"Night Baron? That book's been all over TV lately," Hiiro Eri said, picking up the novel and flipping it open. Her eyes caught the inscription, and she read aloud, "'To Hayashi-kun, who roped me into catching thieves'? What's this about?"
"Oh, while I was out getting groceries, I ran into a couple of thieves casing the community park," Shuichi Hayashi explained casually, summarizing the encounter. "…Afterward, Yusaku Kudo wanted to base a character on me in his next book. I said sure, and he gave me this as a gift."
"Another run-in with thieves?" Eri's expression turned odd. "Are you just cursed with bad luck, or is Japan's crime rate tanking that fast?"
"Bit of both, I guess," Shuichi said with a wry shrug. The past two days had thrown more chaos his way than the entire previous year. "You know how novels always describe the protagonist's life? 'The gears of fate begin to turn, and the hero steps onto his stage.' Maybe I'm the star of some book."
"Only a deranged author would make you the protagonist," Eri shot back, rolling her eyes at her childhood friend.
"Dissing the main character? Guess you're opting out of the heroine role," Shuichi teased. "Fine, I'll go find a new leading lady."
"Who? Yukiko Fujimine?" Eri huffed, her tone sharp. "You two sure hit it off fast. Known her for, what, two days, and you're already cuddling?"
"Eri, don't slander my good name!" Shuichi seized the chance to clear things up. "Yesterday, my jacket smelled like her because it was pouring rain. Yukiko got soaked running from her apartment to Mihama Station. As her classmate, I couldn't just let her shiver, so I lent her my jacket. That's it."
Eri frowned, thinking back. Shuichi's jacket had been damp inside, streaked with water stains. The realization eased the knot in her chest, and the irritation she'd been nursing since last night melted away. "Well, no wonder I caught a cold!" she said, puffing out her cheeks in mock anger. "You draped a wet jacket over me!"
Before Shuichi could respond, she burst into giggles.
"Feeling better? Then finish that chicken soup," Shuichi urged. "The izakaya's waiting for you to collect their cash."
"This afternoon, I can—" Eri started, but Shuichi cut her off. "No way. You're staying home and resting all day. The izakaya can wait until you're better tomorrow."
After lunch, Shuichi prepped Eri's dinner—something she could reheat easily—before heading back to the Mouri family's building. As he climbed to the second floor, he spotted his friend Kogoro Mouri hurrying down from the third floor, looking ready to bolt.
"Hey, Shuichi, you're back?" Kogoro gave an awkward chuckle, his expression uneasy. "I'm, uh, heading out to play some baseball. I'll be back for the shop's opening this afternoon."
Before Shuichi could reply, Kogoro scampered down the stairs.
"What's with him?" Shuichi muttered, eyeing Kogoro's retreating figure. Shaking his head, he pulled out his key and opened the second-floor apartment door.
"Whoa…"
The moment he stepped inside, something felt off. The place was spotless—floors gleaming, surfaces dusted, even the trash can emptied. "Kogoro? No way, he doesn't even clean his own room," Shuichi mused. "Mrs. Mouri? Her health's too frail for this. Eri's been sick all day. That leaves…"
His heart sank as he rushed to his bedroom and flung open the door. His worst fears were confirmed.
Last night, Kogoro had borrowed some questionable magazines, dragging Shuichi's carefully hidden collection out from under the bed and scattering them across the floor. Exhausted last night and in a hurry to check on Eri this morning, Shuichi hadn't tidied up.
Now, his precious stash—years in the making—was gone. He dropped to his knees, peering under the bed. Empty. Not even the cardboard box remained.
Three years of treasures… gone, Shuichi thought, on the verge of tears.
Then he noticed a note on his desk:
Onii-chan, I cleaned your apartment for you, and I washed your dirty clothes—they're drying on the rooftop. Don't forget to bring them in tonight.
Mom and Dad heard about you helping the police solve a case and keep praising you. I'm proud too, but please be careful, Onii-chan. Some criminals are dangerous.
Wan-chan's doing great at home, though he keeps sitting by your bedroom door. He must miss you.
Let's be clear, Onii-chan—it's Wan-chan who misses you, not Reiko.
Oh, and I confiscated all those unhealthy magazines. Study hard and stop looking at that trashy stuff!
—Your sister, Reiko
Of course it was you, my adorable little sister… Shuichi groaned, collapsing onto the bed.
Reiko Kujo, his cousin in this life, was destined to become a star prosecutor at the Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office, the "Madonna of the courtroom." After losing his parents over a decade ago, Shuichi had been taken in by his aunt's family. His aunt and uncle treated him like their own, and Reiko, four years his junior, had been his shadow since childhood.
Now in sixth grade, Reiko was already a straight-A student, influenced by her prosecutor parents to be meticulous and rule-abiding. At school, she was a discipline committee member, upholding rules with an iron will. At home, she turned her scrutiny on Shuichi, constantly correcting her "Onii-chan's" bad habits.
When Shuichi decided to move out to the Mouri family's building, Reiko had been the first to object, only relenting after he and her parents insisted. Even then, she'd warned she'd drop by to check on him.
He hadn't expected her to show up just three days later, cleaning his place, washing his clothes, and wiping out his magazine collection in one fell swoop.
My guard was down, Shuichi sighed. At the Kujo household, he'd hidden his racier magazines in textbook covers or tucked them into bookshelves to avoid awkward questions from his aunt and uncle—or Reiko's confiscations. Living alone, he'd gotten sloppy, and now his "treasures" had been obliterated by his meddling little sister.
No wonder Kogoro had looked so shifty. He must've seen Reiko hauling away the magazines.
Author's Note: Reiko Kujo is the version for me—so awesome! Keep following and voting, everyone!
(End of Chapter)