The next day, Takumi sent the original poster by express mail. He didn't choose fax because even express shipping could take up to a week.
After leaving it in the mailbox, he wrote a message from his mobile phone to Shinji Arai:
"Can you take me to a place with internet when you have time? I invite you to eat."
I wanted to search online to find out if Detective Conan was appearing in the news or if he was being talked about on social media. I didn't have an ID number, so I couldn't access a formal internet café. But he remembered that Shinji knew some casual places, so he thought that maybe there would be a way.
The response was disappointing:
"I'm sorry, I can't today. My dad is home and I can't go out."
Takumi sighed and went through his contact book. Besides Kurosawa and his mother Aiko, only Shiori remained. He didn't think she had much idea of what he was looking for, but he decided to give it a try anyway.
The result was unexpected.
"No problem. Where are you?"
That academic stalker did know the internet.
Takumi, surprised, sent him the address. Ten minutes later, Shiori appeared in the corner, her inseparable hat covering half of her face.
"Thank you for coming..."
Takumi understood why he always covered himself. He had a striking face. It was almost impossible for it to go unnoticed. For a moment, he felt sorry for her. And he also promised himself something: 'I should stop going out as if no one recognized me.'
"Nothing happens. Follow me."
His voice was clear, slow, determined. He adjusted the brim of his hat as he continued:
"There is a clandestine place by Natsume-dōri. They do not ask for identification. Of course, it is a little more expensive. Don't invite me to lunch: you'd better pay for the connection."
Takumi blinked.
"Are you going to go online, too?"
"Yes. My parents no longer pay for internet and the network cable is broken. Besides, we're leaving Yoshino soon, so they don't plan to renew it."
"I don't even have a computer."
Takumi shook his head.
"I did not contract data for the cell phone. It was expensive. I thought it wasn't necessary. Now I regret it."
Shiori led him down a narrow alley. They passed by several high school boys who were chewing sweets. It was not exactly a reliable place.
"Do you have free seats?"
He asked it naturally as soon as they crossed the door of the Internet café. The manager, a young woman with marked dark circles, looked up from the counter.
"There are no stalls together in the common room. Do you want a private cabin? It has two terminals. Sixteen hundred yen for two hours."
"Private cabin. Two hours."
Takumi pulled out the ticket without hesitation. He hated the overcrowded hallways, smelling of fried foods and screaming teenagers.
As they made their way to the ward, Shiori glanced at him sideways with feigned envy:
"How generous."
Most of the students in Yoshino couldn't spend like that for a simple connection. But Takumi, with the newly deposited royalties, did not consider that a problem.
He did not answer. He just opened the door.
It was a small room: a cheap sofa, two old terminals and a flashing light that flashed half-heartedly.
Shiori sat up naturally, took off her hat, and turned on her computer as if she had been doing it for years.
Takumi closed the door behind him and took a seat.
"You trust me too much."
He lit his while looking at her out of the corner of his eye. It was difficult for him to understand it. With how reserved I was in class... and how uninhibited she seemed at times like this.
"Aren't you afraid to connect with someone you barely know?"
"I'm not that desperate. You're friends with Yuki."
Shiori smiled without taking her eyes off the screen.
"Yuki wouldn't lie to me about you."
The two had known each other since they were little. Yuki had introduced him as someone reliable, someone calm. That was enough for Shiori.
Still, something didn't fit. She had the talent of a student prodigy and the appearance of a celebrity. But, at the same time, he was reckless in small gestures. Takumi had mentally labeled her as an ordinary girl. I still didn't know why... But that label didn't seem to quite fit. There was something else. Something that escaped his first impressions.
And yet, that impression was what made it interesting.
"Which search engine do you use?"
Takumi turned on the computer and stood still. I didn't know what to do. I had never used one of those seriously.
He turned to Shiori... and froze.
"Why...?" It was instantly corrected: "What are you looking at?"
Her screen was divided into several windows. All open with news about Detective Conan.
"Detective Conan, an original manga not to be missed!"
"High-level youth mystery! Experts explain the Detective Conan phenomenon."
"Professor Niu, a specialist in digital addiction: 'Video games lower IQ. On the other hand, reading Detective Conan improves logical thinking.'"
The bright red titles shook him. 'Really...? So much news? So much interest?'
It was as if the whole network had gone crazy with the manga. I didn't expect it. Not even remotely.
Shiori looked at him with her eyes lit up.
"I am preparing my entrance into the holy war!"
His face was lit up with emotion. Then she pointed at him, full of enthusiasm:
"By the way, didn't you return the Weekly Shonen yesterday? Did you read Detective Conan? Lucky you, isn't that great?"
Holy war...
Takumi had a lot of questions. But he just nodded, unsure.
"Not bad."
"Perfect! I'll add you to a group!" Shiori pointed to the screen. "Log in and I'll get you in."
"Eh... I don't have an account."
"What!? What do you mean you don't have any!?" Shiori looked wounded deep inside. He leaned over, clicked deftly, and opened the registration window:
"Fill this in. Put a decent username and password."
Takumi shrugged. I had no escape. He began to write.
"What exactly is a holy war?"
Shiori clenched her fists with excitement.
"It's when thousands of fans came together to paralyze enemy forums! Today we gathered more than 30,000 girls to destroy the Japanese Mystery Association site and demand an apology."
Takumi stopped writing.
"Why?"
"Do you want to know?" Shiori leaned into the screen, as if telling a personal secret.
"Yesterday, a girl from the group went to promote Detective Conan on that forum, and they destroyed it. They said the characters were ugly. That the story was absurd. That the author was a clown. And that the readers—us—were fools without taste!"
His voice trembled with rage.
"All because Detective Conan is more popular than his boring novels. They can't stand to see us shine. And on top of that, they dared to insult my male god!"
Male God...?
Takumi swallowed.
"Who is your male god?"
Shiori blinked with all the confidence of someone who knew the truth of the universe.
"Need it be said?" Smiled. "Conan, of course! Japan's number one young detective. The best male protagonist in manga."
Takumi said nothing.
Inside, a part of him shouted:
'Is my own character your god...?'