The days that followed were leisurely for Hayato Masaki.
No pressing tasks demanded his attention.
His routine settled into sharpening his skills at the Black Organization's training grounds and occasionally experimenting with the Death Note.
His fame, meanwhile, kept climbing.
Fans drawn by his charm, readers hooked by his mysteries—fueled by the Beika TV deduction show and Okino Yoko's public thanks during an interview, amplified by Futaba Publishing and the Organization's subtle nudging, Hayato now occasionally ran into people asking for autographs on the street.
"Really set on becoming a detective?"
Kisaki Eri studied him, hoping to sway him. "You're already doing better as a mystery novelist—fame, income, everything. There's no need to chase this."
Her words were gentle.
She didn't look down on detectives—just worried.
His popularity had spiked too sharply.
Admirers flocked, but detractors surely lurked. His success seemed dazzling, yet it risked burning too bright.
Switching to detective work could be fine if he replicated his early wins. But a single botched case could flip the public's tune entirely.
As a lawyer, Eri had seen it often: entertainment or music stars hailed as prodigies at their debut, only to face crushing backlash after one misstep. The media's praise turned to scorn overnight.
Many newcomers crumbled under the weight, sinking into gloom for months.
The strangest part? The media often meant no harm—just chased trends, writing whatever sold.
"I know what you're thinking, Aunt Eri."
"…Do you?"
"I won't lie—I enjoy the spotlight. But even if it all turned sour, I'd be fine."
Hayato's striking, almost delicate features glowed with quiet confidence. He smiled. "I trust myself. That's why I want to try. As a detective, I could bring cunning killers to justice or clear the innocent. That's meaningful to me."
"…"
Sunlight spilled into a corner of the living room.
What a radiant expression.
His heartwarming face softened something in Eri's chest.
Suddenly, she exhaled, as if letting go. "You're always so composed, Hayato."
"Gotta keep Aunt Eri from worrying, right?"
"You…"
Eri fell silent, at a loss.
Then, mirroring his smile, she laughed softly.
"Get ready to head out. I'll change."
"Got it."
It was a rare day off for Eri, and she felt like stepping out.
Soon, she reappeared, impeccably dressed.
Her elegant brown hair was neatly pinned up. A white base layer paired with a tailored gray blouse hugged her curves strikingly. A black pencil skirt and sheer tights showcased long, shapely legs—beauty balanced perfectly.
"What do you think?"
"Stunning, Aunt Eri."
"Heh, or I'd be too shy to walk beside you."
Eri flashed a refined smile.
Makeup added a touch of allure to her eyes, her laughter radiating the charm of a woman in her thirties, fully at ease.
"What're you saying?"
"It's true. Shame Ran's stuck at school today."
Eri stood at the entryway, one hand on the wall, slipping on her shoes.
"Teitan High lets out early, doesn't it? We could catch her after?"
"Maybe later."
Eri grabbed her keys, smiling as Hayato stepped out.
They headed downstairs.
Eri took the wheel—her Mini Cooper's driver seat was a bit cramped for Hayato.
Pulling out of the garage, she asked, "Wanna grab food first?"
"Breakfast… McDonald's breakfast menu sound good?"
"Why're you so hooked on that?"
"…It's just that good."
Hayato's voice softened slightly.
Eri glanced over, catching a hint of sheepishness, her lips curving up.
He always seemed so dependable, but moments like this were adorably human.
"Alright, let's do it. Been a while for me too."
"Cool."
"Then we'll hit the mall. I need to stock up on groceries… maybe check out clothes? You're half a public figure now, Hayato. Gotta keep your image sharp."
"I'm game. There's a bank near that mall—I need to withdraw some cash."
A society without mobile payments was a hassle, always needing cards or cash.
His editor, Asamiya, had mentioned yesterday that last quarter's royalties hit his account. Hayato needed to check the amount at an ATM.
But had last quarter flown by that fast?
Hayato blinked, pulling out his phone.
One glance froze him.
"It's April 13 today?"
"Yeah, why?"
"But yesterday was…"
Eri's puzzled look stopped him from finishing.
Edogawa Conan…
Ever since that kid shrank, time had gone haywire.
Hayato knew this world's timeline was screwy but hadn't cared much before.
Now, living it—yesterday being April 2, today leaping to April 13—felt absurd.
Weirder still, despite the date jumps, today was only the "next Friday" Gin had mentioned.
Good thing he checked his phone, or he might've missed Gin's meet-up. Who knows what that'd cost him?
He'd need to check the date every morning now.
And would this mess affect the Death Note?
***
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