Simmering anxiety was not a good look for Shinichi, and he knew as much. When he was a human, it was the normal fear response; dilated pupils, sweat, and general anxious snappishness and prickliness. Now, in this new and small body, Shinichi became far more literally snappish and prickly, teeth quick to bare and fur puffed with his tail lashing— a picturesque fearful cat.

His train of thought was a short loop, unpleasant and rickety, well worn by its constant repetition. She's in with Them. The ruptures spiralled out from the ground beneath the track in the form of questions; what did they know of the survival rate, what did they know of Ai's whereabouts, what did they know of any of this? The other branch of questions was all on the trustworthiness of Haibara— was that info from her?

Of course, logic fought back; he told himself that she took poison, so she wouldn't have been exactly motivated to tell them about the whole cat thing given that, and that surely they didn't know about the cat side effect because it was presumably rare (after all, the pill was used as a poison against Shinichi, and the transformation had likely been an unintentional side effect they were not aware of).

...Logic wasn't exactly good in a cage match against the distinctly anti-logic paranoia, though. Not to mention that when his life hung in the balance, it was significantly more difficult to brush aside those fears.

Unfortunately, while Haibara took the long and grueling train ride back to Tokyo from Osaka, there is nothing to do but wait. Wait, and pace.

"Are you playing?" the kittens asked, Ayumi's eyes watching his paws on his circuit of the study's floor, pressing into the velvety, opulent carpet.

As an experiment, they run a loop themselves, navigating the environment with much less grace than Shinichi, almost barrelling into the (relatively) giant table as they round the corners and shove each other aside in a gambit to be first in what quickly became a race (despite no official declaration of such, or a countdown, or anything very race-like asides from going fast).

Ultimately Mitsuhiko skidded to a stop, dragging his claws into the carpet to lurch to a halt right in front of Shinichi to avoid bowling the black, older cat over. Immediately, the younger brown-and-cream kitten rolled playfully on the ground in front of him, an askance to play, overly energetic— as the kittens tended to be, seemingly randomly (when they weren't blissfully sleeping).

That, at least, got Shinichi to roll his eyes (as best he could). This was a significantly better reaction than his inner desire of something close to instincts begging him to smack the kittens, or perhaps snap and hiss— to be left blissfully alone, to stew in irritation and paranoia and… well, those didn't sound like good thoughts. Maybe a distraction isn't so bad.

As he kept telling himself, after all, there wasn't much Shinichi could do in terms of the whole Haibara situation— and obviously, thinking about it for hours on end would only serve to make his mood worsen further. Letting kittens nip at his heels was leagues better than letting anxiety jackhammer at his delicate skull.

So yes— Shinichi made an effort to reign in his desperate, restless energy and rid it from himself in a stretch, spine and tail curved and shuddering as he kneaded the carpet with extended claws. It didn't work all too well, but he at least was able to force himself to at least look relaxed, leaving Kudo grateful that he was at least somewhat better at containing involuntary gestures that betrayed his emotions— the flick of an ear or the curl of a puffed tail allowed him to be read with almost embarrassing ease, though he was getting better at control with time. Time that he'd rather not have in this form, of course, but getting on that train of thought was a one-way ticket to more stress.

So, yes. Kudo allowed himself to be distracted; it was mindless, to romp around with the kittens, playfully batting them and rolling around on the carpet, but it still was a good distraction— and a good laugh. It was especially amusing when he pulled off something they couldn't. After all, not only did Shinichi not have the physique of a clumsy kitten, but he also had forethought to plan his jumps, as well as just a tendency to show off (rather than a spring that was singularly functional). It was all jumps in miniature (comparative to his human size, at least), but it was rigorous acrobatics at the height he was at. That was another thing Shinichi'd grown better at; as he grew more sure-footed, balance in more complicated motions also came.

In order, the kittens would whine jealously, demand to be shown the trick, then spend forever clawing up whatever part of the study Shinichi had chose to jump off of in an attempt to repeat said jump. They'd get it to some fractional degree before getting bored and disappointed, then Shinichi would show them some other thing— a daring mid-air dive from one shelf to the next, or a springing and graceful flip, and so on and so forth in terms of ors— and then the kittens would be invigorated once more and the whole process would restart.

Narratively, there is always an until. One that everyone knows is coming.

This until came when Shinichi was in the middle of attempting a speedy springboard off the wall, demonstrating to the kittens how to push themselves up ever higher, using momentum to their advantage.

Naturally, expectedly, Haibara was the "until." She gave a small cough, announcing her entrance, and it startled Kudo so bad he lost any of the speed he said was necessary while he was approaching the wall— and, just like that, he slammed head-first into it. Very much not the graceful, powerful vault he had planned.

While Kudo staggered back, head spinning— or was it the room?— an errant thought crossed his mind before he fully registered Haibara's presence. Dizzily, he felt not fear, but offense— and not even at Haibara. At the wall. The wall didn't even have the good graces to have a dent in it after he had accidentally flung himself into it, and Shinichi found himself to be vaguely upset at that.

Of course, as he shook himself off, ridding himself of those twirling spots that pricked the edge of his vision, Shinichi did process what he was supposed to be reacting to. Instantaneously, his fur puffed up as he stared at the small tabby that had no right to look so threatening— so in control, for all she had revealed to him she wasn't in control at all (for who could be, if they needed him in this state, and were in a similar state themselves?).

That didn't change the sharp, scary look in her eyes. Were Shinichi still human, the hair on the back of his neck would stand on end; as it was, it was obviously far more that was standing up.

So much for controlling body language, Shinichi snorted sardonically internally, nixing the thing he had briefly reflected on and celebrated. He couldn't bring that cockiness out, no, it was quite effectively tamped down by the stifling fear that radiated out of his very pores, shivering off his on-end fur.

Ai— Sherry— she calculatingly looked him over, as though appraising the fear she caused, proud of her intimidation. It made quite the picture; it was already kind of ridiculous, because Haibara was a solid but small cat, whereas Shinichi was a wispy, lengthy thing that was ultimately bigger (at least in terms of height and lank, though seemed roughly equal in terms of weight). A bizarre vision of him as a person cowering in front of Haibara as a cat flitted past Shinichi's hysterical brain.

Ai stepped forwards before Kudo could properly analyze how to react to that image, and he still didn't know how to verbally respond to her. Shinichi just elected to shuffle back warily, though the de-escalation of horror to some strange mix of awkwardness and fear helped smooth his fur down, which was… nice, if that was the right word for it. Better, at the least.

The kittens, at least, could sense the tension in the air. It was as though Kudo's puffed fur and tense muscles transferred to them as the trio huddled near Shinichi.

"I remind you," she informed delicately, airily, "that I need you." Her tail tics in a way Shinichi could read as thoughtful, given he's felt it on himself a great many times. Ai added, "telling them is as much a danger to me as it is to you."

Mentioning them is enough to bring a shudder down both of their small spines, fear dancing on the cord of bones.

Shinichi relented, unlocking the last of his tensed-up muscles. "Right," he breathed with a short, sardonic chuckle, letting that word carry out the last of the pent up fear. "Jeez," he griped, "do you have to be so…?" Kudo trailed off, looking for a word less childish and more encapsulating than scary.

Haibara only eyed him, and despite the blank expression, there was some amusement present in the tilt of her round ears, and the curve of her tail— and that was answer enough: no, but it is funny.

That bit of humor in her posture was enough to drain the last of the tension from Shinichi's body. The fear wasn't entirely gone, just weathered down to weariness.

She looked him up and down, this time not threateningly like before. No, this time it was more… a look of impatience, and one that held something of a vague questioning air to it. Before Kudo could ask her where that irritation had come from, she answered that unsaid askance with a query of her own— "is there anything you want from me?" It was cool, but also (oxymoronically) a bit snappish, simultaneously.

"I," he paused, considering. Did she mean now, right now, this very moment? Or rather did she mean generally— because of course he wanted all the info she had tucked and folded into her mind on them.

Shinichi didn't think she could sharpen that vaguely irritated look further, but the Ai managed.

"I will give you the info I have," she acquiesced in a tone that said obviously I will. Ai continued, "though it is less than you'd expect: I wasn't actually that high on the chain."

That made something occur to Shinichi. "How old are you?" he blurted abruptly. Haibara appeared to be on the young-ish end of cat age, relatively the same as him, but it was hard to tell if she was in those awkward cat-teens or in her prime. Either way, it was impossible to know exactly how that translated to her human age, since Shinichi only had one sample of data— that being himself.

Another analyzing look. Shinichi briefly wondered if this was what it was like to talk to him, when he constantly parsed and dissected pieces of information, and was baffled and put out by the thought.

"Older than you," was all Haibara settled on.

"That is not at all helpful," Shinichi informed her, ears flattened. Undoubtedly she knew as much, but still.

"Consider it a puzzle, then," Ai offered primly. "Either way, why don't you first let me know what progress you have made."

Shinichi's ears went down further. "Not much," he admitted begrudgingly. "They're very difficult to track," he emphasized defensively. "They wear black like crows, have alcohol theme code names, and seem to be some massive underground crime organization, given that the things I've found their hands in are deaths to cover things, computer viruses, and large, shady quantities of money," Shinichi regurgitated. "Everything you'd expect from a secretive massive crime organization," he summed up.

"Well, you've got the basics down quite nicely," Haibara huffed.

"I can't find… exact things. Just flashes of their involvement. The most precise thing I have on them is that they have the Night Baron virus," Shinichi admitted.

All the other bits of info— the code names, the dress code, the money, etcetera— were hard to get anything out of. The only time Shinichi had caught wind of their money-related schemes was the time that Akemi Miyano had died— making him more aware of the danger levied his way— and that money was successfully retrieved (which wasn't a bad thing) and thus he (and the police) had no hint as to where it was going to go. On a similar note in terms of usefulness, the dress code and alcoholic names were a decent way to recognize them and be sure it was them, but it was difficult to track them— which, admittedly, was rather the point of using code names and dressing vaguely.

Shinichi snapped himself out of the reverie in time to notice the way Haibara also seemed to snap out of a reminiscing session of her own— hers less intensely analytical, instead more weirdly, distantly depressed. "So," she mulled over, rolling the idea around on her sandpaper tongue, "a virus. That… isn't a bad lead," she admitted.

Shinichi flicked an ear. Ordinarily, he would be all for compliments— but for one, it was hard to take praise on something he had barely been able to scratch the surface of when he was normally so quick, and secondly, he was impatient. Haibara had promised him evidence of her own, after all.

Thankfully, before he had the opportunity to bluntly (read: rudely) ask for it, Ai divulged her own knowledge: "they wanted my drug as a poison, obviously," was the beginning, which had Shinichi sensibly nodding along.

And then interrupting. Immediately. Like the nosy detective he was. "Why cats, though?" It was a question that had plagued his mind since the start: who on earth would make such a strange thing?

Her eye twitched in tandem with her ear and tail, a strangely human tick in combination with the other motions. Her expression was equivalent to a growl of I was GETTING there— which she was too composed to say aloud, instead opting to slowly iterate, "well, I was testing it on rats." Well, that answered why it couldn't be the patron lab animal (outside of perhaps C Elegans, though anyone who knows that is quite the nerd). After al, you (presumably) couldn't get the poison to work the same by using rat DNA on other rats and expect an immuno-attack similar to an allergy. She paused. "And the overall goal was to simulate another human organ within the body, to get the immune system to attack itself. Using other animals was… the rough prototype." The implication was, of course, the goal to use more subtle techniques: trying to use foreign human DNA to get the system to attack itself in something more akin to organ failure than an internal allergic reaction, a far sneakier poison.

Shinichi lounged casually on the desk of the library, as though they weren't discussing something so dark and deadly. "Who would've guessed this outcome," he huffed rhetorically— for certainly, she had not. "What a poison," he mused.

Ai only dignified that with an ear flick, and likely only gave away that much because of her lack of control over the new set of ticks this body had dropped onto her shoulders (which was an apt metaphor, because her new shoulders weren't exactly meant to carry anything in the same way human shoulders could). Her face pulled into a frown— or her best approximation of one, with a muzzle in the way. "I can't give you much more concrete info than what you already have," she sighed, ignoring his sarcasms and continuing, "I worked largely in shell labs, all across the world. That's the only useful information I have."

Shinichi made a distant sound, mumbling thoughtfully, "any info is useful to comb through." He blinked, summoning more excitement— "but that by itself is… big."

Haibara fixed him with a look and shrugged. "You're underestimating how easily they disconnect the threads to themselves, even from me."

"I'm assuming you have a map," Shinichi cut in fervently, uncaring of warnings.

Haibara stared. "Of course I do." She paused. "However, much of the buildings are not owned directly by the Org," Ai made clear.

Shinichi had clearly gone into full detective mode, judging by the thoughtful air and intense drive about him. His tail was flicking frantically, as though keeping time to the tempo of his own whirling thoughts. "Presumably shell companies," he nodded along, "or off the record, in some way; deals they have with the owners, or maybe things that are so far from civilization they wouldn't be noticed or questioned."

Haibara took the fiery detective in for a moment before shrugging somewhat irately. "I wasn't involved on that upper level," she snapped, "but likely all of those." Before Kudo could tangentially mutter to himself further, the tabby cut him off harshly. "We shouldn't be trying to take them down."

That halted the frantic energy— or more accurately, paused it before giving it a new focal point: her. A singular, intense burning question of, "why?"

"They'll find us," Haibara said simply, "and kill us, or those around us."

Shinichi's ears pinned down, and his fangs flashed as he asked, "are you saying you want to let them go?" He continued on a rant— "given our situation, there's no better way for us to hide!" It wasn't that he wanted this cat ordeal to be their situation (it wasn't ideal, obviously) but it was also true that there was literally no better form of concealment. "Something is finally within reach—" because indeed, Shinichi had been fruitlessly pedalling with no aim for some time— "and you want to play a coward?"

Haibara's eyes narrowed. "I want to play alive," she snapped. "I want to find a cure, and be able to get back to a human life, and leave all this behind. Leave me disconnected from any takedown."

"You want to cut and run," Kudo stated in an echo of the underlying meaning.

Haibara lashed back with the same sarcasm— "forgive me for feeling concerned to those around you. Do you think they won't immediately connect alerts from data access or the police in this area, and think about that detective you've propped up? Even if they don't find you, specifically."

Shinichi blinked, once again frozen like his mind had entered a loading state. "You think they'll attack the Mouris." It wasn't a question, really. It certainly wasn't sarcasm, either. No, it was raw fear of an unconsidered possibility.

Shinichi knew that he'd have to live life undercover, were he to… no, when he returned to his original form— after all, that was the reason he'd adopted that ridiculous persona in the first place— but he hadn't thought of the repercussions of making Mouri a famed detective, then attempting to conduct searches under his name, or even in his general vicinity. Considering their attempt on his life previously, the Organization seemed very much to think better dead than sorry in terms of evaluating a threat.

"It's," Shinichi stopped, then started again, settling on a quiet but fierce tone: "we can't let them keep existing."

Ai merely flicked an ear again, and didn't respond. "I'll get you a map," she promised, "and work on a cure." There was disdain in her voice, clearly directed at their current state. "But outside of that, I will not involve myself. I don't want to be responsible for more death."

She left Shinichi to mull.

xXx

The locations were… well, as Haibara had stated: all over the world. Shinichi found a litany of reasons the Black Organization might have turned those buildings into shells; some lined up with his previous theories, some were a little more complicated— such as one company offering another company its land in a business deal or as an extension of friendship, only for the receiving company to… seemingly not exist, another shadowy extension of the spider's leg.

The web wasn't fully invisible; it was more like it shimmered, in a sense. There were strands that Kudo could see, wafting off these companies, but they disappeared into nothingness when he tried to grab hold of them with research. Records of the money, records of company relations, identities of workers (outside of, obviously, Haibara) etcetera… well, they were clearly well hidden by people who knew how to hide them.

It was frustrating, to say the least, to get new information yet feel like you'd learned nothing of the bigger picture. Usually, Kudo felt like the pieces clicked and slid in place with relative ease— granted, those had been pieces of people, maybe a small group of four or five at most in the midst of some criminal investigation, not an entire organization that he had no grasp of the size. He could do people, identify the possible meanings of smudged lipstick, or manicured nails, a nervous tic, a specific color of the tattoo… he was still learning the same subtle hints of corporate identity: the money flow, the business partners, etcetera.

In regards to frustration, Shinichi had a few choice words to say on that matter. Ones that are not necessarily appropriate to repeat in this text.

What Haibara had to say when she saw Kudo, meanwhile, was appropriate, and was as follows, in an incredulous tone: "you have a whole conspiracy theory board?"

It had been quite difficult to set up with paws and his mouth, but the answer to that was yes. Well, it was a yes if you counted something laid out on the floor as a yes, that is; Shinichi wasn't exactly in any form to be pushing pins into something upright, so red string haphazardly looped and weighted between patches of laid out info that all rested on the ground ultimately had to do.

All Shinichi said on the "board" was a startled "um," that teetered in a way that suggested he was contemplating some kind of denial— he was indeed contemplating that, specifically "it's not technically a board, nor is it a conspiracy"— and his voice cut out in a way that implied he'd realized the stupidity and futility of the notion (for once).

Haibara stepped over the clump labelled Night Baron, padded over the string that traced to another batch of info under a label that simply read explosives. She only dignified the whole array with a drawn out "hm."

Shinichi made a huffy, indignant sound, feeling like he had to defend the thing somehow— but only came up with, "it's just a way to organize my thoughts."

Another low, "mm," sound from Ai.

Shinichi almost snapped you're not a detective, you wouldn't get it, before realizing exactly how petulant and childish that line sounded. Instead, he let his jaw snap shut with a disapproving click— which was still sort of petulant, but at least didn't sound like a young tween in the midst of a grunge-emo phase.

Ai was not an easy to read person (nor was she an easy to read cat, to cover all bases of description regardless of form), but Shinichi was decently sure the closest summarization of her emotions at the moment was the term "vaguely amused." She didn't seem pleased that he was attempting to find out anything on the Black Org, no, her air was not one of hope. It was more like she was watching an idiotic child stumble around, learning to find its feet while she smiled, a persistent onlooker.

Which felt patronizing, to say the least. Kudo felt himself prickling; emotionally, but also physically, hair standing up a bit in display of irritation. It wasn't very satisfying to get prickly with Ai, though; she was too calm, all the time. Shinichi was used to interacting people— such as Sonoko or Ran— who would, when he was sarcastic, find some way to be prickly back (Sonoko with her sharp words, and Ran with the threat of fists). He wasn't exactly sure how to react to someone who stood there, looking moderately miffed and like it was all beneath her; it took the wind from his sails. Shinichi let his form— fur, spine, and all— slump down gracelessly as he disengaged from the roiling, tense emotions that were clearly getting him nowhere.

It was then that Ai seemed to deem him worthy of conversation; it was unclear if it was because he relaxed, or if she had simply grown bored of the silence. "What were you planning to do next?" There was a gleam in her eye: this time, a cross between mild amusement (seemingly as always, granted) and a cutting judgement.

Shinichi let his gaze drift and settle on her, slow as his mind gnawed on the question. What next indeed. Despite this being the question the board was made for, he still had no answer.

He could tell what Ai thought his answer should be, though. Something harsh was hidden in her posture— and considering her earlier opinions, she clearly simply wanted him to drop it all. To recognize his position as futile, to look for a cure, and then hide his human self away from the massive threat.

Shinichi refused. Not just out of a matter of morals, because he couldn't let some murderous organization continue to exist— and it wasn't pride either, because, though he had become less prideful through the cat-flavored serving of humble pie, Shinichi was still prideful enough to not want to run away. No, no, there was more than morality and ego. There was logistics: how could Ai and Kudo resume any semblance of safe human lives with a black spider still lurking in the corner of the vision, ever-present and waiting to sink its fangs in to devour their insides? The answer was that really, earnestly, they couldn't; thinking he could "go back to normal" immediately when cured was more a fantasy than anything (and that was even if he could be cured, though Kudo didn't think that pessimistically). And that was just another reason to push Shinichi towards success.

So, to Ai, who hoped for an easy answer of hiding, Shinichi puffed up and said, "investigate them more, of course." Now, he had a list of warehouses to scout out connections to, locations to sniff around; things which Haibara had easily provided.

Ai just stared at him— she didn't look surprised, but she did look resigned. She had been expecting the answer, and had just prayed that wouldn't be Kudo's answer. It seemed she'd already figured out that while his momentum could be slowed, it could not be curbed outright; Shinichi, once latched onto the whiff of a chase, would not let go. He could be likened to a predator in that regard— and less poetically and figuratively, in others, obviously… his personal choice had always been a shark on the scent of blood, but, well.

"You will make an antidote, though, yes?" Shinichi asked, allowing a glimmering shine of vulnerable hope to thread itself into his voice.

Ai closed her eyes, and nodded. Before Kudo could het out more than a breath of relief and begin on any sort of response, Haibara's eyes snapped open and she said intensely, "I have two things to say, though. One," she began, and overriding any sort of questions, a condition was laid out: "don't be stupid with your identity." Once again, Shinichi's reply was cut off (it was going to be something more along the lines of a cheeky "well, I'm doing okay so far"), and Haibara continued in a sort of barking, authoritative tone, "two: do not expect this to be quick."

Shinichi's ears pinned back at the reprimand. "I didn't think it would be fast," he rebuffed. His tail lashed a little. "But… how long will it take? I thought you would be using Agasa's temporary antidote, which would give you some basis, right?"

"Of course I'm going to use his work," Haibara shot back, a bit scandalized at the prospect of not taking advantage of the previously done research. "Still, the fact remains I do not have the data of the original drug, and thus formulating an antidote will be… complicated. If I had the data, it would still be hard, given the unprecedented nature of these particular side effects, both the transformative properties of the drug and the fact that it seems to have some active component in your system considering you revert when given an antidote… and given that I don't have the data on top of this, the whole project has become significantly harder."

With prior knowledge of both Haibara's prickly-yet-cool demeanor and of genetic research, Shinichi could read between the lines of her overly-formal talk: this is crazy, and it's a crazy endeavor. He could respond with a litany of arguments, or a pep talk. That was what a normal person would do— Shinichi was not normal, nor was he even a person at the moment, so he instead responded with, "what if we could get the data?"

"What if we could," Haibara echoed, still clearly processing, then cut herself off with a harshly abrupt, "what?!"

"If you managed to get the data, then—"

"But you won't," she interjected, somehow simultaneously confident and dejected. "We're never going to get that data, Kudo; we won't find the Black Org, and we won't infiltrate them in any way."

Shinichi stared at her. "What's stopping us?"

"We don't have any resources," she snipped, gesturing obviously to her cat form, "nor do we have any clue where they are or where the data is."

Shinichi was only half listening, at this point, and instead went on a tangent. "If we found where they were storing at least some of their data," he began, mumbly and thoughtful, "we would stand to have a chance of all that." Louder, he proclaimed, "one of the biggest issues with a case like this is not knowing where to start; I've been overwhelmed at the number of vague leads that go nowhere, unsure which holes to pursue— and yes, in these bodies, certain things are difficult… but at least anonymity is easy."

Ai just stared, and stared, and stared— clearly contemplating something, turning it over and over with a look of consternation on her muzzle.

When she took in breath, Shinichi eagerly pricked his ears and leaned forward, telegraphing interest in her end statement.

Ai's conclusion was thus: "you're insane."

Kudo took a moment to blink in surprise. He wasn't overly surprised to hear that generally, because he (and his family) had often gotten comments on their eccentricities (to put both the words "comments" and "eccentricities" lightly). Mostly, it was surprising coming from someone as aloof-seeming as Haibara. Kudo was able to recover and construct a sauve response fairly quickly, though— smoothly, Shinichi pointed out, "that's not a no."

"No," Haibara agreed slowly, "it isn't."

xXx

I lied about abandoning canon because I forgot about the desperate revival arc. Still doing that. Or, my version of it, yanno. After that, though… I don't wanna watch more, frankly, and all the spy shenanigans are blehhnmm.

...If you want something longer (considering it's been some damn time): I'm actually not as horribly depressed/bored, so I'm not writing as much. Like, I mean, sorry for it being a long time, but not sorry :U author time works different than normal time anyways, I swear.

Also I've been running a DND campaign. It's been fun.

And I, as of yesterday, no longer have wisdom teeth.