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Crumb Trail
The Nose Knows · Ch.8
Wide view of the Tiny Case Agency clubroom. A chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat and red scarf stands in the middle of the room, chin up and nose tipped up as she sniffs the air, magnifying glass under one arm and faint curls of scent drifting nearby. A chibi boy in a mint-green cat-ear hoodie sips a juice box on the cardboard boxes, and a round white cat sleeps in an open box.
Low-angle view of a chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat and red scarf, holding up a big magnifying glass and flinging her other arm out to point, her coat flaring behind her like a cape as she scowls with conviction while wisps of scent drift around her.
A silent low close-up of the lower half of the chibi girl's oversized mustard-yellow coat, seen from behind. A few soft curls of scent rise from inside one big patch pocket of the coat. No text.
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Wide view of the Tiny Case Agency clubroom. A chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat and red scarf stands in the middle of the room, chin up and nose tipped up as she sniffs the air, magnifying glass under one arm and faint curls of scent drifting nearby. A chibi boy in a mint-green cat-ear hoodie sips a juice box on the cardboard boxes, and a round white cat sleeps in an open box.
Low-angle view of a chibi girl in an oversized mustard-yellow coat and red scarf, holding up a big magnifying glass and flinging her other arm out to point, her coat flaring behind her like a cape as she scowls with conviction while wisps of scent drift around her.
A silent low close-up of the lower half of the chibi girl's oversized mustard-yellow coat, seen from behind. A few soft curls of scent rise from inside one big patch pocket of the coat. No text.

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← The Shape on the Wall · Ch.7
Text Version A written companion to this chapter — for accessibility, screen readers, and search.

A sweet citrus smell drifts through the Tiny Case Agency, and Momo is certain a perfumed intruder has slipped in. She sniff-tracks the phantom guest to the mini-fridge, to Biscuit, to the boxes — but the scent follows her wherever she goes, because it is coming from a warm mandarin orange she pocketed days ago and forgot. Ganta points at her coat pocket on page five. She runs right past him, corners the cat, and only cracks the case when she reaches into her own pocket and pulls out the culprit.

Page 1

Page 1. A wide establishing panel of the Tiny Case Agency clubroom — a low wooden desk with a mug of pencils and a green casebook, a stack of cardboard boxes by the window, a battered corkboard, a small white mini-fridge, a folding metal chair and a square window with warm afternoon light. Momo stands in the middle of the room in her too-big mustard-yellow trench coat and dusty-red scarf, chin lifted and nose tipped up, sniffing the air; a few soft curls of scent drift near her, her oversized magnifying glass tucked under one arm. Ganta sits on the boxes with his pale-blue juice box, and Biscuit is curled asleep in an open cardboard box. MOMO: 'Someone has been here. I smell them.'

Page 2

Page 2. A low-angle panel looking up at Momo for maximum tiny drama. She holds her oversized magnifying glass upright in one hand and flings her other tiny arm out to point, her too-big coat flaring behind her like a cape, chin lifted, the theory already fully formed. A few soft curls of scent drift in the air around her. MOMO: 'A guest. Uninvited and perfumed.'

Page 3

Page 3. A silent close panel, low on the floorboards, showing the lower half of Momo's oversized mustard-yellow coat from behind. From inside one big patch pocket of the coat a few soft curls of scent rise into the air — the clue sitting in plain sight while she is turned away, her attention elsewhere. No dialogue.

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