"This way!"
Shiori led Takumi down the security corridor of the internet café, with a couple of elementary school students running after them.
Outside, a patrol car was parked in front of the premises. Two policemen were watching. A group of people ran to the end of the alley, where a wall of six or seven meters rose without supports. There was no way out.
"I'll go first.
Without hesitation, Shiori pushed herself forward and nimpily climbed to the top. The boys were stunned.
"Takumi, quick!"
He adjusted his hat and held out his hand.
"Can you...?" he hesitated.
But before he could question it, he remembered the kick she had given to the booth days before. He ran and jumped. Shiori grabbed it firmly.
"Mmf!" she growled, as she helped him up.
"Wow, sister, how rude you are!"
"Help us too!" They shouted from below.
Shiori didn't answer. He fell on the other side with Takumi, and they both disappeared into a side street.
Minutes later, still with adrenaline in his blood, Takumi couldn't help but review what had happened. Shiori had a small body, but a strength that bordered on the impossible. It was fast, intuitive, disconcerting. He had already decided: he would start training. He would not be left behind.
Once at home, he contacted Kurosawa to find out what had happened to the holy war.
After Mirai's publication on the official Hinotori Publishing website, thousands of fans reacted instantly. The answers multiplied. Eventually, the server crashed.
But the message had an effect.
Detective Conan's followers began to calm down. The Japanese Mystery Association issued a formal apology, and the most intense groups withdrew. Even hackers disappeared from the radar.
The holy war was over.
Kurosawa, satisfied, summed up the moment:
"You'll see Detective Conan on TV soon, Takumi. You did it. You're about to become a Japanese manga star.
That night, Aiko returned early.
"I quit my job," he said, as he prepared dinner. I'm not going to let you move in alone. I'm going with you to Osaka.
Takumi felt his heart shrink with excitement. In his other life, that had never happened.
The day before leaving, the house was filled with relatives. Upon learning that Aiko and Takumi would be moving to Osaka, many brought gifts and envelopes with money.
"Aiko, the city is expensive!" Here, please.
"Takumi has a great future!" Don't let it lack anything.
He felt an unexpected warmth. In his previous life, those same people had avoided him after the death of his mother. Then he thought they hated him. But now he understood: they were just disappointed.
He had missed Aiko. But this time... He was not going to disappoint her.
"No, really. We don't need money," Aiko said, with a firm smile.
Takumi was independent. He earned his own royalties. And she was proud.
That night, they served rice, sashimi, grilled fish, and broth with miso. For the first time in years, Takumi felt peace.
During dinner, Uncle Masaki turned on the TV. He never missed his favorite program: Law and Education.
"This case exposes how little our young people know about legality," said one of the experts. And we need cultural works that reinforce that education.
Another panelist chimed in:
—Recently, my daughter read an incredible manga: Detective Conan. After reading it, he asked me: "Dad, is what the character is doing a crime?"
There was a few laughs on set.
—That is cultural pedagogy. Teach without preaching. Educate with entertainment.
Aiko put down her chopsticks halfway. Takumi froze.
"What's wrong?" Masaki asked.
"Nothing, nothing," Aiko said, avoiding her gaze. But when Masaki looked at the TV again, he searched for Takumi with his eyes. He nodded slightly.
Yes, it was his sleeve. And yes, they were mentioning it in prime time.
The next day, both left for Osaka. Before leaving, Takumi wrote to Shiori:
I'm leaving for Osaka. See you there.
She replied instantly:
So soon? Classes haven't started yet! See you on campus.
Takumi smiled. It was the beginning of a new life.
Three days later, they got off the train at Osaka Station. Fresh air. The urban bustle. Everything smelled new.
There were Kurosawa and Haruki Suno. But next to them, someone else was waiting for them.
A tall, blonde woman with a beige blazer and an elegant bag.
"Takumi, welcome back to Osaka!" Kurosawa exclaimed, giving him a strong embrace.
Then he introduced it:
"This is your exclusive editor: Alice.
She smiled and bowed slightly:
"Nice to meet you, Mirai-sensei. My name is Alice. Sometimes I look like a foreigner, but I was born in Japan. And the manga edition... it is my vocation.
Takumi tilted his head, somewhat confused... and expectant.
I knew that the royal road began now.
"This case demonstrates the deficiencies in the education of our young people. Is it an isolated phenomenon? No. Many teens commit crimes without knowing that what they're doing is illegal. It is not enough to teach norms in school: we need cultural tools that reinforce that awareness."
—An original manga called Detective Conan was recently released. After reading it, my seven-year-old daughter asked me, "Dad, what things are considered crimes?" another panelist recounted, smiling.
—That is cultural pedagogy! This type of work should be promoted. Purposeful entertainment, which forms while entertaining.
At the table, Takumi Sato stood motionless, his chopsticks stopped halfway. Aiko, her mother, opened her eyes in surprise and lowered the bowl awkwardly.
"What's wrong?" asked Uncle Masaki, puzzled. "Do you feel bad?"
"No, it's nothing," she murmured, looking back at her rice.
When no one was paying attention, he looked at Takumi and whispered to him almost without moving his lips:
"Are they referring to your manga?"
Takumi nodded slightly. I didn't expect it. And even less so in that context.
The Law and Education program was broadcast on the national channel in prime time, and competed in audience with the newscast. Every word had weight. To hear experts talk so openly about Detective Conan... left his stomach spinning.
Was that what Kurosawa had meant when he mentioned that "you would soon see him on television"?
Or had she already gone out more times and he had just never noticed?
The next day, still with their minds turned up, Takumi and Aiko set out on their journey to Osaka.
Before leaving, Takumi sent a message to Shiori:
"I'm already going to Osaka. See you there."
The answer came immediately:
"So soon? Classes have not yet started. I'll arrive just in time for the first day. See you at school!"
The reason for his advance was simple: Kurosawa had already found him a house, and he needed to adapt to the environment and prepare for editorial deliveries.
After a night of travel, on the third morning, mother and son got off the train. The season was bustling, with the familiar aroma of coffee and freshly baked bread. The scene was vaguely familiar to him... with a difference.
There were Kurosawa and Haruki Suno, waiting for them. But this time, there was someone else with them.
A blonde woman, with an elegant bearing. He was a little less than Kurosawa, probably six feet tall. She was wearing a beige blazer and a bag decorated with fountain pens.
"Takumi, welcome back to Osaka!"
Kurosawa was the first to approach. His face radiated enthusiasm. She hugged him tightly:
"I have been waiting for this day with all my heart. I can finally breathe easy.
Mirai-sensei had become the brightest jewel of Hinotori Publishing. And those words, while dramatic, were not out of place.
After the greetings, Kurosawa introduced:
"Let me introduce you to your exclusive editor..." Alice.
She smiled with professional grace, and bowed slightly:
"Nice to meet you, Mirai-sensei. My name is Alice. Although I look like a foreigner, I am Japanese born here... and an editor by vocation.