper.

“We'll need to be careful to avoid scandal from here on out,” he said, before suddenly becoming a star, “Going to Hawaii for new years, getting mobbed by cameras in Hong Kong, telling them 'We're going on un petites vacances.' Man, it'll get busy!”

He'd gotten totally caught up in his wild fantasies. I smiled as I watched him like that, slightly embarrassed at the idea of our actions being read by many people. It was pleasant, but bittersweet.

Miyako-sensei distributed the paper to the students during homeroom at the end of the day. There were some who rushed straight to the horoscopes section, and others who carefully poured over every detail. I held some hopes that our fifth member would appear as a result.

“Don't get carried away, Kiriki,” came a harsh voice not long after dismissal.

Electric currents surged through my grey matter in search of the name of the one who had spoken: Yahara Toshio.

He had eyes like a fox, gaunt cheeks, an upturned nose, and generally unfortunate looks. Further, his colour was pallid, giving him a sickly appearance. He was the dislikable fellow who had accused Junka and myself of being the culprits in the case of the broken chalk.

I turned my gaze to the side, and standing before Junka's chair was a personage familiar to my memory.

Junka gingerly placed the paper in his bag as he questioned the boy before his eyes, “What brings you here?”

Yahara's large mouth formed the shape of a rowboat.

“You detective association lot've just fluked your way through these incidents. Don't think you're worthy of being reported on.”

He held his own copy in both hands before Junka's eyes as if to show him something, when…

He tore it in two.

Even Junka was surprised by that, finally shocked.

“Just what are you doing?”

Yahara did not respond, and silently refolded the paper, tearing it once more, transforming what was once the news into a mere pile of scraps by repeating the action.

“I refuse to recognise y'all.”

Once he'd spat his response, he headed for the paper recycling, displeased. Then, completely ignoring Junka, he left the class.

I placed my hand on Junka's shoulder.

“Don't worry about it, Junka, that's just how he is. I bet it's a grudge from the case of the broken chalk.”

Junka shook his head.

“I don't get it at all. What was the point? It really seemed fruitless.”

“Let's head home; eat some hamburgers to forget that stupid guy, and all the rest.”

“Oh, I'm going to drop by the convenience store, so I'll pass.”

“Mn? Need something there?”

A slovenly smile floated across Junka's face.

“I'm going to copy and enlarge our article from the June paper. I'll need about fifty. Then I'll paste it all over my ceiling, or maybe the walls. What do you think? Is it not a wonderful idea?”

I knew he was happy, but that was overdoing things.

Several days later, I looked out at the sight of the dark, drizzly surroundings as we sat in the one speck of light in the universe: our homeroom, in which we spent double the usual time.

It was during fifth block that Miyako-sensei appeared, fully clad in an armour of wrath. So striking it was, that I was surprised she didn't slam her folder onto her podium.

“Stand! Bow!”

At the instruction of the one in charge of day-duty, we stood and lowered our heads. Gazing around at the various desks, the sense of unease at our teacher's actions was unmistakable.

Everything went quiet when the class sat back down. Miyako-sensei's breath came out almost like steam from a kettle.

“I'd had other plans for today, but they aren't going to happen. This is a serious matter. We have a problem big enough to halt all instruction.”

We stiffened at such a mysterious introduction, wondering just what she was going to tell us. We found out soon enough.

“Someone in this class is a smoker.”

She'd said it clearly, enunciating every word. The gravity of the matter set the room astir. I was blinking in shock. Was such a one in our class?

One student, clean cut, our class representative, Natsushima, raised a hand.

“What is it, Natsushima?”

“How did you find out?”

Miyako-sensei produced a small plastic bag, raising it high in her right hand.

“The butt's right here.”

Bent and small was the cigarette butt that was visible in the bag.

“When I found it, I had no sympathy.”

Kikuike's hand was up. He was a boy with good reflexes in the tennis club.

“Where was it?”

Miyako-sensei pointed to the teacher's desk, irritated.

“It was right there by the teacher's desk, almost as if it was asking to be found.”

“When did you find it?”

“After homeroom this morning.”

Indignation heavily coloured her voice.

“I didn't know what it was at first, but I never would have expected in my wildest dreams to have found a cigarette butt just lying right there. I took it right back to the staff room and bagged it there. Now that we've got ourselves a long homeroom, let's find out just who was smoking this, shall we?”

Her gaze ran over the class as she leaned with both hands on her podium. Regret and anger passed by the faces of the students.

“If you confess now, I'll let you off. If you smoke, step up. You get caught, you get punished, that's just how things are. It is what it is, but if you confess right now, I'll overlook this.”

Accepting the serve from our resident tennis pro, Miyako-sensei had shown her magnanimity.

Another hand went up. Oh, it was Junka.

“Was it you, Junka!?”

All at once, the room was astir. All gazes turned to him, and he started waving his hand in a bit of a panic.

“No, not at all, not at all. I only had two, no three, things I wanted to ask.”

Translator's Note:

Going back over this to edit was interesting. I don't even feel like I was trying to make the English work the first time. Well, it technically didn't have grammatical errors, but man was it stilted.

Editor's Note:

You can tell what I copied from the doc, and what I typed in wordpress because the fonts are different, and the only way to fix it is to copy paste into some other spot, then copy into wordpress. I don't know why wordpress wants to make my life pointlessly tedious. I also can't paste into wordpress with the shortcuts, just so that it is even worse. I'll never pay these people anything, even if they promise me to fix all the needless problems they made for me. This is a filler comment, the real editor will maybe get around to this at some point.

Chapter end