Disclaimers: All original characters belong to their creators; the Mythverse AU was created in collaboration with Ellen Brand. For Shinichi and Heiji's first meeting in Mythverse in detail, please refer to Stone Dead. Heiji and Shinichi are currently both 15.

Snake Eyes

"Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after."
~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

It was funny. Six weeks and a hunt later, Shinichi's somewhat caustic personality still hadn't scared Hattori off. Of course, it probably helped that A) Hattori could keep up with Shinichi, so that comments and quips batted back and forth between them, and B) when the snark was too biting to allow for a comeback that didn't tread into dangerous territory, the Osakan boy just laughed.

"Oi, Kudou!" At the familiar call, Shinichi pulled his attention back to the train station platform. Hattori grinned and waved when he caught Shinichi's eye, ducking between gaps in pedestrian traffic with practiced ease as he approached. "Good to see ya."

Shinichi smirked. "On my own merits, or because I'm giving you a legitimate reason to be out of Osaka?"

"I plead the fifth."

"We're in Japan, idiot."

"So?"

Shinichi shook his head. "Come on, let's go drop your backpack off at home."

Hattori grinned again as they headed out. "Not the bokken?" He reached back to adjust the wooden sword beside his bag.

"Afternoon practice at the dojo is in an hour. I figured you'd like the chance to work out."

Hattori chuckled, a touch ruefully. "Yeah, I would. It's been a long week."

"It sounded like it, when you asked to come up for a few days. Same old argument?" Shinichi hadn't actually seen a verbal sparring match between Hattori and his father, but he had spent an entire meal subject to Oni Heizo's disapproving glare when he'd first run across Hattori in Osaka.

"Mmm. Still a minor, leave things to the professionals — like the license doesn't make me a professional…"

Shinichi let Hattori vent without protest. He'd heard the aggrieved rant before, so it was easy enough to half-listen and respond, not to mention he had the same list of grievances toward interfering adults, mainly well-meaning police officers. At least unlike Hattori, Shinichi was lucky enough that his father wasn't included in that category. So he listened, agreeing occasionally, until Hattori wound down on the ranting and they switched to catching up until they reached Shinichi's house.

"We're home!" Shinichi called as he kicked off his shoes, then beckoned urgently to Hattori. "Come on, maybe if we're lucky we can—"

"Welcome home, Shin-chan!" The enthusiastic carol heralded his mother's entrance, and Shinichi groaned under his breath as Hattori got swept into the wake of Typhoon Yukiko. Within about thirty seconds, the younger teen's eyes had glazed over in the face of her overbearing personality. Luckily, Shinichi managed to stage an intervention before Yukiko dragged Hattori into the library to meet Yuusaku as well, citing the need to get to the dojo on time, which Yukiko reluctantly allowed.

"We'll talk over dinner!" she called up the stairs after them, waving with a cheery grin before disappearing to another part of the house.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Shinichi sighed. "Sorry. I'd hoped mom would still be gone at lunch."

"That was your mother?" Hattori shook his head, as if to clear it. "Sheesh."

Shinichi gave him a wry smile. "My mother is a force of nature: best experienced in small doses, or from a great distance. Come on, my room's this way."

Hattori followed without complaint. "Your dad is a very brave, and possibly crazy, man."

"You have no idea."

With Hattori's bag safely stashed beside the futon on Shinichi's floor, Shinichi decided to escape the house while the going was good. He loved his parents, he really did, but they drove him insane. Or at least insane embarrassment, which was almost as bad.

Maybe if they traveled more… but dad said that the recluse angle added to his writer's mystique. Shinichi privately suspected that Yuusaku preferred staying where he knew where everything was.

"So…" Hattori drawled during the bus ride to the dojo. "Is Kenshin-sensei gonna be there today?"

Shinichi shrugged. "Unless he's been dragged off on another quest to save the world."

He managed to hold a straight face for about ten seconds before he dissolved into helpless snickers at Hattori's expression. "Oh, man, your face…"

"Hey!" Hattori protested. "The way you've gone on about him, for I know he coulda been."

"Nah. Not since I've known him, at least. Though Yahiko-kun does like to tell about how not long after Kenshin-sensei first arrived — before I started taking lessons there — he took down a drug cartel with only a half-oni brawler for backup."

"You're kiddin' me. And nobody died?"

Shinichi smiled. "That's Kenshin-sensei."

Hattori raised an eyebrow. "Why'd he do it, if he doesn't make a habit of it?"

"Whenever Yahiko-kun gets to that part, he either catches someone's eye and glosses, or Sano-niisan — the brawler, he pretty much freeloads there in exchange for being a student-target occasionally — cuffs him before he can say. I'm betting something got personal."

Hattori shrugged. "There's worse reasons."

"Yeah." The silence hung in the air for a moment, until their bus began to slow. "Come on, this is our stop."

Hattori followed him onto the street, taking in the neighborhood with interest. "Is this Chiyoda Ward? I remember reading an article about the historical district near the Imperial Palace…"

Shinichi grinned. "Yep. Welcome to Edo. The Kamiya dojo's been here since the beginning of the Meiji period. Kaoru-sensei's father was actually a big community leader in the movement to keep the neighborhood renovated to stay looking like the old days, even if they do use modern conveniences. And traffic lights."

"Cool." Hattori seemed too absorbed by the scenery to be good for much more conversation. Shinichi led the way and, if he were being perfectly honest with himself, indulged in playing tour guide the way Hattori had in Osaka the day after their second meeting. It was really only fair, now that Shinichi knew almost more about Osaka's major landmarks than he did about Tokyo's. You had to give Hattori credit for loving his hometown, if nothing else.

"The neighborhood's general practitioner is on the corner there," Shinichi pointed out. "The dojo is just down the street."

"That's handy."

"Yeah. The doctors are family friends, too. They're over for dinner a lot."

Hattori cocked his head thoughtfully. "Like you?"

"I stayed for dinner a lot more often two years ago than lately," Shinichi admitted, half-amused and half-rueful that the other teen had caught the implication.

Kenshin had known that Shinichi'd needed more than just instruction in form when he'd first begun taking kendo. The fact that he was only a year older than Yahiko and they both got along just made for a nice bonus — or at least an excuse.

Returning to the present, Shinichi continued, "It's a non-profit clinic, so it's pretty affordable, and the head doctor is nice. His intern is only scary if you hurt yourself doing something stupid, like breaking an ankle swinging from the roof to the engawa. For the record, that was Yahiko-kun, not me. The worst I've done is sprain my wrist by accident."

Hattori scoffed. "At least in Tokyo. Lucky you got your arm set in Osaka, then, and avoided her wrath."

Shinichi grinned wryly. "Sort of. She glared at me when I was over to play video games when the cast was still on."

"I like her already."

"Idiot."

"But I can kick yer butt in a swordfight," Hattori boasted with a smirk.

"Can not."

"Can so. You 'n' me, we're sparring today."

"If you want to lose so badly, I may just have to give you what you want."

"In your dreams."

They debate continued as they passed the entrance to the dojo grounds, which prompted Yahiko to stop lounging on the engawa outside the dojo entrance and wave. "Hey, Shinichi-kun!"

Shinichi waved back. "Yahiko-kun, hey. This is Hattori Heiji. Hattori, Myojin Yahiko-kun."

"Myojin?"

Shinichi hid a wince. Right, he'd already mentioned that Yahiko was Kaoru's brother…

Yahiko shrugged, face scrupulously unaffected. Shinichi doubted Hattori would believe it for a second. "Kaoru's dad married mom five years ago. They never got around to changing my name before they died."

Because, as Shinichi'd learned after a late-night gaming sleepover near the anniversary of the event, a car crash had ensured that the newlywed couple never made it home from their honeymoon alive. Kaoru had inherited the dojo, a modest trust, a full-time teaching position, and a little brother, all a few weeks shy of turning sixteen.

"I'm sorry you lost them," Hattori offered, proving that had actually did have the empathy God gave a gnat, if not much more.

"Yeah, well. It's nice to meet you, anyway." Yahiko grinned. "It's about time Shinichi-kun proved he actually knows you and brought me a sparring partner on my level."

"Hey!" Shinichi protested. "What am I, sashimi?" His relative lack of experience in kendo meant that he probably couldn't match his friends in a fair fight, but it wouldn't do to actually admit it.

Yahiko turned, gesturing for them to follow. "What you are is almost late. Come on, you've got five minutes to change."

"What? Why didn't you say so? Come on, Kudou!" Hattori all but grabbed Shinichi to hustle in Yahiko's wake.

They made it onto the floor with a few seconds to spare, and Shinichi introduced Hattori to Kaoru and Kenshin before practice began and Kenshin took the beginning students to the other side of the dojo. To Shinichi's surprise, Kaoru's face lit up in a positively evil smile.

"Welcome to the Kamiya dojo, Hattori-kun," she practically purred. "How would you feel about demonstrating some techniques for the students?"

For a moment, Shinichi wondered how much of Hattori's frustration Kaoru could read, because the acknowledgment of his abilities was exactly what Hattori needed to hear. The irrepressible Osakan responded with a bright grin. "If ya want."

"Who's he?" one of the students behind Shinichi whispered to his neighbor as they spread out to warm up. The other boy shrugged, but Yahiko overheard and leaned over.

"That's the Osakan Junior High Regional kendo champ, dope. We both made it to the Under-17 National quarterfinals last July."

Which neatly explained why Kaoru recognized Hattori, as well — the dojo had been closed for a few days while Kaoru helped referee Yahiko's competition. The other students fell silent, suitably impressed, and practice began.

Kaoru kept her word, using Hattori and Sanosuke to demonstrate two more complicated kendo forms, ones Shinichi thought he might have seen Hattori use during their last hunt but otherwise hadn't observed outside of a kendo tournament. Hattori didn't even blink at Sanosuke's towering, if skinny, frame when Kaoru summoned the half-oni to play the opponent. If anything, the two looked each other up and down and then grinned in recognition of a kindred spirit.

What did garner a raised eyebrow from Hattori was how Kaoru always focused on the practical use of each technique over any tournament strategy. She even went so far as to point out that the techniques only worked in a handful of situation in real life, far less than when judges prevented an attacker from fighting dirty. Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu wasn't a kenjutsu discipline, though a few existed in Tokyo and even in the Edo neighborhood, but as kendo styles went it remembered its old roots more than most. That was part of why Shinichi had chosen it in the first place, before he'd met Kenshin.

Speaking of Kenshin… The man approached Hattori after practice ended, while all the students were cleaning up and drifting out of the dojo.

"Hattori-kun, could you help me store the beginner's mats? There are a great many of them, and I have only one pair of hands, that I do…"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." Hattori left off arranging some of the sparring pads students borrowed during practice and let the diminutive redhead usher him away.

Shinich hung back, sweeping the dojo floor with Yahiko, who gave him a smile once the other two were out of earshot. "He's cool."

"He grows on you."

"That much is obvious, if you've only known him a month or two and he's over for a sleepover." Yahiko pretended to wipe away an imaginary tear. "Someday you'll even be—" a mock gasp "—sociable!"

"Bite me, Yahiko-kun," Shinichi sniped back, thwapping him with the broom. "We've got a lot in common, I guess…" He trailed off. He didn't really get it himself. Hattori just was.

"It happens that way sometimes. At lease he doesn't eat all your food, right?"

Shinichi chuckled. "Not yet. He's just obsessed with takoyaki."

"See, could be much worse." Yahiko swept the last of the debris out the door and off the engawa, twirling the broom to rest on his shoulder like a misshapen shinai. "You could have a freeloading oni on your couch."

"Oi! I heard that, you punk!" Sano called as he crossed the yard from the house proper, carrying a few canned drinks in one arm.

"That's the point, Sano-niisan!" Shinichi called back with a grin.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to respect your elders?"

"Who are you calling an elder?" Yahiko countered. "You're just old."

"Just for that, I'm drinkin' the soda Kaoru sent for you." Tossing one can at Shinichi, Sano pocketed one and opened the last in a few swift movements, ignoring Yahiko's squawk of rage. He chugged the entire drink without pause, despite Yahiko pouncing on his back to stop him.

"And—dammit, runt, get off—another thing," Sano added with an impressive belch, wrestling Yahiko back to the ground as Shinichi watched in amusement. "Ya owe me a thousand yen from our last game of Chou-Han."

"No way! I know you were cheating, ya big lummox! Nobody gets even three times in a row with Snake Eyes!

"It was my lucky night!"

"Sano, you have been taking Yahiko gambling, my friend?" Kenshin stood in the dojo doorway with Hattori, hands tucked inside his sleeves and a deceptively mild expression on his face. "Kaoru-dono promised to break both your legs if she caught you corrupting him, that she did."

"I — um — crap. Just remembered I'm late for meeting Katsu downtown. Gotta go, back later!" Sano tossed the last soda toward Kenshin and Hattori, and was out the gate by the time Kenshin caught it with one hand.

Yahiko turned a pleading look on Kenshin. "Don't tell her, Kenshin, pleeeease? It was just one night with Sano-niisan and Katsu-san and some friends, and I didn't lose more than my allowance for this month."

Kenshin shook his head with a smile. "Keeping secrets is not the way to treat family, that it is not, Yahiko-kun. If your chores are done, I suggest you three go to the arcade for a few hours. Kaoru-dono should have calmed down by dinner time, that she should."

Yahiko gulped. "I am never listening to Sano-niisan ever again. Come on, Shinichi-kun, Heiji-kun, we've gotta change."

Shinichi exchanged an amused look with Hattori, and followed. Kaoru was terrifying when she was angry, and the arcade was both fun and a way to stay out of their respective houses until dinner.

The arcade visit was remarkably low-key, if you discounted the budding rivalry between Yahiko and Hattori in the fighting games. Shinichi was so entertained watching the trash talk that he didn't even bother with his usual haunt, the Hunter Missions shooter game.

That is, he didn't until after Heiji challenged him to replace Yahiko for a round of game-fighting to make up for the spar they'd missed out on that afternoon. With his pride at stake, Shinichi agreed like an idiot, and got thoroughly trounced. The shooter game was his demand for a rematch, and permitted him to rebuild the tattered shreds of his dignity as Hattori gave the final scores a look of shocked disbelief.

"Ninety-nine percent accuracy?" Hattori's gaze darted between Shinichi's near-perfect score and his own mediocre outcome. "How the hell did you learn to shoot like that, and why didn't you tell me?"

Shinichi grinned, a little bit lopsided. "Hawaii. My dad taught me when we went there on vacation a few years ago. I didn't mention it because I can't get a permit for one for another ten years, even with my Hunter's license."

It had been their last family vacation outside of Japan in four years.

Hattori shook his head. "Still, good to know. Especially since there's no way I'm playing versus mode against you on a shooter again."

"Sore loser," Shinichi teased.

"Am not! I'm justifiably refusing to be slaughtered like this again."

"Sooore looooooser…"

"Kudou!"

Yahiko was too busy laughing himself sick to help Shinichi escape Hattori's noogie.

When the dinner hour rolled around, Yahiko reluctantly headed home to the dojo while Shinichi and Hattori returned to Beika. Hattori seemed quietly thoughtful on the bus, and Shinichi was happy enough leaving him to his thoughts until he felt like saying anything. Unlike most other people Shinichi knew, silence with Hattori was comfortable, not stilted.

Hattori spoke after they'd reached Shinichi's neighborhood. "Hey, Kudou? …Thanks."

Shinichi smiled. "No problem."

"I get what you meant about Kenshin-sensei before. I've never met someone like him."

"I don't think anybody has," Shinichi admitted. "He's one of a kind." Particularly contrasted to Hattori Heizo, both in appearance and personality. The two couldn't be more opposite.

"I'll definitely be in Tokyo for Nationals again this year… maybe I'll see him there."

"Probably. He'll be happy to see you."

Hattori gave him an uncertain, sidelong glance. "…You think so?"

"Absolutely. That's just who he is." Kenshin was happy to see anyone, especially someone he'd taken an interest in. The interest was obvious, since he'd taken Hattori aside earlier, and whatever they'd talked about seemed to have helped.

Hattori smiled. "Cool."

They reached Shinichi's house and went inside, switching shoes for house slippers again. "We're home!" Shinichi called, closing the door behind them.

"Welcome home!" Yukiko's voice rang from the vicinity of the kitchen. "Dinner is in about half an hour."

"Okay!" He turned to Heiji. "We can get our gear put away, and then I'll give you a tour of the house."

"Sure. Lead the way."

After showing off the upstairs, Shinichi skipped the kitchen and headed for the library. If Yuusaku weren't deaf to the world at the moment, Hattori might as well meet him before dinner. The door was open, so Shinichi led the way inside, but the room was empty.

"Dad?"

As was typical for Yuusaku, the desk in the middle of the room was impeccably neat, empty except for the custom-built computer that had been a gift from the Winner Corporation a few years back. On the other side of the library, the door leading to the music room had been closed. A paper posted to the door declared in wobbly, near-illegible kanji, 'Brainstorm in Progress: Stay out to avoid the mess.'

Shinichi sighed mentally. He'd never figured out why his dad kept his phone there rather than in the library, other than that the music room had no windows and was soundproofed against the rest of the house. Regardless, if Yuusaku was on the phone with his publishers then he'd likely be tied up until dinnertime.

"Woah…" Hattori's awed voice pulled Shinichi's attention back to the library. He turned to see Hattori craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the books covering every inch of wall space in the circular room's two stories. The Osakan boy paced around the edge of the room, eventually reaching the square of bookshelves directly behind the desk that held Yuusaku's miniature library-within-a-library. "Hey, are these Braille?"

"Yeah…" Shinichi's arms crossed of their own accord. "They're my dad's."

"Oh." Hattori had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry, I should've realized. I'm a fan of your dad's mysteries, but they still use his original author picture on the book backs and I didn't put it together."

Shinichi shrugged. "It's fine. Now that the headlines are dead, not many people remember unless they've met him at a book signing."

Yuusaku didn't do as many book signings as he used to, but the blackout sunglasses were distinctive.

"I guess." Hattori smiled wryly. "I thought I was better with details than that."

Shinichi mirrored the smile. "Yeah, I know the feeling. I used to want to be a detective."

Hattori blinked, then his face lit up with a bright grin. "No way, you too? I tried to pass the DDS entrance exam twice when I was little. I still love Ellery Queen."

"Well, look around." Shinichi gestured to the surrounding walls, which were stuffed with every mystery title in the history of the genre that Yuusaku had ever found. "I grew up in mystery central. I prefer Sherlock Holmes, myself."

Hattori snorted. "Figures that you would. Your dad's protagonists are all a lot like him, even if the Night Baron is the recurring character. And just 'cause you grew up on mysteries doesn't mean you have to want to be a detective."

"Yeah, well…" Shinichi brushed his fingers across Yuusaku's Braille keyboard with a wistful smile. "I left that dream behind when I was eleven."

Leaning against the desk, Hattori's eyes narrowed. "Your dad. A Supe was responsible for blinding him?"

Shinichi hesitated. He'd never told anyone — not even Yahiko or Kenshin — exactly what he was looking for as a Hunter. But this was Hattori… He'd understand, right?

He looked up. Hattori waited patiently, not so much as raising an eyebrow in further inquiry.

"A basilisk," Shinichi blurted before he could argue himself out of confirming Heiji's deduction. "Used to be a friend of my mother's, turned out to be involved in some really nasty stuff. I don't know the whole story, but I know she was the one responsible."

In truth, he only know that much because he'd eavesdropped on a few conversations his parents had never intended him to hear, but they'd never forbidden him to listen in…

"Hell, that's rough. So you switched to become a Hunter for information sources, right? Private detectives can't access the Hub."

"Yeah. And so that, if I find her… maybe I can convince her to let him go. But if not, there's only one way to undo a basilisk's hold…"

A basilisk's hypnotic suggestion was of psychic nature, and no recorded human level of psychic ability was sufficient to undo its effects. However, since it merely interrupted the processing relays rather than damaging the body, the interrupt could theoretically be removed if its source was destroyed.

"…Yeah. That's got to suck." Hattori paused. "Does Kenshin-sensei know?"

Shinichi looked back down at the Braille keyboard. "It hasn't come up. If it comes to that…" He steeled himself. "I'll take the disappointment."

"Mmm. I hear that."

Surprised at the easy agreement, Shinichi glanced back at Hattori. The younger boy had tilted his head back, gazing up through the domed skylight at the night sky.

"Hopefully it won't," he sighed. But this was dad… and who knew how many other people she'd hurt?

"But you aren't counting on it."

The raised dots on the computer keys were familiar beneath Shinichi's fingers. He'd learned to read it along with Yuusaku… there was no telling when it might be useful. "I gave up believing in miracles when I was eleven."

"Mmm." Hattori sighed and let his head fall forward, rubbing the back of his neck. "I gave up believin' when I was eight."

Hell.

Shinichi cocked his head, waiting to see if Hattori would say any more but not wanting to demand anything. After a minute Hattori looked up and gave Shinichi a bittersweet smile.

"You know Toyama-han, the guy at dinner at my house? His daughter was my best friend. I lost her to naga when I was eight. I'm still looking for the bastards who did it, but you know how naga are."

"Secretive as hell, yeah." Shinichi hadn't had much dealing with naga before, but he'd stories off and on the Hub. "…Maybe we could help each other look?"

It was a lot more than just occasionally working together. But Hattori said they were friends, and that was the kind of thing friends did… He was rewarded with Hattori giving him a much more cheerful smile.

"Sounds good. I'm looking for the Shima-hebi clan."

Shinichi nodded. "Okay, I'll keep an eye out. The basilisk I'm looking for is female, but she's shed her skin, so I don't know what she looks like now besides probably blonde." He gritted his teeth briefly in frustration at the sheer dearth of information he had, then added, "Oh, and she used to go by the name Sharon Vineyard."

End.

And the plotbunnies chorus: "Dun dun dun!"

Glossary:

Basilisk: A snake species of generally poor reputation, due to possessing a hypnotic gaze with no known methods of avoidance or recovery, and a neurotoxic venom that kills through lung paralysis. Basilisk clans are small, due to children being rare, but they have long lifespans. Unlike naga, basilisks have no mid-form but can shed their skin at will, youthening their appearance. The two races can be differentiated by the basilisk's crown-like Sagittal crest and thinner diameter. Basilisk venom fetches a high price on the black market for being an effective poison, and for the fact that trace amounts of venom can help combat vampiric conversion.

Chou-han: A traditional Japanese dice game, where a dealer rolls two dice and players bet on whether the outcome is odd (chou) or even (han).

DDS: Dan Detective School, the premiere private detective school in Japan. See A Little Fall of Rain for more information.

Engawa: The raised wooden veranda that runs along the outside of a traditional-style house. Previously known as nure'en.

Hunter: Semi-official retainers of law enforcement agencies worldwide, who specialize in bounty-hunting criminals of the Clans at all levels of offense. Licensure is regulated and must be maintained after passing the initial exam. Hunters are predominately Human, but also include any number of Clan. See Exordium for more information.

The Hub: The Hunter's forum within the larger Law Enforcement network and a prime source of information. Only Hunters have access to the Hub, which includes information on wanted criminals, Clan demographics, police records, and other valuable information.

Naga: Half-snake, half-humanoid creatures with the ability to shift fully into either form and wield fire. Naga are extremely private: showing non-nest members the mid-form is a major demonstration of vulnerability and affection; the Nest's clan name is not given out unless absolutely necessary; and only Nest-members are supposed to know where nests are located. Much of what we know about naga was learned from adolescent members in the middle of their Away Year from the Nest, which is an adulthood ritual across the species.

Oni: Humanoid Clan, usually around nine feet tall. Common traits include horns, claws, fangs, superhuman strength, and a penchant for meat; half-blood children tend to only inherit the latter two. Despite a frightening reputation, particularly among human children, most are not evil or vicious.

Supe: An insulting epithet used towards anyone with Clan blood. Short for Supernatural.