April 2nd was deemed an auspicious day by a shrine in Tokyo.
A good day for travel, accepting wealth, performing rituals, and praying for blessings.
No taboos in this particular day.
Using the Special Division for Unusual Powers as an intermediary, the Shibusawa family conveyed Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's wish to become Asou Akiya's disciple. When the message reached Akiya at the Port Mafia, he merely smiled with easy composure and replied that he would consider it. Accepting a disciple was no trivial matter—before making any decision, he wanted to meet Shibusawa Tatsuhiko in person.
The two met in a teahouse in Yokohama.
It was Akiya's first time seeing Tatsuhiko dressed in traditional Japanese attire, and he had to admit... the young man's appearance was exceptionally pleasing. The kimono stripped away the cold, detached aura he would possess as an adult, revealing a far gentler image.
Removing his shoes, Tatsuhiko stepped into the tatami room and calmly knelt opposite him.
His posture was flawless.
As expected of someone raised in one of Japan's great families.
As long as he wasn't displaying his eccentric side, the aloof and proud White Qilin was thoroughly deceptive. He looked exactly like the kind of student who, if sincerely taught, would respect his master, cherish his guidance, and forever regard him as the teacher who had shown him the way...
Well.
Anyone who thought that would probably die very peacefully inside their own fantasy.
Setting down his teacup, Asou Akiya adopted a posture that was slightly less formal than etiquette demanded. Yet thanks to the lessons he'd received from the retired government official, the way he sat still carried the quiet dignity of a teacher, naturally placing him in control of the conversation.
"The Shibusawa family has already contacted me. You want to become my disciple?"
"Akiya-san is qualified to teach me."
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's voice remained as ethereal as ever, carrying the weary indifference of someone who seemed to have already seen through the hearts of others, making it difficult for anyone to feel he was truly earnest.
That said, those two brutal lessons from society had not been in vain. After being tempered by Edogawa Ranpo and Nakahara Chuuya, he'd at least learned how to flatter people.
A faint smile curved Akiya's lips as he looked the young man over with ill intentions.
"Shibusawa-kun, I admit the benefits your family has offered are tempting. But I don't lack money, nor do I intend to enter politics. If you want to join my school..." His smile deepened. "It won't be nearly that easy."
The first obstacle had arrived.
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko knew exactly what was happening. There was even the faintest hint of provocation in his confidence. With the Shibusawa family's support, he had already succeeded halfway. All that remained was to earn Asou Akiya's acknowledgment.
As long as the conditions stayed within reasonable bounds, none of them would pose any real difficulty for him.
Acting as a disciple should, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko gracefully poured tea for Akiya, filling his cup to the brim.
"Akiya-san, I will not disappoint you."
Until he obtained the ability crystal of the High-Dimensional Observer, he would be the perfect disciple, offering his teacher whatever treasure his teacher desired.
Ignoring the insincerity behind those words, Akiya spoke frankly about his own experience.
"When my master accepted me as his disciple, he gave me three conditions."
"My master's lineage is passed down from teacher to student, so I, too, will give you three conditions. Consider them your trials."
"Do you have the confidence to complete them?"
The Port Mafia Analyst's dark eyes brimmed with amusement.
Though they had yet to become master and disciple, an invisible current surged between them, carrying an oddly palpable sense of danger.
With perfect composure, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko replied, "Please, go ahead."
Akiya answered briskly, "The first condition: make a set of clothes for me and my family. We must all be satisfied with them."
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko looked at him in silence for three seconds before a faint smile spread across his face. He lifted the hand resting on his knee and gave a light clap, signaling the people waiting outside.
Beyond the teahouse room, a servant of the Shibusawa family slid open the shoji door and knelt outside, holding a lacquered box in both hands.
At the sight of it, Akiya's expression subtly changed. He no longer dared underestimate him, and inwardly he was thoroughly shocked.
No way...
The most straightforward guy in the mastermind group is actually this shrewd...?
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko said, "My preparations weren't as thorough as they should have been. I assumed, Akiya-san, that you would only ask me to make clothing for you, so for the time being I've prepared only yours. It's a men's kimono suitable for viewing the cherry blossoms in spring. I'm fairly knowledgeable about these traditional techniques, so I've already finished making it."
As he listened to Tatsuhiko's explanation, Akiya turned his gaze toward the gift his prospective disciple had prepared as his offering upon requesting to study under him.
Excellent. Now he knew why the other party had taken so long to come.
So he'd been staying home every day, learning tailoring!
The image of the White Qilin threading a needle, painstakingly embroidering cloth, flashed through Asou Akiya's mind. He almost burst out laughing. Then he caught the servant's subtly awkward expression and felt an immense sense of accomplishment.
Running his fingers over the fine, meticulous stitching of the kimono, Akiya acknowledged the effort Tatsuhiko had poured into it.
"There are still three more sets. Remember to have them ready."
That settled the outfit for this year's cherry blossom viewing.
One less thing to buy. Akiya found Shibusawa Tatsuhiko just a little more pleasing to the eye.
Having long since memorized the measurements of the other three people, Tatsuhiko replied with ease, "I'll finish them within three days. Please tell me your second condition."
Akiya: Ohoh, he's that confident is he?
Akiya: Fine then. Time to pull out the big guns.
"The second condition," Akiya said, "is that you must conceal your real name and background, sign with Stewed Pigeon Publishing House, and publish a novel. The required theme is 'black magic.' Afterward, the publishing house will submit your work to a competition. You must win first place in this year's 'Seishun Award', which is open to participants between the ages of twelve and nineteen."
"..."
Every contingency Shibusawa Tatsuhiko had prepared instantly became useless.
The moment he heard the words black magic, his sense of shame resurfaced. He simply could not face all the things he'd done during his childhood. A frosty expression settled over his face.
"Akiya-san... give me one month."
Akiya interrupted him.
"The registration deadline for the Seishun Award is at the end of this month."
Tatsuhiko fell silent.
Looking at him with great expectations, Akiya continued, "I'll give you three days to make the clothes. Think about the story while you're sewing, then use the remaining time to write a novel that leaves everyone astonished."
"...Understood," Shibusawa Tatsuhiko replied.
This time, the absolute confidence Shibusawa Tatsuhiko had displayed in completing any task vanished completely. He would have to dredge up everything he knew about "black magic," sift through those memories for material worth using, and then write a novel capable of winning first place in the Seishun Award on its very first attempt.
For an ordinary person, such a challenge would have been enough to curse Asou Akiya out from head to toe.
But Shibusawa Tatsuhiko wasn't an ordinary person.
He was proud. If he was going to do something, then he would do it better than anyone else.
"Leave the apprenticeship gift with you for now," Akiya said. "Once you've finished everything, send it all to my home together."
Having successfully stumped Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, Akiya departed in high spirits, paying not the slightest attention to the hellish days that awaited the young man.
He had faith in the talents of people like this.
Push them a little, and their potential would emerge.
A second-dimensional, protagonist-level brain.
April arrived, bringing with it cherry blossom season.
Before the Asou family left to enjoy the blossoms, they received an anonymous package. Inside were four white-based kimono, each adorned with a different pattern.
The fabric was of exceptional quality, the craftsmanship exquisite, and the designs consisted of elegant, traditional Japanese embroidery. Simple, refined, and understated, each garment fit its wearer as though it had been custom-tailored.
Randou assumed Akiya had bought them.
"They're quite nice."
Edogawa Ranpo hurried back to his room to change into his kimono, then ran out excitedly.
"Akiya!"
Chuuya, on the other hand, wasn't very good at putting one on and quickly found himself at a loss.
When Randou noticed Chuuya still hadn't come out, he walked over and knocked on the door.
"Chuuya-kun, I'll help you."
Blushing, Chuuya opened the door.
Downstairs, Akiya and Ranpo waited for them. The family of four was dressed in matching white kimono, each distinguished by different embroidered patterns. Akiya's featured black motifs, Randou's pale green, Ranpo's chocolate brown, and naturally, the color that suited Chuuya best was orange.
Together, they headed out to admire the cherry blossoms.
Amid the drifting shower of pink petals, Akiya held a traditional Japanese round fan before his lips and quietly asked Randou, "What do you think of the clothes? Do they suit your taste?"
Without taking his eyes off the cherry blossoms, Randou replied, "They're not bad. Just a little too plain."
Akiya answered tactfully, "They were a gift from one of my disciples."
Randou: "..."
You've changed.
You've actually gone and taken on a disciple behind my back!
Randou smiled and asked, "Don't tell me... he made these clothes himself?"
"...Yes." Akiya tried his best not to look guilty. Taking on a disciple wasn't the same as adopting another child.
"I take it back," Randou said coolly. "These clothes are absolutely hideous."
Watching Randou storm off in anger, Akiya hurried after him.
"Randou! I swear I'll never bring him home! At most, I'll only teach him a few things about how to conduct himself—and only outside!"
Without slowing down, Randou ground out through clenched teeth, "You fooled me once. You fooled me twice. But you won't fool me a third time! Let me make this perfectly clear—there will never be a fifth person in this household!"
Seeing the two of them actually arguing, Chuuya was genuinely shocked.
"Why is Randou-san angry?"
Ranpo pointed at the kimono.
"Shibusawa Tatsuhiko made them."
Chuuya understood immediately.
His orange hair practically bristled.
"He's trying to join our family?!"
Popping a piece of konpeitō into his mouth, Ranpo said calmly, "Don't worry. Ranpo-sama already investigated everything beforehand. That guy hasn't succeeded in becoming Akiya's disciple yet. Akiya gave him three conditions. Whether we can stop him now depends on whether we can stop him from completing the second one."
Chuuya's expression turned serious.
"What do we have to do?"
Ranpo looked even graver than he did as he crunched another piece of konpeitō between his teeth.
"Publish a novel before the end of this month, win first place in the Seishun Award, and knock him out of first place!"
Chuuya was completely dumbfounded by Ranpo's lofty ambition.
The next second, he cried out in horror, "H-Hey! You're kidding, right? You seriously think we can pull that off? Just getting a publishing contract is already hard enough, let alone entering a competition and actually winning it!"
Ranpo puffed out his chest with absolute confidence.
"Akiya and Randou-san have been teaching us for so long!"
Chuuya wilted.
"...I'm a poet."
Ranpo waved his hand dismissively.
"Then hurry up and change careers. Go write a novel!"
Tears welled up in Chuuya's eyes.
Seeing Chuuya being so utterly lacking in fighting spirit, the calm façade Ranpo had been maintaining finally cracked. He looked as if he were about to cry himself.
"Chuuya, do your best! You've got a much better chance than I do!"
Chuuya stared at him darkly.
"So even you know the stuff you write is hopeless."
Ranpo let out a wronged little huff.
"Then let's take the shortcut."
"What shortcut?"
"We find an author who actually has a chance of winning the Seishun Award and get him to write another novel!"
Any new author between the ages of twelve and nineteen was eligible to enter the Seishun Award. The competition existed to discover promising new talent in Japan's literary world, and it didn't matter whether the entrant had published before or not.
At the moment, the person who best fit those requirements was the author of "Prison"—Oda Sakunosuke.
His short story "Prison" had been met with widespread acclaim. Its premise was fresh, its subject matter grounded in reality, and its plot carried a dry, understated humor. Reading it gave people the uncanny impression that the author really had spent his days in prison eating bowls of rice mixed with plain sugar.
After successfully shaking off his editor, who had been hounding him for a new manuscript, Oda Sakunosuke finally made it home.
Only to find himself blocked at his own front door.
Two ominous figures stood waiting for him.
On the left was a black-haired boy.
On the right was an orange-haired boy.
At that instant, Flawless activated.
Oda Sakunosuke saw several seconds into the future and froze where he stood, his body turning rigid. Cold sweat rolled down his back as he witnessed what would happen if he tried to run. Crushing pressure would descend on him from every direction, dark crimson light enveloping his entire body.
The boy on the left stepped forward with infectious enthusiasm.
"Mr. Assassin!"
Oda Sakunosuke replied flatly, "I changed professions."
This time, Edogawa Ranpo wasn't nearly as overbearing as usual. Instead, he sounded unexpectedly cautious, like a small animal nervously testing the waters.
"Do you... happen to have time to write a novel lately?"
"No."
Ranpo refused to give up. He hurriedly pulled an authorization document from Pigeon Stew Publishing out of his pocket, along with a flyer promoting the upcoming competition.
"Starting today, we're your editors!"
"..."
"The prize money is 30,000 yen!"
"..."
The former top-tier assassin, Oda Sakunosuke, remained completely unmoved. If it weren't for the person standing before him, he wouldn't have been driven out of the assassination business in the first place, forcing him to make a living through writing.
Chuuya sensed that something was off. Ranpo had told him this man was an elite assassin and that he was there to keep the situation under control, but no matter how he looked at it, Oda Sakunosuke seemed more like the one being bullied by Edogawa Ranpo. His entire body radiated a silent plea of, "Please stay as far away from me as possible. Every time I see you, something bad happens."
Chuuya tried to smooth things over. "Ranpo, if he doesn't want to, then forget it."
Ranpo shot back, "Do you want that guy to become Akiya's disciple?"
"Uh..." Chuuya faltered.
No, he definitely didn't.
Oda Sakunosuke suddenly spoke up. "What disciple?"
Ranpo immediately turned toward the red-haired boy who had taken the bait, his face breaking into a broad grin.
"Someone's planning to become Akiya's disciple. One of the conditions is writing a novel and winning first place in this year's Seishun Award. I think you've got a real chance of beating him!"
Now Oda Sakunosuke finally understood why the two of them had shown up at his door.
He answered evenly, "Whether Akiya-san wants to take on a disciple is Akiya-san's business."
"I'll be entering too!"
Ranpo suddenly declared it, stepping forward to issue his challenge at the top of his lungs.
"Oda Sakunosuke, do you dare defeat me in the world of novels?!"
"..."
Would beating you really be that difficult?
"I told you, this time I'm serious! I'm going to write a novel for everyone to read!"
"...?"
Oda Sakunosuke looked genuinely surprised.
He could see the fighting spirit blazing in Edogawa Ranpo's eyes—a look that only appeared when someone was prepared to devote everything they had to a single goal.
Ranpo tossed the documents into Oda Sakunosuke's arms.
"I can't beat you in a fight, but writing is a battle of brains. Every one of you will end up losing to me!"
Oda Sakunosuke fell silent.
Then, unexpectedly, the red-haired boy smiled.
It was a quiet smile, carrying a hint of unmistakable warmth.
The great detective who had sent him to prison time and time again—once he abandoned all those bizarre writing habits and truly settled down to write, what kind of captivating story would he produce?
Just imagining that future book lying on a desk waiting to be read was enough to make Oda Sakunosuke unable to suppress his curiosity.
"Alright."
For that reason alone, writing a novel... and fighting with everything he had...
It almost made his blood stir.
Afterward, Chuuya stood there in a daze, looking from side to side before pointing at himself with a finger.
"What about me?"
Ranpo was overjoyed.
"Little Orange Cat, you can't even enter the competition. I was just provoking you earlier, and you fell for it immediately."
"Huh?"
The Seishun Award only accepted contestants who were at least twelve years old.
Chuuya wasn't even eligible.
Which meant the only reason he'd been brought here—
was to keep Oda Sakunosuke from escaping???
...Damn it!!
I hope the three of you write yourselves into the ground!