The Jealous Detective Won't Tolerate Lies

1

I remember feeling breathless when I first saw her from behind.

Her black hair, longer than her shoulder blades, swayed with every movement, and in her delicate, slender hands, she held a small watering can. With tender, loving motions, she poured water onto the flower bed, and the plants seemed to rejoice in the nourishment.

More than anything, the rare glimpse of her profile, which seemed to express quiet sorrow, stayed with me.

A profile that seemed it bore a profound sadness.

Oh, you came, Kei. Hello.

Turning around at the sound of my footsteps, Kanna's eyes softened as she smiled.

H-hello, Kanna.

You've been in this club for a week now, haven't you?

That's right.

There's a perfect club for you. It doesn't have many members, and it should meet your requirements.

It was Ms. Komori who drew me into this club with those words, even though, by mid-May, just before the final deadline to join, I still hadn't been able to decide on a club, and the weather had already started to heat up.

She was a teacher who looked great with glasses and a ponytail. In her late twenties, she had likely never been married, as her PC search history included "How to easily seduce high-earning men." . . . What was she researching at work?

I do think mandatory participation in clubs and committees is outdated these days. Either way, I've heard about your circumstances.

With those words, Ms. Komori guided me to a flower bed in the gardening club, adding a sweet, enticing remark.

There's one upperclassman there who is both beautiful and has a good personality.

That was exactly one week ago.

It's not like there's that much to do, but . . . would you like to try watering them too, Kei? Come on, come over here.

To me, she was truly a goddess.

Kanna called me over and placed the watering can in my hands. Her fingertips touched the back of my hand in the process. Her fingers were cool.

Her almond-shaped eyes and long lashes, gave an air of intensity, yet her large pupils held the sweetness of a small animal. Her lips, thin but not overly so, reflected light with a natural, rosy hue. Her flowing black hair remained dark even in the sunlight, and her face, framed by it, was incredibly small.

I think they're all happy too, getting water from you, Kei—eek!

The wind blew, lifting her hair gently upward.

A peach-like scent came from those thread-like strands as they brushed against my cheek.

Oh, my hair's all messy . . . darn.

Darn?

Huh? Oh, no . . . shoot . . . I had it all styled too. Hehe.

Your hair always looks beautiful, Kanna.

. . . You really do speak your mind, don't you, Kei? I like that about you.

Kanna smiled as she smoothed down her hair.

She was so lovely. I began watering the flower bed, mimicking the way she had done it.

That's it.

The plants certainly did seem happy . . .

But I couldn't put off asking about it any longer.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and turned to face her.

Kanna, there's something I'd like to ask you.

What is it? Go ahead, if it's something I can answer.

All week, I'd been thinking there must be some reason she was doing things this way. I'd assumed she would eventually explain it to me. But it seemed like I would have to be the one to bring it up.

Why . . . are there only weeds in this flower bed?

It was a world of green as far as the eyes could see. The flower bed was completely overrun with weeds.

I thought gardening was about growing flowers and things like that . . . but there are only weeds here, aren't there?

Isn't it beautiful? All that green feels so pleasant, doesn't it?

But these are weeds. Since we're the gardening club, wouldn't it be better to actually plant flowers and do proper activities—

. . . Are weeds really so wrong?

In an instant, the atmosphere around her shifted.

She lowered her face, and her eyes, peering through the gaps in her hanging hair, locked onto mine. My body froze, as if I'd been paralyzed.

A frog being stared down by a snake—those words flashed through my mind.

Why? Why should I? Flowers are just—they're so enviable.

The watering can fell from my hands.

Since you joined the club but didn't mention it, I hoped you might be the same as me . . . What a disappointment you turned out to be. How cruel.

Huh . . . huh?

My gentle, smiling goddess had completely vanished and was replaced by someone filled with hatred.

Why do I have to grow flowers? I hate them so much. They're so enviable. They're are just pretty and wither away quickly—they're worse than weeds. I don't need them.

Worse than weeds . . .

I'm jealous, so jealous . . . They get pampered just for being pretty, but I've never been treated that way in my entire life. It's disgusting!

I could hear her grinding her teeth, and it made me nearly forget to breathe.

. . . I'm so jealous.

Hwr jealousy was overwhelming. She spread her arms wide and spoke as if giving a speech.

Just look at the weeds. See? Even though they're usually stepped on, they're still struggling to survive, aren't they? That wretchedness—I love it.

I-I see . . . wait, what?

Did she just say she loves wretchedness?

What did you say?

Oh my, weren't you listening?

She said this with a smile.

I love them because they're wretched—the weeds, I mean. They make me feel superior, and that's comforting.

Hehe.

She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed. That smile was like a snake eyeing its prey.

. . . Oh no, I've gotten caught up with the wrong person. That was my gut reaction.

Ms. Komori, when you said someone had a 'good personality,' there was no way you meant it in the traditional sense.

2

. . . It's over. It's all over. A whole week of effort . . . How stupid am I?

Crows cawed in the sky as the evening sun began to set.

Kanna was sitting with her knees drawn up against the wall of the school building.

. . . It's wrong to make me put on an act in the first place. What's all this 'you can easily wrap a freshman boy around your finger' nonsense? That was asking way too much . . .

Um, are you okay . . . ?

She glanced at me briefly, then immediately looked away.

. . . I'm jealous. I'm jealous of how composed you are, how you can be kind to someone like me.

What does she even mean by "jealous"? I crouched down to meet Kanna's gaze.

It's almost time to head home. We should go.

. . . Fine. I'll become fertilizer. I'll become food for these weeds. Tomorrow, when my corpse is discovered in the flower bed, please take care of everything . . .

That's a massive deal! You can't just drop that casually!

And given the circumstances, I'd probably be the one suspected. The six o'clock chime rang right on cue.

Come on, let's go home.

I can't stand up. So I'm not going home. I'm a weed. I've put down roots right here.

What is she even going on about . . .

You just thought, 'What an idiot,' didn't you? You don’t just speak your mind, it's written all over your face. You're ridiculously easy to read.

. . . Sorry. I've always been bad at hiding my emotions.

You're hopeless. I hereby grant you the title of Human Emotion Faucet. From today on, call yourself Mr. Can't-Keep-Anything-Inside.

The insults are piling up . . . There's absolutely no way I'm accepting a nickname like that.

Come on, let's go home, okay? Stand up.

No. A whole week's worth of effort down the drain. The image of myself I worked so hard to build is ruined . . . Now you probably just think I'm a woman with nothing to offer but a pretty face.

You're awfully confident about that one thing, at least . . .

Well, she really does have a pretty face. I mean, she's exactly my type, actually.

. . . Hmm. Something's wrong with my butt . . .

Kanna placed her hand on the right side and lifted the opposite side of her bottom.

Something's . . . ow! An ant?! No, no! Wait, it's in my underwear . . . !

In her panic, Kanna lifted her skirt. A black dot was racing up the exposed back of her thigh at breakneck speed.

Oh no, putting down roots—

That's what she gets for sitting flat on the ground after saying something like that . . .

K-Kei! Get it out! Noo! It's crawling! It's crawling all over my skin!

Huh?!

No! It's going in! Hey, stop it! Don't touch me there!

If someone overhears this, they'll get the wrong idea, so please stop!

Then do something about it!

What am I supposed to do when she says something like that? Stick my hand up her skirt? Or pull down her underwear? No way, that's impossible!

She was on the verge of tears, sticking her butt out in my direction. Upperclassman. Older than me. Beautiful. And her butt . . . All the right ingredients were there—and yet, not even a hint of sex appeal. Strange.

Don't complain about this later!

This was the only option! Drawing my arm back high in the air, I brought my palm down hard.

I've never been spanked by my parents or my sister . . . what an unexpected first experience.

It was my first time too. I mean, the experience of slapping a girl's butt to kill an ant.

You seemed quite practiced at it. Do you do that kind of training regularly?

What kind of training would that be?

Oh, but . . .

I brought up something that had just occurred to me.

When bugs show up at home, I'm the one who has to deal with them, so maybe that's why.

So my butt is equivalent to bugs . . . ?

On the way home from school, I let Kanna lean on my shoulder as we walked together.

This was my first time walking home with Kanna, whom I'd admired. This should have felt perfect, but it didn't feel ideal at all. How did this person manage to keep up an act for a whole week?!

. . . Let's talk about something to take our minds off things.

Her face was contorted with pain.

Let's see . . . how about we talk about things we hate?

Normally, wouldn't it be things you like . . . ?

What are you talking about? People can't understand each other without knowing what they hate. Are you stupid?

I'd always thought you became friends through shared interests and hobbies.

You see, I hate a lot of different things. Really, so many things.

She spoke with a radiant smile, as if to say, "Pretty amazing, right?" Why did she have to say something like that with the cutest expression I'd ever seen?

. . . You hate a lot of different things?

Hehe. No, I suppose it would be more accurate to say I'm jealous of them.

In an instant, her smile disappeared. She nodded, eyes gleaming like a villain who had just spotted their prey.

I'm jealous of everything. Happy people, beautiful things, people who have something to strive for. Everything, everything . . . I'm jealous of it all. It's always been that way.

I'd never heard someone use the word "jealous" so many times in one conversation.

But there are things I like too. Miserable people, stupid people, people and things beneath me, people who are hated. And mysteries—I love mysteries.

. . . Mysteries?

Of all the concerning things she'd just said, "mysteries" was somehow what caught my attention most.

Yes.

Kanna's expression softened into something almost dreamy.

Mysteries are wonderful. Don't you think so? Everyone loves them, right? Mysteries with culprits—with villains.

Well, when you put it like that . . .

Just think about it. The villain gets cornered more and more, right? And you can put them through any kind of torment you want. Because they're the bad guy, after all. You slowly tighten the noose around their neck. Is there any better method than that?

Uh, I see . . .

You corner the villain with deduction, and in the end you make them confess everything—mystery-solving is intellectual torture.

Intellectual torture . . . That's quite an intense way to put it.

Right? Are you jealous of my way with words?

Look at that smug expression. I was definitely not jealous.

Besides, it wasn't not like those kinds of mystery situations just happen in real life.

As I was racking my brain over what topic to change to next, we turned a corner—and I stopped dead in my tracks at the scene that greeted us.

Red. Blood.

. . . Huh?

There was someone collapsed on the roadside—a girl wearing our high school uniform, lying face-down. Her skin was sun-kissed, and the glimpse of her calves gave the impression of a strong, athletic build.

Nearby, a bicycle lay on its side, its basket badly dented.

K-Kanna! This . . . !

Kanna was staring at the girl with a serious expression. Her already pale skin had turned even whiter, and she stood frozen in place without blinking.

Kanna . . . ?

Kanna's mouth twisted, and she broke into a run toward the female student.

What the heck is going on?!

Following after her, I rushed to the collapsed student's side. Blood was flowing from her head, creating small rivulets on the ground. There was a wound on her forehead, and its vividness made me feel slightly sick. I looked at her mouth . . . Thank goodness. She seemed to be breathing.

Call an ambulance.

Kanna glanced at me and shouted instructions.

Hurry up!

Y-yes!

I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed 119, the number for emergency services.

During that time, Kanna crouched down beside the girl, studying her closely as she pulled out her phone without taking her eyes off her.

I heard a click . . . Was she taking photos?

H-hey! What are you doing?

After somehow managing to finish my first 119 call, I approached Kanna without even a moment to catch my breath. Ignoring my words, Kanna now began lifting the student's skirt, exposing her underwear. I hurriedly looked away.

Out of the corner of my eye, something strange caught my attention.

. . . What are you doing?

Kanna was lying down next to the injured girl—literally flat on the ground. They seemed to be about the same height, because their heads and feet were perfectly aligned.

Take a picture—with your phone. Of me, right now.

. . . Huh? What are you talking about?

Hurry up. The ambulance will be here soon!

Uh, ah, okay!

Caught up in Kanna's urgency, I awkwardly took a photo of both the injured girl and Kanna with my phone. When I handed it to her, Kanna immediately checked the screen.

Just as I thought.

She muttered quietly to herself.

What exactly was "just as she thought," and what was she so sure about? I was completely in the dark.

No, this wasn't the moment to worry about that. The girl needed help first. Or maybe it was better not to touch her and wait for the paramedics?

While I was hesitating, Kanna began picking up the bicycle.

Now what in the world . . .

Either she couldn't hear me or she was ignoring me—Kanna got on the bicycle and rode off.

What the hell are you doing?!

Gahhh!

But Kanna crashed almost immediately after she started pedaling, going down spectacularly.

Ow . . .

She was now on the verge of tears.

. . . You can't ride a bicycle, can you?

What are you talking about? Don't be ridiculous—I just can't do it properly unless it's my own bike.

That's the kind of excuse elementary school kids make . . .

Kanna stood up, dusting off her skirt. Her left knee was scraped and bleeding.

. . . Oh, for crying out loud.

I took mineral water and some bandages out of my bag.

I'm going to clean this up and put a bandage on it, okay?

You're so prepared, carrying things like that around. Not that I'm jealous or anything.

I'd be troubled if she were jealous of something like this. Besides, these bandages have been in there since middle school.

Make sure you disinfect it properly when you get home.

. . . Hmph. Thanks.

After I bandaged her knee and she thanked me, Kanna looked off in a completely different direction, then got back on the bicycle as if nothing had happened. She sat motionless for a few seconds, then turned back around. Her face was bright red.

. . . I want you to push me. I mean . . . I can't ride it.

Riding a bicycle in this situation was completely pointless to begin with. But if I refused, she'd probably try to pedal off on her own again. It would be better to just get this over with quickly.

Fine, fine.

I checked to make sure no cars were coming, then quietly grabbed the rear rack. She began to pedal forward, slowly.

D-don't let go. If you let go, my bodily fluids will come out again.

You mean blood?! Don't use such weird phrasing!

As I scolded her for her suggestive word choice, we moved forward about ten meters before Kanna hit the brakes. After getting her skirt hem caught on the saddle and having to fix it, she finally got off the bicycle and returned to where we'd started.

Hmph.

She snorted with satisfaction.

Just as I thought.

Kanna muttered to herself again.

Suddenly, as if to drown out her words, the wail of an ambulance siren filled the air.

. . . So, and, in other words . . .

Kanna clenched her teeth hard and looked down at the unconscious student—no, looked down on her—and murmured.

. . . I'm so jealous.

3

The student was taken away in the ambulance. We were told that a teacher from school would come pick us up, so we were ordered to wait where we were. About ten minutes later, a car pulled up in front of us.

The person who emerged was wearing a white coat and red-rimmed glasses.

. . . Nobody here, I guess.

She immediately did an about-face and tried to get back in the car.

No, no, no!

I rushed over to the car in a panic.

Why are you trying to leave?! Ms. Komori!

Hmm? Oh my, if it isn't Kei. I just happened to stop here to have a smoke, you know?

She slipped in a lie like it was nothing. Some role model of a teacher she was!

The key is to run away from troublesome situations. Remember that well.

Oh, I'll remember it all right! That you're that kind of person!

I want to avoid trouble! I want to get credit! What's wrong with that?! What kind of society is this?!

. . . Maybe we really were doomed. This woman was both a teacher and our club advisor. As I gloomily imagined the future of the gardening club and our school, Kanna nonchalantly opened the back door of the car and got in.

Hurry up and get in too, Kei.

Somehow, she’d dropped the polite tone when saying my name. Not that I minded.

Ms. Komori looked at Kanna and shrugged slightly, then looked at me.

. . . Oh well. Kei, you get in too.

At Ms. Komori's words, I sat down next to Kanna. Water bottles and snack bags were scattered all over the car. Not a messy room but a messy car.

We're heading to the hospital now. Got it?

She continued while glancing at us in the rearview mirror.

Now then, Kanta—

Kanta? When did I become a guy?

Then how about Miss Kanna . . . Little Miss Kanna.

Stop it. That makes my skin crawl.

Kantarou.

Who?!

Kanna was leaning forward next to me. Ms. Komori smiled wryly at this.

Well, whatever. But Kanna, did Kei already figure out your true nature? You're talking pretty naturally now.

. . . Even so, I tried hard enough to break out in hives for a whole week.

Ha, is that so? You really did try hard. But now we've got a new club member, and of course Kei isn't the type of heartless person to quit now—right?

Our eyes met in the mirror. I looked away.

Well, even if you did submit a withdrawal form, I wouldn't accept it anyway! Hahaha!

What's so funny?! I was silently fuming when Ms. Komori's tone suddenly became more serious.

By the way, Kanna. You figured something out, didn't you?

What are you talking about?

I didn't see anything around where Keika collapsed that would've caused her bike to crash. There weren't any stones or broken asphalt she could've tripped over. Kyoka's the ace of the track team—she's not the type to fall for no reason.

. . . Hmph, I have no sympathy for that woman at all. It's her own fault.

Ho ho, her own fault? That's quite a way to put it.

I'm jealous. I hate that girl.

I had no idea what they were talking about. What exactly was going on?

Ms. Komori spoke with a nurse in the lobby. We were guided to Keika's hospital room.

There, Keika was sitting up in bed, listening to what the nurse was saying.

The nurse gave a polite bow and left the room. Keika turned to face us, her head wrapped in bandages, with gauze patches covering her neck and cheek.

. . . Ms. Komori . . .

Keika suddenly got up from the bed and stumbled toward us unsteadily.

Ms. Komori! I need to cry!

Hey, don't get out of bed without permission! I'm the one who'll get yelled at!

Ms. Komori pushed Keika away, who had thrown herself at the teacher. But she wouldn't let go.

Ugh, gah. Keika, stop crushing me with that shot put strength of yours! Don't wipe your nose on my white coat! That's gross!

That's terribleee! You're a failure as a teacher!

You're a failure as an injured person! What kind of patient has this much energy?! You gorilla!

Seeing Keika still crying and wailing, Ms. Komori shook her head.

Good grief.

She sighed and rubbed Keika's back.

It's already dirty anyway, so do what you want. But don't blow your nose on my white coat.

Wahh! I love you, teacher . . . why are you a woman?

If I were a man, all the girls at school would be mine. I would've been fired.

Where does that confidence come from?

When Keika pulled her face away from the teacher, her gaze fell on me and Kanna standing behind her.

Are they your children, teacher?

How old do you think I am? Look closely. They're wearing our school uniform.

The teacher adjusted her crooked glasses.

These two found you. They also called the ambulance.

Oh, really?

Keika looked down briefly, then looked up and met our eyes. She bowed her head.

Really, thank you. You saved me.

Her heartfelt gratitude warmed my heart.

I'm glad you seem to be okay.

Yeah! I was super shocked when I woke up in the ambulance! It was my first time riding in one!

That would definitely be surprising.

There was some stranger right in front of me and I almost punched him!

Haha.

. . . Good thing she didn't punch him. Really.

I'm going to step out for a bit.

With that, Kanna left the hospital room. Was it my imagination, or did she look somewhat pale?