Kaho and Captain Hirano made their way back to the clearing by the dining hall. Nitta, Matsushita and Fumiko had wrangled all of the kids who were interested on going for an evening hike, and gathered them together. Fumiko stood on her tiptoes and waved frantically.
"Captain! Satoru is getting Coach so he can supervise," she said, stressing the idea of supervising. With a group as large as the one Fumiko had procured, it looked like she and some of the other members of the team were interested in giving fishing another chance.
Kaho's eyes found Naseru's. Akane was sitting, glaring furiously, as Naseru got up, stretched his arms overhead and strode over. Jean-Luc Barbier was like a dog with a bone, bounding over toward Naseru's side, chatting animatedly. Naseru rolled his eyes and spoke in short, quiet sentences that Kaho couldn't make out.
She headed toward Naseru and Jean-Luc, smiling and beckoned them both to come along, or they'd be left behind.
Jean-Luc narrowed his eyes. Naseru gestured with a nod of his head in the direction of the trail. He nodded and drew nearer to the officer whom Nitta was holding to his word.
Naseru lingered further back, his gaze firmly set on Kaho. She wove through the crowd without caution, like her shoes were made of trampoline springs. His eyes trailed down her body, from her alien graphic tee, to her shorts. His eyes lingered on her legs for longer than necessarily. Her shorts were much higher on her leg than her school uniform, and she carried herself with a carefree disposition. She was some kind of enigma.
How could anyone be so friendly and positive?
Naseru frowned as Kaho grabbed her phone from her back pocket and opened a translator app she'd installed. She typed furiously and held the phone up to Jean-Luc. He nodded and held his hand out for her phone, doing the same thing. He wondered if she'd heard his confession about missing France when confessing to the basketball pillow, the same way that Jean-Luc had confided in Naseru before slipping away into the night. Or maybe she had another letter that told her that he was lonely? He shrugged and slowly slunk toward the gaggle of teens, all basking in the glow of Nitta Michio's phone torch. He held it overhead like it was a trophy or a gladiator's spear, triumphantly. He winked into the crowd.
Kaho turned her head and saw Fumiko making hand signals, moving her hand like a wave in the sea. She wasn't subtle. Nor was she dressed to fish. She didn't catch Naseru looking directly at her. Though, he was sure that Barbier could have done.
It was Taiga who brought up the rear, Konoishi in tow. He had a backpack slung over his shoulders, inevitably containing the equipment he'd need to fish. He nodded at the officer at the front.
"Okay kids, pair up, we're going for a walk," he said, turning away from them to add, "I am so in the shit for this."
Nitta strode into the throngs of people, giving Matsushita a high-ten.
"Who thought that baby Michio's crowning achievement of Junior Prefectional Champion of Mahjong would come in handy," Matsushita laughed. Nitta elbowed him in the ribs.
Meanwhile, Detective Asakura Ryohei gazed out of his window. He'd been put up in a grandiose suite to share with some of the officers on duty, including Officer Nanata, who was curled up in a fleecy blanket, a plume of steam caressing her face from a hot chocolate. Her gaze was fond as she gazed up at the stars from the window.
"The stars here are beautiful, Detective," Officer Nanata said.
He hummed, non-committedly, his eyes were trained on the small procession of teenagers being led by the on-duty officers onto the harshest of hiking trails. They looked much smaller from his suite.
The suite was large, with Western floor planning and furnishings. Detective Asakura was sitting at a large white kitchen table, on a narrow pleather stool, hunched over a page of notes.
His mind flickered back to the report of Jun and Yoko from the Hoshimiki Beetles; there were only three young women in attendance at that retreat, and the description from the officer who reported the three of them breaking curfew had been vague. He'd remembered a boy with a darker complexion, his hair tied back in braids, and a girl with brown hair and brown eyes. Which, much to Detective Asakura's chagrin, could have been two of the three girls.
He sighed and drummed his biro against the table. There was no coffee left in the pot, and he wasn't sure when he'd last eaten. Maybe a pastry at breakfast? His eyes were heavy in their sockets and his feet drummed on the floor. He was full of pent up energy that he wanted to release, but the pieces the original officers had forced together didn't make a clear picture at all.
His eyes flickered to the information on whiteboard. He'd borrowed it from Mr Shirotani and Mr Tsukishima, and littered it with evidence, crime scene photos and information about the various places and people. Each of the high schoolers' accounts were verifiable, spidering out from each other with electricians tape along the floor like a new carpet. The account by his foot belonged to a kid called Aigawa Kaho.
The Aigawa girl had recounted being with her brother, the Matsuoka boy, the Omura boy, a boy called Eiji and a kid called Yuta, neither of whom had put their full names on their statements. Just their forenames. He glanced at the cluster of accounts from the Hanagawa kids, and toward the ones from the other kids. Nobody seemed to have seen anything, which made sense.
Detective Asakura reached for his mug, glanced inside and huffed, putting it down loudly, drawing Officer Nanata's eye. She raised a brow and uncurled herself from the blanket, allowing it to cascade along the floor. She slunk over to his table, tiptoeing in the gaps between the accounts he'd stuck together on the floor like she was on stepping stones. She leaned over his shoulder and glanced at the sheet of paper. There was nothing coherent on it; there rarely ever was. He thought with such ferocity, half of the words he wrote barely looked like words at all. Officer Nanata took the coffee pot and the detective's mug from the table and continued in her strange ballet to the open concept kitchen. She prepped the beans and turned the kettle on, leaning on the counter.
Officer Nanata wasn't wearing her police uniform anymore; she'd changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a baby pink vest top that clung to her body like a second skin. She ran a hand through her glossy blonde hair and reached into her pocket for a cigarette. She held the box out to the detective. He shook his head.
"Looks like you need one. You sure?"
He shrugged, "I need to see this from another angle."
When the police first happened upon the crime scene, in Mr and Mrs Tanaka's suite, it made sense to arrest Mrs Tanaka, even though she'd been the one to call emergency services. He glanced down at the original crime scene notes and then back to the shorthand observations he'd made at the first glance. He pursed his lips and glanced over at Officer Nanata.
"Kyoko, fancy a stroll."
"What about the coffee?"
"The coffee can wait," Detective Asakura said, "Let's go."
She lolled her head back and groaned, "Am I allowed to say no, Detective?"
He raised a brow and shook his head, a smirk crossing his lips as he rose from the table. "Absolutely not."