By the time Yoko Okino left Hayashi Yoshiki's room, it was already almost 1:30 a.m.
In the stillness of the night…
The hallway was completely dark and silent.
Yoko hugged her arms across her chest, trying to calm the wild pounding of her heart.
Yoshiki-kun really knows how to tease people…
Standing just outside his door, Yoko looked momentarily dazed. She touched her warm, flushed cheeks, then smiled unconsciously before turning and walking away.
Her whole body felt light, as if she were floating.
She tiptoed quietly back to her room, careful not to make a sound.
I need to shower… again…
She thought to herself.
It's all Yoshiki's fault…
Yoko had already bathed earlier, but thanks to the flurry of kisses and close contact, part of her yukata had become slightly damp and sticky. So, she had no choice but to shower a second time.
Just as she finished and was about to pour herself a glass of water before going to bed, she noticed something shoved under her door.
Curious, she walked over, picked it up—and instantly froze.
It was a photo.
A photo of her leaving Hayashi Yoshiki's room in the middle of the night.
She'd been found out...
Someone had not only seen her—but taken a picture.
As a popular idol who had never been involved in a single scandal since her debut, Yoko Okino was all too aware of how devastating such an exposure could be.
Purity and cheerfulness were her public image—the traits her fans cherished most.
She felt her world shake.
Without thinking, she called Hayashi Yoshiki in a panic.
"Put the photo under the door and I'll take a look. Don't worry—I'll handle this. Yoko, just go get some rest."
His calm voice helped her breathe a little easier.
She did as he instructed and placed the photo under his door.
Yoshiki picked it up and examined it.
Though unexpected, it didn't take much to figure out where the photo had been taken from. The angle made it easy to identify the photographer's location.
Knock knock.
Shortly after, Yoshiki knocked on one of the nearby doors.
It opened.
A man in his thirties appeared, wearing a baseball cap and dressed in worn, scruffy clothes. He was none other than Anzai Morio, the crew's photography assistant.
"Oh? The real star shows up."
Clearly, Anzai Morio had been expecting him. He grinned and stepped aside, allowing Hayashi Yoshiki into the room.
Before Yoshiki could even speak, Anzai raised two fingers and twisted them.
"Let's get straight to it. How much are you willing to pay?"
"I don't think there's anything especially damaging in this photo," Yoshiki replied calmly.
"Heh. If that were true, you wouldn't be here."
Anzai sneered.
"Everyone knows you were recommended by Yoko Okino to be the consultant on this production. And now she's seen sneaking out of your room in the middle of the night? Who'd believe nothing's going on? If you don't pay up, I'll sell the photo to her rival agency. They'll love it."
"….."
"Just a reminder—modern tabloids are masters of creative writing."
"It seems you're quite familiar with how this game is played, Mr. Anzai. What price do you have in mind?"
"Name your offer."
Seeing Yoshiki go along with the conversation, Anzai's eyes sparkled with greed. He chuckled smugly and said:
"A best-selling author, a famous detective, and a scandal-free idol? I could live off this for years."
Yoshiki didn't react. He simply sighed.
"…You're quite the piece of work."
He then pulled a notebook from his pocket.
Originally, Hayashi Yoshiki had assumed that without Conan Edogawa around, no one would die this time. But Anzai Morio… was someone he remembered.
In the original plot, Anzai had taken compromising photos of crew members and tried to blackmail them—before ending up dead.
Seeing Yoshiki write something in the notebook, Anzai assumed it was a check or a bank transfer.
But after a while, he grew impatient.
"Come on, are you writing an essay?!"
Yoshiki glanced at his watch and smiled.
"Just wait about twenty more seconds."
"What?" Anzai scoffed. "If you're not paying, I'll go find someone who will."
"You're really impatient. Fine. Go to Beika Hotel, safe deposit box No. 47. Give the front desk the code word 'Spider' and they'll hand over the key."
"How much is in there?"
"No money. But what's inside…" Yoshiki glanced at his watch again, then gave him a charming, icy smile. "Is worth more than your life, Mr. Anzai."
"…What did you say?"
Anzai blinked in disbelief.
Annoyed, he stepped forward to grab Yoshiki's collar—
But at that moment…
The time struck 1:48 a.m.
Anzai's eyes suddenly changed.
"Anzai Morio.At 1:48 a.m. on May 3rd, you destroyed all negatives used for blackmail and never spoke of tonight again.On the 3rd day, at 4:03 p.m., you retrieved the contents of safe deposit box No. 47 from Beika Hotel using the code word 'Spider,' and buried the items beneath the large banyan tree in Tsutsumigawa Green Park.Died of alcoholism thirteen days later."
That's what Hayashi Yoshiki had written in the Death Note.
The "props" Spider had made before his death—referenced in prior notes—were still hidden in that safe deposit box.
Of course, Yoshiki had no intention of retrieving them himself. He planned to manipulate several others to move the item through various hands before it eventually reached him.
After Anzai's mood turned oddly obedient, Yoshiki gave a courteous smile, thanked him, and left the room.
No matter how many times I see it… the Death Note's ability to distort human will is always fascinating…
Later:
Okino Yoko: "How did it go, Yoshiki-kun?"Okino Yoko: "I'm really sorry…"Okino Yoko: "It's my fault. I should have been more careful…"
Yoko hadn't gone to sleep. It was obvious she was feeling guilty and worried.
Hayashi Yoshiki: "Don't worry. Everything's fine."Hayashi Yoshiki: "But in public places like this, you do have to be careful to avoid situations like that."Hayashi Yoshiki: "I'll explain everything later. For now, you should get some sleep."
Okino Yoko: "Yeah…"
In her room, Yoko let out a soft sigh and clutched her phone to her chest.
One thought crossed her mind—
Maybe next time, we should go somewhere more private for our 'date'…