Hayashi Yoshiki drove out to pick up his date for dinner.
They went to a riverside French restaurant.
"We've reserved a window seat in advance. Thank you for your help."
"Certainly. Right this way, please."
The Tsutsu River glimmered with a unique charm at night, its calm waters flanked by the neon glow of the city.
From their table by the window, one could admire the moonlight reflected on the river's surface—tonight was truly ideal for a date.
"This place is wonderful," Reiko Shimizu exclaimed with delight. She clasped her hands together and beamed at Hayashi Yoshiki. "Thank you so much for bringing me here."
"To be honest, this is my first time here, too. So if the food turns out just average, don't blame me."
"How could I? I'm already thrilled just having dinner with Mr. Hayashi."
The waiter arrived with the menus.
Shimizu Reiko glanced shyly at Yoshiki, waiting for his attention.
She was indeed stunning.
Her long, wavy brown hair framed a beautifully made-up face. She exuded an air of refined purity—but it wasn't naive. Her delicate beauty naturally hinted at charm, making her allure impossible to ignore.
From a glance, Hayashi Yoshiki could already tell:She was a woman who cared deeply about quality of life. Her clothes, jewelry, and cosmetics all oozed expense and taste.
"Ms. Reiko, was the club you joined in college really called the Crime Research Club?"
"That's the first I've heard of such a club."
"It was mostly made up of students interested in criminal psychology," Reiko explained with a soft smile. "Some seniors had compiled detailed reports on numerous domestic cases over the past few decades, complete with crime scene photos and the motives and methods of the culprits."
"Impressive," Yoshiki said, smiling.
They ordered quickly and began chatting.
"I really admire your novels, Mr. Hayashi. Every time, I'm amazed at the cleverness of the murderer's methods…"
"Your new work especially had such a chilling atmosphere. My palms were sweating during several scenes!"
"I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it."
"I'm probably your most loyal fan!"
Their conversation flowed naturally.
Soon, the waiter brought their drinks and appetizers.
"Sometimes I wonder where your inspiration comes from," she said, sipping the berry-infused cocktail.
"Overthinking, mostly," Yoshiki replied.
"Mmm—this drink is amazing~!"
They continued discussing detective fiction.
"When it comes to mystery novels, we can't ignore Sherlock Holmes," said Reiko.
"Indeed. Sherlock Holmes, as he's known in some translations—the famed British detective and self-proclaimed authority of the field. Doyle wrote him with incredible charm."
Yoshiki smiled gently, lowering his eyes to the food on his plate. Holding his fork, he continued in a quiet, thoughtful voice:
"But personally, I prefer Professor Moriarty."
"Crime... is actually quite fascinating, don't you think?"
Reiko blinked, caught off guard.
She looked at the man before her. His expression hadn't changed. He still wore that gentle, intellectual smile.
Polished. Refined. Elegant in his suit.
But behind those deep, black eyes, something churned.
"Crime is fascinating," he repeated.
The words lingered in the air.
"Look out the window, Miss Reiko."
She turned her gaze outward.
The calm river. Orderly traffic on the highway. The quiet rhythm of urban life—comforting and predictable.
She answered hesitantly.
"Yes... It's peaceful. Ordered."
"Traffic laws, red lights, rules. Social order," Yoshiki said, sipping his drink. "Morals and laws bind people's actions. This is what they call stability."
His eyes darkened, and he smiled faintly.
"In the world of crime, there are no rules. No morals. Only strength and intellect."
"Crime isn't a craft—it's an art."
"That's how many sinners will die down there next."
"The fireworks are about to start."
What... is he saying?
Reiko's breath caught in her throat.
The gentleman sitting across from her now looked unfathomable. His eyes sparkled in the light, yet they contained no warmth.
A sharp braking sound jolted her from her daze.
Outside, a truck suddenly veered across the road, shattering the calm like a stone dropped in still water.
Vehicles swerved. Horns blared. A lightbox sign sparked violently, its wires snapping as it crashed down. People screamed.
A motorcyclist, trying to avoid the wreck, skidded and was flung toward the electrified signage.
Another truck, loaded with paint, was struck—and burst into flames.
The explosion reverberated even through the restaurant's walls.
Across the river, a small flare rose into the sky.
Then, with a crack, a brilliant red firework burst above the skyline.
Guests had already rushed to the terrace to watch the commotion. Amid the chaos, Reiko turned to see—
Hayashi Yoshiki, sipped his drink calmly.
More fireworks were launched.
On the street below—fire, screams, sirens.
In the night sky—vibrant explosions of light.
Reflected in Yoshiki's glass, chaos and beauty became one.
"It really is a refreshing drink," he murmured.
Reiko felt deaf to everything else.
The shouting, sirens, even the police calls—all of it faded away. Her world now existed in the one-meter radius surrounding this man.
"Isn't this what you wanted?"
"To escape the gaze of mediocrity? To rebel against the monotony of everyday life?"
"Your eyes tell me yes."
"You're beautiful when you look at me like that."
Reiko's breathing quickened.
His words pierced her soul.
That voice—those eyes—saw straight through her.
Her hands clutched her dress tightly.
Her heart pounded violently.
And then… she felt it.
"I admire you, Reiko."
He reached out his hand.
"Will you join to me, Hayashi Yoshiki?"
Reiko was trembling as she raised her hand, her lips forming a soft, almost purring answer:
They left the restaurant.
As they stepped out, the cool river breeze brushed her flushed cheeks. Her mind, finally grounded, registered the flashing red and blue of emergency vehicles.
Firetrucks extinguished the blaze. Police cordoned off the scene.
"Brother Hayashi? What are you doing here?" asked Inspector Megure Juzo, who had just finished giving orders.
"Dinner," Hayashi replied casually. "Right here."
Megure glanced at Reiko Shimizu, who stood silently beside Yoshiki.
Megure noticed her glassy-eyed stare, the way she clung to Hayashi, and decided not to push further.
Being handsome really did have its perks…
The scene was soon stabilized. A preliminary investigation began.
"Six fatalities confirmed. Eleven more with only minor injuries."
"All signs point to a freak accident. The truck crash caused a chain reaction. The lightbox was apparently loose…"
Hayashi didn't wait to hear more.
He politely bid farewell and guided Reiko to his car.
The silver sedan glided quietly through the streets.
The warm air inside felt heavy.
Reiko crossed her legs, her voice trembling.
"Can we… stop by my place first? I want to change."
Although they never really discussed what they'd do after dinner, Hayashi Yoshiki just smiled and drove to her apartment.
It was a luxury suite in the heart of the city.
Inside, Reiko took off her coat, revealing a beige knit sweater that hugged her full chest. Her beauty was disarming.
Yoshiki sat calmly on the sofa.
"Weren't you going to change?"
Reiko returned the smile shyly.
He reached out and touched her cheek.
She tilted her head ever so slightly into his palm.
"Your lipstick is beautiful."
"That wasn't just a compliment."
Her grin turned radiant.
A manipulative woman… But quite interesting, Yoshiki thought.
Her phone buzzed endlessly on the sofa. She ignored it.
"Thanks for the... hospitality," she whispered.
Mascara ran at the edges of her eyes. Her lips glistened.
She smiled, fox-like.
Yoshiki stroked her hair like a cat.
"You don't want to check your phone?"
"Just some worthless loser blowing up my inbox."
Probably that bootlicker Suehiko Ito.
Hayashi wasn't interested in men like that.
"Still planning to change?"
"…That's up to you, Mr. Hayashi~"