Morofushi Hiromitsu was six years old when he first met Ichijō Mirai.
It was on the way to school.
He was happily chatting with a friend, when suddenly, intuitively, he felt a subtle...
Gaze.
It was an alarm bell that seemed to be instinctively engraved.
He subconsciously looked up and saw a child younger than himself sitting on the wall.
It was a dark-haired, red-eyed child who stared at Morofushi Hiromitsu without saying anything, just staring, almost exactly like the crows staring deathly from the trees nearby, as if to say.
I'll be watching you, always.
And then he leaned back and disappeared behind the wall, quieter than a cat jumping off a wall.
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "..."
The second meeting was three months later.
It was the weekend before his parents left for work, and he had packed up his toys, prepared hot tea, and opened the windows to air out the house, waiting for his parents to come home.
...And was killed by an open window.
Outside the window was not the usual view, or rather, not just the usual view, but a child dangling upside down.
It was the raven-haired kid from last time.
He was right behind the window, where he was supposed to be, and almost collided head-on with Morofushi Hiromitsu, who was struggling to push the window open.
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "..."
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "!!!!"
Wh-what horror movie scene?!
He's half out of his mind and half out of his body, and he's ready to scream, he just needs to talk.
The raven-like ghost looked at Morofushi Hiromitsu for a moment, only to realize that he had been discovered and swung up smoothly, as if he had realized that he had been discovered.
He swung down again with a blinding white light, "Snap."
He swung up again and disappeared in a flash.
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "..."
During that time, he asked his parents many times 'Did the previous owner of our house have any children? Did the child pass away?' 'Are there really ghosts in the world?' 'Are there any talismans in the house? Ghosts don't seem to be able to get in.'
He often talked to himself when no one was around, 'You look like the detective on the news. Is it because I said I like detectives, so you disguised yourself as him to lower my vigilance?', 'Do you have any wishes?', 'How did you die? Did it hurt?', 'I secretly added cakes to the tribute at home, can you eat it?', 'Actually, I learned how to cook.'
The third time we met, it was even worse.
But it didn't start out bad, it started out normal and nice, a family dinner time that Morofushi Hiromitsu spent almost every day.
Then there was a knock at the door, Mr. Morofushi answered it, got into an argument with the visitor, Mrs. Morofushi went to check on the situation worriedly, and then shoved Morofushi Hiromitsu into the closet in a panic.
"Hiro," She said, "don't make a sound, and don't come out no matter who calls you."
The closet door was closed.
Morofushi Hiromitsu's vision was plunged into what seemed like hellish darkness, and he sat in the closet in a daze, staring up at the outside, the light pouring through the closet window, leaving ray after ray on his face.
The darkness wasn't quiet, there was the sound of rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing, and even less quiet outside the living room, there was the sound of arguments that suddenly grew louder.
It seems that Mr. and Mrs. Morofushi had a dispute with someone, and it got worse and worse, and finally broke out into a fight.
Just as the volcano-like argument reached its peak, the world suddenly seemed to mercifully fall silent for a beat, leaving only the sound of rapid heartbeats.
Then, a gunshot rang out.
The smell of blood.
..It's an illusion.
You can't smell blood at the door from a closet, and you can't smell blood if you hold your breath, as seven-year-old Morofushi Hiromitsu knew all too well.
But he did smell blood, and the smell of blood, brewing out of anxiety, fear, and foreboding, enveloped him.
In the midst of the sickening smell of blood, there was the sound of very light footsteps.
Someone entered Morofushi's house, walked through the living room, passed the dining room table, and stopped in front of the closet, blocking some of the light that shone into it.
The streaks of light on Morofushi Hiromitsu's face were mutilated.
His eyes widened as he looked towards the backlit dark figure, his heart beating like thunder, and for once, he actually smelled blood.
It was faint, coming from the black shadow, less than a third of a meter away from him.
The shadow reached out and pulled open the closet door.
The light from the living room poured in, along with an even brighter white light, "Click, click, click, click..."
Morofushi Hiromitsu had to close his eyes as physical tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.
The sound of the camera stops, and the raven-like ghost pokes his head in, "Are you crying?"
He's still dark-haired and red-eyed, but with a splash of bright red blood on his face.
The smell of blood was spreading through the closet, a little stronger than it had been through the closet door, smelling like sweet, rotten rust.
Beyond the living room, Mrs. Morofushi's fearful, bewildered voice approached, "Yes, yes, yes, he's been shot, it's..."
She was still reeling, as if in a dream: "Detective Ichijō?"
On the news intelligent and reliable, often a look of calm certainty, not a trace of childish naivety cute 'Detective Ichijō' is still arching into the closet.
His whole body arched in, probing his head close to look at Morofushi Hiromitsu, the tip of his nose flicked from an uncertain sniffing motion, "Really crying, huh?"
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "..."
At the age of seven, he learned the good news that the raven-like ghost was alive.
At sixteen, he realized that there was something strange about the man who brought him the good news: he had been disappearing a lot lately.
Instead of the usual three points of contact between the crime scene, school and home, he had large chunks of time in between, sometimes as long as four or five hours, so much so that the police were calling him for help.
So on the rare day that Ichijō Mirai spent half an hour at school, he decided: follow Ichijō Mirai.
...And was dragged away by Ichijō Mirai, who was waiting behind the corner ten minutes later.
"You're strange, Morofushi-san. You're not awakening some strange attribute with puberty, are you? You're following me," Ichijō Mirai said, "but Furuya-san's here, so it's only natural that you've awakened some strange attribute."
"Hey," Furuya Rei, who had his other arm locked around his shoulder, glared at him, "I told you I'd kill you if you said that again!"
"...What are you doing in this neighborhood, isn't there only one kindergarten in this famous spot, has there been a murder?"
"No," Ichijō Mirai denied, "I'm not going to the kindergarten today."
He let go of his hand and quickly leapt up the wall, "Shall we call it a day? I really want to be a detective today, so you guys should stop following me."
"I'm afraid you'll beat me up."
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "?"
Furuya Rei: "?"
What are you doing now... I knew it was scary for you guys to have a vanishing gap...
The child is quiet, which means he is making trouble.
When the kids are quiet, it's okay to sit still, but when the cows are quiet, it makes you want to patrol the house quickly.
Surprisingly, Ichijō Mirai doesn't seem to be up to any mischief. He just sits on a wall and plays with his cell phone for a while, then jumps down to follow a group of kindergarteners as they pass by, and then follows them to a small park.
The kindergarteners were playing.
Ichijō Mirai was capturing them.
Instead of his usual blinding snap as if he's captured a piece of black history, he's using a cell phone that takes pictures without a flash, sitting on twin poles and snapping pictures of the buildings on the side of the park.
After a few snaps, he moves on to the kids.
Furuya Rei, pretending to play with the twin poles, glanced over as if by accident and whispered, "Are there criminals upstairs?"
Morofushi Hiromitsu is pretending to play with a walker, and glances over at the innocent children, "Is the target among those children?"
Ichijō Mirai is taking pictures.
His camera was fixed on a smiling face, looking through the cold lens into eyes that looked like sweet green candies melting in the sunlight.
The camera recorded her smile, the side of her face as she looked at Mouri Ran with smiling eyes, and her cheeks puffing up as she stared at Kudō Shinichi.
Throughout, she never looked over.
There were times when she could see Ichijō Mirai when she looked at Mouri Ran, but she always hurriedly retracted her eyes before turning her head to look at him.
The camera caught her blinking eyelashes in panic.
I've recorded so much, but I can't record her never looking over, only the smile that pursed out of her eyes when she turned them back, cute and adorable.
The child was still too young, Ichijō Mirai had temporarily removed the lover's perspective when she followed him up, and at that moment, she felt that she was judging very fairly: the child was really cute.
But it seems that I hate him...
How can that be...?
Is he someone you hate just by looking at him?
Wait a minute.
It's okay then.
Ichijō Mirai put down her cell phone and looked worried, "Morofushi-san, Furuya-san."
When there was no response, Morofushi Hiromitsu and Furuya Rei, who were taking a quick look around the room, looked up at the sound of their voices, "Huh?"
Ichijō Mirai reaches out and gives them a quick, sharp smack on the head, using the force to jump off the double bar, "Come on, stop looking at the cute little kids, they're sick of you guys! Let's go, let's take care of the damn human traffickers!"
He clicks and runs, skillfully slipping away.
Morofushi Hiromitsu: "..."
Some people have to be dealt with.
As he gritted his teeth and chased after him, he glanced back with a wistful glance, and saw a small child with short hair amongst the group looking cautiously sideways.
She was holding hands with the girl next to her, her eyes shining brightly, her cheeks spreading a cherry blossom pink color, looking at where Ichijō Mirai had just been, and looking at her with an expression of exclamation, her mouth mouthing, "Wow, that's really cool!"
It's actually quite objective.
But Morofushi Hiromitsu's sentimental judgment: No way.
What's so cool about a guy who deserves to get his ass kicked!