Though Shinichi had doubts about how Shiho would react to his story, she more than proved herself a valuable ally. She dug into her old academic connections. A friend of a friend had an advisor who specialized in document reconstruction. Shinichi had consulted some specialists in the past, but the nice thing about academia was that researchers could try new techniques on the book, and even if they learned nothing, they would get something out of it. Shinichi had little to lose.

Given how long he'd been out of touch with Shiho, she'd gone above and beyond to take his story seriously. For a month, they spent Sundays reviewing his evidence, the case that had brought him to Hokkaido, and what he'd done to try to get back on the trail since housefire. He'd expected more criticism, really. Perhaps she was just biding her time, but the fact that she listened was a relief. Shinichi had long dreaded the day when someone from the past came back into his life, demanding answers and wanting to know why he left. If it hadn't been Ran, or Heiji, then it would be Shiho. All in all, it had gone far better than he'd expected, and he couldn't have been more thankful that Shiho had listened, and was even helping him.

For that reason, he'd thought to buy her something as a token of gratitude. His choice was a red handbag, emblazoned with rubies. It's dangerous to choose a gift for a woman without letting her try it first, but Shinichi was prepared. He'd imported an image of Shiho into Photoshop and put it together with a color-corrected version of the bag. She had the clothes to make it work, and if all else failed, there was one surefire tactic to employ: he'd include a gift receipt.

Shiho's professor friend invited them to see the fruits of their research, and the results had proved promising. Through the lab's experimental techniques, they'd managed to recover part of a name written on the inside cover and obscured by charring, as well as some details like the book having been dated to 1979. That was a great start, but they still had a lot to figure out: where had this person gone to college? How could they discern the culprit's identity from just part of a name?

But while Shinichi had only begun to work through ideas for how to proceed, Shiho had brought in unexpected help: Heiji and Sera. They arrived just a few minutes after the professor and his students began explaining the full findings, but they clearly knew what to expect and why Shinichi and Shiho were there. The mood was awkward and disturbing. Heiji seemed relieved that Shinichi had finally called in help after all those years. Sera was enthusiastic to see what case had occupied his attention. They peppered the researchers with a barrage of questions about the experimental technique and what they could expect. Heiji was already getting in touch with some contacts in Osaka–people who knew people in Hokkaido–to try to track down their mystery criminal.

But Shinichi was not having it. He took Shiho aside, into the classroom next door. "What are they doing here?" he demanded.

Shiho crossed her arms. "I asked them to come." Shinichi was being foolish, trying to do this all by himself. It was about time he faced reality: he wasn't going to solve this case alone, and if he thought she would stay quiet when his closest friends from the past, and his peer detectives, were all curious what had happened to him, then he didn't know her as well as she thought. "Take this opportunity," she told him, "and move on from your self-imposed exile already."

Shinichi's blood was boiling. "Maybe you're right, and maybe I've been stupid about this. I knew it might be inevitable that I'd have to face Ran or Hattori or Sera or my family, but I trusted you to let me make that decision! I trusted you!"

Angry as he was, he couldn't afford to be rude to Shiho's professor friend. He might still need the lab's services later, and they'd done quite a bit with no initial prospects for success. He and Shiho returned to listen to the researchers' presentation, but Shinichi let Heiji and Sera do most of the talking. Shiho didn't say much either, whether she was quietly annoyed with him for being too much of a fool or something else, he couldn't say. As for Heiji and Sera, they seemed to get the hint that Shinichi had been caught by surprise by their arrival. They didn't show much, but he only imagined they were disappointed, and talk of lunch afterward quickly went by the wayside.

It was only as Shinichi hit the restroom before leaving that Shiho spoke to him again. She waited outside for him, and he didn't even see her initially when he left the room.

"You're right," she admitted quietly. "I didn't ask if you were ready. I'm sorry about that." She stepped in front of him. "But you didn't ask if I was ready, either. I didn't have a lot back then. I was trying to be myself again for the first time in years, and you go and just cut yourself out of all our lives. Maybe you didn't mean it that way, but that's how it felt."

"I didn't cut myself out of your lives," said Shinichi, holding on to his inhaler in his pocket. "The Shinichi Kudo you knew didn't survive that fire. I'm just a shadow of him."

"No you're not," said Shiho. "You're different, you're not any less of a person because of that. It doesn't have to be today, but let us get to know you how you are."

Shinichi thought about that heavily on his way to the car. His reflection in the driver-side window told him he was but a pale imitation of his former self—thinner and not as strong as he once had been—but Shiho was there with him, waiting for him to unlock the door.

"If you want to go home and think about it," she said, "that's okay, too. There will be another chance, if you want it."

Right, he could wait. He could let another few years pass by, but eventually, even if he solved the case himself, the question then would be, what now?, and Shinichi knew well that he would be no less of a shadow for it. Shiho had shown him well enough that even a shadow can be distinctive, can take shape, as a contrast to bright light.

"Tell Hattori," he said, opening the doors, "that we'll see him and Sera for lunch."

Shiho shot him a sympathetic smile. Surely she knew what this meant from him, but just as she pulled out her phone, he held up a finger.

"One more thing," he went on. "When we meet them, there's something I'd like you to wear."