3 bar menu

V7 Story I – Part 01

Do you find yourself bored, dear guests?

Are you bored, dear guests?

You seem bored, dear guest.

The audience’s boredom is a disgrace for jesters, actors, and singers alike.

Then, might I suggest a different performance dedicated solely to your enjoyment?

Let us begin with a tale—a story that resembles a fable.

Once upon a time, there was a faithful dog and an honest master.

However, let it be known that while this tale holds significance, there is no lesson to be learned.

Lesson. Lesson. Lesson. Lesson. Lesson. Lesson. Lesson. Lesson.

Many a soul yearns for such teachings, yet they elude our grasp.

Perhaps there may lie some hidden meaning in this story, but nothing as grand as a lesson.

Nonetheless, if you are still interested, please make yourself comfortable and lend an ear.

There is still tea available, and should you desire snacks, there is plenty to indulge in.

It’s just a silly story about a dog and a corpse.

As I opened the door, a waft of a sweet aroma greeted me.

The air was tainted by the smell of chocolate.

Despite November’s frigid embrace outside, the climate-controlled room was void of any seasonal chill, and was filled with sweet, stagnant air.

I heaved a deep sigh and clenched my gloved hands. I’d been wearing gloves to hide my scars, but it still felt weird. Disturbing the sugary air, I hastened to the living room.

There lay a black figure on the leather couch, her skirt, with its intricate design, spread out like butterfly wings.

Mayuzumi Azaka raised her milky-white arm, the winter light casting a melancholic shadow upon her slender frame. Her perfect beauty bore a hint of immutable sorrow.

In a slow, languid motion, she reached for a piece of chocolate, then froze.

Her scarlet lips parted. “I’m bored to death, Odagiri-kun.”

“Mayu-san, repeating the same sentiment again and again will make you stupid.”

I had heard those words countless times already. Mayuzumi bit into the chocolate roughly.

Burying her face in the cushion, she heaved a deep sigh. “Ahh, your heartlessness seems to grow with each passing day. It’s hardly amusing.”

“That’s a good thing. In the end, I will become a most unamusing person,” I retorted with a dry laugh.

She had absolutely no right to be using me for amusement.

Mayuzumi flicked her hand in annoyance without lifting her face from the cushion. “Can’t you make progress in a less unpleasant way? Would it kill you to try to keep your employer happy? Your confusion is a kind of entertainment. It’s better than having nothing at all.”

“I’m not a mouse to your cat,” I replied. “If you’re feeling bored, why not find some healthy hobby? Sleeping all day won’t get you anywhere.”

Grumbling wouldn’t change a thing, yet Mayuzumi refused to make a single move.

Following the Ugoshi incident, we went through some chaotic events until the disturbing cases stopped coming. Days without any incidents, calm as the windless sea, passed by. While Mayuzumi was perpetually bored, I savored the tranquility.

Mayuzumi Asato remained asleep. Despite being burdened by the fox’s existence, my everyday life remained normal. I had encountered several tragic events, the ones involving the eyeballs, spiders, crows, yet I spent my days like nothing had happened.

The definition of “ordinary” was becoming more and more ambiguous. It wasn’t an acceptable state of affairs by any means, and yet the reality was that my days were now peaceful. I was persevering through a twisted life.

But tranquility was poison to Mayuzumi. She spent her days sleeping and grumbling repeatedly.

With a sigh, I strode across the room and into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I expected to find an array of fruits that I had purchased recently for a chocolate fondue that Mayuzumi had requested. I had been bombarded by her other unreasonable demands until now. Making it could maybe help alleviate her boredom.

“Mayu-san,” I called. “Do you want chocolate fondue? Or is there something else you—”

My breath seized. The fridge was empty.

The chocolate and fruits had both vanished without a trace, replaced only by a haphazard assortment of apple cores, pineapple containers, and chocolate wrappers. In the door shelf was a tangle of ribbons.

I closed the refrigerator door in silence and made my way back to the living room with long, determined strides.

Mayuzumi was staring at the ceiling listlessly. I crossed my arms and peered down at her.

I took a deep breath. “Listen, Mayu-san. It’s your food, so I’ll let the overeating slide. But at least throw away the trash! Leaving food scraps around is the one thing I won’t tolerate. If I wasn’t here, this apartment would be taken over by cockroaches and meet a miserable fate.”

“Hold on a minute,” Mayuzumi said, frowning. “What are you talking about? Where is this lecture coming from? Are cockroaches breeding abnormally?”

I was about to tell her to stop evading the subject, but stopped, closing my mouth. Something was amiss.

Mayuzumi was lazy, but she had never left garbage in the fridge before.

But then how did that mess in the fridge happen? Who could have eaten the food?

“Mayu-san, did any guests come while I was away?” I asked.

“I don’t remember having any guests,” Mayuzumi replied. “Besides, I am resourceful enough to deal with cockroach infestations before they could take over the apartment. Please stop with the disgusting thoughts.”

I ignored her whining and looked around the room once more.

The space, isolated from the outside world, was the same as it had always been. Mayuzumi was lying down amidst the sugary aroma. Her slender ankles glittered in a bluish hue, and the butterfly ornament on her milky skin swayed.

I could see the hallway through the open door. Some sort of cloth was caught in the door of Mayuzumi’s room.

…A cloth?

“Mayu-san, did you open the door to your room?” I asked.

“No, I have not opened either of the rooms,” she answered wearily. She lifted her body up and picked up her cup.

I stepped out onto the corridor and headed to her room. A lovely skirt with laces was peeking out through the door. It seemed like a doll’s clothes, probably one of the heaps of junk inside. Who opened the door, though?

The moment I grabbed the doorknob, the doorbell rang.

I froze. I let go of the knob and turned my gaze towards Mayuzumi, who was elegantly tilting her cup.

Opening one eye, she glanced at me with the gaze of a cat. “What are you doing? It’s probably a client.”

It was about time one arrived. Alas, peace never lasts long.

Mayuzumi’s clients usually arrived via acquaintances or relatives, but some showed up unannounced. I moved away from her room and steadied my breathing. I clenched my palm tightly, and the synthetic leather squeaked. Steeling myself, I made my way down the corridor briskly and opened the door.

Click.

A tense gaze looked up at me. The woman in pants shuddered.

There was a skeptical glint in her eyes framed by short hair. But there was no hint of madness in them.

And yet, she looked terribly anxious.

“Welcome to the Mayuzumi Psychic Detective Agency,” I said. “Are you a client?”

After several seconds of silence, the woman slowly nodded.