Tohoku University Hospital
The ward was extremely quiet at night.
Kisaki Eri had already fallen asleep, while Hayashi Yoshiki sat on a chair beside the bed, quietly reading a book.
It was another psychology book.
Although the content was dull, Hayashi Yoshiki continued reading—because it was useful. But tonight, for some reason, he couldn't settle his mind.
What's wrong with me?
Feeling the subtle unease building in his chest, Hayashi Yoshiki eventually closed the book and pinched the bridge of his nose.
He glanced out the window.
The night was beautiful.
The stars and moon shone brightly, and the soft breeze flowing in through the window was pleasant… You could still see many stars in the night sky during the 1990s. But even the calming view failed to soothe Hayashi Yoshiki.
>"Sawaki Kohei died of suffocation after being tortured and sunk into the sea at 23:31 on the evening of September 27."
—Just writing a line like that in the Death Note felt like scribbling in a diary. It lacked any sense of reality.
No matter how many times he read it, Hayashi Yoshiki couldn't find peace in those few cold words. They didn't ease his restlessness.
His reflection in the glass was shadowed—his eyes were dark and turbulent.
The slight sting from the wound on his right arm was still there, but Hayashi Yoshiki didn't care... It was just a scrape. He wasn't that delicate.
Compared to what was weighing on his mind—
"...Yoshiki?"
"Aunt Eri? You're awake?"
At the sound of the familiar voice, Hayashi Yoshiki turned around instantly.
Kisaki Eri looked more energetic than she had earlier. When she saw Hayashi Yoshiki's gentle smile, she couldn't help but return a soft one of her own.
"Where's Ran?"
"She looked tired, so I sent her home to rest."
"...I'm sorry for troubling you."
"You don't need to say that, Aunt Eri."
Hayashi Yoshiki stood, noticing the warmth in her gaze, and stepped over to the bedside table.
"Would you like a glass of water?"
"Yes, please."
He poured her a glass.
The elegant woman pushed herself upright in bed with both hands. Her hair was a little messy after lying down all day, so she smoothed it back with her fingers and adjusted her glasses.
"Are you okay, Yoshiki?"
"The wound on my arm? It's already bandaged. Nothing serious."
"Good... but that's not what I meant."
"Hm?"
"...I thought a lot while lying here today, and I realized something. You never seem to share what you're thinking with anyone."
"..."
"You're always smiling... always gentle and dependable. But I think... even someone like you feels sadness or stress, right? I just never noticed until now."
She took the cup from his hands with a soft tone.
Feeling the warmth of the water against her palms, Kisaki Eri raised her eyes and smiled:
"Honestly, I was surprised to see your tense face this morning. Or... maybe I should say I was happy? It might sound inappropriate, but at least it helped me realize something."
"Whenever you feel burdened, don't carry it all by yourself, okay?"
Even in her weakened state, the smile she gave was bright, filled with wisdom and compassion.
For a moment, Hayashi Yoshiki looked as if he'd been struck still.
Then, his expression softened into a smile, his eyes half-lidded with warmth.
"I understand."
Black Widow Bar
This bar was the complete opposite of the cocktail lounge—loud and vivid.
Since there hadn't been much action recently, drinking had become the only regular pastime.
That was when Vodka suddenly burst through the door with a newspaper in hand.
"Brother! Cointreau is in trouble!"
"What?"
"What did you say!?"
Gin frowned deeply, while Tequila slammed the bar and jumped to his feet upon hearing that.
He yanked the paper from Vodka's hands.
>"The Famous Detective Targeted for Revenge!">"A Street Killer Who Predicts Murders With Playing Cards!"
—Two dramatic headlines.
This was the evening edition of September 27th. After the morning's crossbow attack on a police officer and the attempted murder of a detective, a few newspaper companies with sharp instincts had quickly printed a special edition.
Vodka had seen it at a convenience store while buying cigarettes.
Tequila skimmed the article rapidly. He didn't care about the attack on the police officer, but when he saw Hayashi Yoshiki's name, he slapped the paper again with force.
"Dammit!"
"What happened?"
"Something happened to Cointreau?"
Cohen and Chianti both leaned over to read.
Gin took the newspaper from Tequila and examined it himself.
Once he confirmed that Hayashi Yoshiki had survived the attack with only a minor arm injury, Gin's tension eased slightly. If it had been any other member of the Organization, Gin might have felt nothing—or even been glad another piece of dead weight had been removed.
But Cointreau was different.
Gin didn't care much for his combat skills—but his mind? That was invaluable. Just like how he tolerated Shiho Miyano (Sherry), Gin accepted Hayashi Yoshiki's weaknesses in other areas for the sake of his brilliance.
"Ahh~ so Cointreau was wounded?"
"Seems he got dragged into some murderer's revenge plot. Look, it's all here in the article," Vodka said, pointing to a small corner of the page.
It looked like a wanted poster.
Although Sawaki Kohei hadn't been identified yet, the motorcycle and red cycling suit he wore had been photographed and witnessed by civilians during both attacks.
The paper called on readers to report anyone matching the description.
Tequila stared at the image for a few more seconds, drained his glass in one gulp, and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Gin asked with a glance.
"Cointreau saved my life," Tequila replied, heading toward the door."I'm not just going to sit here after reading this."
"Do you even know where he is?" Chianti chimed in, intrigued.
"I'll ask around. Shouldn't be too hard to find out."
"...Brother?"
Seeing Tequila open the door and leave, Vodka looked toward his elder brother, unsure of what to do.
Gin didn't respond.
Chianti, realizing Gin wasn't going to stop them, suddenly grinned—her eyes glinting with excitement.
An excuse to kill and help out Cointreau?
How could she say no to that?
She hopped off the bar stool and dashed after Tequila.
"Hey! Wait for me, Tequila!"