27 - Okino Yoko's Request! Bring the Idol Actress Home!

Here's the translated and polished version of your fanfiction chapter in English. I've changed the protagonist's name to Azuma Shoyo, used the original character names (e.g., Yoko Okino instead of "Chongye Yangzi"), corrected grammatical and spelling errors, and improved clarity and flow for better readability. The setting blends a crossover of anime worlds, primarily Detective Conan, with the tone staying casual, skeptical, and unexpectedly bold.

Chapter Translation

"Boss, check please!"

Azuma Shoyo finished eating and glanced at his watch—9:00 PM. Time to head home, shower, and sleep.

His routine was clockwork: bed by 10:00 PM, up at 6:00 AM sharp.

Sure, he didn't need sleep anymore, but he wanted to wrap up the Man of Steel world's main achievement soon and check out the next DC universe.

Next to him, Yoko Okino's hand trembled slightly as she heard him call for the bill.

"That'll be 3,500 yen!"

Sakaki shuffled over, eyeballing Azuma's order before ringing it up.

3,500 yen—not bad. The food was top-notch, better than most places he'd tried. Worth it.

After paying, Azuma grabbed his stuff and left.

Nice spot, this izakaya. A bit far from home, but once he got that motorcycle he'd been eyeing, the ride wouldn't be an issue.

He'd come back.

The vibe was great—listening to those old guys brag and bitch about life was oddly fun.

Stepping out, he was about to head home when the izakaya door swung open again. Yoko Okino bolted after him.

"Hey, wait up!" she called.

"Something up, Miss Yoko?" Azuma turned, eyeing her.

Catching her breath, Yoko steadied herself before looking at him. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"What kind?" Azuma asked.

They barely knew each other. Her chasing him down with a random request piqued his curiosity—what was she after?

"You know someone just died in my place," she said, a little sheepish. "I'm kinda freaked out about going back there alone. And a hotel by myself? That scares me too."

Azuma nodded. Okay, and?

"So… could I crash at your place for a few days?"

She tilted her head up, big eyes sparkling, hands clasped tightly in a pleading gesture.

???

When I throw out a question mark, it's not me who's confused—it's you!

Was Yoko Okino's brain on the fritz?

Asking to stay at a stranger's—well, okay, a teenage guy's—house out of nowhere?

Do I just look that trustworthy or what?

"You sure about this, Miss Yoko?" Azuma asked, skeptical.

"Please, help me out! I'm begging you!"

She grabbed his arm, pouting like a kid begging for candy.

Now Azuma was the confused one.

But—why turn down a freebie? Plus, he was curious about her angle. So, without overthinking it, he shrugged and agreed.

"Alright, come with me then," he said.

"Thank you!" Yoko beamed.

"I drove here, but I've been drinking, so I can't drive. Can you?" she asked, dangling a car key from her bag.

"Hand it over," Azuma said, taking it.

Her car—a white Mercedes sports model—was parked across the street.

He slid in, adjusted to the right-hand steering, and fired it up.

"Let's roll!"

Yoko, in the passenger seat, pumped her fist with a shout.

Azuma: "…"

"Buckle up," he said, then eased the car toward the intersection.

…

Fifteen minutes later…

They pulled up to Azuma's place.

He parked in the garage—empty for two years now—and got out, waving Yoko over as she gawked at the house.

"Come on in. I'll grab you some slippers," he said, unlocking the door.

"Your place is huge!" Yoko marveled. "You live alone?"

"Yeah, just me. So if you're having second thoughts, now's your chance," Azuma said, handing her a fresh pair of slippers.

Yoko acted like she hadn't heard, slipping them on and darting to the living room.

"Wow! This living room's massive!"

She spun around, then flopped onto the sofa. "This couch is nice too."

Azuma watched her play dumb and decided not to push it.

If she was set on staying, why fuss?

Free food on your doorstep—you don't say no.

"Want a drink?" he asked.

"No thanks, I'm beat. Where am I sleeping tonight?" Yoko stood up.

"Follow me—I'll show you the room," Azuma said, leading her upstairs. He opened a door and flicked on the light.

"Here. This was my parents' old room. Bedding's in the closet—check it out," he said, pointing.

"Bathroom's down the hall there, or there's one downstairs too," he added, making sure she knew the layout before leaving her to it.

"Where's your room?" Yoko asked suddenly.

"Next door," he said, pointing.

"Got it… Good night, then?" she said, nodding with some hidden intent.

"Night," Azuma replied, walking off.

After being at a crime scene, he felt like a shower.

Sure, his bio-force field kept him spotless, but mentally? It bugged him. A rinse was more for peace of mind.

Post-shower, he slipped into pajamas and headed to his room.

He flipped on the light—and a small head popped out from under his covers, big eyes blinking at him.

"Not coming over?"

Yoko's flushed face peeked out, her voice teasing.

--- Translator Note ---

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