She is not an investigator.

"I didn't do much today, so why do I feel so tired..."

Igris sighed, slowly took a step, and walked towards the agency.

But before she had taken two steps, a pair of hands suddenly reached out from the alley next to her and quickly pulled Igris inside.

This was indeed sudden. Firstly, it wasn't completely dark yet, and Igris wasn't particularly alert to her surroundings, nor were her senses particularly sharp.

Secondly, this is in front of the police station.

Yeah, what kind of idiot would be planning to commit a crime in front of the police station? Robbery? Robbery of money or sexual assault? Or something even more cruel?

A multitude of thoughts flashed through Igris's mind in an instant, but her actions were probably even faster than her thoughts.

"do not move!"

Igris swiftly broke free from the man's restraints and quickly pinned his arms behind his back, pressing his head against the wall with one hand.

It was only now that she could see the person's face clearly.

The Bizarre Stage Play – The Book of Secrets: Chapter Fifty-Four, Dual Identity

Isabella?

"Hmm~? What's wrong, darling? Aren't you going to continue?"

Igris's hand jerked violently, instantly releasing Isabella in front of her, and she immediately darted out of the alley, looking at Isabella, whose face still held a lingering smile, with lingering fear.

"...Don't greet me like that next time. If I'm really scared, I might attack you."

"Oh, were you really scared by me?"

Isabella followed them out of the alley and smiled at Igris.

"No joke... Actually, I came to see you this time because I have something to ask you."

"Oh, what is it?"

"Let's talk as we walk."

…………

"Saying goodbye?"

Will you miss me?

On the way back to the office, Isabella tilted her head and looked at Igris with some anticipation.

"...Maybe, but where are you planning to go?"

"How cold-hearted you are. But I wouldn't like you if you weren't like this. Actually, it's nothing. I'm just going to a friend's birthday party. She's not feeling well and might not have many more opportunities like this, so I'll probably be away from Bayanka for a while. I'm just letting you know so you won't worry."

"Uh-huh…"

Igris nodded, but seemed a little distracted.

Because she had thought of something unpleasant again.

"So...before I get back, you need to take good care of yourself and not let other women fool you, understand?"

"……certainly."

Igris pursed her lips, seemingly wanting to smile, but probably feeling that it wasn't appropriate to smile at this moment, so she simply tossed her hair.

But Isabella suddenly quickened her pace and jogged up to Igris and stopped in front of her.

She first raised her hand to stop Igris.

Facing the setting sun, her face was slightly flushed, perhaps due to the reflection of the light, or perhaps for some other reason.

"—Igris."

"..."

Igris hesitated to speak, still somewhat traumatized by Isabella and by such a formal occasion.

But people always change, whether it's Igris or Isabella.

"As a parting gift, should we... try to do something?"

"..."

"If you don't answer, I'll take that as a yes."

She took a step forward, slowly closing the distance between them under Igris's gaze.

The shadows intertwined, and even the air seemed to quiet down.

Their eyes met, a gaze devoid of any lust, a look of pure bliss.

"…Thank you."

"...?"

Isabella gave a sly smile and quickly backed away.

She didn't try to kiss Igris at this moment, although she probably wouldn't refuse, but she wanted to find a better opportunity.

"I hope that when we meet next time, our relationship will be even better."

Isabella waved to Igris and quickly left the street, fleeing without looking back.

Igris touched the tip of her nose, suddenly feeling a little lost and wistful.

Shouldn't she really try to accept everyone's feelings?

"...Feelings are such complicated things."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

By the time I got back to the office, it was almost dark.

The office was quiet and there weren't many people there.

This is nonsense, because there are usually no other people in the firm, except when there are clients.

Igris was very familiar with the situation of her family's shop. She had hardly ever taken on any cases, and very few people would know that there was actually a law firm there.

However, this isn't necessarily a bad thing; at least it won't cause any trouble for Igris and Momokawa.

Welcome back.

"You've had a long day too."

Igris closed the shop door and waved to Momokawa.

The latter responded without looking up, still engrossed in writing something.

Igris had seen her notes, and more than once. She often wrote all sorts of random things; perhaps that was one of her interests?

Igris returned to her room, locked the door, and sat on the bed.

The room was dark, the lights were off, because she didn't need to turn them on, and she liked the atmosphere.

But that's not the point.

"—"

A strange ripple suddenly spread through the air, and the surrounding darkness seemed to materialize at that moment, climbing onto Igris's body.

Soon, the shadows faded, and in their place came a pair of arms that rested on her shoulders.

"...Don't touch me without permission."

"I thought that someone as popular as you would be more open-minded."

The arm did not release Igris, and the owner of the arm appeared from behind her, encircling Igris, sitting beside her, and pressing against her body.

A person who is almost identical to Igris, except for slight differences in hair and eye color.

"...Give me the things."

"Um--"

She leaned back lazily, released her arm from Igris's shoulder, and lay down on the bed.

Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back, covering the bed and making her skin appear even paler and more delicate.

"I don't understand why you don't like wearing skirts."

"Because if you're wearing a skirt, this pose will definitely expose you."

"You still care about this issue?"

"As a woman, I can't be completely indifferent to this."

She turned her head to look at Igris's back, her fingers quietly moving up her back.

"...Stop messing around, give me the thing."

"No."

Igris jumped out of bed like a cat with its fur standing on end, glaring angrily at her other self on the bed.

Meanwhile, she looked with interest at Igris, who seemed to be angry, and lifted her chin.

"Want to try taking it away? I won't tell you exactly where it is, but it's definitely on me. Maybe you can touch it."

She touched the corner of her mouth with her smile, which was so dazzling that Igris couldn't help but look away.

Of course, it wasn't because her posture was particularly alluring. It's just…

"Could you please stop making those kinds of movements based on my appearance? Honestly... you should have some self-awareness about your own body."

"..."

She fell silent, then quietly sat up straight and tossed the red sphere to Igris.

"I want to go back."

"What's going on...? I only said one thing to you, why are you reacting so strongly?"

"Are you being a bit long-winded, or are you really planning to give it a try?"

"Try...try what?"

"...It's really hard to imagine that we're from the same era."

The Bizarre Stage Play – The Book of Secrets: Chapter Fifty-Five, The Administrator