It was a peaceful afternoon at sea. Ran, Sonoko, and Kosaka Natsumi had come to invite Hayashi Yoshiki to join them for tea in the ship's lounge. Conan tagged along, arms folded and cheeks puffed in suspicion—as usual.
Just after Yoshiki stepped out of his cabin, Sonoko scurried back to her room to change clothes. The cause? Her enthusiastic reaction to seeing Yoshiki shirtless had left an unfortunate nosebleed on her top.
Once seated at the tea table, Natsumi Kosaka took a sip of Earl Grey and—unlike the high school girls across from her—spoke freely:
"I didn't expect Mr. Hayashi to have such a… well-maintained physique."
Sonoko nearly spat her tea in agreement, nodding so hard her earrings jingled. Ran gave a small, embarrassed smile, cheeks tinged with pink.
So that's what the fortune meant by 'something wonderful,' Ran thought, half amused, half mortified.
"Just the right amount," Natsumi added, savoring her tea.
"What are you talking about?" Seiran Hoshi, also present, looked curiously between them.
"Oh, nothing—just that Brother Hayashi was mid-change when we stopped by his room," Sonoko said casually.
"Ahhh, how unfortunate I missed that…" Seiran Hoshi sighed, resting her cheek in her palm. "Guess we'll have to rely on fortune next time. Perhaps when Ran draws the same lucky number?"
"Sonoko!" Ran gave her friend a playful whack as her face went bright red.
Meanwhile, Conan sat glumly on the sofa, stuffing two biscuits into his mouth. Hayashi Yoshiki really is a weird guy… why is he so admired, anyway?
He swallowed and asked the question that had been bothering him since last night:
"Hey, Yoshiki-nii… why didn't you chase after Kaito Kid yesterday?"
Yoshiki sipped his tea calmly.
"I was enjoying the night view of Osaka."
Conan stared in disbelief.
He and Hattori Heiji had nearly risked their necks chasing Kaito Kid, hoping to beat Hayashi Yoshiki at his own game—only to learn the man hadn't even bothered?
"I believe in you and Heiji-san. You two are capable enough on your own. Besides… once the code was cracked and the police had mobilized, it felt a bit unfair to Kid."
"It's more interesting when it's a true one-on-one duel."
The table went quiet. Even Conan was speechless.
So he really does know who I am... and still calls me capable?
"Still," said Seiran Hoshi, "you cracked Kid's code so easily. That was impressive."
"Not quite 'easy.' I had to puzzle over it secretly, far from prying eyes."
Yoshiki shifted the conversation subtly.
"By the way, Ms. Seiran… are you of Russian descent? Your eyes are the same striking gray as Ms. Kosaka's. Quite beautiful."
"Ah, yes. My heritage is mixed—Chinese and Russian. I inherited these eyes from my grandmother."
"Fascinating. I've always been interested in Chinese history and culture."
"Then we must talk more, Mr. Hayashi," Seiran Hoshi purred, her eyes narrowing with amusement.
Despite being a notorious international sniper, she was still a woman, and she knew how to appreciate charm when she saw it. Just like Chianti, who continued to send Hayashi flirty threats over text.
But Hayashi had his own motives. He was trying to learn Seiran Hoshi's real name—a necessity if he ever needed to write it in the Death Note. "Seiran Hoshi" was a rearranged pseudonym derived from "Raspu-Jing," a nod to Rasputin, and therefore useless for his purposes.
"If there's a chance," he said politely, "I'd love to chat."
Cards, Luck, and Silent Calculations
After tea, they decided to play a game of Joker draw. Sonoko fetched a deck of cards with great enthusiasm.
It quickly became clear: Ran's luck was absurdly good. She almost never picked the Joker, and even when she did, the next player immediately took it from her. Watching closely, Hayashi Yoshiki began subtly guiding the flow of the game, placing the Joker in spots Ran was least likely to draw from.
"Hey," Sonoko finally realized, "every time I get the Joker, Yoshiki-nii never draws it!"
"That's because he's watching where you put it," Conan muttered, sipping juice.
"But I shuffle the cards after!"
"The number of shuffles, the card thickness… he's still figuring it out."
Hayashi Yoshiki laughed.
"Don't look at me like that. I can be quite competitive."
"Too much! This time I'm shuffling behind my back!"
Sonoko turned away and shuffled blindly. When she held out two cards, Yoshiki leaned back and asked:
"Ran, which one should I pick?"
"Eh!?" Ran blinked. "Um… the left?"
"Ran!" Sonoko hissed.
"Hah, I can't break your friendship over a card," Yoshiki chuckled. "I'll take the right one."
"Red Joker," he announced.
Once again, Ran had miraculously avoided the Joker—even by proxy.
Yoshiki narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.
Interesting. Ran's luck isn't just good… it might be manipulable.
What would happen, he wondered, if he subtly leveraged her luck via the Death Note?
He tested it again, placing the Joker in a spot calculated based on Kosaka Natsumi's card-drawing tendencies.
But before the next round could begin, Hanchuan Ryū wandered into the lounge with his camera. Seeing Yoshiki, he sneered, then turned sharply and walked out.
"What's his deal?" Sonoko muttered.
Hayashi Yoshiki remained silent, watching Ryū's retreating figure with a neutral expression.
This man… In the original ending, he never made it to the castle.
Perhaps it's time I adjusted the script.