the rumors suggest, Masaomi Kida.”
“Huh?” he gaped stupidly.
How did she know his name? It was the girl in the center of the opposing group. She had a bright smile and lightly dyed a lock of her boyish short hair, a look that made her rather visually similar to him. He blinked in surprise.
“What? How do you know my name? Are you psychic? Like Psychic Itou? If you keep reading people’s minds, I’m gonna have to stuff you into a bag and take you home with me!” he teased, referencing a popular TV comedian to hide his consternation about being recognized.
Masaomi’s fellow Yellow Scarves looked among themselves, unsure of how they should react, while the girls giggled at Masaomi’s joke. The one in the center gleefully responded, “Oh my God, you’re being so weird! You’re so funny, Kida!”
After a bout of laughter, she gently shook her head. “But I’m not a psychic. The real psychic is someone else.”
“Oh? Who’s that? Does one of these girls around here speak to ghosts?” Masaomi asked, looking at the others with a gentle smile of his own. Some of the girls were already speaking to other members of the Yellow Scarves, and only the three clustered around the short-haired girl were facing him directly.
“Let me guess, she asked the ghosts of my ancestors just what a cool guy I am, right? Or is it one of the sort that hangs out behind my back? Or a paralysis ghost, or a floating ghost, or what have you. Whatever kind of ghost it is, I’m sure it’ll be reborn under the most awesome conditions in the future. Maybe as the child of you and me?” he joked bawdily, testing her reaction. Though her hair was dyed, she and theother girls seemed fairly straightforward, not trashy. He was testing their reactions to see if they would get along with his style.
“Now you’re just being silly. Let me guess, do you already have a name picked out?”
“Well, we’d need to take a look at the characters in the parents’ names, right? So what’s your name?”
The girl played along well, not missing a beat.
“Saki Mikajima. Mikajima is spelled with
three
, a small
ke
, and
island
. And Saki is a shortened form of the Stewartia tree.”
“Stewartia? So in flower language, your name means like, ‘Seize your chance before it wilts away’?”
“Oh, wow! You know what it is? I figured you would ask, ‘What’s that?’” she said, surprised.
Masaomi grinned, feeling his engine kicking in. “Sure, I know everything. I just ask the ghost hanging out over my back.” He wasn’t sure if that one was a little too corny.
Saki said, “Exactly.”
“Huh?”
“The person standing behind you is kind of psychic, in a way. He’s very special. He knows everything.”
“Huh?”
Before Masaomi could turn around in shock, a hand fell on his shoulder.
“Whah?”
Masaomi spun on his heels and saw an unfamiliar man standing there.
“Hi, nice to meet you. It’s, um…Masaomi Kida, right?” the man said, smiling amiably.
When he looked at the man’s face, a single emotion rose in Masaomi’s chest: vague anxiety. The same sensation he’d felt when people started to rally around him.
Masaomi felt his entire body wrapped in an odd prickling alienation that he couldn’t quite describe.
“…And you are?” he asked suspiciously.
The older man held out his hand and beamed. “I’m Izaya Orihara. Information is my business.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The boy recalled the impishly innocent yet cunning and crafty smile of Izaya and clicked his tongue in irritation. “There, see? I just remembered some shit I didn’t want to think about. Enough of the depressing talk!”
He crossed his legs in front of him and changed the topic. “Oh, right, this is depressing, too. So what was the deal? Who beat up this Horada guy last night?”
“I told you… Um, the Black Rider. I mean, technically it was the guy the rider was with who did Mr. Horada.”
“…Wasn’t Higa telling me the exact same
“Huh?” he gaped stupidly.
How did she know his name? It was the girl in the center of the opposing group. She had a bright smile and lightly dyed a lock of her boyish short hair, a look that made her rather visually similar to him. He blinked in surprise.
“What? How do you know my name? Are you psychic? Like Psychic Itou? If you keep reading people’s minds, I’m gonna have to stuff you into a bag and take you home with me!” he teased, referencing a popular TV comedian to hide his consternation about being recognized.
Masaomi’s fellow Yellow Scarves looked among themselves, unsure of how they should react, while the girls giggled at Masaomi’s joke. The one in the center gleefully responded, “Oh my God, you’re being so weird! You’re so funny, Kida!”
After a bout of laughter, she gently shook her head. “But I’m not a psychic. The real psychic is someone else.”
“Oh? Who’s that? Does one of these girls around here speak to ghosts?” Masaomi asked, looking at the others with a gentle smile of his own. Some of the girls were already speaking to other members of the Yellow Scarves, and only the three clustered around the short-haired girl were facing him directly.
“Let me guess, she asked the ghosts of my ancestors just what a cool guy I am, right? Or is it one of the sort that hangs out behind my back? Or a paralysis ghost, or a floating ghost, or what have you. Whatever kind of ghost it is, I’m sure it’ll be reborn under the most awesome conditions in the future. Maybe as the child of you and me?” he joked bawdily, testing her reaction. Though her hair was dyed, she and theother girls seemed fairly straightforward, not trashy. He was testing their reactions to see if they would get along with his style.
“Now you’re just being silly. Let me guess, do you already have a name picked out?”
“Well, we’d need to take a look at the characters in the parents’ names, right? So what’s your name?”
The girl played along well, not missing a beat.
“Saki Mikajima. Mikajima is spelled with
three
, a small
ke
, and
island
. And Saki is a shortened form of the Stewartia tree.”
“Stewartia? So in flower language, your name means like, ‘Seize your chance before it wilts away’?”
“Oh, wow! You know what it is? I figured you would ask, ‘What’s that?’” she said, surprised.
Masaomi grinned, feeling his engine kicking in. “Sure, I know everything. I just ask the ghost hanging out over my back.” He wasn’t sure if that one was a little too corny.
Saki said, “Exactly.”
“Huh?”
“The person standing behind you is kind of psychic, in a way. He’s very special. He knows everything.”
“Huh?”
Before Masaomi could turn around in shock, a hand fell on his shoulder.
“Whah?”
Masaomi spun on his heels and saw an unfamiliar man standing there.
“Hi, nice to meet you. It’s, um…Masaomi Kida, right?” the man said, smiling amiably.
When he looked at the man’s face, a single emotion rose in Masaomi’s chest: vague anxiety. The same sensation he’d felt when people started to rally around him.
Masaomi felt his entire body wrapped in an odd prickling alienation that he couldn’t quite describe.
“…And you are?” he asked suspiciously.
The older man held out his hand and beamed. “I’m Izaya Orihara. Information is my business.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The boy recalled the impishly innocent yet cunning and crafty smile of Izaya and clicked his tongue in irritation. “There, see? I just remembered some shit I didn’t want to think about. Enough of the depressing talk!”
He crossed his legs in front of him and changed the topic. “Oh, right, this is depressing, too. So what was the deal? Who beat up this Horada guy last night?”
“I told you… Um, the Black Rider. I mean, technically it was the guy the rider was with who did Mr. Horada.”
“…Wasn’t Higa telling me the exact same
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