"You don't think I'm going to let you leave so easily, do you?"
She had said these words in a low tone, while making sure that I could hear her clearly - even from across the room - and without any possible misinterpretation on my end.
Was this her way of threatening me? I was usually very slow to pick up on clues about someone's behavior; in everyday life. But for once, I seemed to understand very quickly what she meant by that.
It made sense, somehow. I had seen something that she apparently wanted to keep secret. So she had sought to isolate me in that room. But I also knew something now, which my emotionless brain had figured out using relentless logic.
I had understood our respective positions and roles, and how to take advantage of them.
The strange woman then turned to me, and asked:
"So? Aren't you scared for your life now?"
She said this with a look of both amusement and carnivorousness; as if she hoped to see me act in some way.
Except that I wasn't really the kind of individual who would have similar reactions to any normal person.
I was an anomaly, after all.
This woman slowly made her way back to the small coffee table, walking silently and with an almost supernatural grace, before sitting down again as if nothing had happened in front of me.
And she was obviously waiting for an answer from me.
"No, not at all." I answered point-blank.
"Oh?" she asked, obviously pleasantly surprised by what I had just said. "And why is that?"
She seemed obviously amused.
Which, on the contrary, annoyed me. I had come for one reason after all, and that reason was far removed from the discussion at hand. But if I had to go through with it...
"We are in an inn in the middle of the day. I drove my car here and there are several intersections equipped with cameras along the way." I explained calmly. "Besides, I am being expected somewhere else today, which means that my disappearance could be reported very quickly. Therefore I am absolutely safe, even if you are planning to kill me, you won't do it today; nor here."
Again, she was impressed with my analysis of the situation, then rummaged through a bag that was right next to her on the floor, pulling out a business card which she placed on the table. She then slid it towards me, and pulling her hand away, I finally discovered what was written on it.
"Orion, detective agency?" I read aloud, somewhat disconcerted.
So that explained why she had searched for my identity, and how she had so accurately and precisely deduced certain aspects of my private life.
She was a private investigator.
It was rather... mundane, really.
But this new information also raised many new questions. I looked up at her, and saw her once again leaning on the kotatsu table.
"You seem disappointed that I am not a simple murderer who has set a trap for you..." She observed. "Or a stalker who targeted you..."
"No, not really..." I said, staring at the hopelessly empty business card aside from the few words I had read on it.
There wasn't even a phone number, or her name. Just those few words, lost in the middle of the card whose thick paper I felt under my fingers.
I still didn't know her name. When she seemed to know so much about me. It was a bit unfair, from my point of view.
But even though I knew less about her, it didn't change the current situation. A situation that she always thought was to her advantage, when in reality it was just the opposite.
She tapped her thin fingers on the wood of the table several times; as if my reaction had destabilized her, and that she was thinking of a way to get around the pitfall I had created in the discussion. This was usually what happened, when someone tried to have a conversation with me.
"Well, now that you know what I do for a living, you know that I can find you no matter where you hide, and even dig up some dirt on you," she explained. "Which brings me to the current problem...."
She then took one of the tangerines from the bowl in front of her, and squeezing it tightly in one of her hands, ended bursting it; spilling the juice of the fruit all over the kotatsu table. Then, releasing her grip, the fruit fell limply on the table, the pulp and the skin mixing in a shapeless heap.
She was telling me to stop watching TV, but at that moment she was acting exactly like those B-movie villains. So I wasn't worried at all. She even seemed to be acting like those low-level villains at the beginning of some Shonen, who were only there to be quickly beaten by the hero without even having time to strike a blow.
Lots of words, but not that much action, in short.
Perhaps she was also amused by the situation, because she then began to pick up pieces of the shattered fruit, and ate some; before speaking again.
"You saw something you should never have seen." She eventually said.
She was probably hoping I'd say something, the way she was looking at me, but I only looked at her neck, carefully observing the scar that was now on it.
Her skin was quite pale, and her features rather delicate. But her vulnerable appearance seemed to hide something intense, something seething. I had only caught a glimpse of it, but I was willing to bet that her temperament was the opposite of her calm and collected appearance.
And obviously, while I was thinking about this, I had been silent for too long for her taste.
"You're not very talkative, you..." She complained, dejected. "At least that's reassuring, I guess..."
It seemed so simple, to reveal this kind of expression. And yet, this thing, so natural and easy to do, was out of my reach.
I wish I could be as expressive as her...
She then took out a small notebook and pen from her bag, and having opened it to a blank page, asked me while writing something in it:
"So? What do you want in exchange for your silence? Tell me anything. Your price will be mine."
Was she asking me if I wanted anything, in return for my pledge to never say anything about what I had witnessed the night before?
Already, she had raised her sharp gaze to me; full of expectation.
If I understood the situation correctly, she didn't want what I saw - whatever it was - to get out. She had even gone so far as to seek my identity, and threaten to call the police.
It was as if she was desperate, scared about it being exposed.
This put me in a position of power over her. I had the advantage in this negotiation, despite everything she had done so far to intimidate me. And if I had leverage, it meant that I could virtually demand anything from her.
Getting up to stand in front of her, who had remained seated, I made the decision to address the reason I had acted so impulsively so far.
"I want you to make me feel things."