The sun dipped beyond the horizon, staining the sky a solemn red.
The season had changed. Autumn's crisp melancholy clung to the air, and a hush settled over the city like a held breath.
Ran Mouri's footsteps echoed beside Hayashi Yoshiki's along the dimly lit sidewalk, the two of them walking side-by-side in a moment that felt suspended between relief and unease.
"...I'm glad Mom's okay," Ran murmured.
"She is," Hayashi nodded. "Thanks to Miss Kuriyama's quick thinking—and your mom's instinct not to finish that chocolate."
Ran's gaze dropped to the pavement, her voice softening.
"When I got the call this morning, I really thought... What if something had happened to her...?"
"That won't happen."Yoshiki cut her off gently.
She looked up, startled.
"You've always had good luck, Ran Mouri. That alone is enough to protect the people around you."
"There's no logic in that, Yoshiki-nii..." she muttered, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Besides," Yoshiki continued, "I don't think the killer ever meant to actually kill Inspector Megure or your mother."
"What... do you mean?"
Yoshiki slowed his steps, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought.
"Megure was shot in the waist. A painful place, but not lethal. And the pesticide Eri-san ingested—it was an irritant, not a deadly toxin. If someone really wanted them dead, there were better ways."
He turned to her, his voice quieter.
"It feels more like the killer is hiding their real target."
"So... Dad and Officer Shiratori, they're chasing after Murakami Joe for nothing?"
"Maybe," Yoshiki said with a shrug. "Or maybe Murakami was meant to be a scapegoat all along."
And then, as if sensing her unease, he added with a smile:
"But that's their job—mine too. Yours is to smile and enjoy a peaceful evening."
Ran blinked in surprise as Yoshiki deftly changed the topic.
"Also… your outfit today looks very nice."
"Huh? Wh—where did that come from?"
"Your mother noticed it this morning. Her eyes lit up."
Ran blushed slightly.
"You're just trying to distract me."
They walked quietly for a few more paces.
"Since we have the chance, how about that ice cream I promised you back on the Sally Beth?"
"I remember," she said with a grin. "You really don't forget, do you?"
They stopped for a quick dinner—simple oden, nothing fancy.
When they returned, Yoshiki bought two ice creams and handed one to Ran.
"A little sweetness always helps the mood."
She didn't get to finish.
With a sudden motion, Hayashi Yoshiki grabbed her shoulders and threw her to the ground.
A steel arrow cut through the air and tore through Yoshiki's sleeve, leaving a thin gash on his arm.
Ran gasped in horror.
Yoshiki's eyes snapped toward the source.
A red-clad motorcyclist, face hidden behind a helmet, was already backing away. A compact hand crossbow rested in one hand. The assassin stared at Yoshiki for a moment, then tossed a sword-shaped playing card to the ground before revving the throttle and vanishing into the dusk.
"So... the target was me," Yoshiki muttered.
"Hayashi Yoshiki! Are you okay?!"
Ran scrambled up, kneeling beside him. Her voice cracked with panic as she tried to check the injury on his arm.
"It's fine. No poison. Just a scratch."
Yoshiki inspected the gash with a composed air as if it were nothing but a paper cut. He even managed a dry chuckle.
"Shame about the ice cream. Want me to buy you another?"
"Yoshiki—what are you even saying right now?!"
Ignoring his attempt to brush it off, Ran took his uninjured hand and dragged him straight back toward the hospital.
Before leaving, Yoshiki bent down and picked up the playing card sword left by the attacker—another calling card.
The nurse cleaned and bandaged his arm swiftly. The wound wasn't deep, but Ran's worry refused to fade.
Kogoro Mouri and Inspector Shiratori rushed back soon after, faces tight with disbelief.
"Damn it!" Kogoro slammed a fist against the wall. "Why go after you, Ashu!?"
"Because my name splits into eleven," Yoshiki said calmly.
"Meaning…" Conan muttered, catching on."The killer's targeting people around you, in descending order. From King to Queen, then J, 10, 9, and now you—Eleven."
"But that still doesn't explain the motive," Shiratori added."Why leave clues if he doesn't intend to kill?"
Yoshiki's eyes darkened slightly.
"It's a cover. A smokescreen. The real target is still out there—someone lower in the chain, perhaps. The rest of us? Just camouflage."
"If that's true... how do we find them?"
Yoshiki folded his arms.
"If he's following a card order, the remaining numbers—Ten to Ace—might tell us. Uncle, do you know anyone whose name might correspond to those numbers?"
Kogoro began listing names. His bartender acquaintance, a sommelier named Sawaki Kohei, was number Eight.
That was the name Yoshiki had been waiting for.
"Could you write down his full name for me, just to keep track?"
Kogoro scribbled the name on a page from Yoshiki's notebook.
What Kogoro didn't realize was that this was a very special notebook.
A page from the Death Note.
Hayashi Yoshiki stared at the name: Sawaki Kohei.
He couldn't remember the man's face—yet.
But that didn't matter.
Because Kogoro knew the man, and that was enough.
In the same flowing hand, Yoshiki added beneath the name:
"At 23:31 on September 27, after being tortured, he was sunk into the sea and suffocated to death."
Satisfied, he asked Kogoro to write the rest of the potential targets' names on normal paper, to avoid suspicion.
"A bit wasteful, isn't it?" Kogoro grumbled, glancing at the single name per page.
"Yoshiki's creative like that," Conan offered."He probably needs the space to turn this list into another mystery novel."
Yoshiki smiled at the comment.
In his head, the was already being written.