Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

“Kouhai-kun… ah, that’s right. Since we’re going to formally investigate the incidents, I shouldn’t use that kind of address…”

Walking with the girl down the silent, empty hallway reminded him of his previous experience moving things with Class Rep.

Looking out the window revealed the usual brilliant yet lonely twilight. The silhouettes of the two walking figures wove between the shadows cast by the railings and doorways.

Senpai’s long hair swayed behind the hem of her sailor uniform skirt. In the dreamlike glow of the setting sun, it resembled dense seaweed floating at the bottom of clear lake waters.

Along the way, Asami Yuko was lost in thought. The girl held one hand to her chest while supporting her chin with the other, seriously pondering what to call the Novelist.

“Ah… I know! How about ‘Assistant-kun’? What do you think?”

“Whatever works is fine.”

Senpai unlocked the door to the Mystery Novel Research Club’s activity room.

The scene was no different from what he’d seen the day before—even the books piled on the floor showed no signs of being tidied up. The Novelist had no choice but to crouch down and return the books to the shelves one by one, while Asami-senpai swayed her way back to her chair.

“Starting tomorrow, there’ll be two people here. We’ll need to prepare another set of cups… what a hassle.”

Despite her words, Senpai was clearly quite happy, rhythmically swinging her black-stockinged legs beneath her skirt.

The Novelist placed the club application form on the table. Without even glancing at it, Asami-senpai signed her name on the paper with a dramatic flourish.

“What exactly do we do for club activities?”

It was time to begin meaningful conversation.

“Is it like a book club?” he asked, thinking of standard literature club practices.

“Are you an idiot, Assistant-kun?”

Senpai used his new nickname with remarkable familiarity.

“…I suppose not.”

Given Asami Yuko’s behavior and actions, it was obvious the club’s daily activities couldn’t be something so relaxed and pleasant. Though until a few minutes ago, there had only been one member.

“However, before we discuss the less pleasant matters, I have something I want to ask.”

The Novelist stuffed the last book into the cabinet and dusted off his hands.

“Why did you want me to join the club?”

There were strange aspects to both Senpai’s behavior and words. But her exceptionally enthusiastic attitude toward him was what concerned him most, since it directly affected him.

“Because all the other members are gone now,” Asami Yuko answered.

“As club president, I naturally hope for new blood to join. Realistically speaking, if we don’t get new members, this club will soon be abolished.”

It already looked quite precarious.

Come to think of it, why were the other members gone? They probably quit the club, the Novelist thought. It seemed not everyone could easily tolerate Asami-senpai’s eccentric ways.

Others weren’t like him—skilled at, or rather accustomed to, dealing with unusual people. Besides… though it was just a premonition, staying by Senpai’s side would likely involve being drawn into real danger sooner or later.

“Of course, that’s not the key reason. The most important reason is—”

Asami-senpai pointed her finger at his forehead.

“Assistant-kun is a Novelist, and specifically a mystery Novelist, aren’t you?”

“…?”

Right, for a “Mystery Novel Research Club,” having him, a genuine mystery writer, join would be perfectly normal. But the problem was that the current club looked more like a place Senpai had established on her own whims to play detective games and satisfy her curiosity.

So why—

“Recording the exploits of a detective character who shows their prowess in strange cases—that’s precisely an assistant’s responsibility, you know.”

“For example…”

Asami-senpai said in a light tone.

“Holmes and Watson.”

The author of the Holmes series was Conan Doyle, but the stories were all narrated from the perspective of “I”—”Dr. John H. Watson,” the partner of the great detective “Holmes.”

“I think you’re perfect for it, Kouhai-kun. No, I should say there’s no one more suitable than you. Come to think of it, our meeting feels almost like it was destined.”

Senpai delivered these ambiguous lines in an even tone, speaking words that had absolutely nothing to do with romance. Was this some kind of unnecessary talent?

“…Wait, is that the only reason?”

The Novelist sat on the room’s single sofa, as there wasn’t a second chair in the activity room.

“Isn’t this reason enough?”

Senpai’s expression suggested she was even more surprised than he was.

“This is a fundamental character setting! Isn’t that the most important thing?”

…Well, that’s true.

In terms of “novel” genre conventions.

Realizing that continuing to dwell on this issue would only waste time, the Novelist wisely chose to change the subject.

“So, about that information…”

Asami-senpai took out a laptop from her bag—honestly, this action reminded him of Miyagi-san—and quickly powered it on.

“Um… Senpai, you’re not planning to show me Japanese internet forums or anonymous message boards, are you?”

That was Miyagi Aki’s domain, and there probably wasn’t anyone in the world who understood it better than her. For the Novelist who had always been by her side, rumors and gossip from such sources had lost their original value.

“Hmm, no, that’s not it…”

Her slender fingers tapped on the keyboard.

“This is an internal police investigation report.”

…

…Eh?

Without any intention of explaining to the Novelist, Asami-senpai kept scrolling with her mouse, rapidly flipping through the document’s contents.

“The key point is this.”

On the dark screen was a grid of squares divided by horizontal and vertical lines in fixed proportions. Inside the squares were little figures in two different colors. They looked like “pieces” that could be controlled in strategy game-type video games.

Like pieces placed on a chess board with black and white pieces, except the colors were changed to white and red. The models were cute big-headed dolls.

The red figures were distributed in a pattern across the grid area, concentrated in three corners. The numbers were “4,” “5,” and “3” respectively.

“…What does this mean?”

“It’s a crime announcement.”

Asami Yuko’s finger lightly tapped the screen.

“Four figures, five figures, three figures…”

In the moment she muttered this, the Novelist quickly understood the implications.

“Are those the number of victims who lost their lives in the suicide incidents? No, that’s not right. There was a survivor in the second incident… so it means the number of people who participated in the mass suicides?”

Senpai nodded.