The case at the Mihua City Library was closed quickly.
That was likely due to the fact that Shuji Tsugawa, the drug dealer director, confessed without resistance, detailing every aspect of his cris as soon as the police asked.
When the incident made it into the newspapers, it sparked widespread conversation.
After all, the Mihua Library had been around for many years. Practically everyone in Mihua City had stepped into it at so point... and now, the director was revealed to have been using the books as a front for drug trafficking, even going so far as to murder an employee who discovered his secret. It was chilling.
"Aunt Eri, what day is tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow should be the 7th."
"May?"
"It's April."
—
It was nightti.
Seated at the midnight snack table, Hayashi Yoshiki and Kisaki Eri had just finished their conversation.
Eri's grip on her cup tightened slightly.
She frowned, then looked carefully at Yoshiki, clearly concerned.
"Yoshiki-kun..."
"Hmm?"
"Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"
...
Yoshiki's face stiffened slightly.
Kisaki Eri cautiously said, "You seem to be having trouble rembering dates recently."
"Maybe I'm just sleep-deprived. I've been overthinking my new book."
"Didn't it just co out? There's no need to work yourself this hard."
Her voice softened, filled with maternal concern. "And you've been reading a lot of psychology books lately. Is sothing bothering you?"
"Not exactly."
Yoshiki hesitated, then decided to tell the truth.
"It's just... I can't keep track of what date cos next. Like, I can't tell if tomorrow is the 8th, 9th, or sothing else."
"Any other symptoms?"
"None."
He smiled. "It's honestly not a big deal. I just check my phone every morning when I wake up. It's fine."
"No, Yoshiki, that's not sothing to ignore."
Eri shook her head.
She was a rational person, but Yoshiki's recent behavior worried her deeply. Still, she made sure not to pressure him with panic.
Her expression turned serious. "If it didn't matter to you, you wouldn't have been reading so many psychotherapy books in secret."
...
"Maybe we should see a doctor. I'll make an appointnt tomorrow, okay?"
"But aren't you busy with legal cases lately?"
Before she could answer, Yoshiki smiled and said gently, "I'll go myself. Do you know a good psychiatrist? I've been thinking about trying hypnotherapy."
"Let check with a colleague."
Relieved that he wasn't resistant to the idea, Eri picked up her phone and quickly reached out to her network.
Yoshiki waited patiently.
He had been anticipating this mont.
His diagnosis would likely be labeled as "ti disorientation."
He hadn't hidden his trouble with ti perception on purpose—after all, it gave him a legitimate reason to dive deep into psychological studies and seek out a skilled hypnotherapist.
Finding soone competent who could also be persuaded required both planning and a natural excuse.
After a short while:
"Dr. Kyosuke Fudo at Beika Pharmacy Hospital. He has a solid reputation in the industry," said Eri. "Many officers from the tropolitan Police go to him."
"Dr. Kyosuke Fudo..."
"So, what do you think? If you're okay with it, I'll set the appointnt."
"Please schedule it for tomorrow at three."
"Got it."
Though efficient and decisive, Eri always took Yoshiki's wishes into consideration.
"Really, you don't have to worry so much, Aunt Eri."
Dr. Kyosuke Fudo was a poised, elegant man.
He looked to be in his mid-thirties, always dressed ticulously in professional attire, exuding a sense of calm competence.
"Mr. Hayashi, please have a seat."
He welcod Yoshiki with a warm smile and a clipboard in hand.
"I understand from your file that you're having trouble tracking the passage of days. Is that correct?"
"Yes. For example, I think tomorrow should be April 8th."
"I see..."
Without losing his calm, Dr. Fudo continued, "Can you perceive short-term ti accurately? Like morning, afternoon, or ti intervals?"
"No issues there. I know it'll be 4 PM in about an hour."
"And aside from this ti confusion, any issues with concentration, mory, or understanding language?"
"Not at all."
"Understood. Then your problem seems localized to longer ti intervals."
Dr. Fudo scribbled notes onto the chart.
"Would you mind undergoing a few more tests? It would help us determine whether this is psychological or neurological."
"No problem at all."
Dr. Fudo seed convinced it was psychological but ordered CT and MRI scans just to rule out anything structural.
Thanks to his status, everything was expedited. Within 30 minutes, they returned to the consultation room.
"The scans are clean. Your brain is perfectly normal."
"Psychologically, you also appear well-adjusted. No anxiety, no signs of depression."
"When did you first notice this issue?"
"Hard to say. I've been able to recall the past without problems."
"Interesting..."
The doctor leaned forward thoughtfully.
"Let's test your reasoning: if today is April 7, what do you believe tomorrow will be?"
"April 8, naturally. Because 8 cos after 7."
"But tomorrow is April 13, Mr. Hayashi."
...
That was a blow.
Yoshiki's calm expression didn't falter, but the smile faded ever so slightly.
He wasn't confused. He knew this was the world's inconsistency, not his own.
That's why he never called Fudo "doctor," only "Mr." He recognized that the disorder wasn't truly his.
"Perhaps this is similar to actors who get too imrsed in a role,"Fudo offered. "You're a novelist, after all. Maybe you've internalized sothing unintentionally."
"I've read about that," said Yoshiki, nodding. "I even ca across hypnotic suggestion in my research. Could hypnosis therapy help?"
"It might. Would you like so book recomndations too?"
"That would be great."
They discussed several books, and Fudo appreciated Yoshiki's thoughtful and well-read deanor.
"Let's talk about the deeper aning of 'ti disorientation'," he continued.
"In psychology, ti is your sense of placent in the world. 'Person' defines your role. 'Place' grounds you in culture. And 'Ti' defines your very existence."
"Ti is the positioning of existence..."
That struck Yoshiki deeply.
He wasn't from this world, not originally. And that detachnt from "existence" might be what caused this disorientation.
"We can begin hypnosis therapy."
"Thank you, Mr. Fudo. But can hypnosis really induce hallucinations?"
"In theory, yes. The human subconscious is vast and largely unexplored."
"But let's set reasonable expectations,"Fudo added with a weary smile. "We don't want to expect magic."
"Understood. Let's begin."
Yoshiki's smile was soft and almost ghostlike.
As Dr. Fudo began guiding him into a relaxed state, a faint red light flickered in his vision.
He didn't know it yet, but Hayashi Yoshiki had already begun releasing a colorless hypnotic gas since entering the room.
Leaning forward slightly, Yoshiki's eyes glimred as he spoke softly.
"Mr. Fudo."
"Yes?"
"When hypnotized, people are more likely to accept suggestion. Wouldn't you say visual cues are even more effective than verbal ones?"
The session ended after one hour, excluding the imaging exams.
On his way out of Beika Pharmacy Hospital, Yoshiki made a call to Kisaki Eri.
He explained that everything was fine—just simple "ti disorientation" with no major impact on daily life. This reassured her, at least on the surface.
He had gotten what he ca for.
Yoshiki scheduled weekly follow-up appointnts with Fudo Kyosuke.
And it wasn't even 4:30 yet.
Waiting at a red light, Yoshiki made another call.
"Hello, Yoko?"
"I'm done on my end. How's filming going?"
"Half an hour? That works. Send the address, I'll head over."
"Of course not, it's no trouble."
"See you soon."
After hanging up, he turned the wheel.
Yoko Okino had finished shooting early. She'd invited him to try that Chinese restaurant they'd talked about.
Hayashi Yoshiki rarely turned people down.
Especially when he could turn dinner into another step in his plan.
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