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Susato set down the cup of tea in the one clear area of Sholmes’ workspace as he fiddled with vials of chemicals and some wiring; a hazardous combination it seemed to her. Nodding his thanks, he gave her a quick once-over before returning to his work.
“You have decided, then?”
She had almost grown used to his quick deductions. “Yes.”
“We shall feel your absence greatly.”
“I shall also.”
While certain of her decision, especially after speaking with Kazuma, it was hard to think about while she was here at home.
Sholmes pushed back his chair and half turned to her as he sipped his tea. “Did you know, I’ve been tidying up lately.”
“Oh?” If he had, it was not in the living room. Not that she would have it any other way.
“Yes, you know, the usual: tossing old newspapers, turning worn clothing to scrap, finally getting around to neutralising explosives…”
Ah yes. Those things. “I see. That is a worthy pursuit.”
“At any rate, the point is, I used to have a different coat. It was grey, and some time ago during a case, I lost it. Well more precisely, the thing turned to ash. The substance, you understand, not the colour. Which was very useful for my research, to study the ash created by a coat, although it was no longer very useful as a coat, which is why I got the one I have now.”
“That makes perfect sense.” Susato was just happy to be along for the ride through his thoughts, never knowing where it was going or if it had already reached its destination.
“So,” he continued, “My new hat matches my new coat but my old coat had an old hat which is not currently ash—the substance or the colour—but doesn’t match anything I own, so you may have it if you like.”
“What?” She wasn’t sure she understood him just then.
“My old deerstalker. Just a little memory of your time in Britain learning the Science of Deduction from the Great Detective,” he said, flicking his hair with a proud smile.
She covered her mouth as it fell open. “Do…do you mean it?”
Popping in his bedroom for a moment, he emerged and tossed a grey lump to her. “There. It’s yours.”
Susato turned it over in her hands reverently. A deerstalker cap. Previously worn by Herlock Sholmes himself. It still smelled of tobacco and soap. When she tried it on, it fit perfectly over her hair (take that Naruhodo-san). Eyes brimming with tears of happiness, she looked up at Sholmes overcome with gratitude.
He started edging away. “Yes, well, anyway—oof!”
Susato almost knocked him over with the force of her hug. Since he was a head taller, she squeezed his middle with all her might. “Oh, Mr. Sholmes, this will be my most treasured possession!”
“Yes, yes, I am glad you are pleased,” he wheezed, awkwardly patting her back before extracting himself. “Now, do not forget the method! You will need everything you learnt if you’re going to keep Mr. Naruhodo on track.”
“I will!” She put her hands on her hips. “And you had better write! I want to hear about all your cases!”
“That’s what I have a biographer for—okay, okay!” He was not immune to the Susato stare.
Contented, she softened to a smile. “Meeting you, Mr. Sholmes, and staying at Baker Street…this has truly been the greatest time of my life. Thank you.”
“It was a great pleasure, my dear. But I should warn you...” He posed with a flourish. “Your hat is on backwards.”
“W-what?”
“Ah ha ha ha ha hah! You fell for my backward hat trick. Classic!”
“Mr. Sholmes!”
“Yes?”
“I should warn you—behind you!”
“…Oh dear. What is happening with my experiment?”