Kyoko's Short Stories: Kyoko Okitegami's Photo Shoot
At the Okitegami Detective Agency,
A request to find a missing person arrives—?
Inspector Koshimai was an exceedingly exceptional figure among the officers who sought investigative assistance from the Forgetful Detective. She was, in fact, so unique that she might as well have been the only one who considered Ms. Kyoko Okitegami a friend. Of course, she was acutely aware that this wasn't quite the truth. A friendship where one needs to present a police badge every time they meet simply cannot exist. Naturally, Ms. Kyoko herself adhered to the first rule of the Forgetful Detective, reset their relationship every day, with each sleep.
Yet, to Inspector Koshimai, Ms. Kyoko was a friend regardless. Even if the detective wasn't bound by her strict confidentiality, the policewoman would still visit the Okitegami Building for advice whenever an investigation hit a dead end. To tell the truth, there had been times when she had knocked on that door not for investigation reasons, but simply because she happened to be nearby and wanted to have tea during her leave. Her superiors frowned upon this behavior, but Koshimai believed that the real issue lay in the current system that prevented Ms. Kyoko from stepping into the spotlight despite her being the key to solving many cases. It was the law that was flawed. As a police officer, and yes, as a 'friend,' she never took Ms. Kyoko’s reluctance to be in the limelight into account. To her that was what friendship meant: a type of consideration that disregards the other’s wishes.
However, today's visit to the detective's office wasn’t for tea or Ms. Kyoko's company—she was facing a bewildering case.
She came to seek advice—though this made her no different from other inspectors who visited Ms. Kyoko secretly with difficult cases. However, Koshimai's ‘bewildering case' wasn't a secret or even a difficult one. It was the kind one might readily share on a blog, if she hadn't stopped updating hers after her boss reprimanded her for it.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Kyoko Okitegami, detective." The white-haired woman greeted her in the agency’s reception room, treating her as if it were their first meeting.
"Ms. Kyoko, are you good at finding people?" Koshimai cut to the chase.
"Finding people? Well, I am a detective," she replied with a playful tone. "Though I've forgotten what I'm good at."
Adorable. The policewoman loved that mannerism. She adored her.
"It might be my specialty?"
Indeed, finding people is one of a detective's main tasks—much more common than solving bloody serial killings.
But when it came to whether this was the main task of a famed detective, Koshimai wasn't quite sure, so better to ask first.
"So your request is to find someone, Inspector Koshimai?"
"A request, you could say—"
Though she had entered with her police badge and would be paying a fee, categorizing it simply as a request felt somewhat inadequate to her.
"—It might be more of a grievance, or perhaps a love tale. Oh, not mine though."
"Grievances and love tales are welcome. Either way, there's a business opportunity there. It’s a goldmine waiting to be tapped," Ms. Kyoko said, sounding less like a detective and more like an entrepreneur.
That entrepreneurial spirit (the second rule of the Forgetful Detective) was another of her charming traits in Koshimai's eyes. To her, everything about Kyoko was praiseworthy.
In any case, being what she claimed to be her specialty, there was no room for refusal.
Inspector Koshimai got to the point, speaking as a friend.
Grievances and love tales.
The troublesome matter that made Inspector Koshimai want to bury her head in her hands came not through a report from a good citizen, but in the form of a consultation from a friend—not a one-sided friendship like she had with Ms. Kyoko, but from an old friend from student days.
"My fiancé went missing just before our wedding. I need your help to find him," was the essence of it.
It’s not typically something you’d hear every day. A groom or bride getting cold feet and running away to a lesser or greater extent isn’t unheard of—it’s hard to say this especially in front of an old, intimate friend.
Therefore, in this case, the advice would be, "Trust your fiancé, and wait a bit longer," but the friend was adamant.
'He’s not that kind of person.'
'He wouldn’t just disappear without a word.'
'Please, Koshimai, find my husband.'
With a face so desperate it was hard to outright refuse. However, it was debatable whether this constituted a case.
If it isn’t a case but rather a situation, it is a serious one. But for now, it’s a civil matter—not the same as a missing child.
Of course, an adult disappearing from societal obligations is a major concern, but that’s likely why her friend used her connections with Inspector Koshimai instead of going through usual police channels.
Having a fiancé disappear isn’t something one can easily discuss with the police or even parents. But the proverb "A friend in need is a friend indeed" seemed apt for such times.
If she was truly worried, the only thing Koshimai could advise, though it was difficult, was to officially file a missing person report in the police district where her fiancé lives. But if they weren’t married yet, could she file the report?
She could, but she would need to persuade his family. Such an awkward "marriage greeting," which Koshimai, having no experience, couldn’t fully understand.
Honestly, Koshimai had been tired of her friend’s love stories since high school, so she saw this as just another lover’s quarrel. She was just relieved it happened before the wedding invitations were sent out and felt no urge to take it back to the office to assess its criminal nature.
'You’re the only one I can rely on.'
Given her plea and her grip on Koshimai’s hand, the best Koshimai could offer was, "How about hiring a detective for the matter?"—essentially passing the buck.
'This is the man I need you to find. His name is─'
Setting down her personal smartphone on the table, Koshimai displayed the photo her friend had forwarded to her.
Not an official police image, merely a personal snapshot capturing a moment of everyday life—him eating in his apartment, noodles supposedly cooked by her friend. When had she become that kind of person? Well, she likely didn’t make the noodles, but it was a side of her Koshimai didn’t know.
“They say photographs most express the heart of the photographer—so, this photo was taken by your friend?”
Ms. Kyoko picked up the smartphone from the table and held it up to the ceiling light, as if trying to see through it. Given that it wasn’t a printed photo, nothing would appear different by doing so.
“Hmm, impressive. Handsome indeed.”
Her comment was so off-target that it transcended absentmindedness, leaving Inspector Koshimai irritated for some reason. Surely, there was no logical reason to be annoyed over a (one-sided) friend complimenting another (old) friend’s boyfriend.
“Well, it might be edited,”
“Edited? You mean digitally altered? Does your friend possess such advanced technical skills?”
“It’s neither advanced nor particularly technical these days. Nowa—”
Koshimai started but then caught herself. Bringing up the concept of "nowadays" in front of the Forgetful Detective was a bit tactless.
For Ms. Kyoko, there is only today.
Which means, in essence, "nowadays" doesn’t exist for her. But that doesn’t mean Koshimai could just stop mid-sentence.
“...There are apps now that can tell you someone’s location. Editing a photo is a breeze.”
She managed to connect the ideas a bit awkwardly.
“You can resize, adjust colors, erase people who photobombed, and even change hairstyles or expressions—with a swipe of your finger. The idea that photos capture the truth is outdated.”
The remark about photos showing the photographer’s true heart had long lost its original meaning.
“Huh, that’s remarkable,”
Ms. Kyoko responded with a reaction that was hard to interpret—whether she was impressed by the technology or dismayed by it. She continued to hold up the smartphone, but it was clearly impossible to determine if a photo was edited just by looking at it that way.
“But finding someone based on an edited photo? Even for a master detective like me, that’s quite the challenge.”
“Well, I doubt this particular photo has been edited that extensively.”
Koshimai’s attempt to backtrack sounded contradictory, driven purely by her jealousy of her friend’s boyfriend.
Her friend might be vain, but certainly not foolish. Even if there was some digital enhancement, Koshimai hoped it wouldn’t hinder the detective.
Koshimai corrected her course, providing Ms. Kyoko with the boyfriend’s full name, age, occupation, and current address—not as a police officer, but as a friend, albeit in quotation marks.
Did this breach confidentiality? Perhaps, but.
“It seems she suspects foul play due to his disappearance just before their wedding. She thinks he might have been involved in some crime.”
“Were there any signs? Threats to his life?”
“No, it seems she believes he fell victim to a spur-of-the-moment crime like a robbery—simple as that.”
'You see, he’s really wealthy.'
Koshimai herself wouldn't know.
From her experience, such personal information often seemed more like boasting and wasn’t very reliable—probably because she knew dissecting such claims might appear crass. The room in the photo, cluttered and cramped, didn't match the life of someone targeted for their wealth.
Since her friend had given her a spare key, she could search the apartment if she wanted. A room search could be quick. Even if Ms. Kyoko decided to do that, Koshimai, police officer though she was, could not join such an investigation. Though the table crowded with ingredients for somen noodles seemed more like her friend had overdone it more than anything else...
"Do you think she won over this wealthy man starved for ordinary affection with warm, home-cooked meals?"
If so, it would be quite a stereotypical story, but she didn’t think Ms. Kyoko was seriously saying that. More likely, the detective seemed like the type who would dislike such a storyline.
"But inspector, he certainly seems wealthy. The clothes he wears are top-notch, and his accessories are exquisite."
"The utensils are far too fine for everyday use, and the furniture is tasteful. Maybe not famous brands, but certainly not cheap."
"People say you can gauge a lifestyle by the quality of the curtains, but unfortunately, the window isn’t visible."
"Because the room is tiny."
Was that all she could manage to say?
At this point, she really was the petty friend jealous of another friend’s boyfriend—each time Ms. Kyoko praised him, the policewoman reflexively countered.
"Hmm. So, Inspector Koshimai, you don't think this is a noble money-motivated crime?"
As a result, she inadvertently led the Forgetful Detective's reasoning astray. Although the way she phrased it, it almost sounded like a crime motivated by money could be considered noble.
It's the money that is valuable, not the crime.
...That too is a weird way to put it.
However, having come to the detective agency on behalf of a friend, she couldn’t very well say she didn’t think a crime had occurred in the first place—she couldn't admit she'd dumped a case with little criminal element on her, or worse, that she was merely using this as an excuse to have tea with Ms. Kyoko.
"We seem to think alike, Inspector Koshimai."
Hearing this out of the blue made her feel like the detective had sharply pointed out her guilty conscience. Think alike? In what way? Had she seen through the policewoman's one-sided sense of friendship?
If that were the case, it would be terribly embarrassing.
"In fact, I too do not think this is a crime motivated by noble money,"
Ms. Kyoko continued, while Koshimai felt a mixture of relief and—
So, setting aside whether it was noble or not, did Ms. Kyoko's opinion that it wasn’t a money-motivated crime mean she saw this request as a crime of a different nature?
While a detective might take on a missing person case, the inspector hadn’t expected her to find a criminal element in this 'disappearance.'
But perhaps this was to be expected.
Ms. Kyoko was not just any detective, she was a famed detective—one who seeks not only people but also the truth.
"Yes. I knew the truth of this case from the very beginning,"
said the fastest detective, delivering her catchphrase before adding, "By the way, would you like a refill of your tea, Inspector Koshimai? Perhaps some herbal tea for relaxation?"
She said this in an oddly leisurely manner.
"Ah! So, Inspector Koshimai, you were not aware of the real reason behind this man's disappearance when you asked for my help?"
With that, Ms. Kyoko returned the smartphone displaying the image to Inspector Koshimai with a flick.
"If that’s the case, it makes me a bit reluctant to share the truth."
"Reluctant...? What do you mean by that?"
For the fastest detective, her words were unusually roundabout. Come to think of it, offering herbal tea was strange too. Relaxation? Why would Inspector Koshimai need to relax. Yet, she accepted the tea.
"Please, Kyoko. Just tell me. Aren’t we on good terms?"
"A-As a great detective and a client, of course. If you don’t tell me the truth, I can’t pay the consultation fee."
She agreed, her willingness turning on a dime. It was almost suspicious how fast she had a change of heart. Should her first and second rules be reversed?
And what happened to being reluctant? Where did that disappear to—
"So, you already have a clue about where my friend's boyfriend might be? Without even leaving this room?"
Inspector Koshimai was about to be impressed by the thought, a true mark of a great detective it seemed—until Ms. Kyoko nonchalantly replied, "No, that's not it."
"I have no idea where your friend's boyfriend went—"
"—And I don't think this man is your friend's boyfriend in the first place."
"I don't think they were near engagement or even had any promises for the future."
"He…he's a complete stranger, then?"
What sense did this make? Did her friend enlist her childhood friend, now an inspector, to find a complete stranger?
"A complete stranger… it's hard to say that when she's taking photos like these."
"...Uh, so was it all a farce to brag to me about this 'handsome boyfriend'?"
Koshimai knew she was a braggart, but to go that far... Would she take a photo posted online and claim it's her boyfriend? No, that didn't explain why it wouldn't be a complete stranger. Also, Ms. Kyoko had said, "taking photos like these."
"Yes. No matter where this photo came from, there's something odd about it. You kept pointing that out, Inspector Koshimai."
Did she? The only thing she kept noting about this photo was—
"That the room is tiny? But even so..."
While the small room might be circumstantial evidence that he wasn't wealthy, it didn't prove he wasn’t her boyfriend—in fact, it seemed weirdly realistic to her.
If the wealth was a lie, but the boyfriend part was also a lie, could it be that the room itself was set up, rented for a day, complete with clothes and props?
But then, what about the spare key she had?
"This is the thing, Inspector Koshimai. The room isn't tiny; it's the sense of perspective that's distorted."
As baffled as she was, she started to see a glimmer of what Ms. Kyoko was getting at—this photo provided by her friend had some kind of trick to it.
Digital alteration? Retouching?
Although she retracted it later, Inspector Koshimai had indeed first claimed it was manipulated, which is why Ms. Kyoko probably thought she knew the truth—
"No, this isn't about tricks or post-processing. It's a common phenomenon in photography called the compression effect."
It sounded familiar, yet unfamiliar...
"The truth in a photograph can be distorted—this has been true long before digital cameras came onto the scene. When someone says a picture 'doesn't do them justice,' it’s not merely a reflection of self-consciousness."
Without any digital wizardly involved.
Ms. Kyoko stated plainly.
From the way she talked, it didn’t seem to require specialized knowledge after all. Basically, the reason the boyfriend's room ('boyfriend' being in quotes) looked tiny was because this lens compression pulled the background closer in the photo.
True, Koshimai has had moments herself looking at travel photos and thinking, "Did it really look like this?" It wasn't mere nostalgia playing tricks.
There was a physical distortion at work. You could trust your memory more.
But so what? If it was a common effect in photography, there was nothing strange about it happening in a snapshot of a 'boyfriend.'
"The compression effect becomes most obvious with telephoto lens."
She said. While adding a slight disclaimer of "it's not always the case," Ms. Kyoko emphasized the words "telephoto lens. Super-telephoto."
"You know what a telephoto lens is, right?"
"Don't underestimate me."
Way to belittle the one acting as her assistant.
Isn't it that bazooka-like thing?
"Yes. Simply put, the key to the compression effect is 'bringing distant light closer.' The farther away, the more pronounced the distortion."
"So, this photo... was taken from a very far distance?"
After saying not to underestimate her, Koshimai's question came out sounding like a fool’s, but that understanding was correct. The compression effect was strong enough to make the room look tight... now she understood.
Certainly, it was strange.
Who on earth would take a photo of their boyfriend enjoying homemade food from hundreds of meters away? That's just spying.
Capturing a scene of the 'boyfriend' delighting in a dish—a snapshot of such a daily scene—did she take it through a window that was completely open along with the curtains? Was that why the window wasn't in the picture? Since he was eating somen noodles, it could be inferred that it was summer from his fashion too.
"Rather than spying, if indeed someone had a spare key, that would constitute—how should I phrase it—the act itself."
The vagueness didn’t seem like something a great detective would say, but it was typical of Ms. Kyoko—Inspector Koshimai loved that about the forgetful detective the most.
Even if she didn't distort the truth.
She gently rephrased the truth.
But as a police officer and as a friend, Inspector Koshimai needed to be direct.
"It's stalking behavior, plain and simple... sigh."
Saying it made her feel depressed.
It was quite a shock to find out that an old friend of hers had become a stalker. The policewoman had thought of her as boastful and troublesome, but never imagined something like this—her not being just an idiot, but an actual criminal. It wasn’t that she couldn’t believe it, but rather she didn’t want to believe it, and the stronger that feeling, the more it surfaced.
"If you want to confirm, you should investigate. Even for someone spying, this sense of perspective looks excessively telephoto—perhaps she couldn't get close to the 'boyfriend' for a reason.'"
"A restraining order, maybe?"
If the stalker went as far as making a spare key without permission, legal actions might already be in place. It’s something a cop could quickly find out, even if investigating friends usually isn’t the norm. But it falls within the realm where police power can be freely used, a criminal case, not a civil one.
Strangely, Koshimai didn't feel betrayed.
Rather, she was surprised that her friend had trusted her that much—perhaps it was true friendship.
"So, it's reasonable to deduce that he went missing to escape from a stalker who couldn't be stopped even by a restraining order. To protect himself, to protect his real girlfriend… what do you think, Inspector Koshimai? Should I still look into this man's whereabouts?"
'I'll waive the cancellation fee for the lesson', Ms. Kyoko said, placing a refill of herbal tea before Inspector Koshimai.
Yeah, she could use some relaxation.
The lesson was on the inspector's end: about the challenges of friendship and complexities in relationships. More challenging teachings would follow from Koshimai to her friend. It will be a tough education for both the giver and the receiver.
(But maybe this is a case of birds of a feather flock together…)
Her frequent visits to the Okitegami Detective Agency might not be something to be proud of. Her boss aside, anyone would likely view her actions with disdain, considering them a form of well-meaning disregard for the other party’s wishes. It was nearly the same as her friend going the extra mile trying to mobilize the police to find the whereabouts of her stalking target.
No, it wasn't even a matter of one extra mile or two.
Bad news travels fast, and even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
And it was always just a single step which made one cross the line, which goes for both the starting line and the finish line.
Original by Nisioisin
Translation by @waifutime
Editing by me
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