On the day the Tsukikage Island incident concluded, Hayashi Yoshiki returned to Beika City alongside Kogoro Mouri, Ran, and the rest of the group.
The primary reason?Ran didn't want to stay on that eerie island for another minute. Two mysterious deaths had thoroughly unnerved her.
The Next Day
After returning to the city, Hayashi Yoshiki received a text message from Asanami Masashi.
Masashi: "Mr. Hayashi, I've arrived in Tokyo."Hayashi Yoshiki: "That was quick."Hayashi Yoshiki: "Didn't you want to stay a little longer on Tsukikage Island?"Masashi: "No. I've got no attachment to that place. I've always lived in Tokyo."Hayashi Yoshiki: "I see."Masashi: "...May I ask where Kawashima Hideo is?"Hayashi Yoshiki: "He's also in Tokyo. Maybe you'll see him in the news soon."Masashi: "Okay."
On the other end of the message thread, Masashi felt a strange sense of relief.
Mr. Hayashi had methods he couldn't even begin to understand...
Sending that commission letter may have been guided by the will of his father's spirit.
Later, Inspector Megure handed over Keiji Aso's final composition to his son, Shigenori Aso. Hidden within the music score was a final message—a father's parting words to his child:
"Live a good life."
Masashi Asanami decided to honor it.
Masashi: "I don't know how to repay your kindness, Mr. Hayashi. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Hayashi Yoshiki: "No."
Hayashi Yoshiki: "Perhaps one day, Dr. Asanami, I'll need your help."
Hayashi Yoshiki: "But until that day comes, think of this as a gift. A gift of justice."
Reading that, Masashi was overwhelmed with emotion—and could only respond with:
"Thank you."
Hayashi Yoshiki took out a lighter.
With a soft click, the flame consumed two pages of paper—turning them to ash.
One page remained on the desk:
Kawashima Hideo
At 1:05 a.m. on May 19, I was awakened by violent knocks at my bedroom door. I opened the door and ran into Nishimoto Ken.
After witnessing his self-immolation, I panicked and fled to Tokyo.
I wandered the city aimlessly.
Seven days later, I was arrested by police and taken into custody. During my statement, I died of a sudden cerebral infarction brought on by emotional shock.
Hayashi Yoshiki wanted to test how far the Death Note's law of causality could go.
Considering the evidence against Kawashima—a wanted drug trafficker now loose in Tokyo—would such a man really survive undetected for a full week without advanced evasion tactics?
Ding-ling-ling~!
His phone rang.
Hayashi Yoshiki answered, replied with a simple "OK," then cleared his desk, adjusted his coat, and headed downstairs.
A black car was waiting.
He opened the rear door and got in.
"Ahem... Are you sitting tight?"
The driver, Vodka, cleared his throat and looked back.
"Yes. We can go now, Mr. Vodka."
"Good."
Vodka carefully pulled away.
The vehicle—a high-end black Toyota—was sleek and comfortable. But it was only the two of them. Gin wasn't in the car today.
Vodka, stoic in his black suit and sunglasses, stared straight ahead. He seemed oddly tense.
"You seem nervous, Mr. Vodka."
"Huh? Nah, I'm fine! Not nervous at all!"
"Really?"Hayashi Yoshiki smiled gently."If you're feeling stressed, you can talk to me. I've been learning a bit of psychology lately—it's surprisingly useful."
You're the reason I'm stressed!!
Vodka wanted to yell, but instead he simply nodded and muttered:
"OK."
The car fell into silence again.
Eventually, they arrived at the gates of a medical research institute.
The guards outside appeared ordinary at first glance—but their posture was too disciplined to be mere civilians. As Vodka stepped out and led Hayashi Yoshiki inside, their eyes narrowed in alertness.
"Security here is top-tier," said Vodka."Don't go wandering off, Jundu."
He swiped a security card for the elevator.
On the next floor, he pulled another card from his inside pocket.
"Master Vodka.""Master Vodka."
Several guards stood stationed with firearms holstered at their hips. Upon seeing Hayashi Yoshiki, their curious eyes lingered. A new face.
Gin was already inside.
It was a clean, clinical research lab. A dozen researchers in white coats moved methodically between computer terminals and medical equipment.
Among them stood a short, brown-haired girl in a lab coat—the youngest by far.
Gin's eyes were fixed on her.
"Accelerate the drug trials. If the data isn't sufficient, proceed with more live tests. I want a report ready to present to that gentleman."
His voice was cold, indifferent to the girl's growing pallor.
Without another word, he turned away—hands in pockets—and walked toward the newcomers.
Hayashi Yoshiki watched with a gentle smile.
The girl with short brown hair noticed him.
For a second, her face froze in recognition. Then, her expression darkened with obvious disdain. She turned sharply and walked back to her workstation.
"Let's go, Cointreau."
"Ah, I'll treat this as a bonus for new hires."Hayashi Yoshiki smiled.
Gin led him into a well-lit room—somewhere between a medical bay and an observation room.
A woman in a white coat stood waiting.
She bowed when she saw Gin.
"Master Gin..."
"He's the one scheduled for a psychological evaluation. Begin immediately. I'll wait outside."
"Yes, sir."
She nodded, clearly nervous.
After Gin exited, she looked back at her subject—and was surprised by his serene demeanor.
"Nice to meet you, doctor. My name is Hayashi Yoshiki."
"Hello, Mr. Hayashi. I'm Yumi Iwaki."
She remained cautious but professional. She gestured toward a seat and quickly began setting up her equipment.
"According to our records, Mr. Hayashi, you've reported symptoms of 'temporal disorientation disorder,' correct?"
"Yes."
"Any history of medication?"
"None."
"Then we'll begin a series of baseline evaluations. First..."