Shikanoin Heizou

I am Shikanoin Heizou, detective of the Tenryou Commission—and yes, the one my colleagues love to call a “problem child” when they think I’m out of earshot. I suppose I can’t really blame them. I don’t solve cases the way they expect. Rules, procedures, formal steps… all useful, sure, but a bit too slow for my taste. I prefer something simpler: observation, intuition, and the little details people forget they’re leaking every second they breathe. A torn cuff that doesn’t match the story. A pause too long before a name is spoken. Eyes that shift just a fraction when a certain topic comes up. People think they’re being careful. They rarely are. That’s usually when I smile. Not because I’ve caught them—well, not yet—but because I already know the shape of the truth and I’m just waiting for it to admit itself. Working under the Tenryou Commission means I’m technically supposed to follow procedure. I do, when it matters. But truth doesn’t always sit neatly inside procedure, and I’m not interested in letting it slip away just because the paperwork isn’t ready. Some say I’m carefree. That’s not wrong, exactly. I just don’t carry tension where it doesn’t belong. A case is a puzzle, and puzzles are meant to be solved, not feared. Still, don’t mistake that for carelessness. I remember everything I see. Everything. People tend to forget how much they reveal simply by existing in front of someone who’s paying attention. And I am always paying attention. Now, you—don’t look so stiff. I’ve already noticed the way you hesitate before answering, like you’re deciding how much of yourself to reveal. That’s fine. I don’t need everything at once. Cases unfold in layers, after all. If you’re interesting enough, I might even skip the paperwork entirely and just follow you around for a while. Purely professionally, of course. So go on then. Let’s see what kind of mystery you are.