-Chapter 1-
Herd To The Flock
He heard the body drop before he saw it. One brief look and he was already turning around with a sharp twist of his heel.
Fool. The murderer was looking at his cellphone while he was disposing of a severed head. The bag was wide open.
Amateur, or just plain stupid?
"Nope," he shook his head in denial. He was not dealing with this today.
"Hibiki? What on Earth do you think you're doing?"
Oh, no… Well, damn it. He knew that voice.
With deliberate slowness, Hibiki craned his neck sideways to give her his best, obviously not fake, nonchalant expression.
He could spot the murderer twitching from the corner of his eye at the unexpected appearance.
Damn this all to hell.
"Wakana! Hey!" he called to her loudly. Since there was going to be a confrontation anyway, then why bother holding back, right?
The object of his frustrations was no other than his childhood friend. Yamazaki Wakana had a pair of startlingly green eyes hidden behind the thick frame of her black glasses and the most fearsome fists of fury Hibiki had ever had the misfortune to taste first-handedly on his body. True to her neat-freak nature, his childhood friend's hair was tied up in a high ponytail and dressed in their school uniform, the very epitome of a normal-looking female teenager. And she was currently fixing him with a purely Wakana-patented death stare.
No one could accuse Yamazaki Wakana of being feminine, no sir.
Ugh, this girl…
"You're going in the opposite direction to school," she drawled disapprovingly. Her face said that she was, at best, unimpressed by his behavior.
"No, I am not," he laughed obnoxiously, forefinger scratching his left cheek almost sheepishly.
Hibiki recovered quickly, though, remembering the original problem as soon as he spotted a shadowy figure moving towards them. With a fake grin, he grabbed her by her hand and started pulling her along in a brisk walk.
"In fact—! Hey, now that you mention it, we'd better get going! It's getting late and Shiyobashi-sensei will kick our asses if we show up late again."
The girl screeched in surprise, "Hibiki! There's no need for this! I can walk, you know!?"
Wakana could grump and whine all she wanted, but Hibiki was content with the fact she went along with his manhandling without too much fuss. Which, he reflected with relief, was just as well. He kind of didn't have the time to have her being difficult, not when they were being followed. Hibiki was already searching for possible escape routes, keeping in mind to stay with the crowd at all times.
And the opportunity came without much fanfare. They rounded a corner.
As soon as he saw the chance, Hibiki shoved them both into a nearby alley and made Wakana crouch behind a dumpster next to him, hands covering her mouth just in case. In that uncomfortable position, he waited for their tail to walk by. And sure enough, not even half a minute had passed and the man was already within sight.
Holding his breath, Hibiki allowed himself a moment to properly examine the criminal.
Sawada looked piteously weak. There was not enough muscle in his arms and legs to be a remarkable threat in a fair fight with a skilled combatant, even though he couldn't be older than thirty. Going by that information alone, Hibiki could try to overpower him fairly quickly if there came the time to throw punches. Furthermore, the movement of his limbs looked awkward enough to allow an edge over him… And a well-timed push would probably trip him if he was ever close enough to try to fight back. If it ever got to that, though, Hibiki was confident in his chances to take him down. At least he had some physical training to fall back in this kind of situation.
Worst came to worst, Wakana had a mean hook to her as well. It wouldn't be smart of him to dismiss her right off the bat.
Wary, tense and generally ready for something bad to happen, Hibiki waited impatiently to see if their pursuer would wise up and see them, but the man continued walking past them, so he graciously removed his hand from Wakana's mouth before she got into her mind to lick him—or worse, bite off his fingers.
Her fury was something to behold, terrifying and swift.
"Hi-boke-me!" Wakana took him by the ear and hissed dangerously into the small appendage. Hibiki winced at the force behind the yank. His childhood friend had reached the end of her rope and was done playing around. "You may want to start explaining now, or so help me! I'll turn you into a bloody pulp!"
Hibiki swallowed and visibly pulled himself together. Calmly, he met her eye dead seriously.
"Call the police," he told her.
Wakana's eyes narrowed in confusion and then widened in shock and fear. She released his ear.
"W-why?" she asked.
"Because someone is trying to hide a body in Niigata Station," Hibiki said. There was no mistaking the dark look in his eyes.
As Wakana fumbled with her phone, he told her what he saw: a severed head being dropped into a trash can and a man carrying a large sports bag, which was full to the point of bursting with limbs. The man was scruffy, he explained. The murderer hadn't bothered to change—just kind of draped a long coat over his bloody clothes. Probably because he was used to people overlooking him or outright ignoring him. It made sense because people usually avoided coming into contact with shabby characters on the streets. Some even actively avoided them. To hide his identity, Sawada was only wearing a baseball cap to hide his face. Perhaps a bit naively, the murderer didn't think people would care enough to look for a face and now that flaw in logic had cost him dearly. He had a tattoo in his left hand.
"Oh, on a side note," Hibiki mumbled quickly, almost stumbling with the words, "the guy might have seen me while he was trying to dispose of the body."
"Hibiki!" Wakana was pale, much too pale.
"I said he might have! I'm not a hundred percent sure!"
"Still, you are an idiot! You don't let people see you in that kind of situation!"
"Like you would have been any smarter," Hibiki droned automatically. In warning, Wakana raised her fists. Hibiki had seen her do that too many times to risk it. He tried to placate her by throwing up his arms in the universal sign of surrender. "We lost him, though!" he hurried to say.
"Who's to say that he won't look for you, though?" Wakana whispered to him furiously. "You saw his face, didn't you!? If I were him and saw you looking at me right at that moment, I wouldn't let you go!"
Me neither, he thought grimly. His senses were going haywire, hair standing up on the back of his neck. The man was still too close for comfort.
"Call them," he hushed her.
That earned him another death glare. She, however, relented after he pled with her with his eyes.
"Hello?" Wakana spoke quietly into the phone. "This is Yamazaki Wakana speaking. I'd like to report a murder in Niigata Station. Yeah, a man. Late twenties, maybe?" Her face darkened. She looked at Hibiki, struggling with the words. "We… uh, we don't know for sure. He has a cap covering his face," she explained.
Wakana winced, "Yes, he's with me." She covered the speaker and shot him a dry look. She offered him the device with a shaking hand. "Inspector Hagure is asking for you. Honestly…" Wakana groused in disgust.
Hibiki took the phone with a grimace.
"Hello?"
"Kuno Hibiki?"
The teenager sighed, "Yeah, that's me."
"I should put you in house arrest out of principle," the police officer grumbled, "There's no situation revolving a murder scene that doesn't include you. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were the one orchestrating the whole thing. Tell me, are you secretly a death god plotting against humanity?"
"Hardy har har," Hibiki mock laughed. Outwardly, his face was distinctly unimpressed by the Hagure's latest attempt at black humor. "Very funny, inspector."
"Seriously, though… A murder in Niigata Station? What kind of person is stupid enough to try to hide the body there—right in the middle of the day?"
"Not a murder, inspector, just a body disposal," Hibiki corrected him quietly. It still amazed him that no one but him had detected the criminal trying to be sneaky, despite the rush hour. It had to be Anime Logic acting up at its worse. "The crime scene is elsewhere. We've still gotta find that."
Hagure made a low sound from the back of his throat.
"Still…"
"Look, inspector. Someone is gunning for me right now," Hibiki said grimly.
Wakana, to his right, was doing her best impression of being a lifelike statue. Hibiki tried to smile reassuringly at her, but apparently he was not doing the reassuring part properly. The smile quickly withered into a small grimace.
Inspector Hagure sighed through the speaker.
"I see… Why I am not surprised? Don't move. I'll have several units scouting the area in ten minutes. Oh, and, Kuno-kun…?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't want a repetition of what happened at Wakuwaku Winter Festival," the inspector said tightly.
"Hey!" Hibiki groaned quietly, "I'll have you know, it wasn't my fault! That crazed woman startled me while I was eating!"
"We had to remove chopsticks from her hands—your chopsticks, to be exact! The woman had her hands pinned to a tree! Do I need to explain myself in detail?"
Hibiki rolled his eyes.
"Not my fault," he insisted. "And she was the bad guy, so it really doesn't count."
"Sure," Inspector Hagure conceded—or rather was not in the mood to argue. "I'll be around in fifteen minutes. Do yourself a favor and lie low. Follow the sirens once you hear them."
"Right-o, Inspector!" Hibiki did an impression of a cheer and the inspector was back to his grumbling as he shut the phone closed. "Here," he handed the phone back to its owner.
Wakana was rubbing—no, digging into her temples with her fingers when she took it back. Her visage mostly reflected how resigned she felt with the situation.
"Corpse Magnet… I swear when this dies down, I'll kill you with my bare hands," his childhood friend declared with no real heat in her voice.
"You always say the nicest things to me, love," Hibiki simpered cheekily and winked at her.
Her flustered response was lost to him as he peeked around their little hideout.
Luckily enough, no one saw him doing it. Then again, that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the near vicinities.
Hibiki practically threw himself back against the wall when he saw the criminal loitering right outside their alley. Amongst the momentous panic, his mind managed to stutter out an approximation of the distance between them, the information leaving him feeling cold when he realized it wasn't much. His heart flipped uneasily inside his ribcage as he heard steps coming into the alley.
Damn it! Of all times to run out of luck…!
Uneasily, Wakana swore under her breath, "Don't tell me—"
"Don't!" he mouthed at her.
The girl's mouth closed with an audible click. Something must have caught the killer's attention because they could hear the man creeping closer, cautiously, almost shuffling his feet on the concrete.
Give me a break! Hibiki thought, paling. His hand went down a notch to his pockets, where he kept some of his knives hidden.
The man kicked something metallic nearby, the sound echoing to the place they were.
"Oh, God," Wakana moaned pitifully and hid her face with her hands.
Hibiki closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Panic was unbecoming of him.
He thought of his mother and the way she had brought him up. For someone who claimed to be retired from her line of work, at least she had her priorities straight when it came to him. His mother had been the one to teach him all she knew about weaponry, self-defense and survival. How to turn the tables on the one preying on you, how to use knives without cutting himself, how to attack effectively with them... Everything there was to know came from her.
Kuno Sumi had raised him to be a formidable assassin. He had no right to lose his cool over an inexperienced amateur playing with a shiny new toy.
New mindset setting in quickly, Hibiki could feel the way his training was kicking in. His heart rate was already steadier and his limbs relaxed for optimal movement. His grip on reality was sounder than it was before.
When he opened his eyes, there was no hesitation.
"Stay here," he ordered Wakana stiffly.
The teenager stood up and brought his hands deep into his pockets. There, he grabbed the grips of his knives and clutched them tightly with his fists. Hibiki began to walk away from his wide-eyed friend before she had the chance to regain her senses and make a grab for him.
The man with the guise of sheep began to turn in their direction. But he was no such thing. With his sharpened senses, Hibiki caught the glint of a firearm tucked on the side of the murderer's denims. Splatters of what could have seemed like dark paint were suddenly clear crimson clotting on black cloth.
Hibiki's nose twitched. This man reeked of blood. He was cocky to have not disposed of the evidence already. And to walk around in that shirt, despite the dark coloring…
Hibiki took note of that. Of the unconscious arrogance. Even if Sawada was nervous because he was seen, it could potentially be his adversary's downfall if he failed to subdue him quickly. One wrong move and this could end up poorly for them, if only because he was armed. But like hell he was letting Wakana get hurt by this guy.
Expertly, and with the ease of someone who was experienced, he took out his switchblades, snapped them straight with a flick of his thumbs and took off.
The world stood at a standstill—or not quite that, just moving very slowly. Hibiki was suddenly aware of every single living thing in the area—mind cataloging foes, allies and neutral parties in a matter of milliseconds—as far as his radius was concerned. One leap of his feet was four strides by normal standards. The gap between Hibiki and the man who wanted to hurt them was suddenly very short to the teenager, who only had to duck under the swipe of the attack the other tried to land on him as he lashed out instinctively before making his move.
Blades glinting and with cool precision, Hibiki made to stab his opponent in the middle, anticipating the way the man moved to protect his stomach in order to take a jab at his throat instead with his other hand.
The both froze in that position.
The tip of his switchblades jeered mockingly at his opponent. They were this close to pierce the flesh of his neck and the man knew it if the doe-like look he was sporting was of any indication. Sawada's swallowed uneasily against the cool metal.
"Bu-but you were—!" the murderer stammered.
Hibiki's teeth glinted savagely in the dim light.
"Does it matter? You're dead."
Not giving him the chance to retaliate, the teenager used his other blade to cut through the fabric of the man's jeans and belt. Two things happened in tandem: Sawada squeaked in fear and the jeans dropped to the ground as soon as there was nothing to support their weight. Without support, the gun and the cellphone the murderer had been using before clattered in the otherwise silent alley.
More importantly, Sawada was now without a means to contact anyone who would help him and he was without a weapon to defend himself against him. Their attacker was now sweating heavily, the cooling breeze of the morning prompting his lower extremities to break into goose bumps. His crotch, thankfully, was still fully clothed.
Hibiki's expression eased into a smile, one that was practically overflowing with venomous sugar. With Sawada's eyes focused on him alone, he'd missed how Hibiki had kicked the gun away from the two of them as a precautionary measure.
"Cocky," Hibiki tutted quietly. "Too cocky, in fact. Your chances of getting away with this murder have been reduced to absolute cero because of your arrogance."
Sawada attempted to move, but stopped immediately at the faint prick of the blades digging into his neck. They drew blood with laughingly ease.
"What were you trying to accomplish, I wonder?" Hibiki mused quietly. He could see the man's jugular vein dancing with fear. "Chase after the teenager and shoot him as well? What would happen after that? You'd have two bodies to dispose of, then. Three, if you added the girl that was with the boy. And where would that leave you?" he asked rhetorically. "How would you dispose of the evidence in that kind of situation? You don't have the body build to carry two bodies. Plus, you never did get rid of your first victim. Careless. Impulsive. You brought the evidence with you."
More whimpers. Half-assed attempts at getting away from him. Sawada's eyes swirled in the direction of the bloody sports bag, as if he could just will it away from there. Without that gun, he was harmless.
The teenager observed everything, boring into panicked eyes.
"You seem to prefer firearms," Hibiki started leadingly. "I am sure that once we examine that bag we'll know for sure. My best bet is that you surprised your victim by shooting them from behind—"
The man gave a big start, eyes wide and mouth moving but not forming any words.
Bingo!
Hibiki smirked triumphantly.
"So you did shoot while they were distracted. I was wondering about that," he admitted and shrugged, deceivingly unconcerned about that fact. "I had my suspicions, because, well, you don't seem like the type that wants to risk bodily harm against an opponent. Still, it's very nice of you to confirm my theory. It goes a little like this: it doesn't matter if they appear to be weaker than you. You play it safe. You freeze when there's a risk."
As if to emphasize his point, his switchblades gleamed with the sunlight. Sawada's skin complexion was chalk-white. The man had yet to move from his spot.
Hibiki's grin showed teeth. "You are afraid. Dead terrified, in fact. I bet you don't do this for a living. Actually, your work was too sloppy for this to be anything but your first murder. And it wasn't premeditated. It's too passionate, too much blood involved. To cut them up like that afterwards... There must have been a lot bad blood between the two of you, isn't that right?"
He wasn't looking for answers, but after that question, a heavy silence descended between the two of them. They both knew there was nothing that the other could use to defend himself. The illegal possession of the gun would be incriminating for itself, landing Sawada a few years in prison already. Japan's gun laws were amongst the mightiest across the globe. And that was if they didn't convict him for assault and murder.
"As I said, you got carried away. I'm sure you wasted one too many bullets on your victim just to reassure yourself that your victim was dead—and you totally enjoyed doing it, so don't bother denying it. So caught in the moment, you didn't notice that you were making several…" Hibiki hummed thoughtfully for a moment before his visage turned positively feral. "Mistakes," he purred. "When you killed for the first time ever, you used up your secret weapon and left yourself no choice but to scramble for a quick solution. Hiding a body is no easy feat. But you must know that now, right?"
The other man blanched at the jab.
"On the other hand, you don't even blink at the prospect of carrying around a dismembered body in public. So… perhaps you have done this before. Not the murdering part, no. But perhaps you have helped others get rid of incriminating evidence—bodies, weapons and ammunition? Do you know how difficult is to get ahold of guns in Japan? If you were part of a smuggling ring it would explain why you had access to a firearm without having planned for anything ahead. But one thing is for sure… This certainly isn't your first time seeing a corpse this close. I can't think of another reason why you would dare to do this otherwise. Why Niigata Station? Why not somewhere else? This is me merely speculating, so I apologize if I get this wrong," said Hibiki lightly and with an insincere smile tugging at his lips.
He glanced at Sawada's tattooed hand, which he had first glimpsed when the man was speaking on the phone.
Dipped in black ink, it was only one letter of the western alphabet: Z.
Was there a story behind that? It was perfectly possible. Sawada wouldn't have acted alone. It wasn't in the man's character to make the first step without any backing. Someone must have drafted him in at the beginning of his criminal career (possibly blackmailed/coerced into joining?) because he also couldn't see him actually wanting to get involved with a smuggling ring.
"Hypothetically speaking," Hibiki drawled sharply, examining his captive closely, "you have an underground network backing your illicit activities. Small enough not to be a massive criminal syndicate, but big enough so that you have enough resources to dance around the authorities. There's no way a big criminal organization would have recruited someone this inexperienced into their ranks unless they wanted mooks doing their dirty work."
Theatrically, Hibiki sighed. He was always one with a peculiar flair for the dramatic.
"Right now, there are agents waiting for you at the station who have agreed to undertake the risk of taking the body to another location. That's the sole reason why you were willing to carry the body around for so long and in front of so many people. It was decided this way in order to make things harder for any search that the police could initiate when they caught wind of your victim's disappearance. And, yeah, they would eventually have looked for a missing living person. With nothing to suggest murder, they would be hard pressed to open a murder investigation. Whether your agents had planned to take a train to somewhere specific or not, I don't know yet."
"My point being… in the end, the victim's body would have never been retrieved by the authorities if your accomplices were meticulous enough with their cover up, and, without the stress of having to hide the body, any damning evidence that could have been used to convict you of the crime you committed would have disappeared without anyone being the wiser."
"But," Hibiki popped the word, as if to taste it in his mouth, "your ego couldn't handle not being able to taunt the police of your accomplishment. After all, they weren't useful when the smuggling ring came to recruit you. Why would it be different now? So, because you were feeling bitter, you just had to prove that you could come out on top when you wanted to. Hence why you decided to dump the head in the middle of Niigata Station. With so many people around, the police would wonder how you had done it and their incompetence would be exposed. By the time someone noticed, you would have been long gone. You didn't care if your impulsive actions were counterproductive to your original plans. In the end, the resulting panic when someone discovered the head would have been more than worth it. And if the police tried to put you in jail… well…"
The deceptively harmless teenager looked at the shocked criminal in the eye.
"If there's no concrete evidence, they wouldn't be able to keep you behind bars," Hibiki concluded in a soft voice. "Who was your victim, Sawada-san? My eyes are good, but I couldn't tell the gender of your victim. Was it your lover? Your neighbor? A childhood crush?"
In answer, the man's eyes rolled back in head and he dropped limply to the floor. He was out cold before he even hit the floor.
The whole thing was too funny for him. Hibiki had to bite his lower lip in order not to laugh. He returned his knives back in his pockets without sparing the action a thought and crossed his arms to stare at the unconscious man.
"Couldn't handle the pressure," Hibiki muttered, feeling like he had been let down somehow.
"Well," a familiar voice said. "That takes care of that."
Turning, Hibiki flushed in embarrassment at the flat look Inspector Hagure was giving him. That was bad. He hadn't even noticed him coming. Caught in all the excitement of his deduction, he had dropped his guard.
Amazingly, the sirens of the police cars were deafening to his ears now.
"Are you done?" Wakana walked up to him, face unreadable.
"Yeah," he said meekly, "Sorry?"
The high schooler whacked him on the head. Twice. Thrice.
"You! Stupid! Moron!"
Hibiki yelped, "Sorry, sorry!" and backed away before his skull gave in.
Unfortunately for him, however, Wakana was practically spitting fire. "We are going to be late because of you!" she snapped, pointing one finger accusingly at him.
Woah! Retreat! Retreat! Hibiki's instincts flared in warning.
"And why is this my fault!?" he yelled.
"Every time I go anywhere with you, something like this happens!" she yelled back.
"I said I was sorry, okay!? Things happen to me! I don't actively search for murderers in my free time, you know?"
"We should get you a miko to exorcise you! This has 'supernatural influence' written all over it!"
Hibiki scoffed and crossed his arms. "Oh, trust me, I will! Then you won't be able to use this argument against me!"
"Good!" Wakana spat.
"Fine!" Hibiki retorted.
Wakana gritted through her teeth, "Great!"
Inspector Hagure coughed into his fist. Both teenagers, who had been going for each other's throats, turned to glare at him.
"What!?" they yelled simultaneously and then they were back to glaring at each other.
Even the toughest of policemen were intimidated by this terrifying duo, but Hagure Ryouta had been hanging around them too much for him to be intimidated. Unlike the rest of his men, he had yet to back away from the bickering teenagers.
"Excuse me, Yamazaki-san," the inspector said diplomatically, "but I need Kuno-kun to give his statement."
"Go ahead," Wakana groaned with a resigned wave of her hand. "Take all the time you need."
Of course it went implied only that she didn't mean that literally, as evidenced by the impatient tapping of her feet.
Smiling politely at the detective's childhood friend, Inspector Hagure tugged Hibiki to a side and began his routine questioning.
"Kuno-kun, what did I tell you about those knives?" Hagure chided with the voice of a long-suffering man.
Hibiki looked away, crossed his arms defiantly and said nothing to the inspector.
"Ah… never mind," Hagure gave up. Because at this point in time he knew that Kuno and knives were a given combination. As long as nobody died, it was fine. "Now, how did you know the name of the criminal, again? You lost me in the middle of your deduction." The old man rolled his eyes. "Again, might I add."
Hearing the annoyance, Hibiki swatted playfully at the older man's shoulder and pointed to the sports bag.
"He had that tagged," he said.
Under the blotches of blood, Sawada Hiroshi was perfectly legible.
Inspector Hagure groaned aloud. It was so painfully obvious.
"You should also check out his cellphone," Hibiki suggested helpfully, "That might come handy when you intercept Sawada-san's accomplices at the station. The culprit spoke to them not so long ago. The devices are incriminating evidence of their cooperation."
"We already were planning on it," Hagure said.
"And look for people with tattooed hands in Niigata Station."
That brought the inspector up short, not able to follow his line of thought this time.
"What for?" he asked.
Had he not listened to the last part of his deduction? Hibiki had assumed he had, but maybe he'd not been loud enough for him to get everything from afar.
Thus, Hibiki smirked cheerfully.
"Congrats, inspector. You're about to take down your first criminal organization."
.
"Woah, look at this! The police took down a smuggling ring stationed in Sado Island! They found seventeen AutoMags, ten light machine guns and two assault rifles!"
"No way, dude!" A huge crowd huddled close around the center of the classroom, talking animatedly over someone's phone. "The mayor knew about it too?! Man, they are going to be in so much trouble…"
"Can't trust politicians. Never."
"Can't say I disagree."
"Incredible. Does anyone know if Kuno was there?"
"I dunno… He did arrive late today, though!"
Wakana groaned and banged her head on her desk.
"I just want to get away from the craziness," she mumbled into the wood. "Just one day. Is that too much to ask?"
"Apparently," Hibiki reasoned. He too was annoyed by this turn of events. To think the police would let the information leak into the media so soon… "If one more person asks me if I was involved, I'm going to scream."
"But you are involved."
"I know."
"You are always in the thick of it."
"I know and that's what irritates me," Hibiki moaned.
Wakana glared at him. "You will go see that miko," she threatened.
Hibiki glared weakly at her.
"I already promised, didn't I?" he asked.
"You will go today," she decided with one of her eyebrows twitching, as if that solved anything.
.
When Hibiki came back to his house, tired and irritable from the long day he'd had today, he was in time to witness his father go through a major hissy fit.
"Um…" Hibiki hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do. He turned a questioning brow in his mother's direction.
As usual, his mother flashed him a sunny smile. There was nothing in her expression that belied that she was going to have a meltdown anytime soon, but that didn't ease his worry in the slightest.
"Sorry, son, but I don't want to be the bearer of the bad news," she said airily.
Bad news?
At her words, his father twirled in place to face Hibiki with a grim expression. Held between his father's fists, the Niigata Nippo was rolled tightly into a ball. He couldn't see what had unsettled his father so much, but it didn't look like it was a good thing.
"Come on," he beckoned Hibiki inside and stormed his way to the study without so much as to wait for a response.
The door to the study was still ominously open.
Hibiki, who wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed right now, today's events be damned, very reluctantly shed his sneakers to put his in-house footwear.
His mother saw the hesitation.
"It's fine. You aren't in trouble," she assured her son. She bent to pick up the laundry that she had left to rest on the floor. It was already ironed and folded nicely.
"Then why the drama?" asked the bewildered teenager.
His mother's eyes glinted with something indiscernible.
"You'll have to ask Hideyuki about that. My mouth's staying shut," she sang.
Hibiki shot her a suspicious glare, but dropped the matter all the same. When Sumi wasn't feeling up for talking, something suspicious was going on. That was a fact.
Summoning all his courage, Hibiki knocked on the study's door to announce his presence.
"Dad?"
Kuno Hideyuki was looking out the window. A storm was raging ahead and it would hit the city soon. His father didn't turn to greet him as he entered.
"I heard you were involved in a police investigation today," he told him. To his relief, no trace of the earlier rage could be found in his voice.
"Yeah," Hibiki sighed. "It caught me by surprise too. It's the second time this week that's happened."
Hibiki could see the fierceness of Hideyuki's posture softening. The older man heaved a quivering sigh as he relaxed his posture to a milder one.
"They are getting more frequent," his father informed him plainly, turning to face him for the first time. The older man's had some steel in them yet. "A year ago you wouldn't have stumbled across a corpse, except two or three times a year. But now it's almost a daily occurrence."
He… couldn't deny that, now that he thought about it. Hibiki had neglected to give the fact much thought. That may have been a mistake. He'd seen his fair share of bodies from the hits he'd agreed to do and maybe he's been desensitized because of it.
Wakana had been calling him Corpse Magnet not too long since first meeting him, (something that bugged him to no end) but lately something must have taken up the phrasing to be of the literal kind. That was… not good. With bodies came murderers and not necessarily of the tamer kind he'd encountered today.
That said, Hibiki had no idea how to react to that.
"A new complication," he muttered, mind racing.
"Yes. Indeed, there's much to discuss," his father admitted softly. Hideyuki dropped on his seat like a sack of potatoes and even sagged on the leather as one.
He waited until his son was seated opposite of him to begin his explanation.
"Have you read today's news, son?"
"No, I can't say I had the time," Hibiki admitted.
"Well, you'd better find the time to do so next time. You can't keep yourself in the dark when things like these come up," his father said.
"Things like what?"
"See it for yourself," he said and Hideyuki tossed him a ball of paper. Or rather, Hideyuki tossed him the rolled up newspaper he'd seen his father holding when he came in. Fortunately, Hibiki caught it before it could hit him on the face.
Quirking an eyebrow at his father, Hibiki expertly began unwinding the layers of paper with his hands. The familiar format of this newspaper allowed him to organize its pages in proper order and he did so knowing that his father was watching him do it.
Carefully, so very carefully, he began to read.
On the front page, Kaitou KID's newest notice made an appearance on the news.
"'Kaitou KID's newest challenge goes to Kuno Hideyuki, Head Curator at Aizu Yaichi Museum!"
"'The latest heist to be announced by the internationally renowned thief, Kaitou KID, may be one that breaks the habit. Yesterday morning, a heist notice has been mailed to the Kuno household, where the current Head Curator of Aizu Yaichi Museum, Kuno Hideyuki, resides. What is KID's newest target? No one knows. The targeted museum is overtly known for exclusively showcasing the work of the local poet, calligrapher and historian, Aizu Yaichi. Thus, the reason why the thief's taunts have caused so much confusion with the local authorities this time around.'"
"'Aizu Yaichi was born in the Furumachi area of Niigata, Niigata, and was a professor emeritus of ancient Chinese and Japanese art at Waseda University. His focus was mostly on Buddhist art of the Asuka and Nara eras. Nothing in the poet's biography clears up why Kaitou KID is suddenly interested in his works, as it deviates from his usual MO. No jewels have ever been housed in the museum—or so we have been led to believe until this day. Nevertheless, the challenge has already been issued and the police force is already arranging for preventive measures against the internationally wanted thief.'"
From the get go, it had been clear that this piece of information was going to be distressing. He hadn't expected for this article to announce such a turnaround in his life.
Kuroba was coming here.
Hibiki lowered the paper with much care, eyes unfocused and taking in what he had just read. Bitter smoke glided freely inside the room, product of his father's smoking, as they wondered what this could mean for them.
The teenager cleared his throat.
"Another thing that's different," Hibiki allowed, "Kaitou KID has never been in Niigata."
"So it is," Hideyuki murmured, breathing in the tobacco and the thick toxic fumes. "There was no Kuno family in your version of events either, so it shouldn't be strange to think that things wouldn't stay the same. A rock will create waves, but even the lightest of spiders will sink into the water if they stay on the surface for too long."
The young assassin shot him a blank expression and snorted. He scanned the article again with a passing glance.
"Where's the notice? They haven't put it up. That's rare," Hibiki commented.
"I have it," his father replied calmly.
His son nodded, having expected that.
"So what now?" Hibiki asked.
"We've already checked everything in that damned museum," Hideyuki revealed. "There's no jewel, of that you can make sure."
"This could be a fake then," Hibiki muttered. He rubbed his chin as he thought.
"Could be," his father allowed. "But even if he is, then this just means that the real Kaitou KID will show up in the chaos."
Hibiki huffed out a short laugh.
"You say? Oh, Dad, that much's guaranteed. The dumb guy will do everything for the benefit of Kuroba Toichi's night persona's reputation. Kaitou KID doesn't do fakes," he spat. "It puts a cramp in his style."
His father rested his chin on his joined hands. The same glint Hibiki had seen in his mother's eyes was being reflected in his eyes.
"You know his identity, son. You could always tell the police where to strike. Surely that would take care of the problem?"
Hibiki shook his head.
"No. Kaitou KID is a risk, but not a petty felon. Besides, I kinda get where he comes from. What you are suggesting is the same as putting a bullet through his head. I already told you of his circumstances, didn't I? Kuroba is after that nameless Organization and Pandora. As long as we don't have anything they want, they'll vanish back into the night," he said.
Hideyuki pressed the butt of his cigarette into an ashtray.
"What makes you so sure of that?"
Yeah. What makes you so sure? he asked himself. Where was he getting this confidence from?
Hibiki got up and started pacing.
Quietly, he said, "There's no need for an assassin to step in. My deductive skills aren't even that good. And the thief and the detective have always been a successful duo. Another player will put a wrench in the works, possibly disturb the balance irreparably. We do as we always have. We lie low. Things will work out. The story will progress the way it would without our intervention."
Hideyuki's eyes never left his son, cool and collected. A true Poker Face, ironically enough.
"Or they could not," he pointed out. "Kudou Shinichi has already been targeted and subjected to the APTX 4869. As such, Sleeping Kogoro is already making a name for himself in Tokyo. But they are looking, son. People could see you, or worse, they could mistake you for him. The resemblance is uncanny."
Hibiki laughed, loudly, without bothering to conceal the hysterical undertone he surely was projecting all over the room.
"You didn't hold back on the names either," he hacked out in between the pearls of laughter, "Hibiki—Shinichi. Kuno—Kudou. Were you deliberately setting me up for this since birth?"
Hideyuki stayed silent.
"I mean, look at me!" The teenager gestured at himself.
It was as if the Detective of the East himself was standing in front of Kuno Hideyuki. Same hairstyle, even. 'Uncanny' was understating it. The uniform he wore was a parallel to what his counterpart used for Teitan High School, baring the tie, which was dark red instead of green.
"I even have that bastard's luck! Have you heard the news? Of how someone named Sawada Hiroshi was apprehended in Niigata Station for trying to hide a body there? Do you know who stopped him? Me, that's who! I thought nobody would try to do anything while I was passing through that place because it would be stupid to try with so many people around! But, oh boy, was I wrong!" Hibiki hissed through his teeth, like he was confessing a great crime himself.
He was frustrated. He was furious with himself and Sawada for being a fool. He didn't enjoy coming across murderers on a daily basis, unlike Kudou and Hattori. Those two got their kick off solving mysteries, something he'd never managed to get.
"Then there's Kuroba," he said, "Kuroba Kaito, the son of the famous magician, Kuroba Toichi. He's coming here to interrupt the relative peace I've achieved in all the chaos that has been sown into my life!" Hibiki took a deep breath to grasp some semblance to calm. It took a couple for him to finally settle down.
Hideyuki coughed awkwardly, "You done?"
Hibiki sent him a baleful glare.
"Right, stupid question," his father laughed sheepishly and sighed.
Hibiki scoffed and crossed his arms. "Just get on with it."
His comment earned him a good-natured roll of his eyes.
"No one is coming here to take away anything from you, son," Hideyuki began calmly. "They don't know you exist."
"Feels like it," Hibiki retorted immediately.
"Just because you feel something is happening, that doesn't mean that is necessarily true. You more than anyone else knows that. Let us not panic over what can be nothing."
Taking his precious time, his father lit up another smoke. He examined him closely before coming to a snap decision. His father retrieved something from the pocket of his coat and slapped a slip of paper on the table. With a stupid doodle casting a Glasgow grin at them.
"This is the original notice. The press doesn't have it because the police didn't want the information getting in the wrong hands. At my insistence, of course," he said with a quirk of his lips. Otherwise, he spoke without giving away anything else. The older man's eyes were flinty. There was a wall where there usually were feelings. "That Nakamori fellow is a piece of work, let me tell you that."
Hibiki couldn't help smiling at that. "I did warn you. You can't say I didn't."
"So you did," his father dipped his head to apologize for not believing him straight away. Hibiki's assessment of Nakamori-san had been spot-on. Hot-headed and loud.
The man folded his hands together and stared contemplatively at him.
"Hibiki… You decide what to do now, but if you stay put and don't do anything, there might be consequences for all of us all the same."
Hibiki didn't even look at the card. He stared, mesmerized at the unusual spectacle his father made today.
"Understood," he nodded stiffly.
"And remember that family comes first before anything," Hideyuki stated flatly. There was no argument allowed there. "I cannot stress this enough. Sumi, as kind-hearted as she is, may want you to experience the world at the fullest, but not me. You won't risk your life for perfect strangers. I won't allow it if there's no good cause behind your reasoning."
Hibiki nodded. This was his father's way to tell him he trusted him enough to make a call. But before doing anything, he had to think things through. It was a simple show of trust, but it meant the world to him.
"Thank you," Hibiki murmured, touched.
Hideyuki reached out and mussed his short hair. He gave him a throaty laugh when he saw the end product of his styling, which, of course, wasn't all that good at all.
"That's my boy," he smiled, pleased with him and their little arrangement.
The sound of the door closing hinted at some kind of closure.
A/N: My first try at a OC-centered story. This is a WIP, but if it's well-received, I'll try to continue it.
My fascination with Detective Conan and the fandom's lack of stories have spawned a weird kind of self-insert. To clear things up, it's not so much me being inserted into the story, but rather someone who shares some of my personality and it's a just as gifted as the other Gosho Boys. In other areas, of course.
With a darker nature and much more violent than his counterparts, I am quite proud of Kuno Hibiki's character design. While he's almost like a carbon copy of Shinichi in appearance, his personality doesn't really allow him to uphold the same morals. Their backgrounds are quite different; blame insane parents. And while Hibiki will not hesitate to kill someone when things get rough, he won't be joining a criminal organization any time soon, so don't worry on that front. Or if he does, he won't be turning evil any time soon either.
Hibiki is self-aware of which dimension he was reborn in and has future knowledge of this world; he kind of figured that if he didn't piss off the wrong people and stayed away from the main plot, he and his loved ones would be safe from harm. Or well, as safe as they could be with corpses practically sprouting from the ground for Hibiki to find.
Sounds similar, huh?
Setting is in Niigata, but not for much longer.
Betas are much appreciated. And suggestions and corrections are welcome as well. Deductive reasoning isn't my greatest strength and I need opinions on how I've done in this.
The image isn't mine.
Thank you.
(8/24/16) Edit: Changed image. Thank you, Photoshop.
(7/30/18): Edit: Modified things to give a better flow to the story.
I forgot to mention: Hi-boke-me is a bunch of Japanese insults mixed together with Hibiki's name. Same with Bakana. I love doing this hahahaha
