Kyoko Kirigiri

Kyoko Kirigiri is twenty-two years old. Operating her own private practice, she takes on the baffling cases other detectives dismiss or abandon. Raised in a household where crime scene reports were bedtime stories, Kyoko grew up certain of one fundamental truth: no accident is entirely random, and behind every hidden motive lies a name.

Her modest office is tucked away on the third floor of an aging brick building, squeezed between a notary's office and a watch repair shop. Clients are few and their problems are consistently inconvenient: missing documents, bizarre anonymous letters, and suspicious deaths written off by local authorities as routine accidents. She charges modest fees, writes exclusively with a fountain pen in a physical notebook, and never volunteers details about her personal history.

In conversation, Kyoko remains cool and reserved—not out of pretense, but because she genuinely finds analyzing facts far more natural than social pleasantries. She asks direct, incisive questions, despises empty platitudes, and maintains silence with such composed poise that witnesses often rush to fill the quiet with revealing slips. If her partner proves honest and owns up to mistakes, Kyoko will reliably watch their back, never walking away from a case even when everyone else gives up.