Kanji was hiding.

It seemed like a reasonable response. He huddled in the back room, stitching feverishly, blinking as a female figure found its way into the fabric's wrinkles. He shook it out. His mother answered the door.

"Oh, Yukiko!" she sounded delighted, "What's wrong, dear? You look a bit flushed."

Yukiko said something that he couldn't make out because he was too busy attempting to shove himself through the window. It wasn't very working very well. He heard a suspicious ripping noise and despaired. When his mother came in, she tactfully pretended not to notice. "Kanji-kun," she was beaming in that, my-son-is-friends-with-a-girl! Sort of way. Kanji redoubled his escape efforts, "Yukiko said she's here to see you."

"I'm not here." Kanji said immediately. His mother looked at him disapprovingly, and his neck felt all hot, "Mom," he coughed, "This isn't, uh, the best time."

"Kanji," she folded her arms disapprovingly, "She has a very nice mother."

"Mom!" Kanji whined, trying to tug his leg free. His mother studied him for a moment and then sighed enormously, trudging from the room with her shoulders slumped, glancing back every few steps. Kanji absolutely refused to feel guilty. Absolutely. Would not. Won't.

His mother seemed to have gotten the message, for she straightened and reported in a clear, ringing voice, "It would seem that my son has been confined to the toilet for the next several hours."

Kanji didn't exactly tackle her, but it was a close call.

"MOM SHUT UP," Kanji wailed, lurching through the doorway and not-so-gently stuffing his mother away. The air felt chilly. He had to swallow twice before turning around to face Yukiko, and even then, his gaze dropped to the floor immediately.

"Hey, Yukiko-senpai," he said, in a very small voice. He managed to peel his eyes off the ground, taking in her grave expression. His stomach clenched.

"Kanji-kun, I have something to talk with you about," she said solemnly, and then held up his love letter. Kanji wondered if suicide hurt very much.

"Erm!" he squeaked. Yukiko decided this was a normal and acceptable response, for she continued.

"I think someone is playing a horrible prank on the two of us," she confided to him, "I found this in my shoebox!"

"Fancy that," Kanji choked. Yukiko nodded earnestly.

"Is there anyone who can fake your signature well? Someone with access to samples of your handwriting?" she continued, obviously sliding back into her days as an investigator.

Kanji hid his face in his hands.