In the sacred stillness of the church, Conan felt a chill creep over him.
Ran's gaze had turned strange—troubled, worried, almost like she was keeping her distance.
It sent a cold knot twisting in his gut.
And then, of course, Hayato Masaki strolled over, ruffling Conan's hair with a gentle smile that made it impossible to snap back.
Jerk! What did you even say?!
Just as the tension was suffocating him, Sonoko returned with the drinks.
Hayato Masaki took the mineral water from her with a polite "Thanks," and she broke into a goofy grin.
By now, the stream of guests visiting the bride backstage had dwindled.
Sonoko's camcorder only caught one more visitor: a good-looking but sleazy guy named Umenomiya, who offered Sayuri Matsumoto roses. He even took her lemon tea, tied a bow on the straw behind his back, and handed it back with a flourish.
"Who's that guy?"
"That's Umenomiya-senpai, a year above us."
"…Ugh, haha."
Sonoko, surprisingly, wasn't impressed.
The guy was just too slick.
A student crashing his teacher's wedding to offer flowers and declare, "I'm the only one who can make you happy, Sensei"? Talk about full of himself.
Next, Sayuri's groom, Toshihiko Takasugi, stumbled into the room, pushed in by his laughing groomsmen. He tripped spectacularly, sprawling on the floor, and stood up red-faced and flustered.
Sayuri's response was tender, though.
Sonoko aimed the camcorder to capture their moment, but the battery died at the worst possible time.
"Alright, let's give the happy couple some space," Hayato Masaki said with a smile. "They've probably got plenty to talk about before the big moment."
"Sure thing, Hayato-nii!"
Sonoko was the first to agree.
Ran nodded, waving at Sayuri with a smile before heading out.
In the hallway, Hayato Masaki glanced at his watch out of habit, then pulled out his phone to check for missed messages.
"Masaki-san, our next appointment is tomorrow at 15:00. Please confirm receipt."
He quickly typed, "Got it," and sent it off.
Noticing him texting, Sonoko sidled up and whispered, "Hayato-nii, can I get your number?"
"Sure thing."
He rattled off his digits without hesitation.
Sonoko jotted them down, thrilled, when another phone in Hayato Masaki's pocket buzzed.
His pulse quickened.
That was his Cointreau phone.
He glanced at Conan, who was awkwardly trying to pry info from Ran with a forced smile, then stepped away to check the message.
"New mission. Details sent to your Organization email. Complete within five days. —Gin"
Hayato Masaki: "No computer on me right now, can't check."
Hayato Masaki: "Might be busy for a bit. Five days… I'll look later and get back to you."
The texts went through, and within seconds, a reply pinged back.
Gin: "Busy with what?"
Hayato Masaki: "Got a shrink appointment tomorrow."
Hayato Masaki: "Plus, my name's still hot right now, so I'm scouting spots for a detective agency."
Hayato Masaki: "Oh, and maybe a date soon, who knows."
Gin: "?"
Gin: "Shrink? What's that about?"
Before Hayato Masaki could reply, a loud crash echoed from the bridal room, moments after the groom had stepped out.
Ran and Sonoko, mid-laughter, froze and exchanged a glance. They rushed to the door, flung it open, and—
"Ahh!!"
"Sensei?!"
Their panicked screams jolted Hayato Masaki. He backspaced his half-written text, typed a quick line, and hit send.
"Hold up, got a case to crack. Talk later."
On the other end, Gin stared at his phone, brow furrowed.
—Cointreau's seeing a shrink?
He couldn't tell if the guy was joking or serious.
The Organization didn't give a damn about members' mental health, but if someone like Cointreau, who loved staging "accidental" deaths, was claiming he needed therapy…
Gin didn't think it was a laughing matter.
And that "case to crack"—was he staging his own crime to solve it and boost his rep?
Staring at the texts, Gin went quiet for a moment.
"Get someone to scout Beika for rental spots suitable for a detective agency," he ordered.
"Detective agency?" Vodka blinked, then asked, "For Cointreau?"
"And have someone check if Hayato Masaki's been to any hospital psych wards lately."
"Got it, psych—psych ward?!"
SCREECH!
Vodka, who'd been nodding along, slammed the brakes. The Porsche 365A lurched, jerking Gin forward in the passenger seat.
"Aniki, you mean Cointreau…?"
"Quit freaking out and get it done."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Vodka scrambled to obey.
Back at Beika Church, the bridal room was now swarmed with people.
Sayuri Matsumoto lay crumpled on the floor, her wedding gown stained with blood trickling from her throat and mouth, mingled with spilled lemon tea.
Hayato Masaki propped her head up, pouring milk down her throat.
"Sensei…"
"How could this happen…?"
Sonoko and Ran stood nearby, tears streaming down their faces.
"She'll be fine. Don't worry—Sayuri-sensei's not dying," Hayato Masaki said.
"Hayato-nii…"
"She swallowed lye—sodium hydroxide. Good thing Sonoko's drink had orange juice and milk. That'll neutralize the alkali."
He looked up at the crowd. "Has someone called an ambulance? She needs a stomach pump, fast."
"Ambulance is on the way!"
"How'd she get lye?! Damn it, who did this?!" Megure Juzo growled, teeth clenched.
***
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