Led by Miya, Yushi, Huashin, Sayanaka, Weimin, and Araka stopped in front of a comparatively modest display in the main wing of the Bakju National Museum.

Inside was a decorated ceramic plate.

Araka leaned forward and read the information panel from Miya’s tablet. 

Decorated Ceramic Plate (Replica)
 Origin: Asakari Shrine (明谷宮), Nan’en State (南安省)
 On loan from: Nan’en Nanen Museum
 Provenance: Nambo Omikare Construction Co. (南部衛前營造行)

Araka blinked.

“…Omikare?”

Before Araka could let her observation sink in, Sayanaka interrupted.

“Wait, Araka-cha, that’s the surname of the runner I lost to during last year’s state tournament. You mean it belongs to her?”

Huashin looked at both of them. 

“Both of you know the name?”

Araka and Sayanaka nodded.

“I know someone with this surname,” Araka read the panel again to make sure.

The person Araka was mentioning was no other than Omikare Anikara (衛前 安仁), one of her closest friends.They had known each other since elementary school, they played with each other all the time, and now they are in the same track and field team in the same high school. 

But more importantly, Anikara’s family happened to be associated with a major construction contractor in Bakju. 

Of all the places to see that name…

For a moment, Araka wondered whether Anikara had somehow neglected to mention that her family owned ancient shrine artifacts.

Then she noticed the wording again.

“Nambo Omikare Construction…” She tilted her head. “Actually, maybe not.”

“What?” Sayanaka asked. “I mean, Omikare is a rare surname nowadays.”

“Anikara’s family company is just Omikare Construction Co.,” Araka pointed at the panel and said, “This one says Nambo Omikare Construction Co, and it’s based in Nan’en, not even in Bakju.”

Yet, behind her lips, Araka still didn’t treat it as a mere coincidence.

After all, Anikara’s ancestral home was indeed in Nan’en. Anikara had even told Araka that most of her clan were still in Nan’en.

Maybe this company is one that one of her relatives owned. If that’s the case, maybe her connection to Anikara could be useful here.

Miya, meanwhile, began explaining the object’s history.

“The plate was originally associated with Asakari Shrine in Nan’en State. The shrine itself was destroyed by a landslide approximately a century ago,” she pointed to the information panel and said.

“However, the plate survived and eventually entered the collection of the Omikare family. It was later donated for institutional preservation and eventually transferred into the National Nan’en Museum collection.”

“So it’s another loan?” Yushi asked.

“Yes.”

Yushi stared through the glass.

“And this is the object that’s missing?”

“That’s correct.”

Araka then walked toward the display case and took a closer look at the plate. The label below, just like Miya said, indicated that the item on display was a replica.

But, something caught Araka’s attention.

The text “replica” was printed on a label and then sticked onto the original label.

More importantly, another small label was placed below the main label.

“Temporarily removed for research and conservation.”

“Miya-sa,” Araka turned to Miya and said, “You said this was the item that went missing?”

Miya nodded: “In fact, we would have permanently changed this to a replica on display.”

Everyone shifted their attention to Miya.

“Why?” Huashin asked. 

Miya gestured toward the centre of the plate.

Araka looked more carefully — a hexagonal gemstone sat in the middle of the ceramic design. Even on the replica, it was visually distinctive.

“The original plate was removed for further examination,” the staff member explained. “Specifically because of the central gemstone.”

Yushi stepped closer.

“What was wrong with it?”

“We don’t know — like we don’t know if our assumptions about this gemstone are correct.”

Yushi turned toward her.

“…You don’t know what the stone is?”

“Not conclusively.”

“Then why was an unidentified gemstone being exhibited in the first place?” Huashin said.

Miya began to look mildly defensive.

“Because …it wasn’t originally considered unidentified.” She brought up the museum’s catalogue on her tablet. “The historical record identified the stone as Setakushi (泉石).”

Araka glanced at Huashin.

Yushi continued. “But from what you said earlier, it isn’t?”

“During a recent re-examination, the conservation team found that several characteristics didn’t match the preliminary description expected for Setakushi.”

“Like?” Weimin, previously silent, joined the conversation.

“Structure. Surface response. Some aspects of its appearance under examination.”

“So you removed the original.”

“Yes. It was transferred into research storage for further analysis. The replica was placed here so the exhibition wouldn’t have to remove the entire object from the collection.”

Sayanaka looked through the glass.

“But you said you won’t display the original one after this examination?”

“Because we still don’t exactly know what it really is,” Miya said, “and we have to make sure all the information we have on display is as accurate as possible.”

Yushi’s expression hardened.

“So Ms. Akamoji, may I ask if the plate was in the museum storage last week?”

“It was,” Miya said, “and that is why it’s concerning — because a piece of Setakushi, if real, is extremely valuable on the market. There had been another case in Niangkee last month where a small Setakushi ring was the target of an attempted heist.”

“So… it’s something now considered highly valuable,” Araka said.

Huashin then narrowed her eyes.

“Do we have a picture of the original?”

Miya nodded and responded: “Yes.”

She scrolled through the catalogue and opened an archival photograph. The plate looked almost identical to the replica in front of them. 

Araka leaned closer.

The hexagonal stone was clearly visible, and there was nothing especially spectacular about it.

But something about it bothered her, and Araka couldn’t yet explain why.

Huashin looked at her.

“What are you thinking?”

Araka squinted her eyes and continued staring at the photograph.

“…I’m not so sure,” she said, “But I think the colour and the texture is a bit off, and I’m not sure if it’s just the lighting they applied to the plate.”

Before anyone could continue, footsteps came from behind them.

“Setakushi, right?”

Araka turned.

Hatoru, escorted by a police officer, had returned to the gallery, apparently having finished his conversation with the museum staff elsewhere.

Miya nodded: “That’s how the central stone was originally catalogued, Mr. Otanaku.”

Hatoru walked closer to the display. “Then that isn’t exactly something cheap.”

Yushi looked toward him.

Hatoru continued. “Setakushi can be quite valuable, especially one cut this cleanly.” He gestured toward the hexagonal stone reproduced at the centre of the plate. “How old did you say the plate was?”

“Approximately five hundred and twenty years.”

Hatoru paused.

“Ah.”

He leaned closer.

“Then that puts it around the Watanaba Era.”

Araka knew the name. It was the period when much of the South had been politically unified, but “unified” hardly meant peaceful — clan conflicts, competing authorities and periodic instability had continued throughout much of the era.

“Cutting Setakushi into something this regular five hundred years ago wouldn’t have been impossible. A sufficiently skilled craftsman could absolutely have done it,” Hatoru narrowed his eyes while examining the replica, “But it would’ve required considerably more work than today. Here someone mounted it neatly into a ceremonial plate, while I would think it’s quite an accomplishment.”

The others didn’t respond.

“And somehow, it ended up in a shrine.”

Then, Huashin finally spoke.

“Mr. Hatoru, you raised a good point, but as someone who actually came from shrine training, I wouldn’t say that’s particularly implausible.”

Hatoru turned toward her.

“Oh, Ms. Kou?”

Huashin shook her head.

“Especially during periods with powerful local lords. Prominent families sometimes gave expensive objects to shrines as patronage—or as a public demonstration of approval,” she gestured toward the plate, “And sometimes a shrine was simply considered a safe place to keep something valuable.”

“So hiding the family treasure in a shrine?” Sayanaka said.

“Sometimes,” Huashin said, “Or donating it to the gods so nobody else in the family could conveniently sell it.”

Hatoru gave a small laugh.

“Fair enough,” he looked at the replica again and said, “I’ve actually seen someone with Setakushi before.”

Yushi raised an eyebrow.

“Personally?”

“Yes. Not something this large, though,” Hatoru studied the reproduced gemstone. “But… I don’t remember the colour being quite this vibrant.”

The museum staff member looked toward the display.

Hatoru quickly added: “Although that may mean absolutely nothing. This is a replica, after all.”

Yushi folded his arms. 

“Mr. Otanaku, I appreciate the observations, but I’m not sure you’re the person we should be relying on for this,” Hatoru looked at him. “You’re talented, indeed, but I’m pretty sure you’re a journalist, not an archaeologist.”

Araka briefly wondered whether Hatoru would take offence.

“That’s exactly why I’m asking,” Hatoru replied calmly, “I’m not claiming to identify it.”

Hatoru gestured toward Miya.

“As you can see, Miya is someone who works with actual archeologists. Here, I’m trying to confirm what I know with someone who has access to the actual records. If I’m wrong, I’d rather be corrected now than confidently report something ridiculous later.”

To Araka’s surprise, Miya wasn’t offended. 

“That’s something I could check,” Miya responded.

While the adults continued talking, Araka stepped closer to the tablet containing the photograph of the original plate.

Then, something about the story was beginning to feel strangely familiar.

A valuable object kept inside a shrine…

Her thoughts went back several days — the Shimana Shrine, the Hanyo, with Hakasa recounting the night, years earlier, when someone had broken into another shrine.

Men dressed in black, her injured uncle, and a stolen holy plate.

And at its centre - a crystal.

“…Wait.” Araka said out loud. 

Huashin heard her.

“Araka, did you notice something?”

Before answering Huashin’s question, Araka immediately shifted to Miya.

“Miya-sa, may I ask something?”

“Of course.”

“May I enlarge parts of the photograph, especially the part with the gemstone?”

Miya nodded and handed the tablet to her.

Araka used her finger and zoomed in on the gemstone. She closed her eyes, trying to catch every detail of the photograph using her newly acquired Matake ability. 

After a few minutes, she handed back the tablet and spoke with a serious voice. 

“Miya-sa, are you sure this definitely is the colour of the original stone?”

“At least according to the early record, yes.”

“But even after reexamination, is it still the same?”

Miya quickly returned to her tablet.

“Let me check the original catalogue.” She scrolled through several records before stopping at an older entry.

“Here, the one we recorded last Friday.”

The image was different from the photograph they had just seen. Instead of documenting the entire plate, it had been taken almost directly above the central stone, with a reference gemstone beside it.

“The lighting was adjusted when this photograph was taken,” the employee explained. “According to the catalogue notes, they specifically wanted the colour to be recorded as accurately as possible.”

Araka, Huashin, Hatoru and Yushi gathered around the tablet. For Araka, there was little ambiguity this time — the hexagonal stone had a rich blue colour. While not exactly the same as the reference stone, the gemstone was still a beautiful piece. 

Hatoru, meanwhile, seemed to have noticed something else.

“Ms. Akamoji.”

“Yes?”

“May I ask you something about Setakushi?”

“Of course.”

Hatoru enlarged the image.

“Is it normal for Setakushi to have patterns like these across its surface?”

Huashin leaned closer.

“What patterns?”

“Here.”

Hatoru traced his finger above the screen without touching it. Thin variations in the blue colour ran across the gemstone. They weren’t cracks, nor did they seem to follow the geometric structure of the cut.

Huashin immediately understood what he meant.

“Yeah,” she narrowed her eyes and pointed toward another section. “It almost looks like… the path left by a brush — like someone dipped a brush into paint and went across it several times. The blue isn’t distributed naturally.”

Miya also enlarged the photograph again.

“Hm,” she looked between the different catalogue images and then with the reference gem. “It does seem that way. I will get in touch with the conservation laboratory for the complete examination records — they should know considerably more than I do.”

“Please do,” Yushi said.

Miya nodded and stepped aside to make the call.

For several seconds, both Huashin and Araka continued staring at the blue stone.

Then, Huashin turned toward Yushi.

“Detective Yushi.”

“Hm?”

“I think SAIR will take over the main investigation from here.”

Yushi’s eyebrows rose.

“You think something’s wrong with the gemstone?”

“Well, We’re not certain about what the gemstone is, but we still believe this gemstone needs further examination.”

Yushi scratched his head. “But I don’t necessarily think a misclassification means the gemstone is dangerous. After all, it’s a very sophisticated piece, so maybe the original owner wanted to make the central gemstone more vibrant than it should be.”

Weimin, meanwhile, also came back after answering communication from his earpiece.

Huashin turned to Weimin. “Weimin, anything going on?”

“Huashin, I think we might have a clue of what actually happened last night.”

Everyone shifted their focus to Weimin.

Weimin continued: “Earlier, the museum’s director had informed me that for this specific piece, days before the official exhibition, the Zakatarin delegation asked several questions regarding this piece.”

“Well, I guess it shouldn’t be something out of place, right?” Yushi said, “that means these Zakatarin people really appreciate our culture.”

Weimin nodded. “But the museum director said the delegation didn’t seem to show the same interest in other pieces.”

“Well, that’s a beautiful plate, and as Hatoru said, for this hundreds-years-old craftsmanship, it’s pretty rare on its own.” Yushi said.

“And I have also checked with the International Joint Policing Committee, and recently they have flagged Setakushi as something highly vulnerable to heist due to changes in the black market.”

So someone from that Zakatarin delegation might have told the thieves about the existence of a large Setakushi piece in the museum, and then they used the Vase of Mercilli as a diversion, Araka thought as she pieced all the pieces together.

Yet, one thing still made her mind boggled.

The stone might not be a Setakushi at all.

If this really was a Shard in the middle of the plate, then it wasn't just a mistake for the thieves. 

It might cost their lives.