"So, you're saying I give off a terrifying aura?"
"A dark, ominous vibe…"
"That's troubling."
"Maybe it's tied to my abilities."
On his ever-gentle, smiling face, Koizumi Akako caught a flicker of complex emotion.
A pale, lonely expression…
"In fact, I can, to some degree, foresee certain people's deaths," Hayato Masaki said with a smile.
Though smiling, it felt more like self-mockery. The glint in his eyes was almost too raw to bear.
Sorrow?
Or powerlessness?
His clear, pristine face met Koizumi Akako's gaze directly. The deathly aura cloaking him clashed with his serene demeanor, making his emotions stand out starkly.
Koizumi Akako listened closely.
Her instincts told her he wasn't lying—those transparent eyes held no deceit. But his words likely hid something.
Her curiosity piqued.
"Proof? And why are you so sure my divination can help you?"
This was her first encounter with someone outside her family wielding mystical abilities.
Initially, she'd found him terrifying…
But after a few minutes, his words and demeanor seemed approachable enough.
Not that she'd let her guard down.
Still, meeting a "kindred spirit" sparked her interest.
"Just as you see something special in me, Koizumi-san, you stand out to me too," Hayato said. "As for proof—"
Ring-ring-ring!
The bell for class dismissal cut him off. Soon, students trickled out of classrooms.
Koizumi Akako opened her mouth, but a few girls noticed Hayato—
"He looks familiar…"
"Wait, from that TV show!"
"Masaki-sensei?!"
"No way!"
"Sign my notebook, please!"
In moments, Hayato was swarmed by fangirls.
Not everyone recognized him, but the commotion drew a crowd. School was the perfect place—paper and pens were plentiful.
Hayato signed autographs with a smile.
As always, he deliberately tweaked a stroke in his name for flair.
Koizumi Akako hadn't expected his popularity. Overhearing chatter, she learned he was a mystery novelist and detective.
A detective…
He couldn't be that bad, then.
Still a high schooler, her reasoning was straightforward. With the crowd growing, she turned and left.
Hayato, busy charming the schoolgirls, kept part of his attention on Koizumi Akako. He'd timed his visit near the bell deliberately.
Though he doubted trouble, caution was key. In public, Koizumi Akako wouldn't use magic against him.
Mulling this, he smiled gracefully at the girls. "No rush, one at a time."
"Here?"
"I'm flattered you bought my book, but maybe don't read it at school."
"…Please wait."
"Study hard, okay?"
---
While Hayato was mobbed by Ekoda High's fangirls, out on a suburban highway—
Vodka drove Gin's prized car through the rain.
It had been pouring all day.
The black Porsche 356A sped along the slick road, fine mist blurring the windshield before wipers swept it clear.
Vodka's driving was rock-solid.
Gin, in the passenger seat, texted orders to underlings, barely feeling a jolt—
Bang!
The car lurched violently, a sharp noise erupting outside. Gin's eyes snapped from his phone.
"Aniki, think we blew a tire?" Vodka said, then froze, a thought striking him. "Could it be Cointreau!?"
"Unlock the doors," Gin said, voice flat.
Vodka complied, noticing Gin had already unbuckled and was lowering the passenger window.
"…"
Vodka fumbled to unbuckle with one hand while braking.
The Porsche 356A slowed, rattling to a stop by the roadside.
Nothing happened.
"…"
"…"
Silence hung in the car.
Gin scanned their surroundings—front, side mirrors. The empty highway held nothing suspicious.
Only a truck, under Vodka's tense gaze, passed steadily in the far lane.
"Get out," Gin ordered.
Vodka opened his door, and Gin stepped out from the passenger side.
Rain fell outside.
Vodka crouched by the blown tire, inspecting carefully before concluding, "Aniki, it's just a puncture from something sharp…"
Pat-pat…
Whoosh!
The rain intensified, soaking their clothes.
"…"
Gin said nothing, returning to the car and shutting the door.
Vodka slid back into the driver's seat, slamming his door. Wiping rain off, he muttered, "I overreacted. No way Cointreau would mess with us for no reason, right?"
"Call someone to fix this. Now."
"Right."
Vodka scrambled for his phone to arrange it.
The rain poured harder.
For a long while, Gin's car stayed parked, unmoving.
***
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