**"Trouble?"**
Mōri Kogorō looked puzzled. "Fujino, my friend, if this gets reported, you'll be famous!"
Was Fujino being modest, or was this some kind of humblebrag?
If it were him, he'd be rushing to accept the interviews by now. After all, being famous meant more clients would come knocking, and that meant big commission fees.
The kids nearby didn't fully understand what it meant to be a celebrity, but they loved the idea of being interviewed.
"That's right! Just like Kamen Rider—a real hero!"
Fujino, however, didn't seem excited. "Hero or not, that's not the point. It's just annoying to be surrounded by reporters."
He glanced at the swarm of journalists gathered outside, shaking his head. "I bet if they get their hands on me, I won't be able to escape for at least a few hours..."
**"A few hours?"**
Ōoka Momiji narrowed her eyes slightly.
She had never been swarmed by reporters herself, but she could imagine it—Fujino being bombarded with endless questions from an aggressive crowd.
Yeah, that would be a hassle.
And if these people interfered with her plans, that would be even worse.
With that thought, she pulled out her phone.
"Iori, get rid of the reporters blocking the airport entrance."
Iori, dressed in a sleek black outfit, glanced at the reporters being held back by the police.
"Those guys? Got it. I'll handle it."
"Good. I'm counting on you," Momiji said, hanging up, looking satisfied.
The others stared at her, momentarily stunned.
Did she just make a single phone call and solve the problem?
Wait… he was just joking! Did she really take it that seriously?
Fujino sighed, feeling a little helpless.
"Uh… Miss Momiji, I get that dealing with a huge crowd is a pain, but interviews are inevitable. I didn't mean to chase them all away… I was hoping to have them come in batches. Maybe even land an exclusive interview or two."
In his mind, Fujino was already calculating how much he could earn from those reporters.
And now, with one call, his little money-making plan had been crushed.
That just wouldn't do.
**"…Is that so?"**
Considering Fujino's growing reputation as a detective, media interviews did make sense.
After all, most of the updates she got about him came from news reports and interviews.
Momiji thought for a moment before dialing Iori again.
"Iori, forget what I said earlier. Don't chase them all away. Just make sure they don't crowd too much. Yeah… they can still do interviews, but in batches later when there's time. That's all."
…
Momiji's call worked wonders.
Within minutes, the reporters received a phone call of their own. And just like that, without a single complaint, they quietly dispersed.
The air traffic control chief at Naha Airport rushed over with several men in suits.
He stepped forward and first inquired about Ōoka Momiji's well-being.
Judging by his demeanor, it seemed like he knew her…
After that, the chief shook hands with Fujino, much like a school principal offering encouragement to a student, exchanging a few polite words.
After a brief round of small talk, Fujino was invited to stay at a nearby five-star Japanese-style hot spring hotel.
To be fair, the airport was being quite considerate—the hotel stay was completely covered by them.
Coincidentally, Ōoka Momiji had also booked a room at the same hotel.
As for any kind of reward, since the incident happened so suddenly, it seemed like they still needed to discuss it. The airport staff didn't bring it up.
Fujino was patient—he didn't ask.
Surely, they wouldn't just give him nothing, right?
Otherwise, he might just have to publicly call them out for being stingy in front of the media.
…
Given the opportunity for a free stay, Fujino made the most of it and brought everyone along with him to the hotel.
His reason?
It wasn't for anything shady.
It was purely for his own safety—a protective buffer against any awkward situations.
After all, he was just a poor, weak, and helpless high school detective, and checking into a hotel with a wealthy young lady felt… risky.
Even if it was unlikely, he couldn't shake the thought of a certain terrifying heiress sneaking into his room in the dead of night…
Too scary. He'd better stay alert tonight.
…
The hotel was called **Ryukyu Onsen Senaga Hotel**, a five-star establishment—one of the more luxurious hotels in the area.
It was close to the airport, only a few minutes by car. No traffic, just a quick turn, and they arrived.
From the hotel, you could see departing planes and a full view of the airport.
Upon arrival, the hotel manager and a group of staff warmly welcomed them.
Check-in was handled quickly, and soon, they were shown to their high-end rooms, which had just been prepared.
By the time Fujino finished unpacking and took a bath, it was already 6 PM.
At 7 PM, after freshening up, everyone gathered at the restaurant next to the hotel.
"I want unagi donburi!" (grilled eel rice bowl)
As soon as they reached a long table in the restaurant, Genta excitedly called out to a waitress dressed in a sleek black hotel uniform.
"Genta! That's really rude!"
Mitsuhiko, sitting nearby, couldn't stand it anymore. "We're only able to stay here thanks to Fujino-nii, and it's Ōoka-neesan who's treating us!"
"Exactly."
Ayumi chimed in, "We should let Ooka-neechan order for us."
Fujino sat off to the side, watching the Detective Boys with a speechless expression. At least Ayumi and Mitsuhiko had some sense, but Genta? That guy was just a walking stomach.
He then handed the menu to Momiji Ooka, who was sitting beside him. "Mitsuhiko and Ayumi are right. Ladies first—go ahead, Miss Momiji."
"It's fine… anyone can order."
Momiji smiled and took the menu.
"The seafood sushi and a serving of Ishigaki beef—does that sound right, Miss?"
A waitress in a black hotel uniform held a notepad as she confirmed the order with Momiji, who had purposely seated herself next to Fujino.
"That's right."
Momiji nodded slightly, then turned to Fujino. "Fujino-kun, the Ishigaki beef here is really good. I had it last time when I came with my grandfather. Want to try a serving?"
"No, thanks. I prefer Chinese food."
Fujino politely declined and picked up the menu.
Ishigaki beef was a specialty of Okinawa, and a single serving could cost over 10,000 yen—larger portions were even pricier.
And don't even get started on the deluxe seafood sushi… that was straight-up ridiculous, costing tens of thousands.
Well, that's what you'd expect from a rich girl like Momiji.
Good thing she was the one treating them today. If it were his turn to pay, he'd be absolutely broke.
Fujino quickly scanned the menu. "I'll have the Dongpo pork, and a side of rice."
Dongpo pork was originally a Chinese dish, but given the historical connections between China and the Ryukyu Islands, Okinawa also had its own version. Whether it tasted the same, though… Fujino had no idea.
At least it wasn't too expensive—still within an acceptable range.
Even though Momiji was treating them, it wouldn't be right to order something too extravagant.
That was just basic manners.
"I'll have seafood rice!" Ayumi declared.
"I want eel rice!" Genta said excitedly, standing up.
"I'd like a sea grape rice bowl, please," Mitsuhiko said politely.
Meanwhile, Haibara Ai and Akemi Miyano both ordered braised pork.
After all the time spent eating with Fujino, their taste buds had been completely reprogrammed—they could hardly tolerate Japanese food anymore.
"I'll have tempura and soba noodles."
Conan passed the menu to Ran. "Ran-neechan, what do you want?"
Ran smiled at the waitress. "I'll take mandarin rice and stir-fried eggs with carrots."
Kogoro Mouri added, "I'll have soba noodles… and a beer."
"Beer?"
Ran's face darkened as she glared at her father. "Didn't the doctor say last time that you shouldn't be drinking anymore?"
"Uh… well…"
Uncle Mouri was visibly taken aback. "Come on, we're out to have fun—what's the big deal?"
Before he could finish, Ran smiled at the waiter and said, "Just get him a serving of soba noodles."
After ordering, the group added a few more snacks.
"Is there anything else you need?"
A waiter in a black uniform patiently asked the group seated around the table.
Fujino spoke up. "Wait a moment. One more person hasn't ordered yet."
"One more?"
Uncle Mouri looked surprised. "I thought we all ordered already... including those kids. That makes ten of us."
"But isn't there still someone over there?"
Fujino stood up and walked over to a man sitting alone at a nearby table. The man, dressed in a black casual outfit, had only a cup of coffee in front of him. Fujino smiled and asked, "Would you like to order something?"
"Hmm?"
Iori Mugo looked up in surprise, seeming a bit confused. "Do I know you?"
"Iori-san, that's your name, right?"
Fujino met his gaze calmly. "Your goal is to protect Miss Momiji, isn't it?"
At that moment, Momiji Ooka walked over with a cheerful smile. "Alright, Iori, no need to hide anymore. Fujino-kun has already figured you out."
"So I've been caught, huh?"
Iori sighed softly.
His disguise wasn't bad, yet he had still been discovered…
He didn't even know exactly when he'd been found out, which made him secretly admire how sharp Fujino was.
Standing up from his seat, Iori looked at Fujino with curiosity. "When did you notice me? And how do you even know my name?"
"It was simple. From the moment we boarded the plane, I noticed you following us. That's when I started paying attention to you. Then, during the commotion, your first instinct was to look at Miss Momiji, who was sitting next to me."
Fujino explained, "If my guess is correct, you must be her bodyguard or perhaps her butler. I remember seeing you once before in Osaka. And from your behavior, I deduced that you're the one she often gives orders to over the phone—someone named Iori."
"As expected of someone worthy of Miss Momiji's trust."
Silently, Iori took off his hat and bowed slightly. "Your deduction is correct. I am Miss Momiji's butler, Iori Mugo. I followed along this time to ensure her safety."
"I didn't expect my poor acting to be seen through so quickly… and yet, you didn't expose me on the spot. I'm honestly embarrassed."
At the same time, most of his doubts had been cleared up.
No wonder Fujino had rushed off to stop that woman earlier instead of worrying about Miss Momiji's safety.
So he had already noticed Iori's presence from the start?
---
After dinner, the group headed to the hotel's hot springs.
The facilities were decent—tastefully decorated, with clear water rather than some murky old bath.
By the way, it was a gender-separated bath. No mixed bathing.
As for Conan, Fujino made sure to dunk him straight into the Okinawan-style hot spring. 😆
After soaking in the hot spring, everyone stepped out.
Fujino had a vague feeling that something was off.
It wasn't obvious—most people, even those with sharp senses, wouldn't have noticed. But the way the girls kept sneaking glances at Ooka Momiji's chest… yeah, they were definitely startled.
After the bath, everyone returned to their rooms.
Fujino, meanwhile, had his first-ever interview with a reporter—and charged a fee of 200,000 yen for it.
Why charge a fee?
Well, he was a busy man. There were just too many people wanting to interview him, and he couldn't possibly handle them all.
So, he figured he'd limit himself to a couple of exclusive one-on-one interviews. And at 200,000 yen per person? Seemed fair enough.
After all, Fujino prided himself on being an honest businessman—first come, first served.
A **truly** exclusive interview, guaranteed.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Fujino. That concludes today's interview."
Once they wrapped up, the reporter politely packed up his notes and equipment before heading off, ready to pull an all-nighter to finish the article.
"Safe travels!"
Fujino waved them off with a warm, friendly smile.
The journalist in the car couldn't help but feel a little emotional.
As someone in the news industry, he was used to getting the door slammed in his face by interviewees.
But here was a famous detective—**and** a rising hero—who not only agreed to an interview but actually seemed eager about it.
That… was touching.
It even made the upcoming sleepless night feel a little less painful.
What the journalist didn't realize, though, was that the moment he left, Fujino pulled out his phone and called another reporter.
Within minutes, he had lined up two more interviews.
Did he promise them both an **exclusive**?
Absolutely.
Were they *technically* exclusive?
Sure—each interview was done separately.
As for whether the reporters leaked anything? That wasn't his problem.
All Fujino did was guide them toward the same conclusions.
If their stories ended up sounding *too* similar, well… not his fault.
If anyone got suspicious, he'd just shrug and blame a mole inside their newsroom.
And hey, maybe they'd actually uncover one.
After all, leaks in the news industry weren't exactly unheard of.
Of course, this little trick only worked in a small place like Ryukyu.
Back in Tokyo? No chance.
The reporters there were practically detectives themselves, veterans of covering high-profile murder cases. Those seasoned media pros? Yeah, no way he could pull one over on them.
(End of Chapter)