ヽ(*´∀`)ﾉ┌┛
At the table, Ran pored over legal papers and guidelines, her father next to her. He really was serious about adopting Conan. Now that she thought about it, he hadn't had a drop of alcohol over a week, and he stopped smoking, too. The office was cleaner than it had been in years, and those parenting books on his desk didn't have a speck of dust on them. In fact, they looked well-used despite being brand new from the library.
On top of it all, her father had begun renovating the large storage room upstairs, equipping it with a proper bed, a dresser, and a bookshelf. He moved the cleaning supplies and food storage that was in there to the bathroom and to the kitchen pantry.
Conan's new room was just a little smaller than Ran's, but it also had a trapdoor to the roof. Both Ran and her dad knew Conan would like that. More than a few times, they caught him sneaking through the storage room to get some air in the middle of the night. Conan seemed to like the open air, especially at night (especially after KID heists). If they found him there, he would be staring up at something in the sky, or he'd be at the edge of the roof, staring at the ground below.
A month or so after he came to live with them, he scared Ran once by sitting on the edge, staring at the ground like he was going to jump. Ran was never sure why she'd had that thought, but she called out to him.
"Conan-kun, come away from the edge. It's dangerous," she'd said, stepping towards him.
He turned around with a smile too big to be real. "Don't worry, Ran-neechan. I'd never jump." Her heart skipped a beat as he echoed her fears. Sliding off the ledge, he'd come to her and taken her hand. His smile softened, and Ran picked him up into her arms, holding him tight.
"Don't scare me like that," she whispered. "Let's go back to bed."
He nodded his little head in assent, and they never spoke of that night to anyone.
He never spoke of suicide unless it was in a case, and then he would mention at home how selfish suicide was in the bitterest of voices. Ran privately hoped that with her dad's new initiative to take care of Conan, they could get Conan into some therapy. Whatever his life had been before left scars too deep for anyone to see clearly, Ran knew Conan and she knew he needed help.
She riffled through the papers. "Tou-san, I think that's everything. We just need consent from Conan-kun and his parents."
"And we need a lawyer to officially fight for custody of him. Eri won't do it. She's still furious with me." Her dad rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. "I've got an old friend from when I worked in the force, Anzai. He's coming by tomorrow for a few hours to help finalize all the papers."
Ran's phone, sitting on the table, buzzed. She checked it and sat up straighter. "Oh my gosh!" Her hands clapped over her mouth. Picking up her phone with one hand, she read over the text again. "Oh my gosh," she breathed incredulously.
"What is it?" Her dad leaned over to see what was on her screen.
She showed him the message from Conan. "Conan-kun's coming home tonight! He says his flight lands in twenty minutes!"
I'm coming home! Can you come to the airport in twenty minutes? Agasa-hakase can't. I wanted to surprise you
"No kidding." Looking at the papers scattered across the table, his brow furrowing, he nodded, jaw set in deliberation. "The airport's not too far away. If we clean all this up quickly, then we should be able to make it." He started pulling the papers into a pile.
Ran pushed papers together into a stack hesitantly. "But why do we have to put it away? We need Conan-kun's consent," she said.
Her dad pursed his lips, his mustache forming a straight line. "I don't know if we really can adopt him yet, and I don't want to let him down. We're not going to tell him anything. Not until we know it's possible."
Ran stopped what she was doing. "Tou-san, this is Conan-kun we're talking about. He's going to know something's up. And what are we going to do about your friend coming tomorrow?"
"Take him out of the house." Her dad took the stack of papers in front of Ran and added it to his own. "You mentioned that new ice cream place you and Kuroha-kun went to? You can take the kid there." He nodded to the coat rack. "Grab your coat. We'll grab a cab to go and get him."
She stood and got her coat and her dad's. "I'll ask Hikaru to come with us. If he's there, we'll already have a policeman on site when we run into a murder," Ran said, only half joking.
Her dad took the papers and put them away in a Manilla folder. Crossing the room, he tucked the folder between two thick books in the bookshelf. "That's where they are." He stared at them for a moment. "The adoption papers."
Ran nodded silently. It was surreal to think that finally, Conan would be her brother. No longer Edogawa Conan, but Mouri Conan.
Mouri Conan. She repeated the name in her head. Foreign but not necessarily bad, it felt like her first day of high school. Her stomach churning with an energizing mix of butterflies and excitement, she both couldn't wait for the day of adoption to come and had some deep sense of dread towards the event (after all, if Shinichi really was Conan, he'd become her little brother, and that was all kinds of wrong). It all felt like some dream she didn't want to wake from but was too afraid to let it continue. Time, however, moved on, so there was nothing she could do but look forward with optimism.
Taking his coat from her, he opened the door for her. "Come on. Let's go get the freeloader."
(⌐▨_▨) ┐( ˘_˘)┌
The parking garage was lackluster and dull, dimly lit with little to do. Agasa fell asleep half an hour ago, but Conan and Ai sat in relative silence, neither willing or mentally capable of initiating small talk.
Ping! went Conan's phone. Shinichi's died sometime during the plane ride, and he didn't have a charger on him. Conan (restored to his diminutive height), checked his phone and quirked an eyebrow. He frowned inquisitively and typed a quick response as Ai looked on curiously. "Who's that?" she asked.
"Ran," he answered dismissively. "Says we're going to ice cream tomorrow with her friend Hikaru." He spared her a glance. "We don't have a Hikaru in our class, and she's never mentioned him or her before."
Ai looked over his shoulder at the conversation. Who's Hikaru? he'd asked Ran. "Can't say I know who it is. I've been holed up in the basement for the past week." She took the opportunity to shoot him a withering stare, but he barely noticed.
Ran responded, and Conan scanned the text with a information-hungry gaze. "She says he's Kuroha Hikaru. I've met him before, apparently." He squinted. "'When Tsuki-Yomi has a full belly?'" He only thought on it for a moment. "During full moons," he realized. "But who—? Oh." Conan smirked and typed up a response: Tell KID-san I'll only go with him if he promises to leave my ice cream alone.
"Kuroba Hikaru?" Ai asked. "I thought it was Kaito," she said to herself, a little frown settling on her mouth.
Conan gave her a strange look. "Haibara. Kuroha Hikaru is kaitou KID."
She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. "That's not what I mean. Kuroba Kaito—"
He huffed out a breath, a little more than annoyed. "Yeah. This Kuroba person is a kaitou. How many more times are we going to go over this?"
Ai fixed him with a look and he clamped his mouth shut. "I did research in other fields of study as I worked on the apotoxin, and one of them involved the first Kaitou KID. We— They— knew who he really was. When he didn't comply with Their demands, They tried to kill him," she said plainly. "He had a son. Kuroba Kaito."
Conan put away his phone. "I doubt the current KID is him. If he really were this Kuroba Kaito, then he wouldn't use a pseudonym so close to his own. That's idiotic."
Ai lifted an eyebrow. "Magicians such as KID are masters of misdirection. And haven't you heard of hiding in plain sight?"
He still wasn't convinced. "But why get close to Ran? He has his own ways of contacting me." His face twisted into two parts chagrined, one part amused. "Most of which involve glitter or doves."
"Who knows? You can ask him yourself tomorrow." Ai yawned, large and wide. "I'm going to sleep. There's a backpack in the back with all your gadgets. You need some sort of luggage."
He looked at his watch. "I'll go wait for them at baggage claim. Thanks for your help, Haibara."
"No problem," she murmured, already curled up against the car door. "Anything for my partner." He was almost out of the car, but he looked over his shoulder, concerned.
"Uh, Haibara?" His voice cracked with the bit of fear and embarrassment that hung in the air.
She opened one eye. "Just go home," she ordered drowsily. To her relief (and to the relief of her dignity), he obeyed without further question. Ai snuggled into the car seat. It had been a long two weeks without Edogawa Conan. At last, it was finally over.
From a lofty apartment, Cachaça had a perfect view of the city below. He watched the ebb and flow of people and cars below like… no, not insects. Those metaphors were so overused they bordered on cliche, he mused with a derogative snort. Only those with little imagination would dare compare something as neon and polluted as a city to a beehive or anthill. It belittled the magnificence of such natural beauties and designs of everlasting brilliance to say that a city was like them. A beehive was unified in purpose and in mind. Build the hive, feed the hive, protect the hive. No jealousy, no rebellions, just plain and simple efficiency.
It was such a shame how flawed humans were. They had such potential, and some (too few, unfortunately) utilized it, creating cities, raising beautiful families, establishing companies, well-oiled machines of productivity. Other acted on impulse, their most carnal desires, claiming revenge and love as their motivators (messy emotions that never ended well), creating unpleasant situations like the one Cachaça found himself in.
Knock, knock . A tentative hand tapped on the heavy door, and Cachaça drew a breath into his lungs, turning from the masses below. "Enter." He glided over to the couch and lowered himself into the most comfortable spot. Next to him stood a glass table and on it a tray. In a simple crystal bottle, his favorite cocktail glistened a rich caramel color, two clean glasses upside down next to it on the tray. Half an orange and an ice bucket to complete the set, Cachaça poured himself a glass of Rabo-de-Galo on the rocks. His visitor entered as he added a spritz of orange juice, and Cachaça took a long drink of his blissful alcohol.
"Sir?"
Cachaça glared at his (in)subordinate over the edge of his glass. "Toshima. Have a seat." Toshima looked helplessly at the couch Cachaça sprawled himself across. With a groan, Cachaça pointed to the armchair across from him. "There. Sit. I don't have all day."
Toshima hastily sat in the chair, wiping sweaty palms on his suit pants. He undid his suit jacket and licked his lips nervously. "Sir? You wanted to see me?"
Cachaça sat up, setting his glass down carefully. It was already half empty. "Yes." He narrowed his eyes at Toshima. "The Hayashi incident."
"Th-that wasn't me," sputtered Toshima, but Cachaça rose to his feet and sighed.
"I have given you so much freedom with your current assignment. So much." He stalked across the room, turning his back on Toshima. "And yet, I find myself caught between protecting you," he cast an evil eye over his shoulder, "and obeying my superiors."
Toshima was on the edge of his seat, desperately pushing excuses at Cachaça like they were the only thing keeping him alive (they were). "Sir, I wasn't even in Osaka. Ask anyone at my assignment, any one of them will tell you I was at the office. I couldn't have killed her. I was in Tokyo, please, sir—"
"SHUT UP!" roared Cachaça. Toshima jumped like a startled rabbit and shrank back into his seat. Clearing his throat, Cachaça spun around and smiled at Toshima. "Let me give it to you simply: they are looking for a scapegoat. I can pin this on one of three people, yourself included," he explained slowly, all smiles. "Prove your worth, and my decision will become that much easier."
Toshima swallowed and raised a shaking hand.
"Keep it short," Cachaça ordered.
"Sir, I've been on the Kuroha assignment for months, and work is slow. I only have circumstantial evidence at best. I can't—"
Cachaça groaned. "Too long." Pivoting on his heel, he marched to the glass table and finished his drink in one gulp. It slammed onto the table with a thunk, leaving a glass-shaped dent in the metal tray. Toshima flinched again. "You want to know what that sounds like to me, Toshima? It sounds like excuses," he snarled.
"But sir, the Kuroha assignment is priority—"
"Ah-ah-ah." Cachaça shook his head, wagging a finger. "I created the Kuroha assignment. I know exactly what priority it is. Don't try and school me." He narrowed his eyes, gears churning in his mind. Toshima is a valuable asset. Vital to the endgame. He still can serve his purpose, if only a few variables get out of the way. Reconfigurating timelines and adjusting minute details, a new plan with Toshima as the linchpin began to form.
It's risky. It could easily all go downhill. Cachaça dragged a hand down his face. But it works. It works so much better than the first plan.
Cachaça licked his lips, stared at the ceiling. "You know what? End him."
Toshima's eyebrows furrowed into a black, furry little caterpillar. "Sir?"
"End Kuroha. Kill him." Cachaça nodded, slowly at first but faster as the plan became feasible with each passing moment. "It has to be perfect. I need you on my side, so I'll give you Amburana. She'll be your right hand to finish the Kuroha assignment. We know he's KID. If we can't prove it, so be it." He posed like KID, then pantomimed bullets hitting him in the chest. He staggered and fell onto the couch, grinning like a maniac (he was one). "Kill him and be done with it. Kaitou KID has been a thorn in our side for far too long, and you have not been utilized to your full potential because of that damned assignment."
Sitting up just a little taller, clarity washed away the confusion on Toshima's face, making way for wide-eyed eagerness. Cachaça might as well have given Toshima a blank check with his name on it. "You mean it, sir? You mean—"
Cachaça leapt to his feet. "Oh, I do. I'll have everything prepared for you. Amburana will bring you the details tomorrow. That's when you'll strike."
Rising to his feet, Toshima cracked his knuckles. "Sir, you won't want to be there yourself?"
Placing a friendly hand on Toshima's shoulder, Cachaça chuckled. "I admire your enthusiasm, but I have many matters to deal with." Grinning, he spun Toshima to face the door and pushed him away. "Go! Amburana will find you soon."
Toshima laughed, turning and bowing to Cachaça. "Thank you, sir! I won't forget this!" A little skip in his step, Toshima left the room with one final, "Thank you!"
The door clicked closed and the facade fell like a suicidal man from a bridge. Cracking his neck, Cachaça took his phone from his pocket and speed-dialed Amburana.
"It's me. The timetable's moving up."
He explained the plan.
She sighed his name with the utmost disbelief. "You think this will work?"
"Come on, Ana. When have I failed you before?" he asked, smoothing his jacket. "Besides, even if we fail, Mother won't. It will only further her plans. It's a win-win."
"Except if we fail, you die," she said harshly. "I don't care about your plans. You can't die on us. Prata and I—"
"Hold high value in the eyes of my mother. If I get killed, she will surely take you under her wing," assured the man in black. "Don't worry about a thing. I'm counting on you~!" he sing-songed before hanging up.
(￣ー￣)ゞ
On top of all his papers, Juzou found a release form for Toshima Kotaro, just above the one for Kuroha Hikaru. Toshima and Kuroha had been joined at the hip since Kuroha had transferred a month or two ago, thick as thieves. Those two could drink the night away if they wanted, he thought with no small amount of irritation. No doubt they're coming into work hungover tomorrow. Again.
He checked their workload and unfinished assignments, and to his disappointment, both men completed every assignment they had been assigned.
"I am going to regret this," mumbled a disgruntled Juzou. He signed off on both of their release requests and sat back in his chair. "I am going to regret this very much."