savethecitydesu | Sleuth!! The Ryuseki Newspaper Detective?!

Entry tags:

Sleuth!! The Ryuseki Newspaper Detective?!

Who: Mitsuya, open
What: Mitsuya is nosy.
When: The day after the magic incident, a bit after school.
Where: Ryuseki hallways.

Mitsuya's brief visit to the club she occasionally called home had left her in despair (at least, as much despair as she could be in, which wasn't much). As she saw it, her mission was to entertain and illuminate, to give people a taste of something apart from their dreary lives, not to elucidate more of that dreaded drudgery.

But Shinozaki-san had threatened to pull her column altogether if she refused the assignment, so to her dismay, she was stuck with it, and it with her. The thought hung over her like a nearly literal cloud.

But she was not one to sink into despair for long, and halfway to her locker, she'd figured out what she needed to brighten her spirits: an adventure. A new place to explore. Somewhere with an air of mystery, where rumors circulated like the wind.

She knew just the place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The shadow looked like... an oni? Or perhaps some variety of Western ogre. It was far more intelligent than she would expect either to be, whichever it was. It was rather difficult to tell from a silhouette, but just peering around the door couldn't hurt, surely?

Then again, it could hurt her. And without knowing the layout of the building, her options for escape were distressingly few. The window? She eyed it a little doubtfully. It was far from ideal, but it would be a satisfying continuation of this supernatural espionage she seemed to be doing.

The window strained and groaned at the unexpected force (little though it was) suddenly being put on it, and Mitsuya herself strained against its stubbornness. All the while, her eyes kept flicking back to the door, half-hoping and half-fearing that the oni-ogre-creature would beat her to the punch.

Maybe it could be negotiated with?

"I SMELL A HUMAN..." the voice growled, distinctly closer to the door. "IF I GET YOU, I'M GOING TO TAKE YOUR GUTS OUT AND WEAR IT AS A SCARF... BECAUSE THAT COLOR IS IN THIS SEASON," said the voice.

The window cracked a little, raising a few inches off the frame. It certainly looked like it would need a little extra force to open...!

"I think they may be a little pale for that."

Not that Mitsuya wanted her guts used as any sort of clothing at all. They were serving their function perfectly well inside her body, after all. But she couldn't resist engaging this being in conversation, although (or perhaps, in some small part, because?) it was trying to change that satisfactory state of affairs.

She did still have enough sense, nonetheless, to keep working at that window. It would be an unpleasant drop, if it came to that, but one did what one must to survive.

No sooner was she done talking that the door finally snapped open, and so it was that the monster, three feet tall and squat like a bulldog that had been left too long under an anvil, entered. The shadow had been a game of perspective.

The dwarf ogre, however, looked very pissed, which did very little to make up for the fact the azure-skinned, big-toothed, yellow monster was in a dandy little security outfit. His hair was also gelled and combed.

"AHAH. TALKING BACK TO AN ADULT. YOU ARE A VERY IMPOLITE YOUNG LADY, YOU KNOW THAT?" it said, brandishing a crowbar that was about as long as it stood tall.

It was actually... cute, in its own way, Mitsuya decided. Much smaller than its voice seemed to indicate, and embodying a fascinating cross between brutality and civilization. She had no doubt that it could and would use that crowbar on her to great effect if provoked to do so. All the more reason to have an escape ready.

"Why, I simply wanted to offer some *grunt* sartorial advice. Surely you *oof* agree that a richer red would bring out your *nngh* skin tone?" It wasn't quite open enough for her, but it was enough to slip her bag through, which she did. Hopefully she hadn't packed in anything fragile.

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I AM VERY FASHION AWARE, AND I THINK THAT MUTED COLORS ARE THE SAFER CHOICE THIS SUMMER."

"All the more reason to-- stand out--!" One good, forceful pull, and the window had scraped upward another inch or so. "Better to flatter your own assets, and have others follow in your footsteps. Perhaps a fresh blood or muscle red?"

The small lowered its head in thought. "HRMM. MAYBE. BUT I THOUGHT THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING TO BE SAID ABOUT A MODEST PALETTE. KIDNEY BROWN WAS VERY IN LAST OCTOBER--"

You cannot fool even the dumbest creature too long. "HEY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU'RE TRYING TO GET AWAY, AREN'T YOU? I'LL *MAKE* A FASHION STATEMENT OUT OF YOU!"

Oops. And she had so been enjoying this. She eyed the window; it was narrow, but probably just enough for her to slip out. Quickly might be another matter entirely...

"Ah, well, perhaps we'll be able to continue this discussion under better circumstances later." One foot through the window. "Do at least consider some brighter accents, won't you?"

Both feet through, aaaand let go. This could be unpleasant.

But thank goodness for that disciplinarian that just so HAPPENED to be leaping out of a window right below Mitsuya at the same time.

Takeo fell with an undignified, high-pitched shriek, going face first on the dirt, making the sound that he now produced automatically whenever he was hit by anything large enough at breakneck speed. "OUBAI--IIIEEEE--OOF!!"

Oh. That had been a surprisingly soft landing. Oddly pointy in places, though. Too large to be her bag...

She risked a glance beneath her, and found that one question had been answered, opening up a host of others at the same time. Her favorite kind of answer. "Why, fancy meeting you here, Akiyama-sama. Have you come to investigate the school's mysteries as well? I assure you, however many you think there are, it has many more than that." She beamed at him, though being face-down, he would probably be unable to see it. Oh well.

Takeo was smushed against the ground by the highschool journalist, who had fallen from the one story above just as he'd broken out of a window, gashing his arm in the process, after hearing a mysterious voice. All in all - thought the twitching tyrant - there was no better time for this than any other.

Without looking up, he reached into the pocket of his pants, took out a smartphone that was one generation old (but looked brand new) and, after blindly fumbling for some command that he apparently had learned by heart, so much that muscle memory served him well with no need to look, he pressed a button and played a loud.

"WA-WA-WA-WA." (http://www.instantsfun.es/sadtrombone)

Mitsuya was at once quietly impressed at Takeo's devotion to his particular brand of humor, and suddenly acutely aware of the situation they'd ended up in. She rolled onto the grass and picked herself up, grabbing her bag as well with a swooping motion that allowed a scroll up near the top to fly out and hit the wall without her notice.

"I'm terribly sorry about the landing, but when one is confronted by a miniature crowbar-wielding ogre, one does what one must."

Though she'd dipped into an apologetic bow, she was, she had to admit, still a bit giddy from the events upstairs. She was looking forward to getting home, blogging, and investigating the matter further. She wondered if she might encounter anything else on her way back...

Takeo was truly devoted to his humor, so much that he didn't have any strength to talk back, or even ask for help. He lifted up a hand, in what briefly looked like a plea for a helpful lift off the ground, but then his fingers wrapped up except one.

Just the index one, don't be silly.

If there was something Takeo did very well, it was this gesture. It was powerful in his pale hands. "I... accuse," he managed, before his arm flopped down.

Unfortunately for poor Takeo, the power of his lifted finger would go unappreciated (except, perhaps, by Tsuchi), for Mitsuya was already gone. She had a bad habit of disappearing even at the best of times, and when she had something like this to occupy her mind...

Well, no doubt there would be other times for Takeo to play Zola.

This moment of conversation had left Tsuchi with a few moments in which to climb gently out the window. He held the frame rather tightly - glancing with worry at the distance to the ground - but let his feet drop to the floor when he came to hear the sound of back-breaking pain below.

Nothing happened then - only a few occasions passed for a few musical phone calls. Which of course he kept watching. And his eyes followed the girl they'd been chasing as she left. But he was by then more worried about his friend on the floor. He began to feel like a nurse.

"Come on. We have to get you looked at or something," he said, expression turning from fretful to worried. He thought they ought to get at least some disinfectant or something.

So he offered a lifting hand. By the time he was finally convinced his friend was standing and stable on his feet, he went to pick up what Mitsuya had dropped, holding it under his arm first, and then finally with both hands. He was intent on handing it over for inspection before returning it later.

Takeo didn't reject the help. With a grunt, and a quiet, though sincere apology, he also took the chance to nudge Tsuchi away a little from being right outside the window, lest whoever was looking for them would peek out...

"Mmhm. Yeah... the nurse should have some medicine. I think, I hope. The principal doesn't go cheap on those..." he said, eyes finally landing on the object Tsuchi had picked up... What a strange thing. "Looks rather antique," he said, "and out of place for a school..." he added, limping ahead a few steps, but keeping side by side with Tsuchi.

Tsuchi inspected the scroll as Takeo mentioned it. He lifted it to his eyes, and when that did no good held it up to the waning sun. He was wondering by now if he should open it and learn what had actually brought someone out here to get rid of it. For his curiosity would not vanish.

He carefully avoided opening that by holding it out. And simply pass the problem onto his superior. "Looks creepy, if you ask me. Thing gives me the chills."

Takeo was putting two and two together. "I have to agree with you," he said, brows narrowing a bit. "I wonder what the hustle and bustle was about inside. Seems like there's a stranger in the school too-- I'm certainly not going inside to find out who it is, though. But I think we can safely presume it has to do with this," he gestured at the scroll, "and whatever Mitsuya-san was up to."

Silence.

"We shall have to prepare the tickle torture machine and get this out of here. Oh dear. And here I was hoping to save it for a special occasion."

Tsuchi's expression was warm and encouraging; but one could safely assume if the principal knew what he was thinking, she would be lost on what to say.

"Every occasion's special to someone, sir. Though I ain't sure Oubai would see it like that."

Then came a surprising interruption! An appearance that neither of the boys would expect. It was Iwata-sensei-- he was coming out of the old school building, and looking around, worry clear on his face...

"Huh... it's Iwata-sensei," Takeo noted, while narrowing his eyes. "I wonder... was he the guy who was going around? No, the voice didn't sound like him, now, did it? But... I don't remember seeing him coming in."

After a moment, he turned his eyes to Tsuchi. "Utazawa-kun, while normally I would encourage you to be on the spotlight... Today may be a different case. Hide that scroll. I want to know what the heck is going on..."

Tsuchi reached behind. One quick movement. A side-to-side search for room to hide the scroll caused him to realise there was none, simply leaving him no alternative. He removed his school jacket and rolled it around the item. He held it close to his chest.

"Umm, sure."

He then opened his eyes lazily. "But... really? They likely just patrol the place."

"He's a teacher, not a watchman. He should have other things to do with his time, like whimper about his low wages or drink away his income to drown the sorrows of his low wages, not skulk around an old building..." Takeo mused, walking along, trying to be nonchalant. "I don't know if it was foolery or what, but Mitsuya-san jumped from the second story of a building. I would know. I was there. She fell on me. It's safe to conclude that, unless she's part of the percentage of our society that finds life UNBEARABLE, something made her jump."

At that moment, Iwata caught sight of the two. Ah! The disciplinary committee kids... He approached them, still looking hurried and a bit tense. "Hey, Utazawa-kun, Akiyama-kun, have you noticed anyone going in-- what happened to Akiyama-kun's arm?!"

Sleuth!! The Ryuseki Newspaper Detective?!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)