Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

So—
What should be done next?

He lowered his head, gazing at Asami-senpai’s childlike, innocent sleeping face as she was immersed in deep slumber. Her completely unguarded, relaxed expression—right now, even if he played a small prank on her, she probably wouldn’t notice… but.

It was time to move quickly.

The Novelist stood up.

“I won’t let there be any new victims—”

He recalled the serious and uncharacteristically grim expression on Asami Yuko’s face when she made that declaration. Perhaps she had worn the same expression during the investigation briefing! That must be why Kazuki-san had paid special attention to this point when they met earlier.

The current Asami-senpai surely harbored thoughts completely different from her younger self; otherwise, she couldn’t have become one of the detectives she once disliked.

The grown-up Asami Yuko now understood that detectives and police officers were constantly seeking the truth of cases and catching culprits—they existed in a world born from tragedy, standing in the aftermath of death, working to forge a future for those still living… Such work was far from worthless.

Even so.

“There won’t be any new victims—”

That little girl who sat in front of the TV, hoping that no one in the program would die and everyone would find happiness, surely still lived in her heart.

And so, Senpai had once again made that declaration before him and the police officers, as if taking a solemn oath.

That was “something” Asami Yuko had always strived and fought for—that was the only way to see it.

“…That’s right.”

The Novelist couldn’t help but smile.

“If she were a protagonist in a story.”

After making such a determination and saying such a cool line, how could she possibly continue to remain helpless?

Afterward, he walked toward the archives room door and asked a female police officer passing by to look after the sleeping Senpai.

Before leaving, the Novelist suddenly had an urge to pinch Asami-senpai’s cheeks. However, he quickly abandoned this idea.

He’d collect his reward later! In exchange, he’d have to make the mistress deliver it personally, along with a shy and adorable expression as a bonus.

Ten minutes later.

The Novelist was driving toward Asayama Private General Hospital, a well-known private hospital in Tokyo.

He had been here twice before.

The first time was to visit a former psychiatrist named Shirakawa Keigo.

The second time was to meet Yayoi, who had planned to kill Niwa Daizo with an injection.

…Nothing good had ever happened at this place. It was what people called “bad luck.”

“Wait, you can stop here.”

After asking the taxi driver to stop nearby, he got out and walked toward the hospital.

The surrounding area was a bustling commercial street, a place he often visited on his days off.

Incidentally, Niwa Enterprises’ Sun Tower was also constructed nearby. Since time was of the essence, he didn’t have time to go elsewhere.

“I hope I’ll ‘be seen’ next…”

He muttered to himself, walking toward the hospital with familiar ease.

Seeking police support would theoretically be a better approach. But given the existence of what Asami-senpai called an “insider,” the Novelist decided not to consider these troublesome and headache-inducing matters until he could confirm the situation.

In fact, although what came next could be seen as the “final showdown with the culprit” round, his mood was mysteriously relaxed.

Because, after conversing with Asami-san in the archives room, the Novelist was in a state of unusual excitement.

“I’ve decided on the content of my new work!”

This was what people called “inspiration explosion.” For creators, there was nothing more wonderful than this state—dried-up thoughts beginning to flow again, creative bottlenecks resolved. At times like these, one could even defeat gods.

The “Great Detective” was a character who only showed their prowess on the stage of solving bizarre or strange cases. It was the story itself craving its narrator.

And right now.

There was no more perfect stage than the current “suicide wave” incident that had attracted widespread social attention.

“That’s right… the protagonist of my new work will be a high school girl who will be known as ‘Japan’s Police Savior’ in the future… based on a real-life JK detective… and the first stage will be a serial murder case involving the entire Tokyo area!”

Completely immersed in his thoughts, he muttered to himself, unconsciously arriving inside the hospital. Only when someone spoke to him did he recover from this state of deep contemplation.

“Hey young man, are you here to visit a patient? Want to bring some gifts up with you?”

Near the entrance of the inpatient building, a middle-aged man selling flowers, fruits, and oden under a canopy smiled and greeted him.

“Ah, ah, yes, that’s right.”

The Novelist answered instinctively.

…I didn’t expect they would still allow entry here?

While chatting with the man, he redirected his attention to the present.

The negotiation with the shop owner lasted for about five minutes. Finally receiving the other party’s nod of approval, the Novelist couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

“Well, it’s time for her debut, Miss Asami Yu—high school girl and detective—”

Thinking about topics unrelated to reality, the Novelist walked toward the lobby of the inpatient building.

“You’re asking about… Dr. Shirakawa?”

After hearing his inquiry, the nurse at the reception desk looked up in surprise.

“Ah, yes.”

“I’m sorry, but he has already resigned…”

“I know. I’d like to learn about the status of the items he left at his workplace from someone familiar with him. I’ve been commissioned by Dr. Shirakawa’s family; I apologize, but could you introduce me to someone who might know?”

The nurse stared suspiciously at the young man before her who maintained a professional smile but was clearly too young. After a while, she spoke.

“Kasai-san from the surgical department was a colleague of Dr. Shirakawa. She should know about it.”

“Kasai-san… Kasai Shino, is it?”

The Novelist’s gaze quickly swept over the duty roster hanging at the reception desk, then he walked toward the elevator.

However, instead of choosing to go to the second floor where Kasai-san was on duty, he took the elevator directly to the top floor.

Arriving at the entrance to the fourth floor, he then followed the quiet corridor deep into the hallway.

“Rooftops and I definitely don’t get along…”

He had complained about this before. The Novelist thought to himself as he pushed open the door leading to the hospital rooftop, which had already been opened by someone.

Howling wind struck his face, as if trying to uproot him and blow him into mid-air.

The Novelist narrowed his eyes and saw a young woman in a nurse’s uniform on a platform not far away.

…And a wheelchair that she was pushing toward the edge of the rooftop.