No matter how popular a nice person is, even he or she would eventually would draw envy. Naturally, as soon as Jamal appeared at school after his long absence, everyone wanted to be around him. In no time at all, a wall akin to a fortress loomed before him.

"Are you okay, Jamal? Aren't you tired? Don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything I can help you with, okay?"

"Thank you, Ola. I feel much better now that I have seen your concerns. I really should have brought myself to come to school sooner," he put on a brilliant smile. Jamal then took a look at the surrounding people. "My sincere thanks to everyone else as well. I can't express how happy I am... that so many of you have worried about me. I am really lucky to have classmates like you!"

He closed his eyes softly without breaking his smile as he put his hands together in thanks.

Tempted by the deep emotion he was showing, they all put on meek expressions and nodded all together.

I almost had to snort upon seeing that Tundun and her guys were among them, too, with earnest faces that couldn't have suited them less.

Originally my classmates probably wanted to be the ones that comforted a disheartened Jamal, but in fact it turned out the opposite. If someone had taken a photograph of that scene and told me it was Jamal comforting his disheartened classmates, I would have believed it.

In other words, Jamal could do perfectly without our worthless pity.

Only when he was among masses of people like now, his true value surfaced.

Though everyone were in the same age group, only he was special and stood out from the others, shining almost like the moon in the darkest night: magnificently and full of elegance.

As there was no way to get through the impregnable fortress that was protecting him, I was degraded to a mere "Villager A" who beheld the captivating prince from afar.

From time to time, however, our eyes met.

I can't deny that I found myself not incapable of interpreting his demanding gaze as an appeal to rescue him. But for one thing I would have looked stupid if I was wrong, and for another thing it was unreasonable to voluntarily take such a calorie-consuming action for someone like me who does not care two figs about chivalry. Thus, I slipped out of the uncomfortable classroom and brilliantly fulfilled my role as Villager A by silently watching the clouds through the corridor window until homeroom began.

Even during breaks the situation didn't change.

It didn't take me long to realize that I wouldn't be able to properly talk to him at school for a while, thus I chose to spend my breaks in the quiet corridor, away from the noise.

As a reaction to my quick resignation, clever Jamal started to write messages on a quartered report sheet and passed them to me during the breaks because he couldn't talk to me directly.

To prevent the others from noticing, he gave them to me while passing me by without looking at me. He either handed the letters to me or just put them into my pocket.

By the time school was over, five of them had come into my possession.

I laid them out in the order I had received them, starting with the one I had gotten in the first break.

«Why didn't you help me?»

«You know my feelings, don't you?»

«It's been so long since we could talk.»

«I think I will be in the library during lunch break.»

«I forgot how cold-hearted you are.»

He had surely realized that messaging would have done the job. I sensed a kind of unyielding spirit and pride from the fact that he still chose to stick to those messages.

By the way, I had indulged myself in a midday nap during that lunch break. Because I would have to deal with him at work after school anyway.

Besides, there was still one scrap he had not given me yet, judging from the pattern she used. The "after-school"-message. I had in mind to react after reading that one.

As expected, she let a scrap of paper fall on my desk as he passed me by while cheerfully saying goodbye to our classmates.

A smile escaped my mouth when I read the hastily written message. It was at last a request I couldn't reject, so I quickly packed my bag and left the classroom.

«This day tired me. I don't want to walk. I'll take you to the café in my car. In return I'll forgive your behavior today.»

As it seemed, it's not always easy to be in the spotlight. Just watching had annoyed me, so I figured his exhaustion had to be huge.

Since I was satisfied by having gotten him to show a sign of weakness, though only in letters, I was willing to answer the prince's wishes for once and accompany him.

When I left the school building with such thoughts, my eyes found a tall man near the front gate.

He spotted me immediately and signaled me to come by waving me to him, while "hiding" in the shadow of the gate.

I would have preferred to just feign ignorance, but he wasn't someone that would allow me to ignore him. He would simply pursue me until he had me.

I took out my mobile phone, quickly typed in a message and sent it. I informed Jamal that I could not accompany him to the café.

I didn't want to involve him in "that matter". Not out of some sparkling heroism to protect him, but because I considered it a private affair.

A reply returned a few seconds later.

«I don't care about you anymore!»

What speed, considering the number of letters! I could well imagine him pressing the buttons of his phone with a furious wrath at an imperceptible speed.

Even though I felt a little upset as I looked up at the clear blue sky, I had to acknowledge it was my own fault and gave up. After all, it was I who had evaded him that entire day.

It's not like there was a special reason.

I simply hadn't wanted to become one among many.

"Ya! Let's get into my car instead of standing here."

Mr. Ijapa was in a good humor as always.

"What do you want from me this time?" I responded purposefully in ill-humor.

"Do I have to tell you?" He asked

"Yes. I have to go to work afterward, so I find myself constrained to refuse if it's useless talk."

"Mh... well, I can surely tell you right now, but it's some really nasty stuff that shouldn't be said at the gate of a school. Still wanna know?" he stressed with a heavily wrinkled brow, giving me the pleasure of bathing in the shocked glances of the surrounding students.

"...Let's just go. Come on." I acquiesced tiredly.

"Thank you for your ready approval! It's a pleasure to work with you, Gabriella!"

I saw that staying here would only give birth to bad rumors, so I reluctantly followed him out of the gate.

Mr. Ijapa's car, parked near the school in a side alley, was a bright blue pickup car that quite suited his style.

"Nice car, huh? He smirked.

"Is it okay for a police detective to park on the street?" I rolled my eyes.

I didn't recognize the make of his car, but I very easily recognized the no parking sign right next to the car.

"It's okay because I am a police officer. If I hypothetically get a fine for illegal parking, I can just make good use of my position and cover up the misdemeanor." He laughed.

"What a corrupt world." I said dryly.

"I wonder who made it like this?" He whistled

"Deep inside you should know." I said, staring pointedly at him

"Oh, how philosophic. Too deep for me, so hop in already." The unaffected expression he showed as he played dumb suited him perfectly. Since I had to admit that, I had no choice but to give in and take a seat.

"—A couple of days ago you explained to me what happened on the day when Jamal's father went missing, remember? At that restaurant."

"Yes."

The second I sat down on the passenger seat, Mr. Ijapa began talking in an earnest voice.

The authority he emitted made it seem as though the air of the car had been compressed in a split second, sending the previously peaceful mood away far away.

"Actually, I've hashed and rehashed it in my mind, but there are some points that just won't make sense to me."

Mr. Ijapa brought down the window and lighted a cigarette from his breast pocket.

"Take the phone call from her mother's workplace. If you ask me, that timing was too good. Don't you think Youko-chan actually made sure that she would get that call when she was together with you?" he blew a stream of smoke out of the window, "Don't you think it's strange that the phone rang precisely the moment she clung to you?"

The scene of that rainy night's crossroads—of the colorful umbrellas—rose into my mind.

"How would she make them call her at a good timing?"

It goes without saying that the timing had caught my attention. However, I did not know how to get someone to make such a convenient call.

"He could have left behind his number in their call history right before hugging you, for an example."

It was an emergency case.

"Considering how pressing the thing was, they may have called him several times already while you were working?"

For the gym, their boss was missing without notice and was completely unavailable at that. It's perfectly thinkable that they would have promptly called back any number in their unaccepted call history, even if it was an unknown one.

"However, nobody knew whether he had gotten a call or not. You couldn't find out just by being at the same place," Mr. Ijapa's mouth broke into a grin, "Unless you got in close contact by, say, hugging each other."

I recalled what I had felt that night; the vibration reaching me via his hug that had been pressed against my body.

"...indeed, his mobile phone was set to... silent mode."

"That's exactly what I mean. Well, you also mustn't forget that we're dealing with Jamal. It's also possible that there was no call in the first place. In other words, he pretended. He accted."

"Acted?" I repeated like a parrot.

"Have you ever heard of the alarm function?"

"Of course! Do you think I'm a—" I began, but couldn't continue because I realized at once what he was getting at.

Mr. Ijapa went on, "Phones don't only vibrate for incoming calls. The alarm functions lately have become really handy; they keep on vibrating until you execute the predefined operation."

"Would he really do that?" I asked myself silently with several question marks popping up over my head. However, taking only the point of whether it's possible or not into consideration, the answer was clear.

"You can't be sure if it's him, can you?"

I couldn't deny it. I was positive that he could have done it.

"Well, we don't know if he acted or if there really was a call. It's just that your explanation leaves those possibilities open. But either way, it's not relevant. Feel free to forget about it. His real intention lies somewhere else, after all."

"His real intention...?"

Mr. Ijapa kept silent, waiting for my next words; probably because he had noticed that I was pondering.

His primary objective that night, which he was even willing to feign a call for, was—

"—to lure me to his home?"

He snapped his fingers, "Bingo! It makes sense if his goal was to get you to his home. No one would leave someone whose father has just gone missing. Even someone as dry as you wouldn't. Well, and you did go to his home in the end."

I reconsidered that night with the events Mr. Ijapa pointed out in mind.

—It was as though a crumbled block was reconstructed at a terrific speed. And the newly built block had a completely different shape.

While crushing his cigarette in the ashtray, he continued, "I think you got it. He assigned the task of discovering the suicide note to you."

A cold shiver ran down my back.

If he was right about that, everything that had happened that night had been based on a scenario written by Jamal.

"There's another doubtful aspect apart from that. Recall what happened right when you arrived at his home. If I'm not mistaken the first thing he did was getting you a towel to wipe your wet body," he raised his head and looked at me with a razor-sharp gaze, "That's not normal, is it? The first action one would normally take isn't 'getting a towel' but 'finding that father'!"

Having come to the conclusion that Jamal had not killed anyone, I was supposed to deny his opinion, regardless of what it consisted of.

"Indeed, you do have a point. It also stands true, however, that I could clearly sense that nobody was in the house the moment I stepped into the building. I'd say that Jamal must have been able to perceive the situation much more clearly than I, the outsider, who'd only come for the second time."

Nevertheless, I was impressed by everything he pointed out.

"You mean that Jamal was able to conclude that his mother wasn't there even without searching the house?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"I don't think so," Mr. Ijapa flashed a masterful grin, "But I'm an adult, experienced in the ways of the world and all, you know, so I just can't think as straightly as you do."

Seeing how he was able to conclude so much just with the little information he had, he deserved his title as a detective. He really was an extremely capable person. He made me understand that once more.

I even found myself impatient for more—

"The thing may be that his father was already dead when you went there, and he knew it. Thus, he wasn't eager to search for him. It's possible to interpret his unnatural behavior in such a way, don't you agree?"

"...So?" My forced voice was a little hoarse. "What are you getting at?"

Because I knew exactly what Mr. Ijapa was going to answer.

The instant I averted my eyes from him—his long arm whooshed past my head and his hand landed hard on the the passenger side window.

"Was it over your head? Then I'll be frank with you..." His sharp features were directly before me as he leaned forward. The stench of smoke assaulted my nose.

"...that guy, Jamal, has killed his father!"

After declaring that, his gaze was drawn towards the front window.

Following him, I also directed my eyes there. Ahead of the straight side alley was the main street, bathed in madder red. One could see students on their way home passing by like fishes swimming.

There was one person that had gotten separated from the bulk, standing still at the opening of the alley.

The silhouette was slightly built and dark. Due to the backlight the sunset produced, I couldn't make out his face. What I clearly did recognize, however, was that the university guy over there was gazing at us.

He wasn't approaching us, nor was he walking away; just staring in our direction. That shadow had a terrifically strong presence to it despite just standing there without even interacting with us.

I delved deep into the seat and quickly urged, "...please get us out of here right now."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Ijapa asked with his gaze still on the front window.

"Yes," I answered, whereupon he replied with a stressed "Hmmm?"

The next moment, he switched once to neutral before quickly shifting gears and backing out of the narrow side alley at a breakneck speed. In no time we arrived at the street opposite the male student.

During that I could do nothing but tightly clench my fist.

At first Mr. Ijapa said nothing, but when we came upon a red traffic light, he returned to the topic as if he had been waiting for it.

"I'm sure I don't have to explain to you that he fulfills all necessary prerequisites to fake his father's suicide note, right?"

I nodded. That was my limit. I didn't know what would come out if I opened my mouth.

"He's a bright guy. He knew that authenticity would rise dramatically if the note was discovered by a third party rather than himself. And he chose you for that part. Well, his plan worked out splendidly since you did find it for him."

I ground my teeth.

"I also think that as a family member he should have had no trouble killing his father. I mean, let's not even start listing the ways he could have used to take him out! What remained was to go to that forlorn park on the high ground and push him down the cliff."

I was clenching my fist so hard it hurt.

"Child's play for him, right?"

Don't talk big like that! You don't know him as well as I do!—I found myself fighting with the urge to shout out all this.

What compelled me that moment was not impatience anymore but raw anger. Hearing someone else talk about him like that irritated me as if having my garden trampled down by strangers.

Mr. Ijapa pulled the car onto the sidewalk and smiled, "We're here."

I peeked out and found that he had parked along the main street, near the café.

I gave him a nod, "Thank you."

The next moment he put on his usual frivolous smile and shrugged like an American.

"Sorry for startling you. But once in a while I have to show you that I'm still a policeman, a detective, you know," he grinned, but his eyes weren't at all smiling, "And I don't want to cause the misunderstanding that you can hide things from me forever." He pulled me closer by my shoulder, "...I would be very thankful if you could soon recall some interesting info, since that would save me some messy work..."

His emphatic whisper sent a cold shiver down my spine. I guessed that being threatened with a knife pressed against one's neck had to be a similar experience.

I averted my gaze without replying and discovered the reflection of a person in the window.

There was a grim university lady who didn't move a muscle with the exception of the blinking of her eyes. I noticed that the hand of that student was holding onto her left breast.

I felt a familiar touch with my fingers.

—The murder plan.

I had strained my hand without noticing it.

It was the one thing I had to protect no matter what.

Because the murder plan embodied the only point where I had the upper hand over Mr. Ijapa and was my last trump card against Jamal.

Mopping the dim café after closing time. Suddenly, a shadow obstructed the course of my mop. I looked up and found the owner of the shadow standing with legs spread and arms crossed.

"Did you have an argument or something?" asked Emma, looking down at me with a deeply wrinkled brow.

"Argument? Who? With whom?" I wasn't playing dumb. I honestly didn't know.

"Are you dumb? You and Jamal of course, who else?"

"I really don't think I'm dumb... but anyway, what gives you that idea?"

"It's pretty damn obvious if anyone looked at you two! You haven't talked at all lately, have you?"

While leaning onto the mop, I thought about it. "...we haven't?"

I remembered next to nothing of today's work.

"Doesn't surprise me. It was obvious that you were miles away."

Now that he mentioned it, I had to admit that in my thoughts I had been "miles away" with Mr. Ijapa indeed. I had been pondering over a way to surpass that man non-stop during work.

The more I thought about it, the more I came to think that I had no chance of beating him.

"Anyway, leaving that aside since it's nothing new in your case—"

"Objection!"

"Overruled!"

He had no sympathy.

"Let me carry on; this time Jamal's acting strange as well. It looks like he's actively avoiding you to me," he thrust out his chin and drew herself up, "So, what have you done to him? Come on, try to explain yourself. At least I'll hear you out."

As usual, he was so stubborn with his opinion that it was refreshing.

"Are you unable to think that I might be the victim?"

"Yeah. I'm on Jamal's side whatever happens."

"What an unreasonable world!"

"Ohh, you only noticed just now?" he answered my lamenting words haughtily, "The world's unreasonable and unjust wherever you go; otherwise social stratification would not exist in the first place. So why should I bother playing a saint if the world's very setup is already shit? I live by my own rules."

If you ever tried giving the word "self-centered" a form, you would definitely get this man in front of you.

"My way of life is simple, isn't it?" He said happily.

Well, it was simple indeed.

Her rule was just one: getting his will whatever others say. Nothing more.

But I couldn't imagine just how hard it had to be to pull that "nothing more" through. It's not something anyone can do. Not everyone is as strong as she is.

But he carried on playing his guitar without letting the noise of the world interrupt his concert.

There are bound to be some that brand people like him as trouble-makers, as egoists, or even hate them. I agreed insofar that it was a highly justified view.

"...indeed. So simple I'm almost jealous."

To my chagrin, however, I found myself understanding her very well.

I couldn't help but be amused by such a reckless man who would hold a mike with one hand and show the masses the middle finger with the other. As one of his fans I thought, "One or two like him wouldn't do any harm to the world."

"Okay, you oughta apologize now." He said

"To you?" I played dumb. Jamal smiled, amazed.

"Idiot. No use apologizing to me, is there. You should apologize to the chit-sorting 'prince' who's sneaking peeks at us from over there!" said the "king" in a loud voice.

I turned around and discovered Jamal standing at the register where no one had been at the start of our conversation. Our eyes met.

"It hath come to my ear that Your Highness wisheth for an apology. Is it true?" I asked in a quite sardonic tone, upon which Jamal dropped his gaze immediately to his hands.

"Why should I need an apology? We have not at all had an argument with each other, have we?" he answered while sorting one chit after the other.

"His Highness begs to differ, I fear?" I said looking at Emma

"Just look, does that look to you like he's not angry at you? He couldn't make it more obvious! Now, come on, I'm bothering to act as a go-between for you, so take action and say you're sorry already."

"Don't worry, bro Emma, I am not angry in the least. But even if we were in the middle of a quarrel and if I wished for an apology from Gabriella, there would be no point if she does not feel any guilt. I would still prefer no apology at all over getting an idle one that is not meant by heart," said Jamal in one breath.

"'Don't worry'? 'Not angry in the least'?" I was irritated by Jamal's indirect and ironic allusions, "If he wants to say something, he should make himself clear, don't you agree, Emma?"

"Now, look at that, bro Emma. You can't call it a quarrel if Gabriella is not even aware of what she has done."

"I won't apologize, Emma! Hes just getting worked up all on his own."

"Bro Emma, let's not bother with that blockhead anymore."

Suddenly, Emma tousled his hair with both hands and...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

...shouted from the top of his lungs.

"Hell! Just shut up! You're getting on my nerves!"

The manager and Ibukun cautiously peeked out of the staffroom to check what was going on.

"This! Really! Is! A pain!"

Emma wound his arm around my head and took me into a neck-hold. He ignored my complaints and proceeded rapidly towards the register while yelling, "Come here!"

Upon arriving there, he stretched out his free arm, as could be expected, and took Jamal by the neck in the same manner.

We two, constrained at Emma's side, were forced to face each other from close up whether we wanted or not.

I did not want to see Jamal's face in the least.

"You know, I'm really not that patient! I can't stand such a pain anymore! Forget about the remaining work and just get out!"

He yelled down at us, saying things about his temper everybody already knew.

"Gabriella!You apologize to Jamal! And Jamal, you forgive her when she does!" He said while scowling at us in turn, "I don't care about the reason behind this quarrel, but make sure you make up with each other on the way to the bus stop! Then you come to work tomorrow as usual! Got it? That's an order!"

Before I knew it, Jamal and I were exchanging glances, and a moment later sighing as if on cue.

"Hey, what about your reply!?"

Faced with the overwhelming commands that rained down on us, we exchanged glances once more and had no choice but to nod reluctantly, "...understood."

Solely lit by white street lights, we walked along a narrow alley towards the station. We were silent. Jamal must have dropped his car at home before coming for work.

Upon entering the way along the main street , our field of vision was filled with gorgeous neon light. The number of people increased in proportion to the illumination, and so did the noise. The headlights of the cars passing us by made us flare up in yellow. Far away a siren was resounding, whereas in the proximity a dog was raising a forceful bark to fight it back. And we were silent.

Jamal was the first to give in to the oppressive air.

He stopped abruptly.

"You have been a little strange lately," he whispered, getting straight to the point, "Is there something bothering you?"

"Do I look that way?" I asked back.

He tilted his neat chin a bit and asked further, "Perhaps it is related to Mr. Ijapa?"

I did not remember having spoken about Mr. Ijapa in hispresence—

"I have heard he visited the café when I was absent."

—but I figured that there were some things he already knew.

"According to bro Emma, you two get on well together, just like a couple."

What on earth had Emma told him about us? Not that I wanted to know.

"That's none of your business," I spat out bluntly and averted my gaze from him.

I didn't want to talk about Mr. Ijapa with him.

"But it is!"

I insisted on settling the matter with Mr. Ijapa without his interference.

"I say it's not."

Of course I was aware that he had no way of knowing that I didn't want to drag him in.

"I can't just ignore it!" his eyes suddenly turned serious, "There is nothing about you that's not important to me."

In Jamal's wide opened and clear eyes I was reflected with an awfully disinterested face.

Stop it! Don't look at me with such eyes!

While I was not at all in the position to complain to him for insistently probing into a subject I shunned—I was the one of us who wanted to hide her feelings, after all—I gave in to my displeasure and raised my pace.

"I hate insistent men!"

It might have still been forgivable if I had been just acting, but unfortunately I had been simply unable to hide my irritation.

As a matter of fact, I had been quite taxed recently. I was frustrated because I wasn't making progress with Mr. Ijapa. I was pressured because I was unable to find a way to break that deadlock. I was in constant unrest that he might find out about the murder plan.

And most of all, I felt inferior to Jamal.

Suddenly, Jamal pulled my arm from behind, "Come here." He drew me to an old bench near a bus stop and made me sit down. Then he trotted off towards a kiosk, a couple of meters away and quickly came back with two bottles in his hands.

He put on a smile, "You like 'this', don't you?"

He thrust a cold and wet Fanta bottleto me. I was so taken aback that I completely forgot about my irritation.

... Jamal really was not to be underestimated. Apparently he had been all ears to our talk in the classroom.

"If we get into a quarrel here again even though bro Emma told us to make up, I won't be able to face him tomorrow."

I snatched the bottle away from him, opened it and took a long gulp of the cool orange-colored liquid.

"We can consider ourselves lucky to have someone that worries so much about us. Don't you agree?"

The sour but refreshing taste of the orange drink soothed my boisterous feelings effectively.

"...It's as you say. I'm sorry."

Jamal sat down next to me. "No, please forgive me." His hair-ends swayed. "I tried being sulky for once," he chuckled with his gaze still dropped, "Because you have been giving me the cold shoulder lately."

He brought his face to mine with reproachful eyes.

"Please come to my place again sometime. I promise I won't do anything you don't like anymore, okay?" He said jokingly and laughed, but I couldn't help finding a trace of loneliness in his face. I recalled that he was all alone now.

Jamal's house was large; and had to feel even larger without any cohabitants. Various worries crossed my mind.

"...but you've been quite occupied yourself, too, recently."

As a matter of fact, I had gotten my plate much too full with Mr. Ijapa alone to care about Jamal, but I felt a little guilty upon seeing him lonely like that.

"Oh yes, because a certain someone did not only refrain from helping me but also ignored me completely, I had no time for recreation at school."

"Well, you have my sympathies."

"I'm sure you aren't joking but really mean it like that..." Jamal shrugged his shoulders exaggeratedly along with a small sigh.

Sure enough, I had decided to give priority to the affair with Mr. Ijapa rather than Jamal's situation.

"At any rate, I'll try to act normal at the café, so please tell Emma something positive, too," I ended our conversation and stood up.

"—Mr Ijapa and you are like siblings with an age gap," Jamal murmured, "Perhaps it was that, supported by the fact, that made me feel unhappy and left out."

I sat down again on the bench and peeked at his seemingly brooding face from the side.

"...Mr. Ijapa and I are like siblings, you say? Haven't you also compared Emma and I in a similar way?"

"Yes, I have. Now that you say it, all three of you resemble each other. Of course I don't mean your looks by that, you understand?"

"Care to elaborate?"

I was very interested in how I looked in his eyes.

"Let me think... I don't know if it's the right expression to use, but you three somehow resemble each other in your 'way of life'."

"...our way of life, huh."

"I'm sorry that I can't put it clearly."

"No, I think I get what you mean."

'Way of life' was a rather wide term, but if interpreted as something like 'our values', then I had to admit that theirs and mine weren't so different. I was sympathizing with them in many regards.

Jamal's opinion was most interesting, which is why I felt inclined to ask more. Especially about Mr. Ijapa. .

"Tell me, what do you think about Mr. Ijapa? He's quite a strange guy, don't you agree?"

Jamal rested his chin on his hand and meaningfully sighed, "He sure is!"

"You don't look pleased," I stated.

"I don't really like him. I don't feel comfortable when he's around me because I have to be cautious of his attempts to read my character all the time. So it's really tiring to be together with him for too long. I wonder if all detectives are like him?"

He pulled his shoulders in as if he were attacked by a cold shiver.

I haven't seen him like this very often. If it's Mr. Ijapa however, anyone would show a similar reaction. That man was not normal.

"In comparison I would want to be by your side for hours and hours. I wonder why that is?" He cocked his head and peeked into my face like a little devil.

"Don't ask me," I averted my eyes after deigning him a look, "I don't know about other detectives, but I'm pretty sure he belongs to a very peculiar category. He constantly leads me by the nose. I'm no match for him."

Right. I was at my wit's end. Maybe he had been too strong an opponent for me from the beginning.

"But as a man who resembles him, you should understand him much better than I do," he said, "Right?" Jamal formed his mouth into a crescent moon smile.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Don't you think that he cares more than necessary about you and not me because he likes you? It's normal to feel special about people that seem to understand you," he added.

My heart reacted fiercely to each of his words.

"That's a lie. I have no idea what he thinks."

"Indeed. From time to time I have no idea what you think, either, Gabriella," he giggled, shaking his head.

My mind was blurry—the trail felt so near and still I couldn't see it.

"What are you getting at? I fail to comprehend what you want to tell me."

But I was confident that the trail was somewhere ahead.

"Mhh, as I said, you two resemble each other!" Jamal put on a mischievous smile and purred pretentiously.

"No, I've heard that already."

When I gave him an urging look, he shrugged lightly in an uncomfortable manner and finally opened his mouth.

My mind cleared up the very moment her words reached my ears.

"If you want to know what he thinks, just think about what you would do in his place!"

Because we resembled each other. Our trains of thought should resemble as well — he added with a smile.

Without waiting for him to finish speaking, I started thinking.

I matched mr. Ijapa's actions so far with my own thoughts. What would I do? What would I want to do? Ideas started flooding into my head without end.

"...sorry. There's something I have to do," I told him quickly, pressed some money into her hand and ran off home. I rushed through the night town without caring about his yell that caught up with me.

I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to be alone and collect my overflowing thoughts.

I hadn't found a clear answer to how I could settle that affair with Mr. Ijapa — I was going to think about that now — but I was on the right trail.

This matter doesn't necessarily have to end with a clear result. And it's not important what the truth behind the incident is. Those were the two things I was sure of.

Why? — Because I thought so.