Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

Senpai’s stubbornness exceeded his expectations slightly, but that was all. He had no intention of objecting; after all, he was her assistant.

“Alright, let’s go together.”

He stood up from the chair, stretched his body, and followed leisurely behind the prosecutor.

…

Under Kazuki-san’s guidance, the Novelist passed through long corridors bustling with people, eventually reaching the deepest part of the floor—the entrance to the meeting room.

“…”

As Kazuki-san placed his hand on the door, the Novelist found the surrounding light somewhat harsh. Squinting his eyes, he turned his head to one side.

At the end of the corridor, beyond the window, a gray-white steel jungle stretched toward the horizon, bathed in the brilliant afterglow of the setting sun. It reminded him of the scenery when he first met Senpai.

The troubles that had lingered in his mind back then… Yes, the pain of being unable to write. And the reason? It stemmed from the protagonist’s own struggles.

When authors describe stories, they often use the change in their characters as a theme: experiencing setbacks, finding spiritual encouragement, maturing, growing.

The world is full of stories about protagonists who change gradually. Whether changing from cowardly to strong, from dark and twisted to understanding others, from being ostracized to popular, from a despised weakling to a figure admired and feared by countless people… What people see are always stories describing growth; what readers welcome are stories of constant change.

But when the raging storms end and everything vanishes like smoke, if the protagonist hasn’t changed at all—hasn’t been able to change anything—such a world exists too, doesn’t it?

Not changing is fine.

That’s good.

“I’ll solve this case as a detective!”

Such an auditory hallucination echoed in his ears.

Within it was a radiance of spirit and willpower that was impossible to look away from.

Even if the mastermind was defeated and the criminal arrested, the case wouldn’t be truly solved, nor would it save anyone. This was precisely the divergence between fiction and reality.

But if it were the “protagonist,” everything would be different!

…

Kazuki-san looked at him with some confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

The Novelist put his hands in his pockets and exhaled deeply.

“…No, nothing.”

Now, that “trouble” had somehow disappeared deep within his mind. Because at an unexpected place and time, the great detective would make her cool entrance—

Yes, just like a true “protagonist.”

“You’re late!”

Asami-senpai was sitting in the chair closest to the door, pressing down on her sleeves while rocking back and forth in her seat, restlessly swinging her black-socked legs.

After seeing the Novelist enter the meeting room, the girl puffed her cheeks in dissatisfaction.

“As my assistant, you’re really slacking off!”

“I’m sorry.”

While calming the irritated Senpai, the Novelist watched Asami Yuko’s swaying head, recalling the soft sensation of stroking a cat’s fur. A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind about wanting to ruffle her hair into a mess… Really, just a little bit!

“No, you can’t!”

Senpai suddenly stopped her steady movement, wrapped her arms around her head, and curled her petite body in the chair, glaring at him warily.

The other meeting participants were watching her odd behavior with bewildered gazes.

Can you read minds?!

“…”

The person sitting at the top was a dignified, stern-looking elderly man. His gaze swept back and forth between the Novelist and Asami Yuko.

“Please find a seat and sit down.”

The elderly man was tall with a square face, wearing round-framed glasses and a serious expression. He showed no unusual attitude as he nodded to the Novelist in acknowledgment.

“Now, the meeting can officially begin. Asami-san has been paying close attention to the recent series of mass suicides occurring throughout Tokyo, and was also a witness at the train track incident…”

As the elderly man spoke, Kazuki-san walked past the seated Novelist, bending down to whisper in his ear.

“I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t follow protocol from the beginning, and you’re probably not used to it… Anyway, if you want to flirt with Asami-san, I suggest you hold back for a while.”

The prosecutor patted his shoulder and returned to his own seat.

What just happened wasn’t… No, wait. Before instinctively refuting, the Novelist thought carefully and concluded that the assessment of “flirting” was probably not wrong.

“Before establishing the joint investigation headquarters and beginning the first investigation meeting, I’d like to ask Asami-san to speak and introduce the specific situation to everyone.”

…

There were fifteen attendees in the meeting room, which had the typical structure of a long table with chairs and dark, soft carpeting. Apart from a large vase placed at the back door, there were no other decorations. Opposite the door was a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. A projector was installed on the ceiling at the front, with a large screen at the back.

The space was quite expansive; it felt like there might even be a shooting range at the other end of the long table. But according to Kazuki-san’s introduction on the way, when the Metropolitan Police Department later held formal investigation meetings, the venue would only need to be larger. This place was generally used for informal meetings held by the upper echelons.

Using a remote control while displaying relevant information on the big screen and providing accompanying commentary, Asami-senpai’s performance was now quite normal. Perhaps due to familiarity, she didn’t show any of her eccentric or clumsy sides in front of these important figures attending the meeting… Then again, she was a genuine detective.

Not just a mysterious profession existing only in detective novels, but a girl living the life of an urban high school student. It was truly interesting.

“…”

He wasn’t particularly interested in Asami-senpai’s presentation since he had already heard most of it before. Now he was more concerned about his empty stomach. If his stomach growled, wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

“Grrr.”

It was a very slight sound, but everyone in the meeting room heard it. It came from Asami Yuko’s stomach. Come to think of it, Senpai hadn’t eaten lunch either—just like him.

“…One of the mastermind’s aims is to create chaos through widespread social attention. So far, this has been quite successful, though the motive is still unclear…”

She continued almost without pause! As expected of Senpai! It would have been perfect—if only she hadn’t bitten her tongue.