Detective Conan: I'm a Boy, But They Treat Me Like a Big Sister — Chapter 79

Chapter 79: Conan-verse Timeline

When Tōhō Getsukai woke up, the morning air carried an immediate sense of wrongness.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, reached for the phone on his bedside table, and stared at the glowing lock screen. The date had vaulted forward by several weeks compared to yesterday.

‘…Again?’

Wasn’t yesterday just a mundane Monday? And today was suddenly the Sobu High School festival?

He sighed, tossing the phone back down. Whatever. It was the Conan-verse timeline; chronological logic had died a long time ago, and he was thoroughly used to it by now.

Throwing off the quilt, he stepped barefoot onto the cold floor and crossed the room to his desk. The computer monitor was still glowing, displaying an open text document.

Rashomon.

He had started drafting the classic last night after returning from the senior’s dorm. The framework and core thematic paragraphs were already locked in, leaving only the final few thousand words to grind out.

Getsukai pulled out his chair, settled in, and let his fingers fly across the keyboard. The rhythmic clacking filled the quiet room as he smoothly picked up the narrative thread he had left hanging yesterday.

Twenty minutes later, he struck the final period.

He scrolled back to the top, gave the manuscript a quick read-through, found the pacing and tone satisfactory, and closed the document. There was no immediate rush to submit it. He would leave Kobunsha waiting for now and deal with the publishing side after surviving the school festival.

After a quick wash in the bathroom, Getsukai pulled open his wardrobe.

There was no need to wear the standard uniform today. It was a festival day, after all. Even though his memory insisted the event was supposed to be scheduled for next week, the universe’s current timeline dictated it was happening right now.

His hand brushed past the familiar Sobu High School blazers, reaching deep into the back to pull out a specific set.

A white square-neck top with delicate puff sleeves, tailored sharply at the waist, featuring a ring of complex lace at the cuffs. He paired it with a light gray pleated skirt, pristine white knee-high socks, and matching white shoes.

After changing, he paused in front of the full-length mirror.

He left his silver hair free of clips today, letting the strands cascade naturally over his shoulders, the ends curling slightly inward. The wide square neckline dipped just enough to frame his collarbones, while the puff sleeves softened his shoulder line into something delicate and rounded. With a slight shift of his weight, the pleated hem of the skirt flared and swayed.

The overall aesthetic was pure, unadulterated girlishness. It was completely off the charts.

“Hmm, this works.”

School festival limited edition skin, unlocked.

Getsukai closed the wardrobe doors with deep satisfaction and headed out.

Standing beneath the towering entrance arch of Sobu High School, Getsukai took in the chaos.

Because the festival fell on a weekend, the foot traffic bleeding through the gates was easily triple the usual weekday crowd. Colorful pennant flags fluttered overhead, massive inflatable arches framed the walkways, and students sweating inside oversized mascot costumes aggressively handed out flyers to anyone who made eye contact.

A massive banner reading The 32nd Sobu High School Festival hung proudly, framed by clusters of helium balloons. Stalls from various classes lined the perimeter of the athletic field. The heavy, savory smoke of grilled takoyaki drifted through the air, clashing with the spun-sugar sweetness of nearby cotton candy machines.

Just as the calendar claimed, the festival was in full swing.

Whatever.

He stepped past the main archway. Almost instantly, a coordinated pack of girls broke away from the main crowd and swarmed him from the left.

“Classmate Dongfang! Today’s skirt is just amazing! The square neck! The puff sleeves!”

“Classmate Dongfang, please come be the shop mascot at our stall! We’ll pay you in unlimited candy for the rest of the year!”

“Classmate Dongfang! The drama club desperately needs a Princess with your exact brand of androgynous beauty!”

A girl from the neighboring class shuffled forward, her fingers nervously twisting her skirt. “Yuekui-san… we would be so honored if you… if you’d be our mascot…”

Getsukai tilted his head, offering a soft, flawless smile. His goal today was absolutely not to become a localized tourist attraction for the female student body.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and perfectly pitched. “You all look incredibly cute today too. But I’ll have to pass.”

A collective, high-pitched squeal rippled through the group. One polite sentence, and the entire crowd practically melted into the pavement.

Leaving them swooning, he continued his stroll down the main thoroughfare, passing a gauntlet of maid cafes, dimly lit fortune-telling tents, noisy shooting galleries, and the black-curtained entrances of haunted houses. Every time he passed a stall, someone tried to recruit him. Every time he was stopped, he deployed the same gentle, impenetrable refusal.

Just as he was scanning the field, wondering if his own class had any low-effort tasks he could quietly blend into, a flash of gold caught his peripheral vision.

To his front right, near the edge of the playground, a familiar pair of golden twin-tails was bowed over the counter of a makeshift drink stall.

It was Eriri.

Getsukai closed the distance, the situation quickly coming into sharp focus.

Eriri stood frozen behind the counter, the entire front of her uniform completely drenched. A massive, sticky stain of spilled juice painted her top, the soaked fabric clinging mercilessly to her skin. The two female classmates flanking her were in full panic mode, frantically shoving wads of dry tissues into her hands.

Eriri snatched the tissues, pressing them desperately against her chest. She looked down at the sheer, clinging mess, and her face instantly ignited into a violent, burning red.

“D-don’t look!”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, shrinking back against the rear of the tent. Her azure blue eyes were already glistening with humiliated tears.

‘The little blonde really has terrible luck,’ Getsukai noted dryly in his head.

Despite his internal amusement, he stepped smoothly behind the counter, invading the staff-only area.

Without a word, he grabbed the lace cuffs of his puff sleeves and pulled the top over his head. His silver hair scattered wildly in the air for a second before settling down, revealing the thin-strap white camisole he wore underneath. The sudden removal left his pale shoulders, collarbones, and slender arms entirely exposed to the autumn air.

He shook out the puff-sleeve top, stepped up behind Eriri, and draped it over her trembling shoulders, pulling the two front edges together to cover her ruined uniform.

“Hold it. Don’t let go.”

Hearing his voice, Eriri flinched, then immediately let out a shaky breath of relief.

The fabric draped over her carried his residual body heat and a faint, impossibly clean fragrance. The thick material of the puff sleeves completely shielded her embarrassment from the crowd.

“St—Classmate Dongfang…”

“Don’t move.”

Before they could step away, a familiar white lab coat fluttered at the edge of the stall.

Shizuka Hiratsuka strolled over, hands buried deep in her pockets, conducting her routine perimeter inspection. Taking in the bizarre scene behind the counter, she closed the distance with long, lazy strides.

“Teacher Hiratsuka.”

“Hmm? Dongfang? You’re dressed quite…” Hiratsuka’s dark eyes dragged over his thin-strap camisole and bare arms. “…quite cool today.”

Recalling the last time Getsukai had effortlessly confiscated her alcohol outside of school, the older teacher let out a shameless, teasing laugh.

“…Teacher, Student Eriri spilled a drink at the stall, and her clothes are soaked through. To prevent her from catching a cold, I am taking her home to change.”

Getsukai delivered the explanation with a perfectly placid expression, but his eyes locked onto Hiratsuka’s with a silent, heavy warning. A sudden, inexplicable chill ran down the teacher’s spine.

Hiratsuka cleared her throat, quickly averting her gaze.

The blonde girl beside him was huddled inside the oversized white jacket, her shoulders hunched up to her ears, looking thoroughly miserable.

“Right… go ahead. Sorry for the trouble, Dongfang.” Hiratsuka waved a hand dismissively. “And find a jacket for yourself, kid. Don’t catch a cold on my watch.”

“Thank you, Teacher.”

He turned back to Eriri. The little blonde was gripping the front of his jacket with white knuckles, her head bowed so low her twin-tails curtained half her face.

“Let’s go.”

“Wh-where?”

“Taking you home to change clothes.”

Eriri’s head snapped up, the blush on her cheeks spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “I-I can go back by myself!”

“Fine. Go back by yourself.” Getsukai pivoted on his heel, taking a step toward the exit.

Eriri froze.

Seeing that he was genuinely about to abandon her to walk through the crowded festival looking like a drenched rat, panic overrode her pride. She lunged forward, her fingers clamping desperately onto his bare arm.

“No, no, no! The kindest, most wonderful Classmate Dongfang at Sobu High School, please take me home!”

Getsukai paused. He reached out, lightly patted the top of her golden head, and let out a soft hum.

“Let’s go.”

Keeping her gaze glued to the dirt, Eriri shuffled after him with quick, tiny steps.

The two of them handled through the dense festival crowds, making a beeline for the main gates. In their wake, the girls who had witnessed Getsukai casually strip off his outer layer were already vibrating with intense, hushed gossip.

“Classmate Dongfang’s shoulders… that collarbone… those thin straps! Is that even human?!”

“Honestly… I kind of want someone to splash juice on me right now!”

“Wait, so Classmate Dongfang is actually a boy, right? But looking at that waist… I don’t even care anymore!”

Getsukai tuned out the whispers with practiced ease.

As they cleared the school gates, the biting November wind whipped against his exposed skin. The camisole offered zero protection, and a sharp chill bit into his arms.

Hamon Breathing activated automatically. A steady, rhythmic pulse of heat surged upward from his dantian, flooding his veins and instantly suppressing the cold.

Beside him, Eriri remained tightly cocooned in his jacket. She hadn’t spoken a word since they left the campus, but as the silence stretched, she finally peeked up at him.

“Classmate Dongfang.”

“Are you cold?”

“I’m not cold.”

“Liar,” she muttered, her eyes dropping to his bare arms. “Wearing a camisole in November… do you think you’re a polar bear or something?”

She gave a muffled, awkward hum, pulling his jacket even tighter around her frame.

“Just now… thank you.”

Getsukai tilted his head, a teasing, gentle smile touching his lips. “Hmm? I didn’t quite catch that. Care to say it again?”

“I said thank you! Did you hear it that time?!” she snapped, her face flushing red again.

“Alright, alright. You’re welcome.”

Eriri’s house wasn’t far from the school. After a brief train ride, they walked a short distance through a quiet residential neighborhood before stopping in front of a large, elegant detached house.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she fished her keys out of her pocket.

She turned around to face him. Her azure eyes darted nervously to the left, to the right, briefly snagged on the thin strap of his camisole, and then violently snapped back to the pavement.

“Um…” She squeezed the keys in her hand. “Do you want to… come in and sit for a while?”