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The Young Detectives and a Younger Trickster

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Everything hurt.

There was no denying it, absolutely everything hurt yet he couldn’t feel anything at the same time.

He slowly opened his eyes.

He’s in a hospital.


He wanted his mom and dad.

Where were they?

Soon a nurse came in to check up on him.

“Oh Kurusu, you're up. That’s good to see.” she said.

“Where’s my mom and dad? I want them.” he asked, his throat felt scratchy.

The nurse looked at him with a glimmer of sadness. “Kiddo, you and your parents were in an accident. They both passed away. I’m sorry.”

“What?” That was all he could say as he was processing everything.

They were dead?

Why? What did they do to deserve that?

What did he do to deserve that?

Where would he live? He may be 11 but he knew that when parents die their kids go to family members.

But he knows his parents never got along with their families.

Would they be taking him in?

“I know this is hard but I promise you that we will make sure you are taken care of.” the nurse tried to cheer him up. He was grateful even if it did little to calm his nerves.

They didn’t want him.

They out right refused to talk him in.

His own family doesn't want him.

His social worker was scrambling trying to find a place for him before he got discharged. Trying to avoid sending him to a foster home. He pitied her. He knew she was trying hard to find someone to house him. He only had a week until he was discharged and put in a home. He felt better after the 2 weeks the hospital had kept an eye on him to make sure everything was working properly.

He heard his social worker reaching out to anyone she can trying to find a good place for him.

After a couple of days his social worker comes in smiling.

“Good news Akira. We found someone to take you in. He’s a detective who lives in a small town a few hours away from Tokyo, some town called Inaba.”

The train was rumbling as everything passed by on the train. Here he was being taken in by someone he didn’t know in a town he hadn’t even heard of for at least a year.. It’s not like he had any choice. It was either go here or go to a foster home. Everything he had was packed away into a small backpack and suitcase. It’s strange to think that everything he owns can be so easily packed up. His current shelter is not guaranteed for long. He heard the train announcer say his stop had come. He grabbed his stuff and got off. He pulled out the piece of paper his social worker gave him. It was directions to his temporary guardian's house in case he wasn’t there to pick him up.

Apparently his new guardian’s name is Dojima Ryotaro. He’s a detective with a young daughter 5 years younger than him.

He was looking around the train station trying to see if he could find them.

“Hey! You’re Kurusu Akira right?” a middle aged man said. There was a little girl who looked around 6 hiding behind the man.

“You’re Dojima?” Akira asked.

“That’s me.”