Hijikata Kozaburo deliberately handed out business cards in the elevator—not out of courtesy, but to keep everyone distracted from staring blankly at the screen. Idle eyes might notice the faint markings he'd secretly drawn on it.
By the time the socializing ended, the elevator had reached the sixth floor.
Of course, to Ran Mouri and Conan, it currently appeared to be the fifth.
Hijikata glanced at Jiangxia Tongzhi, who looked calm and utterly unaware of the trickery. This reassured him greatly.
He stepped to the door and rang the bell. His beautiful wife opened it promptly, greeting them with a warm smile.
The couple performed a neat little play of marital harmony in front of the guests. Then Mrs. Hijikata withdrew with perfect timing and elegance.
Hijikata ushered Jiangxia and the others into the living room.
There were no slippers—just a doormat. Ran gave Hijikata a suspicious look. He waved it off: "This is the place I often use for rehearsing scenes with friends. Lots of action moves. If you're in slippers or barefoot, it's easy to get injured. Just wipe your feet and come on in."
That was a lie.
The real reason? Later, they'd need to help him act out a dramatic "rescue the wife" scene. If he'd asked them to take off their shoes, staging his own fake death would've taken way too much setup in way too little time.
Once the guests were settled, Hijikata made an excuse to go prepare tea and slipped out of the room.
Ran Mouri sat up stiffly on the pristine couch, hands in her lap. She couldn't help sneaking glances around. After all, this was a celebrity's home!
Jiangxia, meanwhile, sat for a bit, then calmly took out a business card holder and began sorting through its contents.
He'd found these in the detective agency's drawer.
Amuro Toru spent most of his time running around doing mysterious things. Occasionally, he'd wear the mask of a "famous detective boss" to meet clients with… other intentions.
In the process, Amuro received a lot of business cards. He never threw them away on the spot—that'd be rude. Instead, he'd toss them in his bag and later dump the whole lot in the office drawer.
Since Amuro clearly didn't care about them, Jiangxia started collecting the cards into his own holder after asking once.
Whenever he had free time, he'd comb through them, pick out familiar names, and file them separately.
It was like digging for treasure in your childhood attic full of forgotten junk.
Maximizing every scrap of resource within reach.
This odd little habit had actually landed Jiangxia two or three solid cases.
And no, he wasn't worried Amuro would notice. That guy might be an elite undercover agent, but he wasn't tracking something as trivial as who touched what business card. Plus, in the Detective Conan universe, running into murders is practically a rite of passage. No one would question it.
As the paper rustled, Ran and Conan both turned their heads to look at Jiangxia—still methodically flipping cards like he was filing taxes.
The two high school students felt oddly introspective. Wasn't organizing your contacts the first step to adulting? They'd never expected Jiangxia—of all people—to take business cards this seriously. Was this what it meant to be a "social person" in the real world?
Time passed quickly under the hypnotic rhythm of card shuffling.
Eventually, Hijikata Kozaburo returned with a tray, elbow-pushing the door open and stepping into the living room.
"Sorry for the wait," he said, setting down the tray. He began pouring tea with unpracticed movements and added with a sigh, "My wife usually handles all this. Took me ages just to find the teapot. Housework… it looks simple, but once you do it, you realize—nope, not simple."
Jiangxia glanced at Hijikata's legs, then silently accepted a cup.
Hijikata waited a beat, hoping for a reaction, but Jiangxia gave him nothing.
Luckily, someone picked up on his cue.
Ran, feeling the quiet stretching too long, tried to break the tension with a casual question: "Oh—your wife's out?"
"Yeah," Hijikata replied, visibly relieved. "She went to a friend's place."
Hint hint, that "friend" being Okita—the neighbor they ran into in the elevator. The same guy who'd supposedly cuckolded him.
Ran didn't pick up on the deeper implication. She just thought "friend" meant "tea party" or "chatty lunch."
After they finished their tea, Hijikata put down his cup, checked the time, and reached for something on top of the TV—a fake gun.
The reason he'd invited Jiangxia over in the first place? He was prepping for a detective drama role and wanted tips on how to act like a convincing sleuth.
He handed the fake gun to Jiangxia.
"This time I'm playing a famous detective who's good at disguises. He's also really into guns, but I've never dealt with them before... This thing cost me a fortune. Please teach me."
Jiangxia looked at the fake gun with faint disdain: "…"
Yeah, he could use one—but it still reminded him of some very unpleasant memories. Speaking of which, when is the Organization finally going to give him the gun they owe him?
Ran stared at the gun nervously. Jiangxia was a real detective. Why would he be anywhere near this kind of thing? So dangerous. Also—was this actor uncle still stuck in a middle school chuuni phase? Who actually thinks detectives carry guns these days?
Seeing Jiangxia's strange expression, Ran figured he must be thinking the same thing but didn't want to embarrass the client.
So she stepped in to help smooth things over: "Um… actually, very few detectives carry guns nowadays…"
Hijikata blinked. "I see. But in the script, the very first scene is me confronting some gangsters by the river—with guns."
He pointed toward the big glass doors behind him, gesturing dramatically. "Right out there."
Jiangxia perked up a little. "The river's here?"
Hijikata nodded, opened the glass door, and motioned for them to step out onto the balcony.
…
The balcony opened directly to the outside. A breeze blew in from the river, crisp and refreshing.
The view was stunning—spacious and clear.
Once everyone had gathered, Hijikata pointed to the riverbank below. "See? Right there."
The apartment was built right by the river, and the water below was wide and glittering.
Looking out, you could see the opposite bank like it was part of a miniature diorama.
Which, of course, worked perfectly for Hijikata's real plan.
Because just a short while ago, while the guests were waiting in the living room…
Hijikata Kozaburo had already killed his wife next door.
Then he'd set her corpse up—just outside the neighbor's balcony.
Now, as they all stood admiring the view, that corpse was silently waiting behind the next balcony door.
Once his timer kicked in, the body would flop dramatically backward, landing on the balcony floor like a horror movie jump-scare.
In Hijikata's genius script, it was his apartment—the sixth floor—that would dump the body. But thanks to his carefully planted misdirection, Jiangxia and the others would absolutely believe it came from Okita's place.
After all, the body would clearly have fallen. That meant it had been pushed. And that meant… the killer must still be inside.
Cue drama.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 22/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*