Every footfall echoes loudly with each step I take. The cramped staircase contributes to that. At the top of the flight of steps there lies a door. Just an ordinary smoked glass door one would find in any ordinary office. To the right there is a doorbell stuck onto the wall. As if it's beckoning to me to press it, I press it.

An electronic buzz is heard beyond the door. Then silence. I wait. Then, a metallic clink is heard. The magnetic locking mechanism in the door gives way and now the door is free for me to push. I push it open.

An office room. Just a normal office room. Not quite. Shelves take up most of the place with books and papers piled onto them. Almost a paradox; the shelves with the very purpose of organizing objects has items messily placed onto them. To the left from the entrance there lies a television standing on a short corner table playing the news. And directly in front of me is the purpose I am here.

Sento Yuka sits behind a wide table with papers strewn all over its surface. A mug of coffee sits atop some of the papers, steam blowing out of its circular cavity. Her right hand is lightly holding the mug's handle, suggesting that she just put it down after a sip. Her left index finger hovers above a button, probably the one she just pressed to let me in.

Unlike yesterday, she wears a buttoned black shirt with long sleeves. Her overall appearance is attractive, her facial features as clean as I can remember, her braided hair lying over her shoulder and flowing down along her body, the luscious curves of her bust well visible compared to when she wore the sweater the day before which diminished it due to its looseness.

I shake my head, shunning the thoughts my adolescent mind conjured up. How unsightly of me to think of such things.

"Finally, you're here." her voice clears my mind and reminds me of my objective.

She looks at me with her head slightly tilted, resting on her left hand and her elbox on the table. Her face looks kind and cheerful.

"You were expecting me?" I end up saying out.

"Well, when I give someone my card, I can't help but wish him or her to come."

Just like how I can't help but go to the place listed when I'm given a card, I think to myself.

"Please, have a seat." she says as she motions her hand, inviting me to sit down on the chairs in front of her desk, facing her. I oblige unthinkingly.

"I am sorry but out of professionalism, I have to conform to the regular customaries when dealing with clients." she says. "Please state your name."

All with a smile on her face. Now her chin rests on her fingers that are interlocked. Her eyes are bright and stare right into me, yet it does not feel intruding.

"Tatetsu Fubaki." I answer. "A second-year student in Kirisawa High School who lives alone in an apartment."

"I did not even request for the second sentence." she responds with a giggle.

"You'd ask for it eventually anyways."

"Not necessarily. You speak as if you know how we work. To clarify, not everything shown on television is accurate."

"I don't even watch television on a regular basis."

"Except for the news of course. But not at home, you watch it in school during lunchtime."

I am stunned. It's not a major point but how'd she know?

"You are surprised? Of course you are, your face shows it." she smiles. "You already showed that you were aware of how the suicide victim was found by not showing surprise when I mentioned it yesterday. Which points to you following the news. You state that you do not watch television regularly, which means that you do not own a television at home, which adds up since you live alone. The news on Friday reported on the case at noon, a time which you would be in school, which suggests that you watch the news during lunch break."

I am stunned. I am baffled. Both. It's ridiculous; how does someone calculate all that from such vague points and manage to be accurate? Her smile widens, pleased at my reaction I show at my face with my eyes enlarged.

"And apparently I am correct."

"Yes, quite." I unthinkingly add the 'quite' due to my inability to accept her victory. "But how does not watching television regularly add up to me living alone?"

"Ah, that is simple. Since you live alone, if you had a television, it would not add up if you didn't watch it often, seeing that you are not bound by the disciplines which a family's household demands."

I see her point. But still, it's all so vague that I'm sure she got it all right by sheer luck.

"Well, I too am surprised at my accuracy. Since humans are so inconsistent, it is not easy to read them and have everything completely correct. Seems that I am lucky this time." she says, smiling.

I was right.

"Do forgive me for suddenly seemingly intruding into your private life. In my field of work, one has to be analytical, though I blurted it all out since you asked for it with that surprised face of yours." she continues with a tinge of cheekiness in her tone.

* * *

The water feels cool on my face. Almost as if it draws away my worries and thoughts along with the heat. But that period of serenity only lasts for a moment as I reopen my eyes after washing my face. I see my reflection in the mirror. Indeed, I look terrible. Not like I looked good in the first place.

Just a normal face with a normal hairstyle. The most normal person you could see. Yet, why did such an abnormal incident have to occur to me?

I exit the toilet after refreshing myself and take back my seat at the table facing Yuka.

"Now please, recollect as best as you can."

Yuka requested me to tell her my whole involvement in this incident so I went to wash my face to prepare myself. In the end, I still feel queasy about the whole thing. Nevertheless, I have to try. I heave a heavy sigh and talk.