“Your deductions were way off!” I accused, “Harry! How did you fail to remember that Mr. Hue came in last week?!”

Gentrei sat at our lunch table again, cradling her head in her hands. She made it clear that she found our interactions tiring, but I kept going on at Harry.

“Try not to blame him too much,” Neuire came to Harry’s defense, “He does really well at catching details and using his compassion, even though his deduction skills aren’t that great.”

“Neuire! That hurts too!” Harry whined, “But still! Yeah! I tried my best!”

“I accused an innocent man!” I interjected, “And got embarrassed in the process!”

Interrupting us, Gentrei slammed her fists onto the table, “Will y’all shut it!?”

Silence followed, but most of the reason came more from her sudden use of an accent, rather than us being scared of her. Well, maybe I got scared, but Neuire certainly didn’t. Harry’s expression told me that he had a fair mix of both.

“You guys are too annoying,” Gentrei grumbled, “my head hurts just listening to your chattering.”

“You’re the one that came here,” Harry pointed out, “I didn’t even ask you this time.”

“Tch, I just happened to be free again,” Gentrei folded her arms, “there’s nothing else to it.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Really? What about that long stare you’ve been giving Neuire?” Harry asked, “Is there a reason for that?”

“W-what long stare!?” Gentrei shrieked, “You’re making stuff up!”

“Maybe I am,” Harry admitted, “but so what?”

“Gah! Your shenanigans are the things I hate the most!” Gentrei clawed at her hair, “I’m leaving.”

A smile flashed across Neuire’s face, before he waved, “Bye, sorry you had to deal with Harry.”

“R-right,” all tensed up, Gentrei waved back, “bye.”

“Gentrei’s acting shy with Neuire, isn’t she?” Harry leaned over to me, “I’m not imagining this one, am I?”

“She definitely is,” I answered, nodding, “maybe there’s a deeper meaning to it?”

“I can hear you two!” Gentrei shouted back at us, “You’re no better than Harry!”

“Guh,” I felt her words stab into my chest, “That’s horrible.”

“It’s not so bad to be like Harry,” Neuire comforted, “he was able to get enough evidence to get Mr. Pelt fired, after all.”

“Yeah!” Harry jumped, “I’m a hero!”

“Maybe not a hero,” Neuire chuckled, “but I think I should be going now, you guys enjoy your food.”

“You don’t want to stay?” Harry questioned, “It’s fun to speak with you again.”

“Thanks, but,” Neuire turned away, “I don’t feel very comfortable about it.”

I sat, watching the two of them talk. They had some kind of invisible link connecting them, but Neuire had a very tired look on his face. Of course, a new calm crawled on there too, taking away his broken image.

“Okay then,” Harry exhaled, “thanks for helping us with our little investigation.”

“You’re welcome,” Neuire replied, before walking away.

He must have really liked that corner, because he ended up sitting there again for the rest of lunch. That book also stayed in his arms. I wondered what that book was about.