Wednesday morning, the living room door swung open. Kimisaki Kaito was drying his hands with a towel after finishing the dishes when Siesta Rei stood up from the sofa in a white one-piece dress with a cardigan draped over it—and her expression was different than usual. Different, that is—she didn't look sleepy. Siesta Rei. Silver long hair with a blue ribbon. Bright violet eyes. Usually she'd still be lying on the sofa past nine in the morning, but today she was already awake, and standing with her back straight. "[serious]Today is a special day," Her voice had weight to it. Kaito set the towel on the counter. "What is?" "[gentle]Fiamma's founding anniversary—two years, isn't it? Will you call everyone over?" Now that she mentioned it, it was true. About two years ago, Siesta had reached out, and the team was formed. They'd filed the paperwork with the Veritas Detective Council and officially started operating as "Fiamma"—it did seem like it was around this time. Kaito stepped into the hallway. "Natsunagi, Saiga, Shal—come to the living room for a sec," After a moment, a door opened. Natsunagi poked her head out. "[excited]What?" "[serious]Gather up. Apparently it's the founding anniversary," "[surprised]Huh, seriously? I'll come by later," The door closed. Saiga's door opened slightly too. "[serious]I heard. I've got plans today, but I'll come by later," The door closed quietly. Shal didn't answer. The balcony window was slightly open. When Kaito peeked out, Shal was standing on the balcony with both arms spread wide, breathing slowly. Eyes closed. "[serious]Shal, we're gathering up," "[gentle]A quiet meditation is best for anniversaries. I wouldn't want to intrude," With that, she closed her eyes again. Kaito returned to the living room. Siesta was sitting alone on the sofa. She held a cushion to her lap, tilting her head slightly. "...So who's coming?" "[sarcastic]Nobody," Siesta froze for exactly one second. Then she let out a small breath. She didn't look hurt at all—she simply lay down naturally. Her silver hair spread across the cushion. "[gentle]I see," "That's it?" "[gentle]Everyone's probably celebrating in their own way. I'll do it mine—" Her eyes were closed. "[sarcastic]You're sleeping," No answer came. Kaito pressed his hand to his forehead. He was left alone in the living room. Morning light came through the window, illuminating the table. Fiamma's second anniversary. Everyone he'd called was gone, and the person who'd called them fell asleep first. —Well, can't be helped. He grabbed his wallet and headed for the entrance. Hanamichi Street shopping arcade smelled like morning. The smell of hot oil from the croquettes at the deli Delica Minato, the cold smell of water-sprayed vegetables from the greengrocer. It was the time of day when people were starting to fill the arcade. Next to Delica Minato was a small cake shop. "Patisserie Repose." A local place, with small whole cakes lined up in the display window. Kaito chose the smallest whole cake. Strawberry shortcake. Too small for six people, but since probably only two would be gathering in the living room today, it was actually just right. "[gentle]Shall I add candles?" "[serious]Two, please," When he returned to Maison Flügel, Siesta was still sleeping on the sofa. Same position as before, still holding the cushion. Kaito pulled out paper napkins from the kitchen drawer and spread them on the table. He placed the cake in the center and stuck two candles in it. A small cake, white napkins, and two candles stuck in at a slight angle. It might not qualify as decoration, but for doing it alone, it was decent enough. "...Well, this'll do," "[surprised]You did this all by yourself, Kimisaki?" He turned around. Siesta was propped up on one elbow, looking at him. Her eyes were slightly wider than usual. Different from her usual slack expression—a slightly surprised face. "[sarcastic]Of course. You were sleeping," "[gentle]..." Siesta started to say something, then closed her mouth. Then, quietly, very quietly, "[whispers]Thank you," she said. Her voice was too soft. The coffee maker was gurgling, so it didn't reach Kaito's ears. "Huh?" "[gentle]Let's cut the cake," Siesta was already standing up from the sofa. Her expression was back to normal. For just a moment, Kaito felt like something had been said to him. But he couldn't tell what. The moment to ask had already passed. He opened the refrigerator to get a knife. "...Oh," There it was. Confiserie Luce's "Classic Pudding." Three hundred twenty yen each. The kind they sell at Super Maruhiro. That pudding that's been in the back of the fridge forever. It should be past its expiration date, but today it was sitting there with the same face as yesterday. "How long has this pudding been here?" It came out of his mouth. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. Behind him came a crisp sound. He turned around. Siesta was opening a bag of cookies. She took one out and popped it in her mouth. "[serious]That pudding has meaning," "Huh?" Kaito let go of the refrigerator. He turned around. He looked at Siesta. "What do you—" "[gentle]Do you prefer more strawberries? Or more whipped cream?" Siesta was already facing the cake. The pudding conversation was over. "...More strawberries," "[gentle]Then have that side," The two of them sat at the table. Siesta looked at the candles in front of the cake. Two candles. "[gentle]Two candles for two years," "That's right," He searched for a lighter but couldn't find one. While he was rummaging through drawers, Siesta reached up to the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a lighter without hesitation. "[sarcastic]How'd you know it was there?" "[gentle]I'm a detective," The candles lit. Two small flames, flickering. There was a quiet anniversary with just the two of them in the living room. "But," Kaito spoke while looking at the candles. "If Siesta hadn't existed, Fiamma wouldn't exist in the first place," "[gentle]That's true," Siesta answered easily while cutting the cake with a fork. "[gentle]I've been thinking about forming a team since I got the title," "That was—five years ago?" "[gentle]Yes. They said I was the youngest. Fourteen at the time," As she spoke, Siesta stifled a yawn. She covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes had a slight glimmer of moisture. Kaito stopped his fork. At fourteen, she'd received the title of Master Detective from the International Detective Agency. A title only seven people in the world held. And from that time, she was already thinking about forming a team—she was telling this story while yawning. (This person really has done incredible things.) He knew it. He knew it, but hearing it again made the weight feel different. And at the same time, the question of what he was doing in this team came creeping back into his chest. The same thing he'd felt on Monday. That sensation of standing there holding a numbered ticket. "[serious]What am I even doing for this team?" He hadn't meant to say it out loud. But it came out. Siesta's hand stopped. She slowly set down her fork and looked at Kaito. Her violet eyes were pointed directly at him. The sleepy eyes had become slightly clearer. Silence stretched for several seconds. "[gentle]...Why are you saying that today?" It wasn't an accusatory tone. Just slightly puzzled. "[serious]Because it's the anniversary, I guess. I was thinking about what I've been doing for two years," "[gentle]You made breakfast every day," "That's not detective work," "[sarcastic]I don't think that," Siesta said just that and pulled out another cookie. This time she held it in her hand instead of putting it in her mouth. "[gentle]If you weren't here, some days nobody would eat breakfast. That's probably more important than you think," "..." He tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come. "[sarcastic]Well, that's how it is," His usual catchphrase came out. Siesta laughed quietly. Or rather, her mouth just curved slightly. But she was definitely smiling. The two of them ate the cake. The candle flame flickered. That night, the liveliness of the team faded. Natsunagi came back in the evening saying "Sorry about earlier!" and ate the rest of the cake. Saiga silently wiped away the melted wax from the candles before leaving. Shal came to the living room at night, ate a small piece of the remaining cake, said "It was a good anniversary," and returned to her room. Kaito went back to his room and sat at his desk. He pulled out a leather-bound notebook from the drawer. A diary he'd bought at Caligraphy-do. He picked up a ballpoint pen and wrote. —It was the anniversary, but I went to buy the cake alone. I decorated it alone too. He paused the pen slightly. —I can't stop thinking about what Siesta said. The pudding has meaning. —But if I asked, I feel like she'd laugh it off, so I couldn't ask. —What does that mean? Who bought that pudding? How long has it been in our fridge? He set down the pen and looked out the window. The night in Tomami Ward was quiet. Streetlight fell into the alley. Behind the apartment, a narrow dark passage. —Oh. There was a figure. Just for a moment. A hooded figure in dark clothes. Someone was definitely standing in the depths of the alley. Kaito stood up. He pulled the curtain wide open. The alley was empty. Only the streetlight illuminated the ground. The leaves rustled slightly. That was all. He'd seen something similar outside the window on Monday. He'd thought it was his imagination then. It might be his imagination now too. Maybe his night vision was just bad. But tonight, he couldn't convince himself it was just his imagination. A vague unease remained. Kaito returned to his desk and added just one more line to his diary. —It might be my imagination. But it might not be. He closed the diary. The leather cover touched his fingertips. The mystery of the pudding, the identity of the shadow—the night continued with no answers.