"[I]It was a bleak day, the kind of day where storm clouds hang over your head and mix together with an air of unease and boredom so thick that the downpour comes as a relief. As usual the office reeked like old cigarette smoke, the only thing distracting me from the fact that I'm once again flat broke and worse yet, running criminally low on candy..."[/i]

Nine year old Iwajima Jun lay sprawled on the floor with his child-sized 'detective' trenchcoat spread out under him, staring at the slowly spinning ceiling fan as he launched into another one of his patented 'hardboiled monologues'. He was incredibly easy to overlook from that position, especially given the fact that sheer boredom had reduced him to an uncharacteristically near-catatonic state and he had previously been partially buried under some old papers and bills.

"[i]The few of my employees gathered here are probably as strapped for cash as I am, and even my own boss, cruel woman that she is, cut me off from the only precious, sugary thing that keeps me sane in this cockamamie town with some excuse about funds. So here I am, a washed-up P.I. three days into a sugar-crash with no money, no cases and no respect." [/i]

Jun was half-aware of the conversation going on above the level of the floor, but he was too caught up in entertaining himself with his narration to really notice. Besides, he had trouble maintaining interest in books considering the only ones he'd read before coming to live at Fu Sonzai were either instructional texts on onmyoudo or stories profiling various youkai. Now TV, that was great entertainment. Unfortunately, Toshiko's old TV barely worked when magic wasn't being used to make it function, and she set strict rationing on the amount of time he was allowed to watch regardless. He also occasionally wondered why Akemi bothered to dress like a maid, but chalked it down to the same reasons he dressed like a detective.

"Will someone [b]please[/b] tell me we have a new case already?"