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Crumb Trail
The Pencil Thief · Ch.2
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Wide view of the clubroom. A chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat holds up a chipped mug of coloured pencils with both hands, peering into it in horror, while a chibi boy in a mint-green cat-ear hoodie sips a juice box on some boxes and a small white cat sleeps in a cardboard box on the floor.
Two stacked panels: a close-up of a chipped ceramic mug of coloured pencils on a wooden desk with an obvious gap among them, and below it a chibi boy in a mint-green cat-ear hoodie sitting on a box, sipping a juice box with a flat expression.
Low-angle view of a chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat and red scarf, holding her magnifying glass aloft in one hand and pressing the other to her chest in wounded dignity, scowling.
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Wide view of the clubroom. A chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat holds up a chipped mug of coloured pencils with both hands, peering into it in horror, while a chibi boy in a mint-green cat-ear hoodie sips a juice box on some boxes and a small white cat sleeps in a cardboard box on the floor.
Two stacked panels: a close-up of a chipped ceramic mug of coloured pencils on a wooden desk with an obvious gap among them, and below it a chibi boy in a mint-green cat-ear hoodie sitting on a box, sipping a juice box with a flat expression.
Low-angle view of a chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat and red scarf, holding her magnifying glass aloft in one hand and pressing the other to her chest in wounded dignity, scowling.

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← The Pudding Incident · Ch.1
Text Version A written companion to this chapter — for accessibility, screen readers, and search.

The pencil mug on the clubroom desk keeps getting lighter. Momo mounts a stakeout, loses a fight with her own eyelids, and wakes just in time to catch the thief mid-crime. This time the prime suspect is actually guilty — and there is a hoard behind the fridge to prove it.

Page 1

Page 1. A single wide panel. Late afternoon in the Tiny Case Agency clubroom — cardboard boxes, a corkboard, the mini-fridge, warm light through the square window. Momo stands at the low wooden desk holding the chipped pencil mug up in both hands, staring into it with enormous horrified eyes. Ganta sits on the stack of boxes, sipping his juice box, unbothered. Biscuit is curled asleep in her open cardboard box on the floor, the picture of innocence. MOMO: "A pencil is missing."

Page 2

Page 2. Two stacked panels, read top to bottom. Top panel: a close-up of the chipped ceramic mug on the desk. Coloured pencils stand in it, one leaning out at an odd angle, a clear gap where another should be. Bottom panel: Ganta on his cardboard box, hood up, eyelids at half-mast, straw in his mouth. He is not invested in the crisis. GANTA: "You lost one."

Page 3

Page 3. A single panel, low angle looking up at her. Momo rounds on him. Her too-big coat flares. One tiny hand presses flat against her chest in wounded dignity; the other holds the magnifying glass high. Eyebrows down, chin lifted, absolutely certain of herself. MOMO: "I have never lost anything."

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