However, Tanizaki felt he was mediocre at his job, held mediocre principles, and had a mediocre sense of justice, which made him a mediocre human being. He didn’t have the courage to talk back to or stand up to Dazai. Put simply, he was incredibly passive.
Tanizaki said he was just your average guy, and he was fine with that. Besides, as the second-to-last ranking agent, what else is there to do besides follow whatever duties a senior employee gives me? Tanizaki thought as he folded the slips of paper.
“I’m done,” he announced.
All the clamoring about the entrance examination suddenly stopped as everyone turned around at the sound of his voice. Lined up before Tanizaki were twenty slips of paper with the numbers “1” to “40” written inside. One might wonder why there were twenty slips of paper and not forty—and that was because the articles were printed on both sides of the paper. Therefore, the number “2” would be printed on the back of page one; the numbers “1” and “2” came as a set, as did “3” and “4.” And just like that, it was the very same up until “39” and “40,” hence why there were only twenty slips of paper.
Tanizaki stacked the papers together before carefully sliding them into the envelope. “Okay, guys. What order do you want to draw the slips of paper in?”
Kunikida crossed his arms and spoke up. “Tanizaki, you made the lots, so it would be logical if you went last.”
“What about me?” Dazai asked while pointing to himself.
“You…might come up with a filthy scheme if we give you too much time to think. You go first.”
“You don’t trust me at all!” lamented Dazai as he drew a slip of paper from the envelope.
“Don’t open it yet.”
“Why?”
“Because we haven’t decided on the roles. It wouldn’t be fair to confirm who lost right off the bat, yes?”
Kunikida spoke with confidence, not even giving a hint that this was all part of his plan.
“That makes sense. I guess we should all open them together at the end.” Dazai gripped the slip of paper in his hand. “More importantly, Kunikida, I just had the perfect idea for the entrance exam.” He still had the slip held tight.
“And what’s that?” Kunikida swiped the envelope out of Dazai’s hands, then mixed up the contents before drawing a slip for himself.
“Well, you know that bomb I just happened to receive? I brought it with me.”
Dazai pointed at the paper bag with the fake bomb he’d showed them at the café. Some woman had apparently sent it to the pub for him as a gift, but it almost escalated into a bomb scare.
“It’d be a waste if we didn’t use it.”
“You want to use a bomb?” Kunikida craned his neck. Yosano observed their exchange out of the corner of her eye and drew a slip of paper as well.
“Of course. A bomber will suddenly appear at the detective agency, barricading themselves inside while taking a civilian hostage. We would be able to see how the rookie handles such a risky situation. Obviously, the president will make the final call, but if he can disarm the bomb or persuade the bomber to give up, then the kid passes. What do you say? Sounds like a very detectivelike case if you ask me.”
Kenji drew a slip of paper from the envelope. Usually, Ranpo would go next, but he wasn’t going to be there on the day of the test, so he was relieved from this responsibility. The last person to draw from the envelope…was Tanizaki.
“Here you go, dear brother.” Naomi held out the envelope to him.
Everything was going according to plan so far. It was smooth sailing from here on out. A simple drawing was all that was left.
“So whoever draws the smallest number…plays the bomber,” said Tanizaki.
“Right you are,” Dazai casually replied.
Tanizaki sneaked a look at Kunikida, who subtly nodded back at him so faintly it could hardly even be seen. Tanizaki was already in this deep, so he felt he might as well let it play out until the end. He drew a slip of paper.
Kunikida’s scheme was extremely simple.
Fake slips of paper.
The pile Dazai drew from was not the same as the one everyone else drew from.
Of course, this was only possible because they had prepared multiple copies of the old newspaper and tinkered with the envelope. As one might expect from someone who had worked with Dazai for so long, Kunikida was able to predict that the roles for the entrance exam would inevitably be decided through drawing lots and that the point of compromise would be using an old newspaper to make the slips of paper to prevent cheating.
If they were unable to use the old newspaper or envelope, Kunikida had claimed, then that was that. His skill, The Matchless Poet, and Tanizaki’s Light Snow would be powerless before Dazai’s No Longer Human, since it could nullify any skill simply by Dazai touching them. Their only choice would be to prepare for the worst and pray to the god of chance to make the right decision.
But everything went well this time. Just as planned, Dazai drew from the dummy pile.
First, Tanizaki’s job was to get eleven old newspapers the day before, then make numerous folded slips of paper with the same page number and dates. Which is why yesterday, he asked an acquaintance who recycled old newspapers to bring him multiple copies of an old paper with the same date. He used these newspapers to create slips of paper with numbered pairs starting from “1” and “2” all the way to “39” and “40” (page numbers were printed on both sides of the paper as mentioned above, so each slip of paper had one number on each side of it).
Next, his job was to collect all pairs of “1” and “2,” along with pairs of “3” and “4,” before putting them into a small envelope. It was ten newspapers’ worth of “1 & 2” pairs and “3 & 4” pairs, thus coming to a total of twenty strips of folded paper. In short, this was a fake pile of lots, twenty strips of paper, to replace the original pile of everything from pairs “1 & 2” to pairs “39 & 40.”
The plan was to force Dazai to draw from this pile, giving him only the chance to get a number from “1” to “4.” Whoever got the smallest number would lose, which meant Dazai’s loss had already been decided. In other words, he was going to get the role of the bomber. After that, Tanizaki would only have to switch piles again before everyone else drew a lot. There were nineteen slips of paper in the other pile, which started from the pair “5 & 6” and went all the way to “39 & 40.” Any number would end up being higher than what Dazai drew.
The piles needed to be switched out only twice. As long as that was done, then the rest of the scheme was extremely simple and extremely hard to discover—cheating with a high chance of success. That was why meticulous training was necessary for switching out the piles. That was where Naomi and Kunikida would come in. In the conference room, Tanizaki would pretend to mix the pile of twenty strips of paper, but he’d actually switch them out with the “1 & 2” and “3 & 4” pairs. After Dazai drew a slip, Kunikida would then switch out the pile to the “5 & 6” through “39 & 40” pairs when he had his turn.
Nonetheless, the envelope itself was prepared with a false bottom before the meeting, so switching out the pile itself wouldn’t be that difficult.
It was a rather simple mechanism. The false bottom with the fake pile had a string attached that would just need to be pulled to switch the piles. This was Kunikida’s ultimate weapon against Dazai that he had been laboriously preparing for well in advance.
All the traps had now been set.
Each detective—Dazai, Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, and Tanizaki—was holding a slip of paper. Whoever had the smallest number got shouldered with the most burdensome work, which in this case would be the role of the bomber.
Tanizaki recalled the entire course of events. So far, everything had gone according to plan. Nevertheless, they were up against Dazai—a man who had been playing people, friend or foe, like a fiddle ever since he joined the agency. He was clever, and his behavior always made his intentions unclear as he led those around him into
confusion and panic. His past was almost a complete mystery, and before anyone even realized it, everything was going down the path he laid. He was like a certain folkloric trickster.
Would such a trick work on Dazai?
“Okay, we’ll start with me.”
Dazai unfolded the old newspaper scrap.
“3 & 4”
“Huh…”
Dazai frowned.
It worked. Tanizaki caught himself before those words slipped off his tongue.
“Looks like you’re finally getting what you deserve,” Kunikida said to Dazai.
Despite being dragged into this scheme, even the self-proclaimed “average guy” Tanizaki felt good seeing the plan go so perfectly. Dazai often led Tanizaki around by the nose and pushed his responsibility onto him, albeit not to the degree that he did with Kunikida. While saying this was revenge would be an exaggeration, it still did feel good to think of this as a little payback.
Next, Kunikida unfolded his slip of paper: “7 & 8”
The mechanism he created to switch piles was working like it should. In other words, the second switch was successfully carried out before Kunikida drew his numbers. Kunikida waved his paper in the air while boasting.
“I beat you, Dazai! This alone has already brought me all the satisfaction I need.”
“Darn, I was really looking forward to seeing you cry while holding a bomb and acting like a madman…,” Dazai muttered in abject disappointment.
Yosano then opened her slip of paper: “27 & 28”
Next up was Kenji: “33 & 34”
Kenji, the youngest detective and most recent hire, had the best luck out of everyone. From Tanizaki’s point of view, while Kenji was the only agent younger than him, not once did he ever honestly believe he could beat him. Tanizaki was the only one left who hadn’t unfolded his slip of paper yet.
“Let me tell you a little something before you open that, Tanizaki,” Dazai abruptly commented.
“Yes?”
“At this rate, there’s no doubt I’m going to end up with the lowest number. Perhaps this is payment for my wild lifestyle. So I’ve accepted my fate and will come up with a story for a man who has lost hope in humanity and excitedly dreams of blowing himself up while taking everyone with him. But first…I need a favor.”
“A favor?” Tanizaki curiously tilted his head to the side.
“When you think of bombers, you think of people barricading themselves in buildings, and when they do that, they always have a hostage. If possible, I’d really like someone sweet and passive for that role—someone whose appearance screams hostage. I thought I might ask your sister to play the part. Would that be all right with you?”
Tanizaki looked at Naomi to his side. Neither startled nor puzzled, she placed a hand on her cheek.
“I would love to, if you don’t mind,” Naomi replied while staring at her brother for some reason. Tanizaki had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, but he nonetheless gave a noncommittal “I mean…as long as Naomi’s fine with it” and nodded.
“I’m glad you’re on board. Now, go ahead, Tanizaki. Unfold your paper. Your glorious numbers await you,” said Dazai.
The faintest of smiles played on his face.
Kunikida stood up almost simultaneously, knocking over his chair.
“Impossible,” he muttered. “Tanizaki, open it!”
At Kunikida’s pale-faced urging, Tanizaki unfolded his slip of paper in a panic.
“1 & 2”
“Wha—?”
“Oh, what do we have here? What are the odds?” Dazai grinned. “It appears the god of drawing lots is a mischievous one. I can’t believe you drew a number even smaller than mine, Tanizaki. You have the worst luck.”
Flustered, Tanizaki checked the date on the slip of paper. It was from two months ago, the same as all the other ones. This was without a doubt the same as the others Tanizaki had prepared. The way it was cut out was no different from how Tanizaki had cut out the others, either. This was clearly made from one of the eleven newspapers. But that couldn’t be possible. There were only two piles. One contained twenty slips of the numbers “1” through “4,” and the other contained nineteen slips of the numbers “5” through “40.” Kunikida, Yosano, and Kenji most certainly drew from the latter with the bigger numbers, as did Tanizaki. There was no moment that the piles could have been switched out again. So how did Tanizaki get a slip with the number “1” on it?
Tanizaki instinctively looked over to see Dazai’s reaction—a faint smirking. It was as if that smile could peer right into Tanizaki’s heart—as if Dazai knew that Tanizaki knew that he knew.
“This is—”
Impossible. But Tanizaki couldn’t say that. After all, the numbers were drawn at random. The only reason a person might make such a claim would be because they cheated.
But who leaked the information? There was no way Kunikida would do something like that. Nor would Tanizaki himself. Which left them with—!
Startled, Tanizaki looked over at Naomi, who gazed back at him teary-eyed.
“I just…”
Tanizaki could see the hearts pulsating in his sister’s eyes. She covered her slightly crimson cheeks with her long, delicate fingers, then said, “I just wanted…to be your hostage so you could tie me up and threaten me, my dear, sweet brother…”
Night fell upon the agency. The meeting had finally come to an end, in all respects. Everyone left the room, each giving their impressions, then went back home. Although still utterly confused, Tanizaki ended up being assigned the role of the bomber for tomorrow’s entrance exam, and his sister, Naomi, was going to play the hostage. Nevertheless, Tanizaki did not have to do this alone. Both Dazai and Kunikida—who respectively pulled “3” and “7,” the next smallest numbers—would be assisting him. Specifically, they were going to call over the rookie to have him run into the bomber and solve the case.
“Good work today, Tanizaki.” Yosano smiled faintly and patted Tanizaki on the shoulder on her way out. “I had a great time.”
“Good luck tomorrow!” Kenji cheerfully waved good-bye. “I really hope the new guy passes the test!”
Ranpo had already left the building before anyone noticed. On his desk sat a bag of cheap sweets, a cookie cutter, a meat bun wrapper, and some scribblings of the office floor detailing the best places for a bomber to barricade themselves. This must have been Ranpo’s way of cheering him on, but Tanizaki just woefully stared at it…because this much detail meant Ranpo must’ve started on the sketch before they’d even drawn lots.
Tanizaki pondered Ranpo’s business trip the next day. He must have predicted that would be when the entrance exam took place, so he arranged it so he could be gone in order to avoid the hassle—as one would expect from the possessor of Super Deduction, which could see all truths.
Most frightening, though, was the fact that Ranpo actually wasn’t a skill user. He truly believed he was, but he merely possessed godlike powers of observation and deduction, which he subconsciously used. But the truth as to why and how Ranpo believed this was a mystery to all those at the agency.
“This is bullshit!” Kunikida yelled out in the pub.
“Come on, Kunikida… It’s okay…,” Tanizaki feebly pleaded.
They were at a pub not too far from the detective agency, one that stayed open late. Orange light radiated from the hanging lanterns as red-faced customers clamored like the roaring sea. On the family altar near the ceiling was a small daruma doll on display.
Kunikida and Tanizaki walked through the pub’s curtain to have a review meeting and a reward for their hard work. In other words, a celebration half fueled by despair.
“Man, that was fun, huh?”
Dazai smiled while sampling his sake. He was tagging along for who knows why. Tanizaki, who was still underage, sipped on his soda. “But seriously, I just can’t believe you found us out…”
“Heh. I’ve been scheming since you were in diapers,” Dazai said with
a chuckle, then tilted his sake cup. “But the reason you failed this time was because of Kunikida’s mistake. Dragging his junior into this—especially when that junior was you—was too obvious. It made too much sense. A plan like that’s best done solo.”
Kunikida glared at Dazai, pouting. “When you’re right, you’re right,” he muttered.
“But, Dazai, how did you do it? If you’d pulled a big number, then I’d get it, but how did you make me draw a one?”
Tanizaki drew from the pile of his own free will. The only way to make him draw a “1,” you would need to make the last fifty slips of paper all “1”s. While he did convince Naomi to join his side, he still clearly didn’t have any time to switch out the slips of paper after Kenji drew a “33” right before Tanizaki’s turn.
“A true magician never reveals his secrets.” Dazai mischievously placed a finger to his lips. “I recommend figuring it out for yourself before you even try deceiving me again.”
“I’ve been scheming since you were in diapers.”
Dazai hadn’t been exaggerating. Kunikida then lowered his head to Tanizaki apologetically.
“Sorry, Tanizaki.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Tanizaki smiled. “It was a good experience.”
That was the truth. He had made it this far in life because he was easily swayed by others. He went along with Kunikida’s scheme because he was asked to, and he was going to play the bomber because that was the role shoved onto him. Despite having a slightly bizarre skill, he wasn’t great in combat like the other agents, nor was he especially cunning. Tanizaki didn’t have any mortal enemies, nor did he have a dark past or any trauma. He was an ordinary guy. The only thing he really even wished for was his little sister’s happiness.
Even then, he didn’t care where the tide took him as long as he was in the detective agency. Therefore, he even planned on having fun with the bomber’s role that was pushed onto him. Fortunately, nobody had ever rebuked him for being weak-willed.
The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency Page 5
