Almost a week had passed since the incident at the memorial service.
Everything was quiet.
The Black Organization was unusually calm, and Hayashi Yoshiki hadn't received any updates either.
It was Haibara Ai who suddenly approached him.
"Cointreau... the person who pretended to be me on the rooftop of the Beika Hotel that day—who was she?"
Looking straight ahead, Hayashi answered flatly.
Haibara turned toward him.
"She was a female thief—one who had committed numerous crimes. I used her to create the illusion that you'd been killed by Gin. It was the only way to make the Organization stop hunting you.""Unfortunately... it didn't work."
"What? Do you feel guilty that someone died for you—even though she deserved it?"
"I never planned to tell you this."
Stopping at a red light, Hayashi sighed.
"Conan told you, didn't he?"
"He can be... troublesome sometimes."
"Listen carefully, Shiho." His voice softened. "I saved your life. That makes me responsible for it. I'll do what I did with that woman again if I have to—as many times as needed. Without hesitation. As long as you're safe."
It was the first time she'd heard him refer to himself like that.
Haibara Ai's heart was a storm of emotion.
She'd been thinking about that night at Beika Hotel endlessly:
The woman pretending to be her...Gin's sudden appearance...Cointreau's role in it all...
Guilt. Relief. Confusion. Unease.A swirl of feelings that had left her dazed these past few days.
But more than anything...
Why? Why would he go to such lengths for me?
As if reading her thoughts, Hayashi spoke again.
"Because you're the only one who understands what I'm going through, Shiho."
"You and I—we're alike."
"The first time I saw you in the lab, I could tell. You didn't belong in the Organization. Your face said it all. You were brilliant, yes—but crushed. You even looked a little angry when you saw me."
Hayashi gave a faint smile.
Outside, rain splattered the windshield. The traffic light ahead glowed red, distorted in the raindrops—then wiped clean by the wipers.
"I don't know why.""But I wanted to help you."
"Have you ever wondered why I keep telling you to smile more?"
"Because you're different. You've been trapped under the Organization's shadow, but you haven't been broken. The world isn't all gray, Shiho—there are still things worth seeing."
"Honestly... I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."
"If you still hate me for using someone else's life, then when we cross this intersection... let's say goodbye."
His tone was calm, soft—almost gentle.
His delicate features remained still, unreadable.
Haibara shook her head violently.
"No! I don't think that at all—!"
"I just... I just don't think you have to go so far for me.""I don't even know what kind of risks you're taking."
Unlike Conan, whose sense of justice could sometimes feel overwhelming, Haibara Ai, raised in the Black Organization, was used to death—and had learned to live with it.
Hayashi reached over and gently messed up her hair, placing a hand on her head.
The light turned green.
For a moment, silence filled the car again.
Haibara glanced sideways, secretly watching him.
He noticed my resentment the first time we met...Was it my misunderstanding back then?
Maybe... maybe she almost smiled—if only she could.
"By the way, Edogawa has been investigating your editor, Asamiya Nanae."
"And he didn't find anything, right?"
It was all part of the plan.
The lie Haibara told Conan was that she fainted and was taken upstairs by Asamiya Nanae to rest. But in reality, Nanae had done no such thing.
If Conan dug deeper, he'd only find conflicting stories, concluding that someone had impersonated Asamiya to protect Haibara.
If someone could pretend to be Miyano Shiho, why not someone else too?
Just as Hayashi was dropping Haibara off near Miyano Akemi's safehouse, a message buzzed on his black cell phone.
"Do you have time to meet, Cointreau?"
Then, another message came seconds later:
"My code name is Vermouth. Gin should have told you about me."
Vermouth...So you've finally come forward?
Cointreau: "Time? Location?"
Vermouth: "Tonight at 19:30. Let's meet downstairs at the Rice Flower Hotel."
Without delay, Hayashi forwarded the message to Gin.
Meanwhile, at a safehouse, Gin, who had just laid down to rest, opened his eyes the moment his phone buzzed.
Reading the message, he clicked his tongue.
Gin: "That woman's probably trying to recruit you into the Intelligence Division. Don't trust her."
After sending the warning, Gin didn't stop there—he called directly.
"It's me. You agreed to meet Vermouth?"
"Yeah. I'm a little curious about what she wants."
"There's no need. Don't go. Let her wait."
"She's a colleague, Gin. Isn't it rude to completely ignore her?"
"Tch... don't believe a word she says."
"You don't seem to like her very much."
"The intel team is full of mystics and manipulators who hide in the shadows and pull strings. If you join them, Rum will likely use your identity to siphon intel. Sure, you'll get access to more information—but fewer chances to kill."
Half true. Half false.
Cointreau was too competent for Rum to ignore.
"The head of the intelligence division."He didn't mention that Rum was also the Organization's second-in-command.
"Sounds like a tough one... Got it."
Hayashi pretended not to hear the part where Gin practically called him a serial killer.
Truthfully... he was interested in the intelligence team.If he joined, he might gain access to confidential intel—and maybe even learn Rum's real name.
But everything had a price.
Joining the intel team would mean more oversight, less autonomy, and navigating the unknown. Worse, Gin clearly didn't trust them—and that could be dangerous.
A "job transfer" could be very risky indeed.