“Let’s go.” Tōhō Getsukai turned, his pleated skirt sweeping a graceful arc.
Ran Mouri naturally linked her arm through his right, while Sonoko crowded against his left.
The three of them strolled forward side by side.
Behind them trudged Shinichi Kudo.
His hands were laden with heavy shopping bags, his footsteps dragging against the pavement.
Passersby turned their heads one after another.
The trio in front made for a dazzling spectacle.
A stunning silver-haired beauty walked in the center, flanked by two pretty girls, all chatting and laughing.
Behind them, the boy in the blue suit jacket looked utterly dreary, his fingers tangled in the plastic loops of their purchases.
The contrast was absolute.
“Sister Tōhō, should we go to that newly opened dessert shop?” Sonoko’s voice drifted back from the front line.
“Sure, let me check the reviews.” Tōhō Getsukai pulled out his phone and swiped the screen a few times.
“The cheesecake rating is pretty good.”
“Then I want the strawberry one!”
“What about you, Ran?”
“Hmm…
Sister, you choose for me.”
Their conversation flowed light and fluid, completely devoid of any intention to look back at the coolie suffering behind them.
Shinichi Kudo looked down at the bags cutting into his palms, then lifted his gaze to the backs of the three girls…
well, two girls and one anomaly.
Ran Mouri walked beside Tōhō Getsukai, her head tilted slightly as she spoke to him.
Her profile wore a completely defenseless smile, the kind Shinichi rarely ever saw.
He had not seen that smile at crime scenes, at Teitan High, or even when they were alone together.
It only bloomed when she was beside Tōhō Getsukai.
The Great Detective’s deductive powers precisely delivered a cruel conclusion right then and there.
In Ran Mouri’s world, the priority of Sister Tōhō was vastly higher than that of childhood friend Shinichi Kudo.
And what made it even more cruel was the fact that he could not even muster the energy to be angry.
Because Tōhō Getsukai glanced back at him.
That single look contained the gentle, tolerant encouragement of an older sister watching an ignorant younger brother.
“Shinichi Kudo, keep up.
Don’t fall behind.”
It was gentle.
It was considerate.
It was completely non-aggressive.
Yet it made Shinichi feel entirely stifled.
He quickened his pace to catch up, the shopping bags swinging wildly against his knees.
Upon entering the dessert shop, Sonoko immediately claimed a window-side table for four.
Tōhō Getsukai and Ran Mouri slid into the booth on one side, leaving Shinichi to sit opposite them.
The mountain of shopping bags was piled at Shinichi’s feet, squeezing his legroom down to absolutely nothing.
“Thanks for your hard work, Shinichi Kudo.” Tōhō Getsukai pushed the menu across the table.
“It’s my treat.”
Shinichi stared at the menu, suddenly fighting the urge to laugh dryly.
After acting as a pack mule for the entire afternoon, his grand reward was a single drink.
His hourly wage was probably the lowest in all of Japan.
“…An Americano is fine.”
“The Americano here has terrible reviews.
Change it to a latte.”
“I said an Americano—”
Ran and Sonoko leveled their gazes at him simultaneously.
The pressure was immense.
“…A latte, thank you.”
Tōhō Getsukai retrieved the menu with satisfaction and tapped his phone screen to place the order.
The glow from the screen reflected softly against his face, illuminating the slight flutter of his silver eyelashes.
Shinichi watched from across the table, his internal deduction engine spinning uselessly.
Tōhō Getsukai was a man.
That was a fact.
An ironclad, biological fact.
But it was precisely this fact that made everything feel so meaningless.
Because at Tōhō Getsukai’s level of overwhelming beauty, gender was nothing more than an insignificant character printed on a household registration record.
Shinichi leaned back in his chair, resigning himself to his fate.
He stretched his legs out, his shoe bumping against a shopping bag on the floor.
The paper bag tipped over, spilling a shoebox onto the tiles.
He bent down to retrieve it, his peripheral vision catching Tōhō Getsukai sitting opposite him with his legs elegantly crossed.
The sole of a brand-new Mary Jane shoe revealed a small sliver of bare ankle, the delicate leather strap swaying slightly in the air.
Shinichi shoved the shoebox back into the bag and sat up straight.
Don’t look.
It would be impolite to keep staring.
Ten minutes later, the waiter arrived with their order.
A slice of cheesecake sat in front of Tōhō Getsukai, its golden-yellow surface slightly caramelized and radiating a rich, sweet aroma.
Ran received her tiramisu, and Sonoko happily accepted a strawberry mille-feuille.
In front of Shinichi sat a single, lonely cup of latte.
Three cakes against one coffee.
He had lost the battle visually before it even began.
Tōhō Getsukai pressed his fork into the cheesecake and brought a small piece to his mouth.
The texture was firm, the sweetness perfectly restrained, and the milky aftertaste carried just a hint of tartness.
The online reviews had not deceived him.
“Is it good, Sister Tōhō?” Ran asked, tilting her head.
“Not bad.
The cheese is a blend of mascarpone and parmesan, and the base is quite solid—”
“Sister, you have some on the corner of your mouth.”
Ran’s actions moved faster than her words.
She pulled a napkin from the dispenser, leaned across the table, pinched the corner of the paper, and gently dabbed the corner of Tōhō Getsukai’s lips.
The gesture was incredibly natural, as if she had performed it a thousand times before.
The soft tissue brushed against his skin, her fingertips carrying a faint, pleasant warmth.
Ran was so close he could count her eyelashes, the air between them suddenly carrying the clean scent of her laundry detergent.
Tōhō Getsukai did not dodge.
From childhood to adulthood, Ran loved doing things like this.
Wiping his mouth, fixing his hair, patting imaginary dust off his clothes.
The mother and daughter shared the exact same obsessive-compulsive habits.
Eri Kisaki was exactly the same way.
“Thanks.”
“Hehe.” Ran smiled, her eyes curving into bright crescents.
As she withdrew her hand, her fingertips lingered near his chin for a fraction of a second.
Opposite them, Shinichi’s hand paused mid-air, his grip tightening around his coffee cup.
He saw it.
He saw it all with agonizing clarity.
The way Ran wiped Tōhō’s mouth, the precise angle of her fingers, the exact distance she leaned in, the soft curve of her smile.
Every single detail etched itself into his visual cortex like a high-definition replay.
The Great Detective’s legendary observational skills were nothing short of a torture device in moments like this.
Shinichi lowered his head and took a desperate sip of his latte.
It was bitter.
Huh?
Could it be the bitterness in his own heart?
He took another sip.
“Pfft!”
Damn it!
It was actually bitter.
“Ah, I am so sorry!
I served the wrong drink.
This cup is an Americano.”
The waiter rushed over with an apologetic smile, quickly swapping the bitter coffee for a proper latte.
Shinichi nearly choked on his own rising blood pressure.
How could his luck be this abysmal?
Sonoko sliced into her strawberry mille-feuille, her eyes accurately capturing Shinichi’s miserable expression.
The Second Miss of the Suzuki family pressed her lips together, barely maintaining her refined ladylike demeanor.
“Shinichi Kudo, drink slowly.
It’s not good if you choke.”
“Who choked?
I am doing perfectly fine.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Sonoko chuckled softly.
Tōhō Getsukai forked another piece of cake, silently observing the crumbling mental state of the Great Detective across from him.
Classmate Kudo’s psychological fortitude today was truly worrying.
But he really had no one to blame but himself.
Who told the Great Detective to spend every waking hour obsessing over corpses, completely neglecting to take care of his own childhood friend?
Ran leaned over once more, holding her phone screen up for Tōhō Getsukai to see.
“Sister, look.
Is this sunscreen spray any good?
For the beach this weekend.”
“It will do the job, but since your skin is sensitive, you should buy one with physical sunscreen ingredients.
I will send you a better link later.”
“Great!
Sister is the most professional!”
Ran leaned happily against Tōhō Getsukai’s shoulder, her thumb swiping rapidly across her screen.
Shinichi’s latte cup hovered in mid-air, entirely failing to return to the table.
He was staring at Ran.
She rested her weight against Tōhō’s shoulder, her profile glowing with a soft smile, her entire posture as relaxed as a cat sunbathing on a windowsill.
He had never seen her look this at ease in front of him.
The Great Detective slowly lowered his cup.
Don’t look.
He closed his eyes and began to recite a silent mantra in his head.
Women only slow down my deduction speed.
Women only slow down my deduction speed.
Women only slow down my—
“Sister Tōhō, ah—”
Ran lifted her fork, offering a piece of tiramisu directly to Tōhō Getsukai’s lips.
[Akarin’s Note:
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