Shuichi Hayashi finished hanging the damp bedding on the balcony, the morning sun casting long shadows across the apartment. When he stepped back inside, he found Hiiro Eri sprawled across the guest room bed, fast asleep without so much as a blanket over her.
"Still saying you're not a kid…" Shuichi muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
Shaking his head, he gently draped a blanket over her, then pressed a hand to her forehead. Still warm—too warm. He rummaged through the medicine box, fishing out a cooling patch and carefully placing it on her brow.
After closing the guest room door, Shuichi stood in the living room, momentarily at a loss. With Eri in this state, he couldn't exactly leave her alone all day. A glance at the clock told him it was still early for lunch, but cooking seemed like a good way to pass the time.
He poked around Eri's kitchen, opening the fridge to find a chaotic mess—cans of beer, instant coffee, and a slew of ready-to-eat meals, but barely any fresh ingredients for a proper dish. Even with the groceries he'd bought that morning, it wasn't enough. Sighing, he decided a quick trip to the supermarket was in order.
Just then, the living room phone shrilled.
It could be Eri's parents checking on their sick daughter, Shuichi thought, picking up the receiver. "Hello?"
Silence. Then a click as the caller hung up.
Wrong number? Shuichi frowned, glancing at the caller ID on the fancy corded phone. The number looked familiar—too familiar. Wasn't that the payphone at the nearby community park?
Back in the day, he and Kogoro Mouri would call Eri from that same payphone, too lazy to trek to her apartment to fetch her for playtime.
The memory stirred something nostalgic in Shuichi. Since it was still early, he decided to swing by the supermarket for lunch and dinner ingredients, then take a detour to the park before heading back to Eri's place.
Yesterday's downpour had given way to clear skies, and with it being the weekend, the community park was alive with kids running wild. Shuichi, groceries in hand, found a bench and settled down, watching the children's carefree chaos with a pang of nostalgia.
In elementary school, reborn into this world, Shuichi had found the park's childish games dull. But Kogoro and Eri? They thought he was just too aloof, always dragging him along to join in.
His gaze drifted to the corner of the park, where the old payphone stood. A balding middle-aged man was flipping through the phonebook tethered to the booth. Back then, without smartphones, people jotted down numbers in little notebooks—or relied on public phonebooks like the one hanging there, listing nearby residents' names, numbers, and addresses. Some even included extra details for work.
The man thumbed through a few pages and started dialing. Shuichi gave him a passing glance, ready to sink back into his childhood memories, when a child's wail cut through the air from the nearby sandpit.
Yesterday's rain had left the sand damp and sticky—perfect for building castles. Two kids, a boy and a girl around four or five, had been happily constructing a fortress moments ago. Now, the boy was sobbing loudly.
Shuichi wasn't one to meddle, but the crying grew louder, and no adults seemed to notice. With a sigh, he walked over and crouched in front of the pair, offering a warm smile. "Weren't you two having fun just a minute ago? What's with the tears?"
"Big brother, I-I'm not a bad guy! Don't let the police take me!" the boy hiccupped through his sobs.
"Huh?" Shuichi blinked, thrown off. "Who's talking about police?"
"Her!" The boy pointed at the slightly older girl, who stood with her arms crossed. "She said her dad's a cop and that I'm a bad guy who's gonna get locked up!"
"He knocked down my castle that I worked so hard on!" the girl huffed, cheeks puffed out in indignation. "He's a bad guy, and I'm telling my dad!"
"It wasn't on purpose!" the boy wailed, his cries growing louder. "I'm not a bad guy!"
Shuichi's head throbbed as the kids' squabble unfolded. In his experience, trying to soothe a crying child often backfired—they'd just cry harder. Thinking fast, he dug into his grocery bag and pulled out a peach he'd just bought. "Hey, want this?"
"…Yeah," the boy sniffled, eyeing the fruit timidly.
"Promise big brother you'll stop crying, and it's yours. Deal?" Shuichi coaxed.
"Deal," the boy mumbled, nodding obediently.
Shuichi grabbed a tissue, wiped the boy's sandy hands clean, and was about to hand over the peach when the girl piped up. "You can't eat that! My dad says never take stuff from strangers. He might be a bad guy, and if you eat it, he'll kidnap you, and you'll never see your mom and dad again!"
Her words sent the boy's eyes wide with fear. He stared at Shuichi, then burst into even louder sobs.
Shuichi shot the girl an exasperated look. She stood there, chest puffed out, clearly proud of her warning. "Hey, little miss, what's your name?" he asked, forcing a smile. "Wanna be friends with big brother?"
"No way! You don't look like a good guy!" she declared, shutting him down.
"Where do I not look like a good guy?" Shuichi asked, half-amused, half-frustrated.
"Well…" The girl faltered, tilting her head as she struggled to find an answer.
"I'm just talking to you two because I don't want him crying his eyes out," Shuichi explained patiently. "You don't want your friend upset, right?"
"Yeah," she nodded, conceding. "He's super annoying when he cries."
"So let him have the peach, alright? It'll cheer him up."
"No way! Dad says strangers' food is off-limits!"
Shuichi groaned inwardly. Back to square one. Standing up, he fixed the boy with a mock-stern glare. "Alright, no more crying! I know cops too, kid. Keep this up, and I'll haul you to jail myself—no need for her dad!"
The boy yelped, stumbling back onto the damp sand with a splat. His wails grew deafening.
"You are a bad guy! Bullying kids like that!" The girl stepped bravely in front of her friend, pointing accusingly. "My dad's Officer Sato from Criminal Affairs Division One! He won't let a bad guy like you get away!"
Officer Sato?
Sato was Japan's most common surname—some professor even predicted that in five hundred years, every Japanese person would be a Sato. But in the Criminal Affairs Division One, there was only one Officer Sato that Shuichi could think of: Sato Masayoshi.
And Sato Masayoshi's daughter…
"You're Miwako Sato, aren't you?" Shuichi ventured, raising an eyebrow.
"How'd you know that?" The girl's eyes widened, startled. "I didn't even tell you!"
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! This chapter's up on Webnovel first recommendation round—please keep following and vote for us!
(End of Chapter)