The case at the Mihua City Library was closed quickly.
That was likely due to the fact that Kosugi Tsukawa, the drug dealer director, confessed without resistance, detailing every aspect of his crimes as soon as the police asked.
When the incident made it into the newspapers, it sparked widespread conversation.
After all, the Mihua Library had been around for many years. Practically everyone in Mihua City had stepped into it at some point… and now, the director was revealed to have been using the books as a front for drug trafficking, even going so far as to murder an employee who discovered his secret. It was chilling.
"Aunt Eri, what day is tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow should be the 7th."
"May?"
"It's April."
—
It was nighttime.
Seated at the midnight snack table, Hayashi Yoshiki and Kisaki Eri had just finished their conversation.
Eri's grip on her cup tightened slightly.
She frowned, then looked carefully at Yoshiki, clearly concerned.
"Yoshiki-kun..."
"Hmm?"
"Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"
…
Yoshiki's face stiffened slightly.
Kisaki Eri cautiously said, "You seem to be having trouble remembering dates recently."
"Maybe I'm just sleep-deprived. I've been overthinking my new book."
"Didn't it just come out? There's no need to work yourself this hard."
Her voice softened, filled with maternal concern. "And you've been reading a lot of psychology books lately. Is something bothering you?"
"Not exactly."
Yoshiki hesitated, then decided to tell the truth.
"It's just... I can't keep track of what date comes next. Like, I can't tell if tomorrow is the 8th, 9th, or something else."
"Any other symptoms?"
"None."
He smiled. "It's honestly not a big deal. I just check my phone every morning when I wake up. It's fine."
"No, Yoshiki, that's not something to ignore."
Eri shook her head.
She was a rational person, but Yoshiki's recent behavior worried her deeply. Still, she made sure not to pressure him with panic.
Her expression turned serious. "If it didn't matter to you, you wouldn't have been reading so many psychotherapy books in secret."
…
"Maybe we should see a doctor. I'll make an appointment tomorrow, okay?"
"But aren't you busy with legal cases lately?"
Before she could answer, Yoshiki smiled and said gently, "I'll go myself. Do you know a good psychiatrist? I've been thinking about trying hypnotherapy."
"Let me check with a colleague."
Relieved that he wasn't resistant to the idea, Eri picked up her phone and quickly reached out to her network.
Yoshiki waited patiently.
He had been anticipating this moment.
His diagnosis would likely be labeled as "time disorientation."
He hadn't hidden his trouble with time perception on purpose—after all, it gave him a legitimate reason to dive deep into psychological studies and seek out a skilled hypnotherapist.
Finding someone competent who could also be persuaded required both planning and a natural excuse.
After a short while:
"Dr. Kyosuke Fudo at Beika Pharmacy Hospital. He has a solid reputation in the industry," said Eri. "Many officers from the Metropolitan Police go to him."
"Dr. Kyosuke Fudo..."
"So, what do you think? If you're okay with it, I'll set the appointment."
"Please schedule it for tomorrow at three."
"Got it."
Though efficient and decisive, Eri always took Yoshiki's wishes into consideration.
"Really, you don't have to worry so much, Aunt Eri."
Dr. Kyosuke Fudo was a poised, elegant man.
He looked to be in his mid-thirties, always dressed meticulously in professional attire, exuding a sense of calm competence.
"Mr. Hayashi, please have a seat."
He welcomed Yoshiki with a warm smile and a clipboard in hand.
"I understand from your file that you're having trouble tracking the passage of days. Is that correct?"
"Yes. For example, I think tomorrow should be April 8th."
"I see..."
Without losing his calm, Dr. Fudo continued, "Can you perceive short-term time accurately? Like morning, afternoon, or time intervals?"
"No issues there. I know it'll be 4 PM in about an hour."
"And aside from this time confusion, any issues with concentration, memory, or understanding language?"
"Not at all."
"Understood. Then your problem seems localized to longer time intervals."
Dr. Fudo scribbled notes onto the chart.
"Would you mind undergoing a few more tests? It would help us determine whether this is psychological or neurological."
"No problem at all."
Dr. Fudo seemed convinced it was psychological but ordered CT and MRI scans just to rule out anything structural.
Thanks to his status, everything was expedited. Within 30 minutes, they returned to the consultation room.
"The scans are clean. Your brain is perfectly normal."
"Psychologically, you also appear well-adjusted. No anxiety, no signs of depression."
"When did you first notice this issue?"
"Hard to say. I've been able to recall the past without problems."
"Interesting..."
The doctor leaned forward thoughtfully.
"Let's test your reasoning: if today is April 7, what do you believe tomorrow will be?"
"April 8, naturally. Because 8 comes after 7."
"But tomorrow is April 13, Mr. Hayashi."
…
That was a blow.
Yoshiki's calm expression didn't falter, but the smile faded ever so slightly.
He wasn't confused. He knew this was the world's inconsistency, not his own.
That's why he never called Fudo "doctor," only "Mr." He recognized that the disorder wasn't truly his.
"Perhaps this is similar to actors who get too immersed in a role,"Fudo offered. "You're a novelist, after all. Maybe you've internalized something unintentionally."
"I've read about that," said Yoshiki, nodding. "I even came across hypnotic suggestion in my research. Could hypnosis therapy help?"
"It might. Would you like some book recommendations too?"
"That would be great."
They discussed several books, and Fudo appreciated Yoshiki's thoughtful and well-read demeanor.
"Let's talk about the deeper meaning of 'time disorientation'," he continued.
"In psychology, time is your sense of placement in the world. 'Person' defines your role. 'Place' grounds you in culture. And 'Time' defines your very existence."
"Time is the positioning of existence..."
That struck Yoshiki deeply.
He wasn't from this world, not originally. And that detachment from "existence" might be what caused this disorientation.
"We can begin hypnosis therapy."
"Thank you, Mr. Fudo. But can hypnosis really induce hallucinations?"
"In theory, yes. The human subconscious is vast and largely unexplored."
"But let's set reasonable expectations,"Fudo added with a weary smile. "We don't want to expect magic."
"Understood. Let's begin."
Yoshiki's smile was soft and almost ghostlike.
As Dr. Fudo began guiding him into a relaxed state, a faint red light flickered in his vision.
He didn't know it yet, but Hayashi Yoshiki had already begun releasing a colorless hypnotic gas since entering the room.
Leaning forward slightly, Yoshiki's eyes glimmered as he spoke softly.
"Mr. Fudo."
"Yes?"
"When hypnotized, people are more likely to accept suggestion. Wouldn't you say visual cues are even more effective than verbal ones?"
The session ended after one hour, excluding the imaging exams.
On his way out of Beika Pharmacy Hospital, Yoshiki made a call to Kisaki Eri.
He explained that everything was fine—just simple "time disorientation" with no major impact on daily life. This reassured her, at least on the surface.
He had gotten what he came for.
Yoshiki scheduled weekly follow-up appointments with Fudo Kyosuke.
And it wasn't even 4:30 yet.
Waiting at a red light, Yoshiki made another call.
"Hello, Yoko?"
"I'm done on my end. How's filming going?"
"Half an hour? That works. Send me the address, I'll head over."
"Of course not, it's no trouble."
"See you soon."
After hanging up, he turned the wheel.
Yoko Okino had finished shooting early. She'd invited him to try that Chinese restaurant they'd talked about.
Hayashi Yoshiki rarely turned people down.
Especially when he could turn dinner into another step in his plan.