It was the spring of my third year in college. To be exact, it was during the short spring break after my second year ended and before the first classes of my third year began.
Around that time, my master in the occult arts had somehow managed to land a job as a librarian at our university. He had graduated from graduate school that spring, saying things like, "I have nothing left to teach you."
By then, rather than taking me on field training to haunted spots, the master spent most of his time telling me old stories. They were tales of how he had first immersed himself in the occult as a disciple himself. In those stories, a fresh-faced master, looking very much like I did during my first year, spent his days up to his neck in the occult alongside his own master, a woman named Kanako. Every single tale was unbelievable. He would talk on and on, looking nostalgic, with a faint expression of awe on his face as he recalled the terror of those times. It was almost as if he were trying to pass on all his occult knowledge and experiences to me so that he could finally step away from the path of the occult for good.
The master's miscalculation, however, lay in the fact that I didn't possess the kind of obsessive drive he had held for Kanako. The reason for that difference was obvious. While I felt a sense of longing for the master, the feelings he had for Kanako were something far beyond that. Still, though I was an unworthy disciple, I lent him my ear, at least willing to humor the old man's reminiscences.
One day during spring break, the master called me out and took me to a multi-tenant commercial building in the city. It was located on a side street just off a busy thoroughfare, a place we usually had no reason to visit.
I recognized it. It was the workplace of Kyosuke, a member of the local occult forum "Ash's Dawn." Back in the autumn of my first year, the master had tried to ambush him here while wearing traditional straw rain gear as a prank. Right at the start of that mischief, the master's enthusiasm had inexplicably plummeted, and Kyosuke had chased him off in no time.
That was my first time here. On the first floor of the building, the sign for Cafe Boston—Kyosuke's former workplace—was still hanging unchanged.
The master didn't look at the cafe, but instead gazed up at the upper floors of the building. The second floor had a sign for a consumer finance company. On the third-floor window were the words: "Hattori Investigative Agency."
By that time, I had heard a lot from the master. The predecessor to the Hattori Investigative Agency was called the Ogawa Investigative Agency, where Kanako in her days and the master in his youth had worked part-time as investigators. It wasn't just a regular detective agency's work; it was a peculiar part-time job that exclusively accepted weird, incomprehensible requests concerning things called "Ghosts."
Every time the master told me adventure stories from that place, I felt a growing curiosity about the agency. However, I had restrained myself from going to peek on my own, feeling it would be like defiling a sanctuary that the master protected by keeping his distance.
"Why are we here?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Well, once is enough, I suppose," the master said and headed toward the building's entrance.
We climbed the cheap-sounding, clinking stairs and knocked on the single door on the third floor. "Come in," a voice responded from inside. The master opened the door and greeted, "It's been a while." I followed behind him.
It was a neat office with four desks. A man was sitting at the desk furthest in the back. He wore glasses and sat with his back perfectly straight. There was a cold, appraising look in his narrowed eyes. "This is my apprentice," the master introduced me.
It felt strangely embarrassing. As I bowed, I almost let out an involuntary groan. But there seemed to be a mutual understanding between the master and the man that made such words unnecessary. Without changing his expression in the least, the man stood up. "Director Hattori," the master introduced him. At the same time, Hattori extended his right hand. He was the man who had been called "Ninja" in the master's old stories.
After finishing the handshake, we were prompted to take a seat at the reception table. "So, what brings you out of the blue? You, taking on a 'Ghost' job?" Hattori started, and I looked at the master in surprise.
Not knowing whether to feel awkward toward me or Hattori, the master scratched the back of his head and let out an "ah." "Well, I've gotten a real job now, and I wanted to show this guy what I used to do, just once."
"Rumors that there's still an investigator 'specializing in ghosts' float around this industry even now. Years have passed since she died, but people still hear about it through the grapevine and come looking here. When I took over the agency from the owner, you were the very first person I contacted. I asked if you wouldn't come back." "I'm sorry about back then. For turning you down. But when you contacted me, it was already a finished chapter in my mind." "If it's a finished chapter, then it's a finished chapter for me, too—'ghost cases,' that is. Without someone capable of handling requests like that, they're just bad accounts."
Hattori continued without even a hint of a smile, staring straight into the master's eyes. "Or so I'd like to say, but I still find myself wishing I could turn these into cash every time I have to turn away some eccentric client."
He slid a single photograph across the reception table. It showed a woman of around fifty holding a calico cat and facing the camera. "This is the 'Ghost' request you asked about. I had just turned it down the other day, but when I got your call saying you wanted to take on a ghost investigation, I contacted her immediately. I thought maybe we could take on consultations after all. Besides, this client was introduced by someone I'm indebted to, so I'd like to cash in that favor."
The master was going to take on a "Ghost"? Just like in those stories I'd heard over and over. I listened to the exchange between the master and Hattori in disbelief.
"The client is Shizue Nohara, 51 years old. Single, living alone with a calico cat in a detached house in the city. Lately, she's been troubled by strange phenomena, like the sound of window glass shattering when there's nothing wrong. Her request is to find the cause and prevent these strange occurrences. What do you think? Can you do it?" "Well, probably," the master said casually, without a trace of bravado.
Hattori sat back deeply into the sofa and let out a sigh. "I've never seen a ghost. I don't believe they exist either. Honestly, I don't really understand what kind of power you two use to solve these problems. But I know your abilities fall short of hers. Even so, you say you can do it?"
He dropped the poison smoothly. Hattori didn't seem to be intentionally provoking the master; he just looked like he was making a calm analysis. Hearing those words, the master wore a somewhat pleased expression. "I'm not the man I was back then. Just for seeing them, though, I feel like I won't lose to her. So, I'll figure something out." "..." Hattori seemed to be weighing the master's words. "Ah, but your assessment that I'm inferior is definitely correct. I think so, too. No one can ever beat her."
A dark flame flickered in the master's words. I suddenly felt an urge to block my ears. "Very well. However, payment is contingent on success. In exchange, I'll pay the same amount she used to get. Not chump change like what you were paid back then."
Hearing that, the master grinned and said, "You mean an owl's tears, right?"
◆
The next day, the master and I, dressed in suits, stood in front of a house in a corner of a residential neighborhood.
It was a simple two-story house with a small yard. The master stated the purpose of our visit via the intercom. I glanced over at the master's attire. It didn't suit him at all. Actually, did this guy even own a suit? That was the thought that crossed my mind, but come to think of it, he had managed to get hired as a university librarian. Of course he'd own a suit.
I was no one to talk, though. Even though I was about to enter my third year of college, I hadn't given job hunting a single thought, so I didn't own a recruitment suit. I had just fished out the suit I wore to my entrance ceremony and nervously tried it on to see if it still fit.
The master had told me that while detective agencies were a shady business, precisely because of that, you should keep your appearance proper. When I brought up Kanako, his predecessor who always seemed to wander around in hot pants, and asked what he thought of *that*, he replied, "She's a natural charmer. If you try to copy her, you'll get burned."
It was true—even though she often acted rudely, she somehow seemed extraordinarily well-liked by older people. Then again, since everything I knew came from the master's hearsay, I had no idea how much of it was true.
"Coming!" The front door opened, and a woman stepped out. It was our client, Shizue Nohara. "It's a bit messy," she said as she invited us inside, but the house looked nothing of the sort; both the entryway and hallway were spotless. After putting on slippers, we were led into a living room that was equally well-organized, giving the impression that there was not a single unnecessary thing in sight. With one exception. Before I could ask about it, she urged us, "Please, have a seat."
Just as told, I sat at the table in front of the sofa and pulled out a business card when it was time to introduce ourselves. It was the card with the fake name "Sakamoto" that he used to use. Come to think of it, Hattori had handed it to him yesterday. I had wondered if he still had some left, but when I thought about it, the agency's name had changed since the days the master used those cards. *Ah, oh no*, I thought, but by then it was already in Ms. Nohara's hands. Still, peering over from the side, I saw it correctly read "Hattori Investigative Agency." Had Director Hattori gone out of his way to make them yesterday before the master visited? No, I felt that wasn't it. Hadn't he prepared them beforehand, just in case the master ever decided to take a job again?
What must the master have felt receiving that card, carrying the message that he could return whenever he wanted? "And this is my apprentice," the master motioned toward me. "I'm Iwasaki," I said, bowing. A fake name, of course. "To get right to it, we'd love to hear the details," the master started, and Ms. Nohara began speaking with an anxious expression.
"Um... It's embarrassing to admit, but I've reached this age without ever marrying, and as you can see, it's just the two of us—me and my cat. Oh, this little one is named Mame. She's a girl, turning five this year."
Ms. Nohara was holding a cat in her lap on the sofa. It was the calico cat we had seen in the photograph. She must have adored it dearly. The cat looked attached and sat quietly.
She introduced herself as the homeowner, working as an office clerk for a trading company. From the looks of it, she didn't seem to have any financial troubles. "There are a lot of scary incidents these days, aren't there? Living alone, there are times when you feel quite insecure. But having Mame really helps me. It makes me feel like I'm not alone, and it eases my mind... But for about the past month, scary things have been happening one after another."
At first, late at night just as she was getting ready for sleep, the sound of window glass shattering would suddenly ring out from the second floor. Startled, she would timidly go upstairs, only to find that not a single window was broken—everything was completely normal. Thinking it strange, she checked all the windows in the house and glass items in the kitchen, but not a single broken thing was to be found. Figuring she might have just been dozing off and half-asleep, she tried not to worry about it, but a few days later, the exact same thing happened again.
Even though nothing was broken, she heard the sound of glass shattering from inside the house. And it didn't end there. She started hearing other sounds, like heavy furniture tipping over with a loud bang, or doors slamming shut violently. The doors were closed to begin with, and no furniture had fallen over. On top of that, recently, she had started catching glimpses of shadows darting away at the edge of her vision.
"Shadows?" "Y-Yes. I can't see them clearly, but I've seen shadows slipping away into the hallway and disappearing, or something heading up toward the stairs."
I see. A textbook "Ghost" case. If you brought this to a regular detective agency, they wouldn't give you the time of day. And you certainly couldn't consult the police. As I was thinking this, the master asked quietly, "Pardon me, but have you ever had a sixth sense, or experienced seeing or hearing mystical things in the past?" "No, not at all." Ms. Nohara waved her hands vigorously in front of her face. "When I was a child, my grandfather passed away. After the memorial service, when we were having the post-funeral meal, my deceased grandfather apparently walked smoothly right down the hallway. All my relatives were shocked, but I was so absorbed in eating my chestnut kinton that I was the only one who didn't even notice." "Chestnut kinton?" I blurted out. That sounded like the kind of story destined to become a staple anecdote whenever relatives gathered. People were probably still bringing it up and laughing about it today.
"I see. Would you mind letting us take a look around inside?" "Oh, certainly."
The master and I were led to the second floor where the glass-shattering sound had supposedly occurred. There were two rooms and a small storage space, but the windows in every room were ordinary glass, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary at all. One of the rooms connected to a balcony. We stepped outside just in case, but it was a completely normal balcony with nothing that could make a loud noise.
"Master, do you feel anything?" I asked in a low voice, but there was no reply.
Next, we were shown the kitchen and various rooms on the first floor, but there was nothing particularly strange there either. Was it because it was daytime? We might have to come back out again at night. What a pain.
There was only one thing that had caught my eye the moment I stepped into the house, and it was still bothering me. It was the padding. Soft, thick carpet-like fabric was wrapped all around the hallways and indoor walls.
When I asked about it in the hallway, Ms. Nohara said, "Ah," and called out to the cat, "Mame." "Meow," the cat meowed as it came running. When it reached Ms. Nohara's feet, it rubbed its head affectionately against them. Lifting the cat into her arms, Ms. Nohara said, "This little one is blind."
Ah, that explained it. It all made sense. Earlier, when the cat was sitting on its owner's lap, it looked like it was just comfortably closing its eyes, but even now, the lifted cat's eyes remained tightly shut, as if glued that way.
"I try to be careful with the placement of furniture so there are as few obstacles as possible, but she loves running around. Since she constantly bumps her head into walls, I put these cushions all over the house so she doesn't get hurt." "She came running when you called just now; I wouldn't have guessed she couldn't see." Impressed, I brought my finger right in front of the cat's face. Still held by her owner, the cat stretched her head forward and, with her eyes still closed, sniffed the tip of my finger with her nose.
"Since she can't see, it's just normal for her. She probably figures things out through sound and smell. Also, I think she pretty much has the layout of the house memorized. She can walk smoothly to her food bowl and the litter box without making mistakes."
"Mame," Ms. Nohara said as she tossed a small cloth ball. The red beanbag-like ball seemed to have a bell inside, rolling down the hallway with a gentle *ring-ring-ring*. The cat chased after the cloth ball, caught it immediately, and began batting at it with her front paws to play.
"Though when she gets excited, she seems to lose track of things—ah, see, she bumped into it."
Mame bumped right into the hallway wall, but didn't care in the least and kept chasing the rolling ball. Watching that warmed my chest. Even though Mame had the handicap of being blind, she lived just like any ordinary cat. Her owner minimized furniture and padded the walls throughout the house to make sure she wouldn't get hurt. Seeing Ms. Nohara's kindness and the affection she poured onto the cat, I felt deeply moved.
Returning to the living room sofa, the master and I sat facing Ms. Nohara. "Well then? Did you find anything?" Ms. Nohara leaned forward anxiously. Mame was sitting right beside her owner again, perhaps feeling somewhat wary of the two guests.
"Well..." the master murmured, falling deep into thought. While deep in thought, he lightly stepped on the tip of my slipper—making sure Ms. Nohara wouldn't notice. *Huh?* Not understanding what had just happened, I looked back and forth between the master's face and the client's face, but nothing seemed amiss.
However, the next instant, I caught a glimpse of something strange at the edge of my vision. A shadow. A small shadow was visible near the wall at the back of the living room. *What is that?* A chill ran down my spine. I strained my eyes, but couldn't see it clearly.
"Do you have any idea what it might be?" Prompted by the master, the client shifted her gaze up and down, looking hesitant to answer. "Ah, well, you see..." Why was she hesitating? I understood she was bewildered by events that seemed nothing short of psychic phenomena. But she was clearly swallowing her words.
The master changed his question. "I hate to ask something rude, but have you visited a mental clinic or anything like that?" "Yes. With these things continuing, I wasn't getting enough sleep and it started affecting my work. I went for a checkup, and the doctor said some kind of stress might be the cause." "And the medication?" "No, not to that extent yet... We agreed that if it continued, I should come back in for another consultation and see how things go." "And so, it's still continuing."
Ms. Nohara's voice grew firmer. "But what I heard was real. This little one... even this little one heard it and was frightened." "The cat, too?" The master and I both looked at Mame the calico cat. She was sitting right beside her owner on the sofa, but she wasn't loafing in a relaxed posture. Looking restless, she was darting her gaze around. Earlier, when she was in Ms. Nohara's lap, she had been as quiet as if she were sleeping.
The cat's gaze turned toward the edge of the wall. A small, haze-like shadow was there. *Is she looking at it?* I grew tense. The master continued his questioning in a detached manner.
"Could that give you a clue? Perhaps... from a previous pet?" "Eh?" "For instance, your previous cat."
The moment she heard that, Ms. Nohara's expression changed. First, to one of delight. Then, to a stiffened look. "Did you see something?" she asked, leaning forward with a serious tone, and it finally hit me. The reason she had been hesitating earlier was because she doubted the master's psychic abilities. If she had brought it up herself—asking, *Could it perhaps be the cat I used to keep?*—a fraudulent psychic would have acted as if they had known all along...
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