23:17
Black Widow Bar
A few black-clad figures sat at the brightly lit counter, each with a cocktail, the mood relaxed.
"You guys better not mess with Cointreau."
"His kills are just… unreal."
"Like he can pull it off anytime, any way… without even showing his face."
"Aniki says he's got a dark streak."
"All smiles on the outside, but probably plotting murders in his head…"
"Maybe even got some mental issues."
Vodka, a bit tipsy, let his tongue loosen.
Some things spooked him too much to keep bottled up, and Gin never humored these talks. But with Chianti and Cohen here, and everyone on good terms…
"Vodka-san."
A soft male voice cut through as Vodka paused for a sip.
He spun around instinctively.
One look—
"C-Cointreau?!"
His cigarette fell onto his lap, mouth agape.
Hayato Masaki stood behind him.
A smile graced his handsome face, but his eyes held a cryptic depth. "I thought we were friends."
Vodka froze, gut churning.
He gripped his thigh to steady his shaking, stammering, "W-We're totally friends."
Hayato Masaki ignored him, turning to the busy bartender. "A lemonade, please."
"Sure, one sec."
It'd take a moment—the bartender was mixing Vodka's latest order.
The burly man shot to his feet.
"Hold mine. Make the lemonade first."
"Got it."
The bartender complied.
As the lemonade was prepped and set before Hayato Masaki, the tense silence pushed Vodka to scramble for a fix.
"Cointreau, what brings you here?"
Chianti leaned back from the counter, eyeing him.
"Gin asked, so I came," Hayato Masaki said.
Gin had stepped out to take a call, and Hayato Masaki slipped in just as the door opened, unnoticed by Vodka.
"Cointreau…"
"Don't worry, I'm not that petty."
Seeing Vodka's guilty look, Hayato Masaki sipped his lemonade.
Vodka nodded, unconvinced.
Noticing how stiff he'd gone, Hayato Masaki added, "How about you take off those shades and let me see?"
"…What's there to see?"
Vodka grumbled but complied swiftly, pulling off his sunglasses.
His eyes were sharp, almost fierce, with double eyelids…
Hayato Masaki noted it, filing it away.
—Vodka's real name and face, secured.
The Death Note needed both to work, and Vodka's shades had always obscured enough to make it useless before.
Gin walked in then.
He glanced at Vodka and Hayato Masaki, sat nearby, and said, "No fighting among members."
Hayato Masaki didn't reply, just drank more lemonade.
After that Curaçao earlier, he was done with alcohol for the night.
Chianti stayed quiet, not pushing her usual "Chianti-Cointreau mix" spiel.
"How'd you know we were there?"
Gin's question came out of nowhere.
"Hm?"
"Your texts, timed back-to-back for a twist. That means you knew we were close by."
"…You guys were at the scene?"
Hayato Masaki sounded genuinely surprised.
He'd planned the reversal for Gin to catch later via security footage—easy enough for the Organization to pull.
Gin studied him, saw no deceit, and let it slide… mostly because he figured Hayato Masaki had no reason for a pointless lie.
Too obvious a slip for someone sharp.
"You did well, but keep it quieter next time."
Killing two extra people for one target.
No way Gin bought this guy as a mole.
"What's the big deal? A reckless speeder and a plastered deadbeat—both check out, don't they?"
"Hmph. We'll set you up for a full psych eval soon. You'll get the details."
"…"
Hayato Masaki's silent stare met Gin's unflinching gaze.
Vodka sipped his drink quietly, thinking, That's Aniki for you—doesn't even flinch with Cointreau.
Wait!
His hand froze.
He and Gin were always paired up, both maybe ticking off Cointreau… If the guy was really petty, wouldn't their odds of an "accident" double?
The counter fell silent.
So quiet that Hayato Masaki chuckled.
"Everyone's awfully calm tonight."
"Tch, if it weren't for you, Cointreau, I'd have bagged at least two heads!"
Chianti still fumed.
Hayato Masaki mused.
Chianti and Cohen were tools—point, shoot, no need to worry about fallout or cleanup.
"Does the Organization have dedicated… clean-up crews?"
"What're you scheming?"
"Nothing, just curious."
"Of course we do. Don't stir up trouble."
Gin answered.
Clearly, after Hayato Masaki's string of successes, Gin was warming up—less icy, actually bothering to reply now.
Hayato Masaki lingered a bit, downed two more lemonades, then stood to leave.
Outside the Black Widow, he stepped onto the street.
He pulled out a notebook, flipped to the active pages, and burned them to ash with a lighter.
Flames flickered in his dark eyes.
The speeder who crashed into the wall? A rich kid who'd killed a pregnant woman and walked free.
The drunk who fell from the building? A chronic abuser who beat his family senseless.
Using such people as pawns left Hayato Masaki unfazed—comforted, even.
Bzzt~!
"Hayato-kun, heading to bed?"
"I'm about done tidying up."
"Oh, and tomorrow's May 7th!"
Yoko Okino's text came a tad late tonight.
"? ?o.o` ?"
No emoji.
Bzzt~
There it was.
Hayato Masaki smiled faintly, then noticed her date…
Whatever, used to it.
***
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