The Beautiful Kuudere Woman Who Always Reads Books While Standing Next to Me at the Laundromat Turns Out to Be the Vice President of One of Our Clients
As usual, I stuffed a week’s worth of laundry into my bag and opened the door to the coin laundry. Tsukishima san was already there, reading a paperback book.
“Good work, Tsukishima san.”
“Hm. Good work, Minato san…your eyebrows look in good condition today.”
As soon as she saw my face, she gave a sly smile.
“…Thanks to you. I can’t even tell which ones are real and which ones are drawn anymore.”
“Right? They’re my masterpiece.”
It felt so comfortable to be able to banter like that with her now.
I sorted through the laundry and picked up a shirt, sighing. There was a small brown stain on the cuff. I had no memory of when it had gotten there.
“Ah…I did it again….”
As I rubbed the stain with my finger, I noticed Tsukishima san’s eyes sparkle from beside me.
“…Minato san.”
“Hm?”
“This…smells like a crime scene.”
Tsukishima san closed the novel she was reading and stood next to me with a serious expression, as if she were a detective arriving at a crime scene.
“Eh? No…..it’s just a stain.”
“You’re too naive, Minato san. It’s not just a stain. This is important log data recording the actions of the past week. And it’s the only piece of evidence that tells the story of what happened in the past…and we have a duty to analyze this evidence and uncover the truth.”
It seemed like her love for mysteries was starting to stir. I found her childlike excitement amusing and endearing, so I decided to go along with this little ‘police game.’
“…..I understand, Detective Tsukishima. Please proceed with the forensic examination.”
When I handed her the shirt in a theatrical tone, she solemnly accepted it with a “Very well.”
First, she began holding the cuff of the shirt up to the fluorescent light in the coin laundry multiple times.
“First stage: scene examination. The stain is a yellowish-reddish-brown color. The shape is an irregular splash mark. This suggests that a liquid substance adhered to the shirt at a certain speed.”
“I see…”
“Second stage, situation analysis. The stain is on the right cuff. Minato is right-handed. …Therefore, it is highly likely that the crime, or rather, the incident occurred while Minato was eating or drinking something with her right hand.”
I listened to her reasoning, imagining myself as either the suspect or the victim.
“…However, with this information alone, we cannot yet identify the perpetrator. Let’s move on to the final stage.”
With that, Tsukishima san took an unexpected action.
Without hesitation, she slowly brought the cuff of my shirt up to her face.
“Wait, Tsukishima san !? I haven’t washed it yet !?”
Before I could stop her, she brought her small nose close to the stained area, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She then crumpled the shirt in her arms, sniffing the scent of the entire garment.
That utterly defenseless, even sensual gesture made my heart leap wildly. For someone else, especially someone who had worn my shirt all day, to sniff it so intently…
I could only stare at her long eyelashes, which were trembling slightly.
Eventually, she slowly raised her face. Her large eyes seemed to be glazed over.
“…There’s no particular scent that stands out. It’s not soy sauce or coffee…”
She said that, furrowing her brows slightly in disappointment. Then she continued.
“…However…”
She looked straight into my eyes and said.
“…I can smell Minato san’s scent.”
It was more of a straightforward confession than a forensic report.
I could feel my face flush at her blunt words.
“Oh, right…that’s because it’s my shirt…”
When I gave a meaningless reply, she chuckled mischievously.
“…Well. All the evidence is in. Now, I’ll present my final deduction.”
She cleared her throat once, then pointed at me sharply, like a detective.
“The culprit behind this stain is…the chili oil from the mapo tofu you ate at lunch on Tuesday. It was a single drop that flew off when you dropped the tofu from the spoon ! What do you think, Minato kun?”
I could only stare in amazement at her perfect deduction. Now that she mentioned it, I did go to a Chinese restaurant with my boss on Tuesday and eat a mapo tofu set meal.
“…That’s amazing, Tsukishima san. How did you…”
“Hmph. I didn’t miss the log where Minato san complained during Wednesday’s regular meeting, ‘Lately, when I eat spicy food, my stomach feels off the next day…’ All the logs are connected, Minato san.”
Tsukishima san said that with satisfaction, proudly puffing out her chest.
“…I give up.”
There’s nothing I can do about it now, and there’s nothing at this point, but if we were to date in the future, cheating would definitely be discovered, I tell myself.
The incident was resolved, and I threw my shirt into the washing machine. The evidence will soon be washed away cleanly.
Watching Tsukishima san beside me, who looked somehow proud, I thought to myself.
Perhaps she, by keeping track of even the smallest details, understands me better than I understand myself.
“…But you know.”
I said to her with a mix of gratitude and a touch of teasing.
“You said you could smell my scent earlier…what kind of scent was it?”
At my question, Tsukishima san looked puzzled for a moment, then her face turned bright red up to her neck.
“….! I-I don’t know ! It’s not any kind of scent ! It’s just a report of observational results !”
Saying that, she turned away huffing.
Maigetsu