Disclaimer:Obviously do not own Case Closed / Detective Conan. If I did, Shinichi's secret would be revealed to all! Bwuhaha! And Black Organization would adopt him as their own, and teach him the ways of evil:D And Gin(Yes, I love Gin. Hes so wickedly insane) would regard him as a brother, and let chibi-Conan comb his long, glossy blond hair for hours on end in front of the vanity mirror with a seashell comb... (sighs) But alas, one can only dream, ne?

Pieces to the Jigsaw Puzzle

Prologue

Where are you...?

The man shifted slightly in the smooth leather seat of the black Porsche with tinted windows, a movement of calm impatience that didn't suit the bestial hunger burning within him. Tapping idly on the end of a cigarette, he rolled the tinted-windows down to shower the ashes on the sidewalk from his parked position next to the still school, as he thumbed through the thick clasp of documents. His eyes raked over the papers almost hungrily, almost indecently. As if something that man wanted very much was stored in those thin sheets, a prize beyond all others... Cruel, cold eyes, polished with sadism to give it a harsh, empty light to reflect the monster trapped in man's flesh buried within him. Those beast's eyes scanned a list of names, of information none of which particularly struck him. No hint of discouragment wrought his sharp features. On the contrary, he seemed to grow more eager for something as he flipped through the papers. No one, nothing would stop his mission. He had a job to do, he would do it, he would find him. Once he'd failed. Twice, maybe more times, this boy evaded his grip and taunted him by his freedom. A freedom that said he hadn't done his job. A job supposed to happen in the amusement park's shadowed twilight grounds, when the man had unknowingly given him life. How ironic. He'd aimed to kill the boy with the very same pills that gave him this narrow, unpremeditated escape. In a way, it was his fault the boy still lived.

A disturbing thought. Actually helping an enemy. The man almost shuddered, as if to repell a bothersome fly. His fingers tapped absently on the thin white cigarette still heated reddish at the end, sending a sprinkle of ashes onto the sidewalk curb. He smiled strangely and his eyes zeroed onto the school building. It was night now. The target, whoever he masqueraded as, was no longer there and wouldn't be until morning. Still... He felt a strange connection between these grounds. The same earth his target walked on with his cowardly feet everyday, for the boy was too afraid to confront them openly, he was sure. Somewhere in the stampede of prints pressed into the soft yet firm earth his partner had trodged off to to find more records, certain, undistinguishable tracks were different from the others. Tracks of a late teenager encased in an adolescent's body. A lie. He was fake, from his appearence to his words, to his breaths to everything about him. The man knew this about him. He'd studied the boy's former life, as brilliant detective Kudou Shinichi. Learned about him. Obsessed over him, the others might say, for he'd never let a victim live before, even if it was unintentional. Well, he would have to right that once he found this Kudou, correct? First some interrogation as to the traitor Sherry

(Shiho's)

whereabouts. Some fun with the one who lived, push him into a nightmaric hell with no return, only death, punishing him until death seemed truly a blessing in comparison. Perhaps he'd grant it, maybe he wouldn't; Depended on his mood, whether he wanted a screaming human to toy with the next day or not. Hm. A small smile, more predatory than joyful, twitched at the corners of his thin lips. Making Kudou suffer did sound fun. It depended whether or not the Boss would allow him to have his fun or if he wanted the effects of the drug studied. If not, the man knew, with a flicker of pleasure, custody of the boy would be surrended to him.

And if he didn't break under interrogation for Sherry, the man would up the torture a little. Until the "detective", whatever face he now wore(the man cursed himself for not being able to remember the boy's face, it would make this so much easier) told him everything just to end the pain. And maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. Red was his favorite color; He found it charming bathing any body he encountered. He was eager to see the color of red on this Kodou child.

Gin of the Black Organization allowed a casual, cruel smile, still tapping his cigarette patiently as he waited, thumbing the records with growing anticipation for the encounter sure to come. Faces blurred, names smeared before his eyes, rearranging themselves in the kanji for his name, the face of Kodou. The boy smirked at him, a sneer, mocking Gin's obsession.

"Tch. The worst they have is you? You couldn't even kill me the first time, and I was uncounscious."

Fingers tightened over the slim cigarette until it crumpled neatly in his grip, leaking hot ash on his digits. Gin stared idly at his fingers. The boy's imagined words, whispered in a hatefully smug voice, rang in his ears. He tossed the crumpled cigarette on the sidewalk and reached for a new packet, jabbing a new white thinness between his tight lips, thumb pressing harder than need be on the lighter switch until a small flame swirled to life. Gin touched it to the end of his cigarette, feeling the familiar choke of thick smoke cloud his throat, until he calmly released it in a whoosh of air. Sprials of blue-grey smoke faded into the sky. Gin watched.

Detective... I will find you, he promised the nonresponding smoke circles, lazy in the air. The thought was filled with nothing but sadistic malice, and deadly earnest. I swear I'll find you, just to hear your screams...

As Vodka climbed in beside him, Gin's hands wrapped around the steering wheel, foot gently ushering his beloved Porsche forward. It ran smoothly, stealthily along the gravel road. Ready for the hunt as it's master. A rare spark lit Gin's eyes, a mad glint of challenge. Vodka quietly shuffled the stolen papers. A strange name with clippings of pictures and thin information popped at him. He scanned it, nodded once. "Aniki." Gin looked at his partener. A portfolio with kanjis emblazoned on it was promptly offered to him. He studied it appraisingly.

"Edogawa, Conan"

"Lives with Mori family, parent status overseas"

First two lines of information, nothing extraordinary except the odd name. What made Gin study it so intently was the picture. A seven-year-old boy gave him a nervous, white-toothed smile, black hair spilling over his thick-rimmed glasses, which hid deep blue eyes. Something jolted his stomach. Deja vu. He knew this face. The smile broadened. Vodka's own grew, stretching his lips in a curved grin of malice.

Without a word or sign, they drove off. Overhead, the moon glowered, the stars twinkled in splotchy midnight sky.

Short yes, but that was only to show Gin's(my favorite's :P) thoughts and what hes doing. Crazy little jackass. I still love him. So cool. Like Krad and Itachi, melded in one! (coughs) Anyway, the next will be alot longer, in Conan's POV and nothing very interesting!... Oops.

Well, didja like it? Hate it? Want me to continue? How was it good / bad? What would you do for a Klondike bar? Why am I asking you these questions?

Review me friends. :D