Edogawa Conan sat rigid.
Across from him, Mouri Ran was blissfully savoring her cake.
"Mmm~"
The treat's sweetness drew a cute reaction—she covered her mouth daintily, eyes curving into crescents. Kisaki Eri watched with fond amusement, passing her a napkin.
Hayato Masaki sipped his coffee.
Not bad.
Coffee beans often came with lofty flavor notes—bright fruit or floral tones, rich caramel or biscuit undertones. Hayato couldn't always parse them, but he knew fruity or floral brews leaned acidic, while woody ones carried a deeper bitterness.
"By the way, your name's Edogawa Conan, right?"
"…Yeah."
"Got it."
As Hayato picked up his pen and wrote in his notebook again, Conan's face stiffened.
He's not planning to use my name as a reference for that manga too, is he?
No way—
He had to derail this idea before it took root!
Conan's mind raced.
Hayato was jotting down Conan's name, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
He'd always wondered how the Death Note judged a "true name."
Was it the name on official records?
The one the person subconsciously embraced?
Or the name society and others universally recognized?
Take Conan, for instance: his true name was Kudo Shinichi, no question. But now he lived as Edogawa Conan—on paper and in others' minds. Even Conan himself was growing used to it, maybe even accepting it.
If Hayato wrote "Edogawa Conan" in the Death Note, would it work?
"…"
Pen tip pressed against the notebook, Hayato's curiosity deepened.
He always carried pages torn from the Death Note, tucked inside his regular notebook—writing a name would be easy, disguised as a casual note.
"Hayato-nii, you're writing my name too?" Conan blurted.
"Yeah, it's an interesting one."
"It's… alright, I guess."
Conan, who'd blurted the name in a panic back then, thought it decent enough.
But his eyes locked onto Hayato's notebook. After the Okino Yoko case, he'd dug up the Beika TV broadcast footage and learned Hayato had a habit of collecting names.
"So, Hayato-nii, you said you're bad at naming—how bad are we talking?"
"I'm curious too, Hayato-nii," Ran added, eyes wide.
"Uh…"
Hayato's expression faltered.
Under their curious stares, he seemed to weigh his options, then flipped his notebook to show them.
Edogawa Conan:
Edogawa Kobei, Edogawa Kosei
Kawadogawa Conan, Umidogawa Conan
Edogawa Korgi
"…"
"…"
One glance, and Ran and Conan were floored—Ran's eyes practically turned to dots.
Seriously?!
Conan stared at Hayato, incredulous.
Can't you channel even a sliver of that wild imagination into naming? Just a pinch?!
So all that scribbling while eyeing me was for… these?!
Conan couldn't laugh, but Ran burst out with a "pfft."
She quickly apologized. "S-Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, Hayato-nii."
"It's fine. I'm genuinely terrible at naming," Hayato said, closing the notebook.
"Everyone's got strengths and weaknesses," Eri said, barely hiding a chuckle.
She found this quirk oddly endearing on Hayato's refined face.
Ran nodded. "Yeah, it actually makes you feel more… real, Hayato-nii."
"?"
"You're so good-looking and excel at so much. You're easy to approach, but it feels almost unreal sometimes," Ran admitted, a bit shy.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, I like this side of you better."
"Have you two swapped numbers yet?" Eri cut in.
"Not yet."
Ran pulled out her phone, beaming at Hayato. "Let's exchange numbers, Hayato-nii."
"Sure, mine's—"
Under Eri's amused gaze, they swapped contacts.
Conan, stewing quietly, could only chomp on his drink's straw.
"How about dinner out tonight?" Eri suggested.
"But I prepped curry ingredients at home, and I need to cook for Dad…"
"Forget that slob. It's settled—I'll book a place—"
"Mom, next time, okay?"
"…"
Ran turned on the charm.
Eri started to protest, but Hayato spoke up. "Sorry, Aunt Eri. I've got plans later, so I might need to head out early."
"You too, Hayato? Fine, next time then."
"There's a restaurant I've been wanting to try. How about we go there?" Ran said.
"Which one?" Eri asked.
Ran grabbed her mom's hand, excitedly describing it.
Hayato smiled at the scene.
Ran only acted this carefree with Eri. Normally, she juggled cooking, chores, and school while looking after Mouri Kogoro and Conan.
Only with Eri could the sixteen-year-old let loose and be a kid.
And Conan?
He was still eyeing Hayato warily, wondering if he had designs on Ran.
"What's up? Want some cake?"
Noticing his stare, Hayato slid his untouched slice over—he wasn't in the mood for sweets today.
***
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