The higher you gaze at the night sky, the more you feel the depth of night.
Just the two of them.
No distant sirens, no voices from the crowd below. The smoke hadn't reached them yet. The world felt like it had stopped.
"I just realized it's a full moon tonight."
Leaning against the wall beside the shattered bridge, Hayashi Yoshiki gazed out into the sky, voice calm and detached—as if none of this chaos surrounded them.
Next to him, Ran sat with her arms wrapped around her knees.
But her thoughts weren't on the moon.
"If… if you hadn't turned back to save me..."
Her voice cracked slightly.
She remembered it vividly—how he could've escaped. If he hadn't come back for her, he'd be safe by now, probably sipping water and catching his breath with the others.
"Are you really going to start blaming yourself now?"
His voice was soft. Warm. Grounding.
"We're just stuck. That doesn't mean this is how it ends."
She'd always been strong—but kindness sometimes made her vulnerable. Blame sat heavy on her shoulders.
"Let's just wait here for now."
"I'm sure Uncle Mouri and Inspector Megure are doing everything they can."
She had earlier spotted a fire hose behind the extinguisher box and even considered trying to swing down with it, maybe break in through a lower window. But Yoshiki had gently but firmly shot that idea down.
It wasn't realistic. Not with two people. And not with the kind of weight and height they were facing.
Suddenly, thick black smoke began to roll down the corridor.
Hayashi Yoshiki loosened his collar, tugging off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt slightly.
"This heat's getting annoying. I'm going to sweat my hair out."
"…You're worried about your hair right now?"
"Come on, haven't you noticed? I always care about my image."
Then his phone buzzed.
He picked up—expression relaxing at first, then sharpening.
Gin's voice came through the speaker like a blade:
"What's the situation?"
"…Not hurt. But the situation's pretty bad."
"I'm mobilizing a helicopter. ETA: twenty minutes."
"Hmm... There's a fire here already. And besides..."He looked over the broken bridge."A chopper can't land here. Even approaching might be too risky. Ladders won't help either."
Gin's face, somewhere far off, twisted in restrained fury.
This was his screw-up.
He had pressed the detonation button that might just kill one of the Organization's most talented members—with his own hands.
Cointreau wasn't expendable.
He was worth more than half the Organization's grunts combined. Gin had tolerated him, even respected him. And now?
He'd walked him into a burning trap.
Meanwhile, in the front seat, Vodka was having a breakdown.
I'm the one who hit the switch.
If Cointreau died here, would Gin ever forgive him? Would Cointreau?
Would he come back for revenge?
Cold sweat rolled down his neck, soaking his collar. He didn't dare say a word.
Gin's eyes were scanning his phone. Cold. Furious. Calculating.
He was ready to send in an armed helicopter if needed.
Exposure didn't matter anymore.
If he could save Hayashi Yoshiki, he would.
He was that valuable.
"But… if you could get me a parachute, that might work."
Gin didn't hesitate. The call ended immediately.
Vodka held his breath.
And then exhaled… just a little.
Back at the tower, Inspector Megure was on the line too.
"We're sending a rescue chopper! Hold tight!"
Hayashi Yoshiki gave the same answer as before:
"We'll try. But a parachute is probably the only way we're getting out of here."
He then looked down at his watch.
Twenty minutes?Plenty.
Because he had already prepared for this.
[Kisaragi Hosui][Cause of death: Burned][March 21, 20:53 — Entered Room A2, 45th floor of Twin Towers][March 21, 21:37:42 — Consumed by flames]
[Kuto Daichi][Cause of death: Burned][March 21, 20:53 — Entered Room A1, 45th floor of Twin Towers][March 21, 21:45:42 — Consumed by flames]
If the fire was going to reach their part of the building, it had to first pass through A1 and A2. He had written their fates down in the Death Note—and as long as that timeline held, he and Ran would be safe until then.
He had traded two expendable lives for time.
And he didn't feel guilty.
Kisaragi had already made peace with death the moment he refused help.
He would've died anyway—in prison, in regret, in darkness.
This way, at least, he served a purpose.
Even if Gin and Megure hadn't called, Yoshiki had a dozen other plans. He was never going to die here.
He turned to Ran, gently:
He looked up at the sky once more.
The moonlight shimmered brightly over the city.
"Ran's always been lucky. This time, I'll trust in your luck too.""We'll make it. I promise."