Every now and then a train crossed the railway bridge. Each time that happened, the white railing I was sitting on started vibrating and an ear-shattering noise filled the entire area. The trains were very old models from the 1960's. They never operated smoothly and made more noise than they had patronage.

I was a fair bit away from the train station at the edge of a big market area, the most popular one close to my school, which I had chosen because there would be passers-by even during the day, and was waiting for the time.

Where I stood waiting, was a recently demolished stall area, awaiting renovations and thus didn't have people frequenting the area.

I didn't want to be interrupted by anyone. At the same time I also needed people to witness incase things got out of hand.

Probably due to the sound insulation of the concrete, the sounds of the vicinity seemed extremely far. When I silently held my breath, I was under the impression that I was in an isolated institution far away in no-man's-land.

That might be the reason why I didn't notice him until he was nearby.

On the boundary separating light and darkness, a tall man with the appearance of a gigolo grinned daringly, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Quite unexpected to have you call me out. What happened?"

His voice resounded from the concrete all around us.

"Oh, have you by any chance recalled some good piece of information concerning Jamal?"

He flicked the cigarette away, which then traversed a parabola before hitting the ground.

"But whew," he began while cracking his neck, "you sure have chosen quite a desolate place. Are you out for a duel with me today or what?" He crushed the cigarette with his caramel-brown shoes.

"Weak as I am, I would never feel inclined to a duel," I shook my head, "But I do want to settle things with you."

I restfully stood up and fixedly stared at the man a few meters from me.

"Im putting an end to it," I smiled.

He closed one eye and grinned broadly, "Since you are the host, I'll let you have your say first."

Mr Ijapa leaned on the wall and crossed his arms.

"I would like to start not with a statement but with a question." I said.

"Oh, sure, sure. As many as you want, no need to be shy with me," he nodded easygoingly.

"Why did you become a detective?" I probed.

The next moment, he narrowed his eyes full of interest while stroking his chin.

"I don't want to be rude, but you aren't the type that acts out of a sense of justice." I said.

"Well, that was rude. Actually, I've taken to answering such questions with 'It's to protect my community!' while flashing a cool smile and saluting."

Upon seeing my dumbfounded face, he laughed dryly.

"Being a detective is what I live for!" he suddenly made a serious face, "I chose a job where it's work and work throughout the year, all day long, and where I may lose my life due to a slight mistake. Because I'm still a civil servant, people insult me, calling me a tax parasite, useless and all other unspeakable things despite my poor salary. So why did I sign up for such a thankless job? You know, it's to see all kinds of people and their relationships in all kinds of situations, whether they're joyous or grieving!"

Mr Ijapa stared into the air with an odd light in his eyes, originating from ecstasy.

"It's such a tremulous excitement when their masks crumble! It feels as if I were able to sneak a peek at the true nature of us humans. Bare emotions tell the truth much more eloquently than any justification."

When he finished, I couldn't suppress a sneer anymore.

"Oh that's cruel, Gabriella. Now that I've answered seriously for once because you looked so stern! I bet you're thinking of me as some crazy person now, aren't you?"

I immediately answered his scowl by shaking my head.

"By no means. Rather I was relieved to hear so much nonsense. It suits you, you know?" I shrugged

"Oho, now that's an unconventional evaluation." He seemed surprised.

"I guess. After all, I am, too, a good-for-nothing like you." I said with a straight face.

"I know," this time he sneered, "Since the moment I've first seen you."

The second I saw his grin, I was convinced: as Jamal had assessed, we really were similar.

"So, anything else you want to tell me?" he crossed his arms.

"There's nothing I would need to tell you!" I hissed.

"Oh? You acknowledge it just like that? What I've said until now about Jamal, I mean?" Mr Ijapa doubtfully raised an eyebrow.

"You're getting me wrong. I'm saying that my opinion hasn't changed in the first place." I said.

"Despite all I told you?" He posed.

"Yes, despite all that." I affirmed.

"Oh you're a trip! You're joking, right? Didn't you agree quite a lot to my doubts?" He looked serious.

"Indeed, I did agree. Insofar that the case could also be viewed in such an interesting light. Thanks to you I could catch a glimpse of how professional detectives deduce things by drawing one logical conclusion upon another. But that's all. My confidence in Jamal won't be swayed just by your assumptions."

When I smiled, he glared at me for just a split-second.

"Those are all just your assumptions. Frankly speaking, they're just baseless products of your over-creative fantasy."

Mr Ijapa stared at me expressionlessly.

"Didn't you say yourself that the rest of the police are treating this case as an accident? In other words, you are suspecting him on a personal basis, right? I don't know how excellent a detective you are or how high-ranked you are within the police, but that's what we call a 'grandstand play', you know?"

Since he did not react, I proceeded even further.

"As you have told me earlier, too, even in a small town like ours there are incidents every day, so is it not rather suboptimal for an 'official' to bother with Jamal and me? If you still insist on associating with us, you'll deserve the labeling as a tax parasite."

Of course I had a reason for getting that offensive.

"It's not in the interest of either of us to waste any more time on this. If you recalled what your original job is, I could carefreely return to my peaceful student life as well."

I was confident that he had no irrefutable proof. In other words, he had still not arrived at the "murder plan". And without it, it was not possible to reasonably entertain suspicions concerning Jamal.

"You've done your best. But there are other things you ought to do. So, let's put an end to this already."

There was one more thing that backed me up.

No one would blame him for backing out of this case. The police were considering it an accident; nothing hindered Mr Ijapa from letting go. Mr Ijapa had been free to proceed or withdraw from the very beginning. That's what I figured out.

"...you've got me there. You're completely right. Can't counter that," he pulled a new cigarette from the pocket of his jacket while smiling lopsidedly and put it into his mouth, "To tell the truth, the department chief and the station chief, well, let's just say the people at the top, are bugging me all the time because they want me to do my work properly. My colleagues have already given up though, since it's nothing new for them, heh!"

A small light flared up in the darkness. Mr Ijapa had lit the cigarette with a lighter advertising some sleazy product.

"...Can you figure out why they still let me grandstand?"

He blew out a puff of smoke.

"It's because I'm capable!" he claimed confidently, "And do you know what makes me capable?"

He tapped on his forehead.

"My sharp intuition."

The next moment, his loud voice resounded through the entire tunnel.

"To get to the point! This excellent and sharp master detective Ijapa says this is fishy! You have to realize that a school brat like you has no say in that whatsoever!"

His voice was reflected by the walls, by the ceiling, and rained down heavily on me. I felt as if I had been thrown into a bustling crowd.

"The point is! No matter what everyone else says, no matter if he himself denies it, I say he committed murder! So, Jamal Zaheer has killed her father!" he finished, sucked in some smoke and blew it out contentedly.

"That's so unreasonable..." I managed to say, overwhelmed by his attitude.

"Unreasonable, indeed. But tell me, does the world work a different way? It doesn't matter what's right and what's not; the stronger one gets his way, right?" A puff of smoke was blown out of his bent mouth. "Because I believed in myself and my intuition, and because I stayed true to myself, I was able to get remarkable results, you know. And because of those results, nobody can object to what I'm doing."

He showed a "grin".

"So, I'm sorry Gabriella, but I'm gonna do it the way I want—"

But it was his peculiar kind of grin that looked dead serious.

"—Because that's how I've chosen to live my life."

When I took another glance at his "grin", I came to think that that way of smiling must be the embodiment of his nature.

Put crudely, Mr Ijapa was a lunatic in a clown's disguise.

It's not easy to get by with an uncommon sense put to show. Therefore, he probably adapted to our society by acting frivolous most of the time.

That "grin" must have been a remnant of that madness which he could not conceal.

"Okay, it's my turn now," Mr Ijapa crushed his cigarette with his heel.

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his tight slacks.

"Why are you so eager to defend Jamal?"

With a slow and firm pace, he drew closer on his long legs. Step by step, his leather shoes produced a reverberating creak that filled the passage.

"Don't you agree that it must be quite hard to believe so firmly in him without a lot of personal sympathy?"

I felt my stomach knot tighter and tighter at the sound of his steadily approaching footsteps.

"I'm not deliberately defending him, really! But it's simply absurd to expect me to believe that a classmate of mine is a killer. Isn't it normal that I can't, and don't want to, believe your doubts?"

"Yeah, completely normal," he admitted casually. That was, however, only a preface to what was to come. "But come on, in spite of everything I'm still a detective, if I may say so myself. It's not absurd in any way if you were a little more doubtful of her, right? I mean, hey, the police are suspecting her, so there might be something to it! I think it wouldn't do you any harm if you agreed a little more with me, you know, admitting that I have some points that make him suspicious. There's no need be so dismissive about it, is there? Well, that's the opinion of an experienced detective who has witnessed all kinds of incidents, anyway. Now, what do you say?" said the experienced speaker Mr Ijapa in a torrent of words with a peculiar intonation, giving the atmosphere around us his own touch.

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"...I'm a cross-grained person, you know. I'm also a little contrary on top of that. Therefore, I don't want to simply nod to something that doesn't make perfect sense to me!"

As a natural consequence, my hands became sweaty and my voice became tense.

"I guess so. It's already an established fact within me that you're that type of person."

I registered that his smile seemed very content.

"But while you sure are a cross-grained lad, Gabriella, you are not an idiot, and you don't lack common sense either. So I can't understand why you are so understanding to him. With that personality of yours, shouldn't you rather search for Jamal's flaws the more perfect he is? At least the Gabriella I know is someone who doesn't believe anything he hasn't seen with his own eyes."

It's agreeable if you are understood because the other party shows interest in yourself by doing so. If it's interest from a capable person like Mr Ijapa on top of that, it can't be a bad feeling.

However, I couldn't help feeling uncomfortable, for his assessment was just too spot-on. That nasty feeling of having my whole body closely scrutinized, from tip to toe, gave me a chill.

Before I knew it, Mr Ijapa was standing right before me.

"In short, you know, I've already concluded that your unconditional support of Jamal is due to special feelings towards him. And well, because you love him so much that whether he's guilty or not, you just don't care. You're like, 'I shall believe in him even when the rest of the world turns against us!', you see. Oh how great is the power of love. Whoa there, don't look at me like that! I'm not messing with you here. Actually, I quite like that way of thinking. No, make that 'I love it'!"

What a talkative man. It's not like I was dumbfounded; I was taking my hat off to him. I wondered if there was even a single person who didn't talk after being targeted by him.

"You are gifted with a superb imagination indeed." I said.

"Well, it's a job that requires a good imagination." He said.

A smile was on his mouth, a truly amused one.

"But there's one more. One more possibility why you could be protecting Mr Zaheer," his smile disappeared. "Namely, if you have certain proof that Jamal has not killed anyone."

My consciousness was immediately drawn to the murder plan.

"So... do you?" He stared at me.

"By no means."

"Too bad," he replied not regretfully in the least.

While my whole body was becoming stiff, he continued. In a most casual tone.

"By the way, I've been wondering—what's in that left breast pocket?"

My right hand reflexively grabbed at my left breast pocket.

Mr Ijapa reacted on the spot.

He quickly pulled his hands out of his pockets as if drawing a sword and grabbed my chest the very next moment. After he had taken a large step towards me, my field of vision made a sudden turn.

I felt a blow on my back the next instant which then turned into pain that flashed through my entire body. The fierce pain caused me to heave one deep groan. My head started spinning and I became unable to move. However, despite the dull pain, I could hardly breath and couldn't even groan anymore.

It all happened so fast I had no clue what had just occurred to me.

By now I assume that he had thrown me down on the hard ground by using some technique.

"I'm quite the feminist, you know, I don't want to be rough to the ladies. But on the other hand, I'm pretty much merciless towards guys!" he said casually as he sat astride me.

I found it hard to breathe "Ugh..what...do you...mean?" I scowled.

"Interpret it however you like my lady" he said.

"...Ugh...you will get into trouble for this," I managed to squeeze out and scowled at him.

"No worries, no worries! As long as no one gets wind of it I'm safe!"

He didn't care in the least.

"Well, shall we take a look at what you're hiding there in that inside pocket?"

I firmly grabbed my jacket with both my hands.

"Oh? From your stubborn resistance I gather that there's really something in there that is related to Jamal?"

I shouldn't have averted my eyes when he came peeking deep into them.

"Ha! Bull's eye? My intuition sure is something! It's getting fun!" he laughed with an odd light in his eyes.

Mr Ijapa tried to break my grip, which I, still stuck below him, frantically warded off with all my might.

"Whoa, whoa. You don't know when to give up!" Mr Ijapa scratched his head in a baffled way.

"Hah, there's no way around this," he then muttered. "Believe it or not, but I was in school once, too. Back then I was actually quite the naughty boy, you know?"

He suddenly started talking of his past for some reason.

"And well, the place naughty boys like us used to select for deepening our friendship with our fists was, oh surprise, desolate or abandoned places like this one! Maybe you get now why I asked you right in the beginning if you wanted to have a duel with me."

I failed to see what he was getting at, which was exactly what unsettled me.

"Can you guess why we usually selected somewhere under construction or abandoned?"

That moment, the ground started shaking slightly. I felt with my back that apparently a train was coming our way.

"The reason is—screams get drowned out in isolation faraway from where people can hear or perhaps the noise of passing old trains."

As he revealed that fact, a thunderous sound burst through the air, killing all other sounds.

"...you're joking... right?"

My words of shock were naturally drowned out as well.

The rattling of the train passing by above us shook my body. No, perhaps I was just trembling myself.

I felt the cold sensation of metal on my forehead.

Still utterly confused, I looked at what was in front of my eyes with a fixed gaze.

In his stretched out arm Mr Ijapa was holding a black object. The cylindrical tip of that hard, black object was put on my forehead.

As soon as the thundering noise receded, giving way to the normal sounds, the man expressionlessly said, "If timed properly, that noise can even drown out a gunshot."

I gulped down without knowing.

...no way. He may have a tendency to lunacy, but he wouldn't possibly pull that trigger. This is bound to be a foolish performance to threaten me.

That's what my mind told me anyway.

My hair, however, stuck to my forehead. My heart was pounding and my breath was running wild. In contrast to my logical thinking, my body was so tense that I couldn't even blink.

"Now let go."

I put all the power I still had into my fingers.

"That's the spirit. Good boy."

My arms, however, were shaken off easily. Unfortunately, there had not been enough power left in me to resist him.

Mr Ijapa skillfully undid the first two buttons with one hand and slid that hand into my inside pocket.

When he pulled it out again, he was holding a small folded scrap of paper between his fingers.

"...a scrap of paper, huh. What will I find on here, I wonder?"

He concluded that I had entirely lost the will to resist and removed the handgun from my forehead, and unfolded the sheet with both his hands.

Mr Ijapa skimmed through it with a serious mien.

As he was still sitting on me, I couldn't move while he was reading the letter, thus I was forced to keep on looking at the concrete ceiling, which was not exactly interesting.

"Oh time! Go by!" I wished silently.

"Let me confirm one thing... who has written this 'plan'?"

He thrust out the sheet before my eyes.

"I don't know," I hissed and looked away.

"...So my hunch didn't fail me," he said with a convinced tone. "Judging by your reaction, you have written this, huh."

I kept silent.

"At the very first glance I thought that the letters looked very, you know, 'boyish', so I did consider the possibility! But I mean, what's written there just doesn't match the image I have of you, you know? You and this, huh... What did your face look like when you wrote it? Oh, please don't tell me you wrote it with that serious face of yours!"

It was probably the serious face I had maintained that caused him to suddenly embrace his stomach and start trembling with tears in his eyes. He chuckled as the intensity of his tremble increased like the speed of plane that was rolling on a runway. And then,

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He burst into a grand laughter. The plane had just soared into the sky.

His guffawing resounded through the tunnel. Laughter rained down on me from all sides with no mercy. I experienced the humiliation of being made a fool by a great mass.

"...aah, stop it, aah, I'm dying! I'm dying laughing! Aah, I haven't laughed like this in ages... I think for a while I'm gonna break out into a laughter just by recalling this," he said while still laughing with groans mixed in. "Aaa... I have to admit that that contrast got even me by surprise. Now that was something new. Never thought that you, our grouchy Gabriella , would write such an oh-so-sweet letter that would startle even the purest girl in love..."

Again, he was unable to suppress it and laughed out loud.

The title on the sheet he had thrust in front of me was—

—"Love plan"

The "Love plan" contained all kinds of flirt phrases and methods to win over a guy's heart. Words so sickeningly sweet that they didn't even lose to the taste of pancakes accidentally covered with a bottle of maple syrup, filled the whole page without leaving any gaps.

If you write such a dangerous thing with your very own hands, with all your wit can offer, during an entire long night, then your life cannot be assured anymore. Even if you survived it, you would be scarred for life with a horrendous trauma.

An actual survivor states that living became hard just a few minutes after starting to write.

At last, satisfied with laughing, Mr Ijapa asked me with a meek expression, "So? Do you want me to retire from the case now because of this?"

"It would be very much appreciated." I said.

He grabbed my head with his hands and leaned over me. My dark field of vision became even darker.

"There's no way I could retire at such a half-baked state!" he declared from straight above with forceful eyes.

"But that's," I began and put on a confident smile. "That's only your view as a detective, right?"

"...What do you mean?"

A question mark appeared above him. Therefore, I grinned while answering his question.

"Right now you look extremely fulfilled!"

He could say what he wanted, but his eyes were sparkling like the eyes of a kid that had just arrived at an amusement park. To me Mr Ijapa looked as though he was bursting with amusement.

"Haven't you had enough fun by now?"

Mr Ijapa pondered over my words while stroking his chin.

He hadn't denied it when I said that it was not a sense of justice that made him choose the job as a detective.

What he had asserted, however, was that he wanted to enjoy humans and their relationships.

In short, Mr Ijapa himself didn't care much if Jamal had killed her mother or not. Though finding out the truth was surely part of that hobby of his, it was by no means his personal goal.

So I thought about what his goal really was. The conclusion I came to was this:

From the moment I had realized that we resembled each other, I had felt that such an end was inevitable.

"...oh well, you got me!"

Mr Ijapa spun his gun around his finger and stowed it away in the holster that was hidden under his jacket.

"My loss was decided the instant I laughed. After laughing badly like that I can't claim that I wasn't amused anymore."

When he stood up, he reached out his hand to me. I took it.

"Okay! I'll drop the case."

He then pulled me up onto my feet.

"...Thank you."

Words of appreciation automatically slipped out of my mouth. Apparently, I happened to be relieved.

Considering that we were similar, it wasn't hard to comprehend the principle of his actions, but I had no prospects of victory in terms of persuading him, an experienced speaker, into dropping the case. As a matter of fact, my first attempt had been beaten down by his overwhelming pressure.

Since the odds had been against me, I had prepared the "Love plan" as a trump card.

The main reason I had written it was to create unforeseeability. To surprise Mr Ijapa with something that he would definitely not expect me to ever write. And finally, to take the wind out of his sails with that unforeseeability.

My vigorous resistance had not been played at all; I had wanted to keep my trump card for last, yes, I had even wanted to take it to the grave.

What I can say now is that I probably would have failed if I hadn't taken the bullet.

"Oh well, it was about time anyway, " Mr Ijapa said while wiping off the dust on his uniform with one hand. "Keep in mind that to the bigwigs this case is only a trifling incident that wouldn't even get into the news. Organizations, not only the police, have a tendency to avoid using time, money and workforce for trivial things, you know. After all, they wouldn't gain much for solving an incident no one cares about."

"Quite business-like, isn't it?" I followed his example and dusted off my uniform with both my hands.

"Indeed. If you think of it like that, maybe I'm actually something like an office worker," he nodded full of agreement. "Well, the point is that even I can't always keep running after every small incident, no matter how much everyone accepts it implicitly! I mean, come on, I'm capable, right? They want me on the big cases!"

He then folded the recipe and unaffectedly put it into the pocket of his suit.

"Hey, don't just stow that away in your pocket!" I hurriedly stopped him.

"Mh? What do you mean? That's mine, isn't it?" He looked at me as though I had just asked a stupid question.

"No, it's mine. Please return it to me." I pleaded.

"No chance."

"But there's no point if you have it, is there?" I asked.

"It's the treasure I dug up this time. It's an irreplaceable memento of you. I'm going to reread this plan from time to time and remember you and the happy days we spent together."

"That's a lie. You're definitely going to make a fool of me!" I shouted

"Oh? I'm busted." He said.

I could not help sighing, seeing he was as undaunted as always.

"Come on, isn't that quite a good deal? For just a mere scrap of paper I'll withdraw from this case! Now if that's not some outstanding treatment!" He said.

"It's not a physical problem, but a very psychological one." I was embarrassed.

"Well, you should be able to take some scars as a lady."

Mr Ijapa put on a wry smile as he lit on a cigarette.

"...even I think once in a while, you know, that I've got a bothersome personality. But we can't just change our hobbies or our values, right?"

I found myself agreeing with the musing Mr Ijapa before me.

"They say it's possible to select one's way of life, but I think that's just a flowery lie. At least I could not choose another one. Choosing another way of life means throwing away all you've done so far and becoming a new self, don't you agree? I like myself the way I am now. So I have no choice but to stick to my current principles!"

Then he showed the grin that truly suited him.

"An acquaintance of mine said something similar. Something along the lines of the world's very setup being 'shit', so one should live by one's own rules." My mind went to Emma.

"Oho. We would surely get on well."

"Yes, indeed. I don't know about him, but you would surely like him."

"So it's a man?"

"Yes."

"Woho, definitely introduce me to him one of these days."

"If I find some time."

"By the way..."

"Yes?"

"—What was it really? What have you been hiding?"

I was unable to answer him right away.

Mr Ijapa had assured me he'd drop this case. And he was surely not someone who broke promises.

But still I just couldn't bring myself to let anyone else know about the murder plan.

However, Mr Ijapa suddenly tousled my hair with his sinewy hand.

"Sorry. Forget that. That question was 'thoughtless' as you would call it, right?"

He blew some smoke toward the asphalt.

The railway started to creak, causing the entire area to vibrate, and erased all other sounds around us.

During the time that allowed no other sounds, Mr Ijapa made himself at home and enjoyed his cigarette, whereas I had my gaze fixed on the far away blue sky as if enjoying a nightly read.

At last, the train passed by and took its thunderous sound with it.

"Good luck, Gabriella . It was a short time with you, but I really enjoyed it!"

That was the first thing I heard again.

"I too... relatively enjoyed those days."

"Relatively?! Oh boy...," he said and leisurely walked towards the exit, his shoes squeaking. I silently gazed at his back as he waved his hand extravagantly.

"...Ah, let me correct one thing at the end." The footsteps stopped near the entrance of the passage. "Satisfied, my ass! Just so you know! I am not at all satisfied! I wanted to play much more with you and Jamal"

He resembled a brat that didn't want his summer holidays to end so much that I had to laugh, "Oh boy...!"

"Goodbye."

"Yes!"

It was not farewell forever, but we weren't going to see each other for quite a while. We may live in the same town, but there wouldn't be many occasions to meet each other. Our separate ways had merely happened to cross by chance this time. That was the relationship between us, between Mr Ijapa and me, two persons of different ages and positions.

"Right! I almost forgot—"

He quickly turned around and skillfully squinted one eye.

"Actually, I fancy women and men all the same!"

"......eh?"

He gave me a wave with his flat hand, "Byeee!" and disappeared into the light, leaving me behind dumbfounded.

"...'Bi'? Don't mess with me!"

I was sure it had to be another special bad joke of his and that he was having his fun with me.

"How stupid," I shook my head.

I frantically tried to make myself believe that it was a joke, but I just couldn't do anything about the goosebumps I had gotten all over.

Geez, Mr Ijapa remained a good-for-nothing to the bitter end. I had never met such a good-for-nothing in my entire life. There can't be many absurd people like him in the world. I figured that I may not meet someone like him again.

Therefore, it was a relatively regrettable farewell for me.

After raising my hand once, I turned around and walked towards the exit on the opposite side.

By the time I left the area, my mind was occupied with only him and no one else.