"Sorry for the wait, Yoshiki-kun."
Yoko Okino came running over, her expression glowing with delight.
As she slipped into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt, she smiled and leaned slightly toward Hayashi Yoshiki, whispering:
"Yoshiki-kun, do you want some water? I got orange juice from the vending machine."
"Thanks, that's perfect."
Yoshiki accepted the drink and glanced at her makeup—meticulous, the lipstick fresh and glistening. It must have been reapplied just moments ago.
"Did the shoot go well today?"
"Yes! I finished all the scheduled scenes. Everyone kept complimenting me!"
"Then I'm sure your performance was exceptional."
"It's not that amazing..."
Yoko blushed lightly, averting her gaze with a shy smile.
She looked over at Yoshiki, who was focused on the road, her gaze softening.
"Nothing. It's just... isn't it a bit early to head to dinner?"
"Yes, so I thought we could take a little drive first. But more importantly—Yoko hasn't told me where the restaurant is yet."
Only then did Yoko realize her oversight.
She quickly, bashfully shared the location, then asked curiously:
"What were you up to today, Yoshiki-kun?"
"I went to see a psychiatrist."
"Surprised? I was diagnosed with something called 'time disorientation' today."
As he explained his symptoms while keeping his eyes on the road, Yoko listened with genuine concern.
When he finished, she leaned forward, looking straight at him.
"...That sounds really tough for you, Yoshiki-kun."
"But if the doctor says it's not serious, then I'm sure you'll get better soon."
In truth, Yoshiki didn't see it as a problem. He believed the "time distortion" had begun around the time Shinichi Kudo shrank—when the plot of this world truly began. If the story had no end, then neither would this peculiar stasis in time.
Which, in a sense, meant eternal life.
He didn't share that thought out loud.
Rush hour traffic made sightseeing a chore, so Yoshiki and Yoko soon arrived at the Chinese restaurant she'd mentioned before.
"You two have reserved a private room. Please follow me."
Due to her public identity, dining in the main hall wasn't an option. Even with only two guests, they were placed in a large, round private room that could easily seat a dozen.
"Not exactly a romantic setting," Yoshiki said with a playful tone.
Yoko laughed, choosing to sit beside him rather than across the vast table.
"The dumplings I had here last time were amazing."
"Then I definitely need to try them today."
"Oh, and they have sweet apricot wine too—but you're driving, so..."
"Feel free to enjoy it. I'll stick with tea."
Ordering didn't take long.
Yoko went ahead and ordered a glass of apricot wine. As soon as she took a sip, her cheeks turned pink.
"Too bad I can't toast with you, Yoshiki-kun..." she murmured with a gentle smile. "Maybe next time we can take a taxi?"
Already thinking about next time?
Yoshiki studied her beautiful, joyful face. She truly was a charming woman—an idol with warmth, elegance, and just enough boldness to shine in private moments.
"Then let's plan for somewhere more atmospheric next time."
"Mm..." she nodded quietly, hiding her smile behind the wine glass.
Soon, the food arrived.
Yoko went straight for the dumplings she'd been craving.
As she lifted one carefully on her spoon, Yoshiki called out softly:
"You mean the red one?"
"Yeah. In China, I think it's illegal not to dip xiaolongbao in vinegar."
He laughed at her wide-eyed expression.
She pouted playfully but obediently tried dipping her dumpling. The vinegar, infused with slivers of pickled red ginger, brought a refreshing kick to the dish.
"Wow... this is delicious!"
Yoshiki agreed. The food was excellent. It even sparked nostalgia—this place captured flavors he hadn't tasted in ages.
After dinner, they headed back to the car.
Even during the short walk from the restaurant, Yoko had to keep her sunglasses and hat on. Only once they were back in the vehicle did she relax.
Yoshiki glanced over at her.
"Is Yoko really full?"
"Yes. I have to watch my figure, after all."
"That means you're satisfied with how you look now, right? Then Yoko's figure must be flawless."
"Well, I am pretty confident."
Yoko chuckled, not shy at all—just proud.
Girls with a hint of narcissism could be irresistibly charming.
"So, where should we go next—"
Ding-ling-ling~ Ding-ling-ling~
She quickly raised a finger to her lips, signaling Yoshiki to stay quiet.
"Ah... but I'm out right now. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"...Fine. I'll come now."
After she hung up, her smile faded.
Before she could speak, Yoshiki asked gently:
"Yeah... Sorry, Yoshiki-kun. I thought I could get away for the night, but they just gave me another scene to shoot."
"It's all right. Work comes first."
"Still, it's a shame..."
"Let's plan for your next day off then."
Yoko didn't hesitate.
Once they reached her agency building, she leaned over and smiled.
"Thanks for tonight, Yoshiki-kun. I really had a good time."
And with that, she slipped back inside.
Yoshiki didn't rush home.
It was still early. He took a longer route back, idly letting the city pass by—until something caught his eye.
His tires screeched as he slammed on the brakes, causing the car to lurch.
He quickly shifted into reverse, backed up several meters, rolled down the window and called out:
"What are you two doing here?"
Standing at the alley's edge were the infamous duo:
Fat and Tall. No-Brain and Unhappy. Gin's underlings.
—And they looked like trouble.