A few more days passed, and in the blink of an eye, it was Sunday again.
Shimizu Koji had started to notice how chaotic time felt lately. Sometimes, that wasn't a good thing—he'd just lived through four or five Mondays in a row.
If he didn't consciously remind himself from time to time, his sense of time might quietly be rewritten, adapting to this strange, distorted timeline without him even noticing.
The North Star Club.
As night slowly fell, neon lights flickered to life around the entrance and signboard—pink, red, blue, purple—mostly darker hues, deliberately chosen to create an intimate, ambiguous atmosphere.
Outside the alley, the main street bustled with people. Those who stepped inside, however, were mostly office ladies just off work, along with the occasional mature woman and a handful of men.
At least on the surface, the North Star Club was run very properly.
It looked just like an ordinary bar.
Inside, a lively disco track ended. The dancers on stage and the patrons in the dance floor dispersed in an orderly fashion.
The air carried a blend of perfume and alcohol, but the venue was spacious enough that the scent was only faint—not unpleasant, but rather adding a subtle layer of temptation to the dim surroundings.
Suddenly, a spotlight snapped on.
It illuminated a piano that had already been set up in the corner.
The abrupt change caught the regulars' attention immediately. Aside from a few couples lost in their own flirtatious worlds, most of the audience followed the light, their gazes converging on the piano.
"What's this? A new program?"
"Live piano music?"
"Hmm… I'd prefer a violin."
Shimizu Koji stepped onto the stage in a formal tailcoat, his movements unhurried and composed.
The moment he appeared, nearly every female guest in the room looked up.
Tall, poised, eyes forward, his sharp profile calm and aloof—quietly captivating.
But setting appearances aside, Koji treated this as nothing more than a regular job. The audience was well-mannered: no shouting, no screaming—just collective silence, anticipation hanging in the air.
With his looks doing some of the heavy lifting, even though Koji's piano skills were merely solid rather than exceptional, to an audience completely unprepared, it sounded almost divine.
Day after day, work and bars formed a suffocating routine. Alcohol dulled exhaustion but also deepened it.
Mediocre lives crawled through the shadows of a crumbling lower city.
And then Koji appeared—standing beneath a pure white spotlight like a refined nobleman from the upper districts.
Behind the stage, Diana watched the crowd's reaction and nodded subtly.
Everything was unfolding exactly as she had expected.
She hadn't announced it. No ads. No promotions.
She had briefly considered warming things up beforehand, but knowing Koji's personality, she ultimately chose to do nothing.
And yet, doing nothing didn't mean there would be no effect.
After all, a surprise was only a surprise because of its unexpectedness.
Judging by the excitement in the room, Diana suspected that once these guests went home and started talking, the word-of-mouth alone might outperform her initial projections.
Of course—even in the most harmonious atmosphere, there were always one or two who didn't quite fit in.
At a table below the stage, a black-haired boy slouched with his chin propped on his hand, eyes half-lidded like a dried-up fish. He glanced lazily at Koji playing the piano, listened for a bit… then yawned.
"It's… kind of average."
The instant the words left his mouth, Kaito felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He straightened abruptly.
Several nearby tables of women turned toward him in unison, their gazes sharp enough to cut steel.
"Uh—I—I was joking!"
Kuroba Kaito swallowed hard, cold sweat breaking out as he waved his hands frantically.
Fortunately, thanks to his good looks, no one pressed the issue. He barely escaped the silent execution zone.
If it had been any other guy, Kaito was pretty sure he'd have been verbally shredded.
Having grown up surrounded by female fans, he felt very qualified to judge such matters.
Once the danger passed, he glanced back at Koji on stage and muttered again under his breath.
"So… this must be the guy Akako wanted me to find."
Kaito wasn't a regular here. In fact, this was his first visit.
If not for Koizumi Akako suddenly showing up two days ago—serious, insistent, and demanding that he come to this club on Sunday night—he probably wouldn't have set foot in this place in his entire life.
"What is that woman even thinking…? This guy looks like nothing more than a normal student."
"Whatever. I'll just pass on the message and be done with it."
Curled up in a shadowy corner, Kaito continued muttering to himself. His expressions, unseen by anyone, shifted constantly.
After a while, seeing Koji finish a piece, take a short break amid applause, and prepare for the next song, Kaito raised an eyebrow and waved over a waiter.
"Hey. Come here."
"Yes sir, what can I get you?"
"How long is that guy playing?"
Ignoring Kaito's blunt tone, the waiter thought for a moment. This didn't seem confidential.
"It's a new special program. Performances are scheduled every Sunday from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m., with short breaks in between."
"T-Ten o'clock?!"
"Yes, sir."
Kaito's eye twitched.
If he'd known, he would've come later.
Looking at the colorful drinks on other tables, then back at the waiter, his curiosity stirred.
Well… he was already here.
Might as well see what alcohol tasted like. Otherwise, this would be unbearably boring.
"That one over there—get me the same."
The waiter followed his finger. On the women's table sat a high-proof liquor in a gold-colored bottle—its flashy design deceptively elegant.
He chose not to warn Kaito.
Customers asked; he served. Saying too much only caused trouble.
"Understood. Please wait a moment."
Koji clocked out right at ten.
He changed back into his own clothes, collected his cash payment—150,000 yen, paid on the spot—and left through the club's back door.
The street behind the club was far quieter.
A narrow alley roughly two hundred meters long, with only three streetlights—one at each end and one in the middle.
Practically the perfect place for robbery or murder.
"Hey—w-wait—hic!"
Koji had barely taken a few steps when a voice sounded behind him.
He turned around, frowned instinctively, and took a step back.
Where did this drunk come from?
A guy. Young.
And weirdly… he kind of looked like Kudo Shinichi—but clearly wasn't.
Kuroba Kaito's eyes were unfocused, but his mind was still mostly intact. The moment he saw Koji clock out, he'd set down his glass and fled clumsily from the overly enthusiastic older ladies trying to get him to drink more.
"What do you want?" Koji asked.
Kaito struggled to maintain a poker face, but alcohol betrayed him. His cheeks were flushed red, and he nearly stumbled after two steps.
Still, he managed to stop in front of Koji.
Recalling the message Akako had ordered him to deliver, he took a breath and began reciting stiffly:
"S-Someone asked me to tell you—
The crows of this world are black and white
Good and evil eternally oppose each other
The tide rises and falls, again and again
Balance exists between all things."
"Hic—done. Bye."
The rambling, cryptic words left Koji frowning in confusion.
Seeing Kaito about to collapse onto the roadside and likely sleep there overnight, Koji reached out and steadied him.
"This is for you. Go get it checked tomorrow. You're young—don't delay it. And don't give up."
Koji pulled a business card from his pocket—Suzuki Private Hospital—and slipped it into the drunk boy's pocket.
Then he let go.
Kaito slumped to the ground.
Koji walked out of the alley without looking back.
Hopefully, this rare act of kindness might bring a bit more business to Suzuki Private Hospital.
Even if the other party didn't really need it—
It was still the thought that counted.
Soon after Koji left, soft snoring echoed through the alley.
The night was quiet. The second half of city life had only just begun. If nothing unexpected happened, Kuroba Kaito probably wouldn't be discovered until after midnight.
But not long after—
Footsteps approached.
A cloaked figure emerged from the other end of the alley and stopped in front of Kaito.
She waved a hand to dispel the smell of alcohol, then retrieved the business card from his pocket.
"This is… somewhat different from the prophecy."
Koizumi Akako lifted a crystal ball from beneath her cloak and lightly brushed the card across its surface.
An image appeared within the crystal.
Her lips curved into a playful smile—but caution lingered in her eyes.
"It seems… next time, this witch will have to make her appearance personally."