Hayato Masaki woke at 8:37 a.m.
After freshening up, he checked his phone. It was Monday.
No new messages.
Since texting Gin about completing the task that night, there'd been no reply.
Hayato didn't mind.
Breakfast was a cup of coffee and two slices of toast. Then he headed out.
Today's agenda had two items: head to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department to give statements and register as a detective, then check out cars.
At the appointed time, he arrived at the police department and was greeted by a young officer.
"You must be Hayato Masaki, Masaki-san? I'm Wataru Takagi from Division One. This way, please."
"Thank you, Takagi-keiji."
Takagi led Hayato inside. The station was surprisingly bright, with Division One's office resembling a corporate workspace.
"It's so clean. I thought a detective division would be messy, littered with cigarette butts," Hayato said.
"You've been misled by crime dramas, Masaki-san," Takagi replied with a laugh.
He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "But, just between us, I hear Osaka's police department might actually be like that."
"Really? I'd love to see it sometime."
"Oh?"
Hayato had heard rumors.
Compared to Tokyo's police, Osaka's were wilder—gruff, with rolled Rs, acting more like gang members than some actual yakuza while working cases.
Takagi pulled files from his desk, flipping through them. "Alright, Masaki-san, you'll need to give three statements: one for the Beika TV station case, one for the Yoko Okino-san incident, and one for the Minagawa family case from Valentine's Day."
"Please go in order of when they happened," Hayato said with a smile.
By the calendar, the Valentine's Day case on February 14 was the earliest, while the TV station and Yoko Okino cases occurred in March.
Yet, despite Hayato's request, Takagi started with the TV station case, then Yoko Okino's ex-boyfriend's suicide, and finally the Valentine's Day case.
Hayato realized that, in this world, calendar dates held little meaning. Only the subjective and objective passage of time mattered.
I should test if the Death Note is affected by this…
While pondering, Hayato cooperated with Takagi to record the statements.
When finished, Takagi filed the documents and stood, extending a hand. "Thank you, Masaki-san. You've been a huge help coming in for this."
"No trouble at all. While I'm here, I'd like to register as a detective. Is that something you can handle, Takagi-keiji?"
"Uh…"
Takagi froze, looking embarrassed. He seemed clueless about the process, apologized, and hurried off to consult a senior.
Honest and polite guy…
Moments later, a sharp-looking female officer approached with Takagi in tow.
"Masaki-san, I'm Miwako Sato."
"Sato-keiji."
Hayato shook her hand.
"Takagi's new and doesn't know the ropes, so I'll take over," Sato said, pulling a file from a drawer with a smile. "You want to register your detective activities with the department, right?"
"I'm not entirely clear on the details, but Kogoro Mouri-san recommended I come here to register," Hayato replied warmly.
"You mean that 'Sleeping Kogoro,' the famous detective?" Takagi perked up.
Lately, Conan, the kid backing Kogoro Mouri, had been making waves, landing the detective in the news.
"Sleeping Kogoro" was gaining fame.
"Registration is just leaving your name with us," Sato explained, smiling. "Some detectives' methods—like tailing or sneaking around—aren't exactly encouraged. If someone being investigated reports them, we can't ignore it."
"I see," Hayato nodded.
So, registering meant the department might go easier on such activities.
"Also, in tough cases, we might ask detectives for help, though that's rare. Either way, we're happy to have skilled detectives like you, Masaki-san, register with us."
In this world, detectives and police worked hand in hand.
Kogoro Mouri's ability to linger at crime scenes and steer investigations proved as much.
Even in Osaka, Heiji Hattori, a high school detective and son of a police chief, could sometimes rally officers to assist him, showing a healthy police-detective relationship.
Hayato completed his registration.
Since Sato handled the paperwork, they exchanged contact info.
Takagi seemed a bit bothered, watching from the side.
Hayato gave him a reassuring smile.
He left the station around 10 a.m.—early enough to look at cars.
He'd planned to wait for newer tech before buying one, but not having a car was inconvenient.
***
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