"Thank you for your support. You've worked hard."
A gentle, clear voice.
Even with her eyes closed, Sonoko Suzuki could tell—it belonged to a handsome man!
Clutching the books she'd just purchased, her heart thumped wildly as the line in front of her shortened. Her turn was coming soon!
Sonoko was nearly trembling with excitement.
Finally, the person ahead of her stepped away with their signed book, and she stepped up to the table.
"Hello."
Eitan smiled.
So handsome!!!
Sonoko screamed internally.
She had never seen a boy like this—his looks were unreal.
Polished, elegant, and quietly dazzling. His black hair gleamed softly under the lights. He wore a suit and carried himself with a calm, refined demeanor. His smile was gentle, and his face was… beautiful.
Not feminine—just beautiful. Like a breathtaking view that made people instinctively exclaim, "How beautiful."
Was he a fairy? An elf?
If he weren't wearing a suit, Sonoko would've thought he'd stepped right out of one of her fantasy romance novels.
"Please, sign for me!"
"Of course. But… did you really buy this many?"
"Yes! I'm a loyal fan of Hayashida Yoshiki-sensei!"
"Thank you."
Eitan took the stack from her. Six books in total.
Before signing, he smiled and said:
"Sorry... My right hand is getting a bit sore. Would it be alright if I used my left? My handwriting is still decent."
Eitan had practiced left-handed writing in case he ever needed to use the Death Note under unusual circumstances.
Hearing this, Sonoko was instantly charmed by his dedication.
"No problem! Please go ahead!"
"Alright."
Eitan signed swiftly.
It's worth noting: when signing his pen name, he always intentionally altered two strokes—precautions born of habit. To fans, this just seemed like a quirky stylistic touch.
"Here you go."
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome. Thanks again for your support. That line must've been exhausting—here, have some of my favorite candies."
Mmm mmm mmm!!
Sonoko nearly fainted on the spot from the sweetness of both his voice and gesture. Still, she maintained her composure just enough to grab some candy and step aside.
Next in line was Ran Mouri, who had only come along to accompany her friend.
"Hello…"
She nervously placed her book on the table.
"Nice to meet you. Is it alright if I call you… Ran?"
"Eh?"
Ran blinked in surprise.
Beside her, Sonoko's jaw dropped.
Behind her, Shinichi Kudo immediately narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
Luckily, Eitan quickly explained with a smile:
"Surprised? Actually, I'm related to Auntie Eri. So, technically… I'm your cousin."
"Mom's… cousin?!"
Ran was stunned.
Even more excited than Ran was Sonoko, who was now mentally calculating whether she had a shot with him by friendship association.
Ran remained curious, but with the line moving quickly, she simply accepted her signed book and stepped aside.
Next up was Shinichi Kudo, looking less than pleased.
"Your book's not bad," he began bluntly, "but there's a part in The Murder in the House of the Stranger that doesn't make sense. Wakaba wants to elope with Ryuichi, who's impersonating Odagiri. There's no need for murder—wouldn't that just complicate the plan?"
"Shinichi…"
Ran tugged his sleeve, clearly embarrassed. His tone made it obvious—he was jealous.
Eitan caught the subtle shift in atmosphere but merely smiled.
"You raise a good point, Kudo-kun. But consider this: what if Ryuichi's revenge list included his biological father? Wakaba might have begged him to spare her father and offered to do anything in return. Ryuichi, pretending to agree, used that to manipulate her into helping."
"…I see."
Shinichi said nothing more, taking his signed copy and walking off.
Ran hesitated for a moment, wanting to say goodbye, but the assistant was already ushering them out. She simply waved.
Eitan returned the gesture with a soft smile, then quickly turned his attention back to the line.
A three-hour signing was no joke.
Throughout the event, Editor Asamiya Nanae insisted on regular breaks for him. Still, by the time it ended, it was almost 7 PM.
Only a few dozen fans remained.
"You've worked hard, Eita-sensei. Please sign this for me."
"Of course. Thank you for your support."
Eitan accepted the book, but the fan in front of him caught his attention—she wore sunglasses and a mask. Something about her voice was oddly familiar.
Just as he was pondering, the bookstore assistant whispered beside him, "Yoko… Okino-san?"
"What?! Yoko Okino?!"
"Isn't she that top idol?!"
The room buzzed with whispers.
Sure enough, Yoko Okino, the wildly popular idol with countless fans across Japan, calmly removed her glasses and mask, revealing her unmistakable face.
With a kind smile, she gestured for the crowd to quiet down and assured them she'd sign autographs for everyone later. Then, with grace, she turned to face Eitan like any other fan.
"It's an honor," he said as he signed.
At the same time, he noticed someone near the corner of the room taking photos.
Judging by the angle and setup, they had clearly been positioned there from the start.
He didn't react, just took note.
Once the final signatures were done, Editor Asamiya hurried over with a bottle of water.
"You've worked hard, Eitan-sensei."
"Hm. I'm just glad it went well."
Asamiya smiled. "So... what are your thoughts? A celebrity like Yoko Okino being your fan?"
Eitan looked over at Yoko, now surrounded by her fans, kindly signing books. He also noticed a man standing beside her, calmly guiding the crowd.
Then he turned to Asamiya and said, "Honestly… I'm a bit embarrassed. I didn't expect the publishing house to invite her."
"You noticed?"
"It's unusual for an idol to show up at an event like this with just a manager. And that photographer from earlier? Her manager didn't stop him at all."
"I see... You caught all that?"
Asamiya blinked, clearly impressed.
After things quieted down, Yoko's manager approached and handed Eitan a business card.
"Hello. I'm Yamagishi Sakae, Yoko's manager. I look forward to working with you."
---
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Sharp gunshots echoed through the underground shooting range.
"Reload. Keep going."
Eitan followed the instructor's order, swiftly ejecting the empty magazine from the M9 in his hands and loading fresh rounds into it.
"Faster!"
The coach barked with a stern face, arms folded.
Eitan didn't wait for another order. He slammed the magazine back in, chambered a round, raised the pistol, and fired.
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