┐( ˘_˘)┌

With steady hands, Ai carefully filled a small syringe with Kudou's blood. Absently, she thought that he wasn't really Kudou, his body being about three to five years younger than his mental age. The boy lying before her wasn't quite Edogawa at the moment, either, so she settled on using his older name.

The fact of the matter was this: Kudou was neither of the ages he should be. His regression to an elementary schooler had stopped midway, leaving him as a pale, sickly, pre-pubescent boy. His face had yet to grow taller, to mature into Kudou's true face. It still held some of the child like innocence he liked to exploit as a six-year-old, but a hint of his not-at-all-a-kid's snarkiness hovered around the edges of his eyes, the corners of his mouth, and in the faint creases in his brow.

Ai messed up. She created an antidote and tested it herself, skewing the data. She had no way to know which part of her data was wrong. The data from her intentional transformation and Kudou's accidental one was splayed out across the guest room floor. None of the data matched up— not between herself and Kudou, not between Kudou's theoretical and actual data, and definitely not between his data and a normal teenager's.

It would all be fine if she could simply pinpoint where she had gone wrong. The problem lay in the fact that there were too many sources of error. She could only guess how much Paikaru he'd ingested. Overestimating that amount would lead to overestimating how much time he had at his full height, and vice versa for underestimating. Luckily, she'd been within an hour of his actual time— he'd gotten five hours instead of six. While the percent error was astronomically higher than she wanted, it was acceptable. Because Ai had left a spare antidote pill with Kudou, she could safely render the Paikaru a moot point.

With the second antidote pill came a whole other can of worms. According to the Osaka boy, Kudou had lasted about four more hours before he was reduced to...this. Ai had calculated that Kudou would have almost a day. Obviously, there's a bit of difference between the two (over eighty percent error, supplied the voice in the back of Ai's head). She searched every piece of data for hours at a time, combed through her notes, looked for any miscalculation. Her math was clean— she had the professor check it over, and he found nothing.

Something had to be wrong, though. She had a list of every possible factor, ranging from what food Kudou ate to any physical exertion he'd been through. Over two pages long, she narrowed down the list of factors by extensively interrogating Hattori-kun. He eliminated the more obscure factors, but that still left half the list.

In short, Ai had no idea what caused Kudou to not be Edogawa. It could be sleep deprivation, a lack of nourishment, high stress levels, or even a byproduct of his cold. She had no way of knowing and likely never would. There were too many factors, and Ai was not willing to conduct another test just to satisfy her scientific interests.

A movement downstairs made Ai flinch. Lost in thought, she'd forgotten that other people were in the house. Sorting through the papers again, she put a milliliter of Kudou's blood each in three different test tubes.

Downstairs, the Osaka boy, his mother, and his girlfriend waited for Ai to come back down. They trusted her to give them an accurate assessment of Kudou's condition. Judging by the slam of the front door, Hattori Heizo had just come home. Ai was grateful that Hattori-kun had stayed downstairs. He'd take the brunt of any arguing, keeping his father away from upstairs until she was finished.

Another twinge of irritation made her hand twitch as she carefully wrote out observations of Kudou's condition. In less than twenty-four hours, four more people discovered that Kudou Shinichi was Edogawa Conan. For nearly a year, she and Kudou kept their mutual secret safe with lies and tricks and manipulation only to have it all come crashing down in one night.

It was most of the reason she'd so thoroughly investigated his 'accidental' incomplete reversion. It couldn't be just an accident. Accidents were dangerous. An accident forced Kudou to pretend he was less than half his age. An accident allowed Shiho to live. An accident got Akemi killed.

Shiho was still her name, given to her by a mother she hardly knew. She never wanted to truly be rid of it. Discarding the name tainted with blood would mean throwing away a name picked out with love, a hope for a future filled with anything but darkness. Forsaking that name would mean forsaking the last piece of Miyano Elena left in this world.

But days like today, when everything Ai (Shiho) did just wasn't enough, when accidents and coincidences kept lining up in the worst ways possible, when suddenly everything she tried so hard keep together all fell apart at once and no one, not even the professor, could do anything to help and by the heavens, these were the kind of days that made her wish she was dead. Shiho wished that she could've only ever been Shiho, that Haibara Ai never remembered anything from the organization. Days like these made her wish that the apotoxin caused amnesia, too.

Life would be amazing. Ai could go out and eat at a fancy restaurant with Yoshida-san or return those little giddy looks Tsubaraya-kun tried in vain to hide. She could go out on a street alone and never worry about being killed by one of Them— heck, Haibara Ai wouldn't even know They existed. She could live a life with no paranoia, odd amounts of chemical knowledge, or worry about d*** detectives being impulsive. She'd be free.

Ai (Shiho was still in there somewhere) rarely entertained such a fantasy. She had people in her life to protect. Kudou was the worst— he could be almost as bad as Hattori-kun when he wanted to be. Impulsive, perceptive, considering the risks for barely a moment before running headfirst into the pits of Purgatory. But he was her responsibility. She cleaned up a lot of his messes and covered for a lot of his slip-ups. Admittedly, some of the close calls she got him out of were of her own creation, but that was beside the point. He became her problem the day the universe let him live. He became her responsibility the day the poison forgot to kill her.

She could get rid of her memories as easily as she could create a permanent antidote. Give a master chemist the right formula, and the rest is simple. She couldn't, wouldn't seek out a way to erase her memories. Sherry haunted her like Akemi's ghost. Erasing Sherry was erasing Akemi-both were integral parts of Shiho's life. The only way to honor Akemi's memory, the only way to pay for all the deaths she caused was to live out this second chance. She needed to live this paranoia-riddled, thick-with-lies, no-real-attachments-allowed, trapped-in-a-minefield-with-no-way-out life and survive.

An American proverb came to mind: Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. Ai looked at Kudou. At the bare minimum, Agasa, Kudou, and herself made up three people. Five other people knew Kudou's secret. Five more variables. Five more liabilities.

She set down the syringe and sat down cross-legged next to the centrifuge. "Kudou-kun, how exactly are we supposed to escape this alive?"

He gave no answer. By her calculations, he wouldn't answer to anything for a long time.

‾͟͟͞(((ꎤˋ⁻̫ˊ)—̳͟͞͞o (つ･･)つ¤=[]::::::

(ง'̀-'́)ง

Heizo slammed the door behind him when he entered his house. It wasn't because of work. In fact, he'd been quite content until he left early for a "family emergency." Mundane tasks, three different meetings, and a spat between two of the newer officers kept his mind off what awaited him when he got home. Only after climbing into his car did he remember the visitor upstairs and that 'little nee-chan' Heiji mentioned.

Even as he tried to explain why Kudou had lost five years off his life, Heiji kept a lot of information from his parents. When either of them tried to press for more details, Heiji's response was the same every time: "It's not my secret to tell." Heiji revealed enough about "the little nee-chan" to lodge a lump of discomfort in the back of Heizo's throat. If the girl, paranoid as she seemed, showed up while Heizo was at work, he assumed she wouldn't take kindly to him barging in upstairs. If she expected the intrusion, she might be a bit more willing to explain what the devil was going on around here.

So, Heizo slammed the door behind him to announce to the entire vicinity his arrival. On the bright side, it worked. Heiji jumped like someone poked him in the side. Motionless in her chair, Shizuka watched him carefully for signs of anger, relaxing only when he set down his bag quietly.

"Ya're home early," commented Shizuka hesitantly.

Heizo nodded. "Officially, I'm off on a family emergency. Ya remember the serial killer Kudou-kun helped catch last week?" he directed the question to Heiji who nodded stiffly in response. "She escaped in transit. Last seen in Osaka, she's fallen inta my jurisdiction. Because she escaped with little resistance, Matsumoto-san an' I are not rulin' out the possibility of a mole in our system. All the information for the case is being delivered tonight ta our house."

Heiji perked up. "It's all comin' here? Does that mean I can look at the papers?"

The corners of Heizo's mouth twitched into almost a smile. "You must keep them in proper order, an' if anythin' is reported missin', it will fall on your head," he cautioned. "But yes. You may look at the case. I suspect it will get your mind off Kudou-kun."

Heizo hung up his coat, slipped off his shoes. "Speaking of our guest upstairs, has that girl arrived yet?"

Heiji's mouth twisted into a frown. "Yeah, she's been up there for a few hours. Hasn't come down this whole time."

A brief glance at his watch (Matsumoto's men would be arriving soon), and Heizo started towards the stairs. "I'll greet her."

"Oyaji." Heizo stopped in his tracks, meeting the eyes of his son. Heiji didn't blink, didn't quirk a smile, didn't budge an inch. "If ya value your life, don't go up there."

Heiji, to many, seemed to take very little seriously. He messed around about Kudou-kun, teased Kazuha day and night, but he never joked about dreams, and he never joked about someone's life. His heart pounding in his ears, Heizo slowly backpedaled and sat next to Shizuka.

"How is this girl connected ta Kudou-kun?" he asked, his permanent scowl deepening.

Heiji shifted in his seat, exchanged an uneasy glance with Shizuka. "I can't tell ya," he said.

"Ya can at least tell me her name." Heiji shook his head, and Heizo clenched his hands into fists. "Heiji, I don't appreciate strangers coming inta my house left an' right. If ya don't want me goin' up ta meet her, tell me who this girl is."

"Look, she's in the same boat as Kudou. They're on the same case." He looked at the ground. "I can't say much else. The little nee-chan's real nervous 'bout tellin' people things, but she'll want ta be the one ta tell ya."

Contrary to his initial fears, Heiji didn't need to tell Kazuha and his parents everything. His dad deduced on his own that Kudou was Conan, and Heiji told Kazuha's dad just enough to keep him from taking Kudou to the hospital. Agasa-hakase brought over some medical supplies to keep Kudou alive, and all Heiji had to do was explain that the professor already knew about Kudou. All that Heiji had told the others was that Kudou shrank because of his case, other people knew, and knowing anything more was dangerous. He couldn't avoid his parents' questioning forever, though. His dad was the Superintendent of the Osaka police for a reason.

Kazuha walked in from down the hall. "Ah, konbanwa, occhan."

"Kazuha-chan. Hello." Heizo glanced at his watch again. They should be here by now. "How has school been for ya lately?"

Kazuha sat next to Heiji. "It's been goin' alright." She didn't miss the sag in Heiji's shoulders, the tension thick in the air. I go to the bathroom for five minutes, and this all happens, she thought wearily. Her entrance was well-timed. Heizo's change of topic was clumsy, but it seemed to alleviate some of the unease in the room. "We've got an essay due next week for history class, an' I've barely started…"

To Heiji's relief, Kazuha talked with his parents for a while. School, aikido, the latest gossip at school— anything but Kudou. His mom drove most of the conversation while he and his dad sat back, listened to the girls get carried away. It wasn't until someone knocked at the door that Heizo stood up again.

Heiji watched his father closely as he walked to the front door, opening it to a pair of officers. They bowed in greeting and passed off a thick binder. Heizo exchanged a few words with the officers before they left. Closing the door, Heizo brought the binder back to the living room.

Heiji perked up, scooting to the edge of his seat. "Is that it?"

Heizo handed Heiji the binder. "If anythin' goes missin', you will be held accountable."

Heiji nodded, cracking open the binder with unconcealed delight. Inside lay eight manila folders, each labeled with a name and number. Victim, order they were found, supplied a small sticky note. Behind the manila folders was a sheet with a sketch of a woman's face, and a photo. Both were labeled 'Hayashi Chika, Wanted for Multiple Accounts of First Degree Murder.'

Heiji flipped open the first manila folder (Yama Takeshi, One) to find a detailed report of the scene, the location of the scene on a map, and a few scribbled speculations about the victim's connection to Hayashi. He skimmed over the report, drinking in the scent of a mystery. The victim had been malnourished when he died, and the drugs in his system suggested he was put to sleep before being burned. Heiji looked through the other files and found that each of the victims were similarly drugged, but the degree of malnourishment was different. The fourth victim, found five days after the first, had eaten a protein bar before he died, but the fifth, found the same day, hadn't eaten for days.

Hayashi admitted only to killing the eight men and nothing more. She didn't put up a fight when she was arrested, but she escaped while being transported to the station. The Tokyo police found no connection between Hayashi and any of the victims, and the only connection between the victims was that they were polite, young, and Japanese. Aside from that, it seemed almost like an indiscriminate killing. Each of the corpses had been burned to about the same degree, with the same setup each time- tied to a stake, with odd markings around their feet. The crime scene locations were random at first, but, once the seventh victim was found, a pattern began forming. It helped to catch her before someone else died. Her hideout was a warehouse in the center of the three triangles. When the police arrived, they found a shrine to the devil and disturbing pictures of a figure in red murdering others in various ways.

She'd been seen last at a train station in Osaka. Employees at the station said that she had taken the train here and gotten off. No one saw her get on another train, but a taxi driver said he saw her take the bus somewhere. Unfortunately, tracking that lead proved inconclusive.

By the time he'd read through the crime scene reports, Ai quietly came down the stairs, small feet barely making a sound.

"I've finished analyzing Kudou-kun," she announced. Careful not to meet anyone's eyes, she stood far from all of them at the bottom of the stairs. She clenched a stack of papers in one hand, the other forcibly stiff at her side. She glanced to the two adjoining hallways for an escape route, legs trembling with a sickening anticipation.

Heiji looked up from the case file. "Haibara-san. The house is clean, so ya don't need ta worry 'bout bugs or anythin'," he said. Heizo frowned at his son. When did he have time to look? He was supposed to be at school all day. Heizo's lack of knowledge began to chip away at his patience. "How's Kudou?"

Focusing on the Osaka boy helped. By lasering at him, she didn't have to focus on the others. "Alive," she answered dryly. "And he's likely to wake up within the next few days. To be honest, I have no idea why he didn't shrink the entire way."

She walked over to Heiji, making a point to nod to his parents. "I can only guess at why he is still unconscious. The last time he became Kudou Shinichi with a similar method, he said he was asleep for three days. He did not need hospitalization then and taking him to hospital while he is in such a condition would put his life at risk, as well as mine. Thank you for keeping him here."

"It's no problem," Shizuka said with an incline of her head.

At last, his patience wore out. "Who exactly are ya?" asked Heizo, shoulders squared. "Ya're not five years old."

Ai smirked. "Of course not. I'm an eight-four-year-old woman."

Heiji rolled his eyes. "She's my age," he told his parents. "She's like Kudou."

"Haibara Ai isn't your real name," Kazuha said, almost a question.

Ai made an odd face at that- almost a smile, not quite a frown. "It's the only one I respond to now. Unlike Kudou-kun, there is nothing left for me in my old life." She gave Kazuha a soft smile. "You may continue to call me by my first name. It would raise suspicion if you suddenly stopped."

The kindness vanished beneath an icy apathy that bordered on malicious. She looked sharply at Heizo and Shizuka. "What has Hattori-kun told you? The case Kudou-kun and I are involved in is dangerous. Knowing a case even exists is grounds for murder, according to Them. Any information I do not have to repeat will simplify things."

"Well, ya basically jus' said all of it." Kazuha shrugged. "Ta Heiji's credit, he didn't tell us much. Shinichi-kun's involved in a case, an' so are you. The case is dangerous, and knowin' too much gets ya killed." She said it all with a surprisingly level tone. "In all honesty, I've tried not ta overthink it. It's scary as all h***, though," she admitted with a shiver.

Ai smiled sympathetically. "Yes. It is not comforting, but know that acting normal will keep you off Their radar. I have survived by acting as a somewhat normal six year old." she glanced at Heiji. "And, for the record, I am a year older than you."

Heizo was not yet satisfied. "Who are 'they?' How're ya involved with Kudou-kun?"

She turned to Heizo. "Kudou-kun refers to them as the Black Organization. They are a crime syndicate that spans across the world. We have ties in Japan, America, England, and a branch in southern Russia. Even I do not know the exact goals of the Organization. They employed my parents when I was very young and began training me from then on. I was a chemist for them until they killed my sister."

"Ya're a part of this Organization?" Heizo said, almost a threat.

She shook her head. "I was. My codename was Sherry. You will not repeat that to anyone if you value your family's lives." Heizo nodded, his knuckles going white as he curled his hands into fists. "I created the poison that turned Kudou-kun into Edogawa Conan. When I learned they killed my sister, I rebelled. They wanted to kill me, but I escaped by taking my own poison. I intended to join my sister in death. Fate had other ideas. I shrank to this size and have lived with Agasa-hakase since. Those in the Organization had orders to kill me until Kudou-kun, with the help of a phantom thief, faked my death."

Heizo took deep breaths. "This... Organization. Why hasn't the police targeted them yet?"

"Like I said— knowing that the organization exists is dangerous. Kudou-kun knew of it and has nearly gotten himself killed many times in pursuit of them."

"Then...why're ya tellin' us 'bout all this? Wouldn't it be better if we didn't know at all?" Kazuha glanced at the others as if searching them for an answer.

"Knowing the organization exists is dangerous," repeated Ai, "if you don't know that it is dangerous. Openly pursuing them is suicide, and to do so subtly, as Kudou-kun does, is to court death itself. You do not need to pursue these criminals. They have no reason to go after you. Act normally, and do not pursue them, because your life depends on it."

Shizuka jumped to her feet. "On that note," she said with forced cheer. "Haibara-chan, will ya stay for dinner? It's late, an' I don't want ta send ya all the way back ta Tokyo on an empty stomach."

The mood shift shook Ai's cold demeanor. "N-no thank you. Hakase and I are staying at a nearby hotel. I already called him to pick me up."

"But ya haven't eaten a thing since ya got here. Come, I'll get ya a snack. How do ya feel about sandwiches?" She took Ai's hand and led her to the kitchen.

Ai smiled tentatively. "Do you happen to have peanut butter and blueberry jam?"

(つ･･)つ¤=[]::::::

Otaki was in his dream.

Arms tied behind his back, he was kept upright by a pole under his arms. Dried blood ran down the back of his neck and was caked onto his head. His cheekbones stood out on a once-much-fuller face, dirt and grime smudged across it. His jacket wrinkled and torn to shreds in some places, his pants were in no better shape. With bags under his eyes and hopelessness etched into his very figure, the man looked as though he'd been trapped for days.

Heiji tried to walk closer, but something held him back. As if by a miracle, Otaki sensed the movement. "Hei-chan! Is that you?" A painful rasp in his voice, Heiji could feel the exhaustion. "Where are ya?"

"I'm right here," Heiji tried to respond, but his dream self refused to make a sound.

"Hei-chan? Kazuha-chan?" Otaki struggled against his restraints. Darkness coiled like thick snakes around his legs, climbing higher with each passing second. "She's coming back—we don't know who's next. Hurry, five of us are already—"

A demon, cloaked in fire, rose up behind Otaki. It grew until it blinded Heiji, towering over twelve people. Each of them blindfolded with a pile of sticks around their feet. Each tied to a pole upright like Otaki, ragged and starving and tired, struggled and cried in fear.

The demon swooped down like a hawk and consumed the people one by one until only Otaki was left. With each person gone, the screaming died down bit by bit, each life snuffed out as easily as a candle's light.

Otaki screamed as the flames consumed him.

Otaki's screams still rang in Heiji's ears when he woke, sweat drenching his back, the image of a devil burned into his mind.