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legacy-of-the-westside-prince · 6 years ago

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Chapter 4: Introduction to the Vanishing Bride

(Excerpt translation of Miss Sherlock novelization, pg 140-151, notes at the very bottom of the abyss of this post)

Several innocent eyes are laughing amongst the debris. All of the exhibited photos reflect smiling children. A sister wearing a bright hijab. A baby being carried by a mother. In a destroyed city, boys flashing their teeth, grinning. There is no “tragedy” here. These are only everyday things for them, where explosive sounds and gunshots are woven into their daily lives.

[Moriya Toru : Photo Exhibition - There is hope ahead of sorrow]

I received the flyer from Irikawa’s clinic, that was where I saw the printed photographs on them, and from there, strangely enough, I couldn’t shake the image of the solo photography exhibition from my mind. I wanted to see, no, I was compelled, having an unexplainable urge to go. Was it the eyes of a child laughing that tugged so strongly at my heart? Or was it because I didn’t want to forget about the people’s suffering?

Wato gripped her hands in front of her chest. The smiles of carefree children seemed to have erased some of the tension of these last few days.

(…They remain mostly silent during the prosecutor’s interrogation. The psychiatrist also seemed to have given up hope on making any progress.)

2 days ago. Sherlock’s older brother, Futaba Kento, visited 221B, and with a sigh he said:

(I took over the Shiina sisters’ case from Inspector Reimon. Under the jurisdiction of the government, I’ll be in charge of the investigation from now on. But, Shiina Yuma’s tight lipped. It’s as if her mind was somewhere else, it’ll be some time before her consciousness returns to normal. Mizuno Akiko is also an unknown connection to the case. Yuuma’s older sister, Arisa stated that she was just following her sister’s orders, she was completely silent about anything beyond that. I had also tried to interrogate Shiina Yuma herself, but the she wouldn’t even make eye contact.)

As soon as Kento went home, Sherlock began pondering about something for a long time. It was as if she could see something that Wato couldn’t. She wouldn’t strike up a casual conversation, and of course Sherlock wouldn’t voice out whatever she was thinking.

And thus, with such circumstances, for two full days, Wato had waited in 221B for any calls. Wato had quit her part-time job at the library, if the strained atmosphere continued for so long, she would have gone crazy. Whenever Wato is frustrated, Sherlock’s thoughts will be disturbed. And Wato doesn’t wish for that to happen. Hindering and disturbing Sherlock’s work and delaying the investigation of the truth of a case was something Wato didn’t want to do.

“…I like that picture the best.”

An unexpected voice said, Wato turned her head in surprise. Standing was a tall, seemingly shy man. He wore a simple-designed shirt, his face framed with neatly trimmed facial hair. From the way he spoke, it seemed like this was Moriya Toru himself, Wato smiled at him.

She returned her gaze to the picture of the adorable girl. Wato spoke, more to herself.

“She really does have a lovely smile… Enough to forget that she's in the middle of a battlefield.”

That’s right. The innocent voice of a child, their brilliant smiles always made me forget that hell. Wato continued looking at the photograph in front of her. Moriya quietly stood next to her. It was a while until Wato asked him a question.

“…Were you in Iraq?”

“Yeah. Do you know about it?”

“I was in Syria. I volunteered as a doctor there.”

“Ah… Is that so?”

“…Even now, sometimes I’m still unsure. Whether I was useful there. Could I have saved more people? Could I have done more?”

She was pouring out her words, Wato snapped back to reality. Why am I saying such things to him? I’ve never been able to mention all these to even Sherlock, nor Hatano, nor Irikawa. Wato looked up. Looking straight at Moriya. He seemed strong, but there was a hidden weakness underneath that face that could break easily. Wato looked away, not knowing what to say anymore. Moriya’s calm and careful voice spoke.

“I also receive counseling from Irikawa-sensei every time I return home.”

Wato took a breath. She looked up once again. I see. This was the person. Irikawa’s…

“So that was why the flyers were in the waiting room.”

Moriya laughed. A smile that rivaled the adorable child from the photograph.

“…Are you planning to go to the war zone again?”

“Soon. I want to take as many pictures of the people that lives on the battlefield, as much as possible. Their anger and their sorrow… Their smiles showing from time to time, lighting up their faces. They really are resilient. Every one of them has lost a loved one. Yet, they take that grief and look to the future. That’s much harder than wallowing in sorrow.”

Despair and helplessness. Even after being overwhelmed and knocked down, both mind and body are ragged. Yet, there are those that get back up on their feet. Then, there are injured people, unable to escape, having to force themselves back to hell.

Wato herself had seen these people in the same situation in Syria. This Moriya, unconsciously gazing intensely into Wato’s eyes, she had noticed. Her cheeks were warm. When Wato didn't say anything, Moriya’s voice was concerned.

“Um… Are you alright though?”

Wato tilted her head in confusion, not knowing why he was asking such a question.

Moriya continued speaking carefully.

"Do you get flashbacks? When you're suddenly overcome by the memories of war, images and sounds, suddenly reviving in your every day life..."

Wato immediately shook her head, looking at the person opposite her and replied.

"No. Do you, Moriya-san?"

"All the time. I hear the sounds of exploding bombs, machine guns rattling, even terrifying screams and cries. I make myself sound so special, but every time I... I always end up scared and run back to Japan."

Moriya laughed as soon as he finished his sentence, as though declaring that he talked of nonsense.

Wato took a deep breath. This man is... weak. And although he is weak, he acknowledges his fragility and accepted it, yet he was also moving forward in life. Wato felt the gentleness in his eyes, mirroring the eyes of the children in his photographs. The smile on Moriya's face abruptly faded away. Staring into Wato's eyes, and as though he had made up his mind, he said.

"If you'd like... maybe we can talk a little bit more else where?"

—

As soon as Wato stepped out of the shopping district in front of the train station, she felt her cellphone vibrate and stopped walking. Somehow she had a bad feeling about it. Just in case, she checked the screen of her phone, but sure enough her hunch was correct.

A message from the Devil.

"We received Kanbey's Terrine au Chocolat from the client. Buy Asamiya tea."

Feeling indifferent towards the text message, it was a simple, straightforward order.

Nevertheless, for Sherlock, she wouldn't think it was an order. Alright, alright, we were running out of green tea anyway, she thought. Wato placed her cellphone back in her bag. Wheeling around, she went back to the tea house she passed by earlier.

It was plainly obvious to see, her body felt lighter. After meeting Moriya-san, each conversation they had, surprisingly filled her thoughts.

Wato obeyed Sherlock’s orders immediately, most probably because she felt guilty. She did spend quite some time talking with Moriya. Telling her to come back with chocolates, was probably Sherlock’s way of saying that she was concerned — No, that couldn’t be it.

Anyway, the heavy atmosphere for the past few days, maybe Wato felt a little bit guilty that only she went out to get fresh air. Whether they were Asamiya tea, or Terrine au Chocolat, if these can get Sherlock to cheer up a bit, or be the reason to leave her desk, then that was fine for Wato. She quickened her pace. She headed towards the shop with the green banner. Oh, that’s right. I should also buy the matcha pudding too before going home—

The ground shook from an explosion.

Petrified, Wato watched in front of her as the glass windows of the tea shop blew away. Hot air grazed her skin, she could smell burning ashes. Screams. Gunshots. Voices begging to escape. Dust covered her eyes. The air was scorching hot. Suffering — crying. People, the people. A mother, cradling her child affected by a bomb explosion. In the middle of the debris. And then. Gunshots echoing.

Wato sat in the middle of the street, holding her head. Not realizing that tears were streaming down her face, she was weeping loudly. To anyone else, they certainly could only see Tokyo’s monotonous, shopping district, but for Wato’s consciousness, she was seeing something else. She could still hear the gunshots. A shadow of a fighter plane against the clear blue sky, speeding straight above.

—

“…It was really a loud explosion. And, suddenly, there were children screaming and wailing…”

It was a slightly cloudy morning. Wato gave out a deep sigh, she was in the counseling room, painted in a pleasant color. She had managed to get home — after what had happened yesterday.

She had greeted Sherlock and Hatano with her usual tone of voice that she was back with Asamiya tea, they had sweets with it. Everything seemed normal. Sherlock wouldn’t have understood anything. As Wato barely joined in any conversation, she hurried off into bed without giving her partner the time to observe her expression.

Even when she left home the next morning, Wato did not tell Sherlock where she was off to. Sherlock didn’t believe in counseling sessions in the first place.

“…Did you ever experience something like this in real life?” Irikawa, who was listening to Wato’s story, softly asked.

Wato nodded, “…An area close to the clinic was hit by a bomb, in an instant, the whole area was…”

Irikawa waited for her to finish her sentence. But Wato was keeping silent.

“…You’re suffering from PTSD. It’s an anxiety disorder, it’s caused by exposure to traumatic events. Symptoms include flashbacks. Positive thinkers may think they’re okay, but they develop PTSD more easily than others.”

As she had expected… Wato had heard the term before. As a doctor and going into the battlefield, they were to understand PTSD thoroughly. And yet. She thought that she would be alright. She was convinced that she wouldn’t be affected by it. Wato bit her lip. She straightened in her seat and asked.

“Will I continue to have more flashbacks?”

Irikawa’s face slightly softened. Everything in that reaction, was cruelly affirming Wato’s question.

“Although it may not be possible to completely erase such memories, but, certainly, they’ll gradually fade with time.”

Irikawa’s voice was unwavering. Wato gave a small nod. She couldn’t grip her fist properly. Her palms were gradually dampening from cold sweat.

—

She was walking along the corridor, stopping in front of the door that reached to the ceiling. Wato gently gripped the doorknob. There wasn’t a mirror to check her own face — will you be able to smile properly?

Releasing the doorknob, she pushed her cheeks up with both hands. She pushed the door open, maintaining her forced expression.

There were sounds of what seemed like rustling. Sherlock’s back was facing her, and was experimenting with laboratory instruments. Hatano sat relaxed in one of the chairs and was looking at a soft-colored flyer.

Hatano briefly looked back and said, “Welcome back.”

Wato exhaled. Just as usual. Nothing had changed, and nobody had noticed.

“Hatano-san, what’re you looking at?” Wato said brightly, approaching next to Hatano. Hatano smiled and let out a long sigh.

“I’m wondering which one I should go to.”

Wato peered at the flyer she was holding. She read aloud.

“Matchmaking parties! Even for seniors. For widows mourning their beloved husbands. Ahh…”

Wato summarized. I see, there was even this type of matchmaking—

“…Such an illusion!”

“Huh?”

Hatano chuckled. Her reply made Wato’s smile paralyzed.

“To say that all women who’ve lost their husbands are lonely, that’s just an assumption. Some women hated caring for their husbands. They’re finally free to lead their own lives again.”

No no, of course there may be such types of matchmaking parties, but to think that such a statement could come out from Hatano, who had lost her husband, Wato wouldn’t even want to joke about it.

Wato put her hands together, then spread them wide open, reminiscent to that of Maria from the Sound of Music. She replied with much positivity.

“Maybe there are some people like that! But I’m sure there are many happily married couples! To love each other, share their joys and sorrows.”

“Heh. Some people may have participated in killing their husbands.”

Sherlock suddenly cuts in. Why would you barge in this conversation at this time? Wato frowned, her roommate still making that dubious, rustling sound. Wato approached behind her and looked at what Sherlock was holding. Cucumber. Her roommate continued to grate the cucumber guilelessly.

“What’re you making?”

“Toner. For Hatano-san.” A concise answer.

Hatano earnestly replied as well, “Sherlock’s toner is extremely effective. It revitalizes the skin.”

“Ahh. With cucumbers?”

With Hatano’s high praise, and Wato expressing great interest, Sherlock proudly grinned and chuckled softly. At times like these, it was the only moment you would show your true innocent face, huh? Wato could only give her an ambiguous smile.

A cellphone began to rang inside the quiet room.

“Hm? Step aside a little, move, move. Okay, okay. Huh? Anyone seen my phone?”

“Jeez, you always have to hunt down your phone at times like these, isn’t it about time you tidy up a little!”

Wato snapped and told her off, but Sherlock didn’t seem to pay any attention. Her roommate retrieved her phone from under her coat and responded the call immediately. Her facial expression faded and was replaced by a devil-like grin.

Wato grasped the subtle changes, and instinctively straightened herself. Surely, this was — !

“What? The bride — vanished?”

An incident has happened. Sherlock beamed. A good distraction, much like a predator pleasantly catching prey and flying off with it.

—

Le Mariage Blanc, Tokyo. One of the biggest wedding halls in Tokyo. Not only are the facilities big and complete — but the ‘scale’ in terms of pricing is also big. Wato thought that the interior of the building had an air of luxury, while earnestly keeping up with Sherlock. They hurried through the polished and refined corridor. As they entered the lobby where the ceiling was high, she noticed familiar figures inside. They were Chief Inspector Reimon and Police Sergeant Shibata.

Shibata didn’t wait for Sherlock and Wato to approach them when he started explaining. It was his attitude of doing things before anyone else tell him to.

“The missing bride is a model named Mashima Risa. She disappeared right before the wedding reception.”

“Someone ran away with her? Just like in the movies.”

Wato really got into the idea. A bride who was taken away just before the reception — is it an escape with an ex-lover? A reunion with a true love. Just imagining it made her eyes sparkle.

“Nah, there was no sign of anyone coming to take her away.”

Shibata sternly denied. Wato could hear a small snigger from Sherlock, as she looked down in disappointment.

“Shibata. The photos.”

When prompted by his superior, Shibata showed the pictures saved on his phone to Wato and Sherlock. Look at that, even though he was being frowningly helpful, he was diligently doing his work, it’s very Shibata-like.

The picture was of a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a wedding dress. With the marriage certificate in their hands, both of them looked really happy. Reimon continued to explain to Wato and Sherlock who were looking at the picture.

“The groom is a famous jewelry designer, Saeki Kazuma. He made his name at the international Mazarin Awards. He has clients all over the world.”

Wato’s eyes widened. After Reimon mentioned it, it clicked to her.

“This guy, I’ve seen him on TV. I heard he was very popular with his original designs.”

“Hey. Why are you, the investigation division, handling a missing person’s case?”

Sherlock didn’t seem to be interested in the job of a jewelry designers at all. She asked the question mockingly, as though implying the fact that the two guys were so free at doing cases outside their scope.

“…11 years ago, I married my wife here.” Reimon straightened his back and answered with a straight face.

Sherlock went, “Huh?”

“This place is full of memories for me and my wife. I can’t let a case that occurred here go unsolved.”

Wato looked at Reimon, who was holding up his left hand, a ring gleaning from finger. She looked blankly with her mouth open. No way, you guys have way too much free time, but she closed her mouth and thought that it was such a wonderful thing for him to do. I am one who values such emotions. Unlike the devil sitting next to me.

“Even if Majima Risa remains missing, there’s still a possibility that this case would be taken over by us anyway.”

Shibata continued coolly.

What’s with that, Sherlock had probably thought, she sighed heavily and wearily.

“Well, OK then. Gather every single photo taken at the wedding, not leaving any rocks unturned.

“You don’t have to say it, we’ve already done it.”

Shibata smiled smugly. Sherlock sneered back at him.

“Oh, someone’s learning.”

“Detective consultants can’t handle this type of steady and honest investigation.”

“Well, thank you for your hard work, sir!”

Both strong and sarcastic, it was a dog-fox bickering. Wato was wondering how to stop them both, but Reimon casually raised his hand.

He managed to arbitrate the situation — saying that they would leave the rest up to Sherlock, and without delay, he walked away. Shibata quickly followed him from behind. Which left Wato staring blankly at them. Sherlock remained silent, then started to observe the inside of the hall. Wato as well let her eyes roam around. There was a wedding dress propped at one corner of the room which caught her eye. The design was an open chest with a bareback. The fabric was white as snow, with sparkling details.

“How nice… I’d like to wear a dress like this one day. But—“

There was an unexpected emotion of sorrow and pain wash over her, Wato looked down. It was hopeless — had you noticed the trembling in my voice just now? Wato felt a gaze, but Sherlock did not say anything. Not even the usual cheekiness of something like ‘It’d be difficult for you to face people after a divorce’…

Wato kept quiet. Sherlock only crossed her arms, continuing her observation of the room.

Silence.

After a while, they could hear the sounds of footsteps coming closer. Two employees appeared at the entrance.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting — ah, are you the consulting detectives? I was informed by Inspector Reimon about you. I’m the manager, Tachikawa. She’s the wedding planner, her name is…”

The man had neatly-combed hair, he carefully lowered his head towards Wato and Sherlock. Sherlock responded with a “Hmm” and a frank gaze, while Wato returned his greetings with a brief bow.

Standing next to Tachikawa was a woman in a pants suit. She bowed and continued Tachikawa’s sentence.

“Yokokawa. I accompanied the bride the whole day when the incident happened — ”

---

Notes: Just to reiterate, the Wakasugi Family Curse episode has been omitted in the novel, so there were some parts that happened in Episode 4 that were interwoven with The Missing Bride chapter (in this case, Chapter 4).

It’s a huge chunk of translation, just to make up for the lack of updates. Imma hibernate a bit.

Sorry if the “keep reading” link doesn’t work (I don’t know how... haha) If it does work, ignore this. LMAO.

Also I’m sorry for grammar inconsistencies as usual. Not really good at it. Will keep revising this til it looks sufficiently ok.

Ok, enough rambling. Hope it was good.

#miss sherlock #watolock #novelization #novel #english translation #sherlock is a little more sensitive at the last part WOW #second draft

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legacy-of-the-westside-prince · 6 years ago

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Chapter 4: The Vanishing Bride

(An excerpt translation of Miss Sherlock Novelization, Chapter 4, pg 170-174)

Exactly how many times she had been sighing, she wouldn’t know. What was she thinking?

Wato sat in a shrine on a hill for quite some time. She was watching trains passing by. She was watching them for a long time. As soon as the sun was setting, she decided to head home to 221B.

Gently opening the entrance door, standing at the corridor was her roommate, Wato froze. Had Sherlock heard the sound of Wato coming to the entrance and went to check? No. It seemed like Sherlock had been waiting there for quite some time.

Wato could only greet her with her gaze. She was at a loss as to whether she should apologize for what had happened during the day, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m home…”

“Why did Kouda appear at the wedding banquet?”

Wato’s roommate didn’t touch on a certain subject, she started talking about the case as if nothing had happened. Kouda - Wato concluded, was the name of the man that they were chasing during the daytime. Sherlock seemed to have carried out the investigations alone right after that. Wato went to stand in front of her partner. Anticipating the continuation of her words.

“The man who appeared at the convenience store, Kouda Natsuo, is being chased as a suspect for the murder case. Moreover, there must be a good reason why Kouda risked himself to appear in public, coming to the ceremony like that.”

“This Kouda-san person, maybe he left with Risa-san?” As she replied, she gave a small sigh.

Sherlock’s tone didn’t change.

“If a suspicious looking man like Kouda goes to the waiting room, anyone will be able to notice him.”

“What about the wedding dress? Why was it hanging on the railings of the bridge?”

“To buy some time. Nanami’s number was written on the receipt to interfere with the police investigation.”

“…Who in the world would do such a thing?”

There were still things she couldn’t fully comprehend. If Kouda was teaming up with Risa, wouldn’t that be a possibility that Risa isn’t related to the killer? But Sherlock seemed to think differently. Buying some time. To delay an investigation. But, who could it be? For what purpose? Wato leaned against the wall, as Sherlock walked to the back of the corridor. Without looking back, she said.

“There’s something I want to make sure of. But first-!”

—

Le Mariage Blanc, Tokyo. Bride’s waiting room.

The place hadn’t changed particularly much when Wato and the gang* visited a few days ago. Sherlock crouched down in front of a large commercial vacuum cleaner placed in front of her, she was scrutinizing it, looking for details. Yokokawa who greeted them inside, watched over the search consultation with a smile. Although her eyes and the movements of her lips looked a little troubled.

“On that day, you were cleaning the room using this?”

Sherlock asked, as she stood up. Immediately, Yokokawa responded.

“Yes, as this vacuum cleaner could suck up broken glass and water…”

“But there was no broken glass.”

Yokokawa’s eyes went round. Without much of a changed reaction from Wato’s partner, Sherlock continued.

“You helped with the disappearance of Mashima Risa, didn’t you?”

Yokokawa’s eyes shifted uneasily. She was clearly in a discomposure. Even though Wato was told in advanced by Sherlock about her deductions, Wato was nevertheless still surprised.

“You said that the hem of the wedding dress was stained by orange juice, but such stains weren’t found when the dress was discovered. Why is that, I wonder? Because you told us a lie.”

The dress hanging on the railings of the bridge was indeed pure white. The hem, fluttering against the wind.

“Risa had asked you to help her disappear, you gave her the vacuum cleaner and the uniform for her to change into.”

Sherlock raised her finger, as she walked around while she was talking. Yokokawa kept quiet, listening to her voice.

“Risa changed into the uniform you brought, then you compressed the wedding dress into a bag, then hid it inside the vacuum cleaner. Then Risa left this very room, disguising as you.”

The person who pushed the vacuum cleaner outside the room disguised as a staff, was in reality the bride herself, who would have thought?

Wato looked at Yokokawa’s face. The color had been drained from her face.

“You waited for the right timing before telling the groom and guests about Risa’s disappearance!”

“……I’m so sorry!”

Sherlock’s words had cut through her, Yokokawa’s head hung low.

Apparently, everything seemed to have been deduced correctly.

“Why did you do that?” Wato asked.

Yokokawa raised her head, replied hesitantly.

“Risa’s ex-boyfriend showed up to the ceremony.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

Wato inadvertently reacted excessively. An ex-lover! Was this not what Wato had imagined in the beginning? Sherlock pushed her aside, and thrusted a picture towards Yokokawa. It was the man they chased, it was a photo of Kouda Natsuo.

“This person?”

Yokokawa peered at the picture and immediately nodded.

“Yes, he’s the one.”

“Huh?!”

Wato exclaimed loudly. She understood that Yokokawa helped Risa's disappearance, but what did it mean when Kouda was Risa’s ex-boyfriend? Yokokawa nodded again, continuing her story.

“Mashima-sama… Risa-san had thought he died in the mountains, but he showed up to take her away. She said… she’d give anything to be with that man. My heart went out to her. I just had to help. I’m really, really sorry!”

Yokokawa hung her head even lower. Wato could not blame her, as Wato wanted to tell her that she understood her feelings. Then, she said.

“Where is Risa-san now?”

“After she had left this place, I would have no idea where she would be…”

Wato’s frowning companion gave out a small “hmm”. Sherlock’s eyes spoke clearly, just a little bit more, and she could have all the fragments of evidence to solve the case.

---

Notes: Again, I’m so sorry.

*The author describes their ratpack detective group as “Wato-tachi”, meaning Wato and the rest. Wato et al. Kinda like the Scooby gang... so I used the word gang loosely. Hahahaha, but y’all get what I mean.

#miss sherlock #novelization #translation #watolock #english translation

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