The day after tomorrow, around noon, I went to Shishou's house. It was a Monday. Shishou, already dressed to go out, came right out and said, "Let's take my bike." With that, she tossed the luggage into the front basket of my bicycle and hopped on, standing with her feet on the rear wheel axle. For a split second, I felt her body heat through the palm resting on my shoulder. "First, Takaya General Research," a finger pointed out from over my head. "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pressing down hard on the pedals to convert our combined weight into kinetic energy. As I pedaled in silence for a while, Shishou suddenly spoke up. "I feel like someone's watching us." Her voice carried a note of caution. I instinctively turned my head to look at her, but she was just glancing around restlessly. I took a proper look at her appearance and muttered, "You're all dressed up." "What? Did you say something?" "No, nothing." Shishou usually wore sloppy clothes like tracksuits or jeans, never wore makeup, and didn't even bother to fix her bedhead. Today, however, she was neatly dressed in a navy blue business suit, wearing natural, tasteful makeup. She looked like a completely different person. And yet, here she was, riding double on a bicycle—standing on the back axle, no less. Naturally, she stood out. Completely oblivious to my thoughts, Shishou continued to scan her surroundings with suspicion. When we arrived in front of a building with a flashy sign reading "Takaya General Research," passersby stared at her, making her tilt her head in confusion. "Oh well, let's just borrow what we need and get going." I hadn't heard the details, but it seemed we were here to borrow something. This large detective agency was where Ogawa, the director of Ogawa Investigation Agency where we worked part-time, used to belong. Because of that connection, they still threw work our way and maintained various ties. Inside, a wide, air-conditioned floor was lined with numerous desks. Most of them were empty. Unlike Ogawa Investigation Agency, where they bluffed by setting up desks for employees who didn't even exist, here the daytime absence of staff was clearly due to being genuinely busy. Naturally. There couldn't be many jobs a detective could do while chained to a desk. "Oh, you're back," An older woman in a flashy red dress stood up from the reception desk and walked over. It was Ichikawa, the office clerk here.
She was a thirty-year veteran who had worked her way through several detective agencies, and her presence—knowing all the light and shadow of the industry—was both a source of reliability and terror for the staff. Or so I heard. To me, she just looked like a helpful, meddlesome aunt. That might have been because Shishou had somehow won Ichikawa over and was treated like a favorite. "Excuse me, could you lend me that set again?" "Sure. I haven't cleaned it up since you returned it the other day anyway." With that, Ichikawa brought out a small cardboard box. Taking it, Shishou asked, "Where's the director?" "With a client. Looks like it's going to be a while." "I see. Sounds like they're as busy as ever. I still haven't thanked you for last time, but please give him my regards." "Don't worry about it, we rarely ever use stuff like this anyway." She acted as if she owned the place. After greeting Ichikawa, we left, and outside, Shishou tied the cardboard box to the front basket of the bicycle. "They own this building, you know," Shishou said, looking up at the structure while waiting for me to finish. "Maybe I should join the company and take it over someday." It was probably a joke, but given what she was capable of, it left me with mixed feelings. Even though we were part-timers at Ogawa Investigation Agency—a self-proclaimed subcontractor of a subcontractor—her practical skills felt genuinely accomplished, as far as I could tell. Uncovering hidden things, without even referencing the etymology of "occult," seemed to suit her nature. Even a major detective agency like Takaya General Research could turn the unmanageable "ghost cases" they usually let slip through their fingers into realistic contracts. There were probably plenty of other people with strong spiritual awareness, but few understood how to use it this way. Still, I didn't particularly want to see her working under someone else as a full-time employee, let alone a part-timer. "Alright, then to the arcade!" Seeing that I was ready, she hopped back onto the rear axle of the bicycle. "Yeah, yeah." I pedaled hard, if not dashingly. Our speed gradually picked up.
Before long, we arrived at the arcade's bicycle parking lot. Since it was right around lunchtime, the downtown area around the arcade with its department store was bustling with people, even on a weekday. As instructed by Shishou, I unpacked the cardboard box and we stepped into a nearby public restroom. Inside the box were a yellow jacket that practically screamed "staff member," a green armband reading "Press," a neck-strap style name tag, a clipboard, and writing utensils. Equipped with these, we came out of the restroom, and Shishou took the name tag and hung it around her neck. The name tag had a cluttered design, but upon closer inspection, it only had a name written on it. It looked like a fake name made up on the spot. It seemed designed to be usable for anything. "Listen, this is a magazine survey. I'm the editor and you're the assistant." The explanation finally came. To collect stories from an unspecified number of people who had seen small people, we were going to conduct a street survey under the guise of a fictional local magazine. The setup was that we were doing research for a corner called "Your Horror Experiences" in a newly launching magazine called *My Town News*. I looked at the props she had prepared—the survey forms—which featured questions like: What region do you live in? Age? Have you ever encountered a psychic phenomenon? When was it? And in the list of encounters to choose from, there was a neat little checkbox for "small people." The meticulous preparation just to fake a street survey was typical of Shishou, who was a perfectionist and didn't mind wasting effort. "Well, at first I tried going around in normal clothes, asking people 'Would you please cooperate with a survey?', but because of the topic, people suspected it was a scam to sell spiritual goods, and it didn't go very well. When I cried to Ichikawa and borrowed this set, it somehow looked convincing enough to gather a decent number last time. And this time, since I have an assistant, it's foolproof." After a detailed briefing on how to answer if asked certain questions, we headed out into the crowd in front of the department store.
"Please cooperate with our survey!" Shishou raised her voice, putting on a polite front. Of course, there were no TV cameras, and people wouldn't just gather on their own, so Shishou boldly thrust the clipboard and pen at passersby. She delivered her practiced pitch to those who inadvertently took it, asking with a refreshing smile. Our first catch was a dreary, student-looking man with his shirt tucked into his trousers. "Ah, you just need to check those boxes~," Shishou rushed him, and he finished answering in under two minutes. He apparently hadn't seen anything like a ghost, so he was released easily. He still looked like he wanted to talk, but Shishou dismissed him with a disinterested expression, putting up a barrier of sheer atmosphere. Repeating this, on our sixth attempt, we finally caught someone who claimed to have encountered a psychic phenomenon. And what's more, she had seen a small person very recently. It was a young couple, and it was the woman. Seizing the moment, Shishou bombarded her with questions to draw out the minute details. Apparently, she was into track and field or something, and while running in a residential neighborhood early in the morning before the sky had even grown light, she felt the sound of small footsteps chasing behind her. When she turned around, no one was there. Thinking it was just her imagination, she faced forward and started running again, only to hear it once more—this time as a distinct sound. Frightened, she looked back and saw right beneath her, at her feet, a faceless, small, human-shaped lump of flesh trotting along right behind her. She screamed and fled at full speed, but the footsteps kept right up with her for a while. The steady, trotting rhythm never changed. Looking pale, the woman finally finished her story and asked, "Am I cursed by something evil?" Shishou thought for a moment before replying. "I think you'll be fine. Even while doing this survey, I've never met anyone who saw a ghost without a reason and got cursed afterwards." The woman looked unsatisfied with the irresponsible answer, but she was pulled away by her male companion, who said, "Let's go." Shishou's response was probably the right one. If she had spoken gravely about how spirits are such-and-such, or told her to visit a certain psychic if she was worried, or suggested buying a specific talisman, it might have truly seemed like a spiritual scam, making it hard to continue the survey.
However, I had been watching. Before giving that seemingly irresponsible answer, Shishou had worn a look as if peering straight through to the back of the woman's eyes. As if gazing at something lurking deep within. Shishou had answered with her own brand of sincerity. "Now, onto the next one." With that, Shishou coolly went about gathering surveys, and having caught on to the routine, I split up and continued calling out to people walking through the arcade one after another. Eventually, after about two and a half hours, Shishou said, "I'm tired, let's call it a day here," and I was relieved of my duties. When we counted the stack of collected questionnaires, there were ninety-two sheets. We would probably tally them after getting back, but at a glance, at least six respondents claimed to have seen small people. And all of them were recent stories. I didn't know what significance a ratio of six out of ninety-two held, but considering that people who had encountered psychic phenomena in the first place should make up less than half of the general population, six out of that subset felt like a sufficiently large number. When people hear "psychic phenomenon," they usually think of ghosts, spirit photography, or rapping noises. What on earth did it mean that sightings of small people had been increasing so much lately? "Hey. Don't space out. Once we're done, let's pack up and get moving." Urged by Shishou, I headed back to the public restroom. Once I stripped off the gear, I shoved it all into the cardboard box. As I went to close the lid, my hands suddenly stopped, overtaken by a strange sense of emotion. Shishou had the motivation to go this far just to hear ghost stories. That was something I was definitely lacking right now. Yet, thinking about Shishou's actions made my heart race inexplicably. I want to see what she's going to do. That's what I thought.
"Oh. Good work. Want a bento?" When I came out of the restroom, Shishou pulled something wrapped in silver foil from her bag. It was a rice ball. Leaving the arcade, we sat down in a small nearby park. In the park just past 2:00 PM, a few couples and a few children were sitting on benches and in the sandbox in various states of repose.
"Still, though. It's true that quite a few people said they saw small people, huh?" I frowned upon realizing there was no filling inside, and Shishou replied with a half-hearted "Yeah," as if thinking about something else, eating her nori-wrapped rice ball in silence. "Come to think of it, what was that last question?" At the very end of the survey form, there was a strange question: *Have you noticed any abnormalities with your favorite cup recently?* Among the people I handled, no one had checked "Yes." Curious, I had glanced at that section when counting the collected response sheets, and it seemed no one had answered "Yes" on Shishou's end either. Since she really only wanted to ask about small people, I figured it might just be space-filler, but even so, the content was bizarre. "Well, I wasn't really expecting much, but zero is... still, I kind of figured this would happen, so I have other leads." Shishou muttered something I didn't quite understand, nodding to herself. "Alright, let's eat and get moving. Next." "Eh, wait a second." Startled by Shishou standing up, I crammed the rest of the rice ball into my mouth. "Where to next?" "The medical department." We hopped back onto the bicycle for a double ride. The university Shishou and I attended had multiple campuses, and the medical department was located a bit further away within the same city. It was about a twenty-minute bicycle ride from our campus, but I had no business over there and was mostly unfamiliar with it. Clubs existed per campus as well, so each was mostly self-contained. "What business do you have at the medical department?" "I know an assistant professor there. There's something I want to ask." An acquaintance? Shishou had an uncanny number of acquaintances among university professors and assistant professors. It was natural if they were instructors in her own seminar, but she expanded her network not just to other departments, but even to other faculties. I secretly called her an "old-man killer," but when it came to investigating something, being able to ask a specialist directly was accurate and saved time. Perhaps more than her connections, the fact that she—a mere college student—had things she wanted to research so thoroughly, even extending into the fields of other faculties, was what made her truly unusual.
"This way, this way." I was about to take a wrong turn at the unfamiliar campus entrance when Shishou guided me. Since it was a weekday, many students could be seen on campus. And they, too, cast uninhibited glances toward Shishou and me. "Stop here." I got off the bicycle where directed. It was in front of the faculty building. "Today shouldn't be the university hospital side, probably." Shishou started walking briskly on her own. I tried to follow her, but she stopped me at the entrance. She told me to wait here. "Is it bad if I go with you?" "Yeah, it is. Other things are fine, but this time it's a delicate topic. I'm still figuring out how to crack this guy open. Sorry, but it's better if I go alone." I was desperately curious about what kind of topic it was, but I had no choice. "What is that assistant professor a specialist in?" To that question, Shishou exaggeratedly moved her mouth and whispered, "Psychiatry." "See you later," she said, and walked up the stairs of the faculty building.
About thirty minutes must have passed since then. I wandered around the entrance of the faculty building, but surrounded by the frequent comings and goings of doctor-to-be students, I felt a sense of alienation and discomfort seeing not a single familiar face. Every single one of them looked smugly smart. Among those students, I spotted Shishou in her suit. "Kept you waiting." She wore a look that felt faintly tired. "Did you get any harvest?" I asked, and she nodded. "But he was a tough nut to crack. That bastard is a pervert, I should've worn a miniskirt." She slapped her suit-clad thigh with her right hand.
"Did something happen to you?" "Idiot." Shishou started walking toward a nearby vending machine. "What did you ask him about?" As I chased after her, she answered in a whisper without looking back. "Ghost sightings are inevitably closely related to mental disorders." Her tone was detached. "Schizophrenia and epilepsy come with auditory and visual hallucinations, and drug-induced hallucinations are brutal. For a psychiatrist, whether or not a person sees ghosts is an important sign. Maybe I'm like that, too." At those words, I stopped in my tracks. Realizing this, Shishou turned around. "Inoue Enryo, a leading figure in Meiji-period folklore research, categorized supernatural phenomena. He called human-caused ones 'fake anomalies,' psychological factors like hallucinations and illusions 'mistaken anomalies,' and natural phenomena 'temporary anomalies.' And after stripping away all those that made up the majority of ghostly phenomena, he named the remaining handful of inexplicable occurrences 'true anomalies.' As I see it, for people who don't believe in the existence of ghosts, most experiences in this world are without exception lies, or else illusions or hallucinations. On the other hand, for people who do believe, there are two patterns. Namely, that all experiences are true. And another, that hidden among some lies, illusions, and hallucinations, the truth called a ghost lurks. Though in Inoue Enryo's case, he didn't think of 'true anomalies' quite as the name implied. He merely considered them phenomena yet unproven by current physical and cognitive science—what you might call unscientific. Everyone who thinks about what these inexplicable things they've seen actually are probably has their own answer. However. Even if what I'm seeing is a personal hallucination, if it possesses a certain formal identity, reproducibility, or impossibility that can be shared with others, then that fact in itself has meaning. A hallucination? Fine, call it a hallucination, an illusion, whatever. For now, tell me the reason *how* I managed to know information that only the dead could have known."
Shishou spread her arms wide and asked some imaginary someone right before her eyes. Then she looked into my eyes and grinned. "That doctor earlier, despite being a psychiatrist, is a guy who sees ghosts. It was getting so bad he was about to go out of business, but due to a certain turn of events, I made him go through something even worse. Whatever woke him up, he got over it after that, and now he's a pretty well-regarded psychiatrist. Well, being able to understand the patients' feelings probably turned him in a good direction."
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