More and more ads have been popping up in the papers reporting missing people, much more than usual in a week, rousing Naoto Shirogane, a private detective's suspicion. While it had been more of a observation without much to go off of, all of those names were listed under the same occupation. Club dancers. It wasn't until the fourth missing ad popped up in the morning paper, making her question whether or not this was something for her to get her hands on before her telephone rung. Naoto's eyes flickered and she put the newspaper down, sitting up. "Shirogane Detective Agency?" She was right to be suspicious. After a frantic call from the owner of a somewhat of a shady club that's dancers, now four of them, had disappeared; the owner had called you, stating you were the first after many who didn't take her seriously.

It was about six o'clock in the afternoon when you emerged from your dressing room, makeup half done and hair in rollers in search for one of your fellow dancers that you had let borrow your new pricey blush when you spotted a blue haired man with a cap walking from the boss' room, nodding politely and holding a briefcase. Odd, no one was usually allowed in before the club opened except carpenters and new hires, yet this man held himself with an intriguing poise that was almost charming. You feel like that face had been in the papers somewhere... The peculiar man closed the door, starting to walk to the door when he glanced to you, studying you for a moment with an indifferent expression before making his way towards you.

"Pardon me. Naoto Shirogane, private detective," The detective spoke, taking a badge from the inside of her jacket and flashing it. "I was hired by your boss to look into the missing dancers around here, and you seem to work here. If you don't mind, could I ask you a few questions?"