Approach of Absolute Zero Chapter 3: Over the oak, a detective conan/case closed fanfic

A/N: Well... the wait this time was because this next part is complex and I needed to write ahead. The good news is that the next chapter is finished. I just need to go over it. I'm busy with chapter 5, give me a week or two or three or more lol.

Thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed, and left a review. This fic will be about 165k over 13 chapters, meaning it won't get as many stats as a 40+ chapter fic - so I appreciate every one of you all that much more. I like to think you appreciate that 13 chapters means it won't be left hanging forever? Anyway, thank you.

let's gooooo

Approach of Absolute ZERO

by fluxfiction

3. Over the oak

(Thrust about a new world, everyone begins accommodating—!)

Within a stone-walled building, a furnace thrums with life. Heavy flames enter a combustion chamber, burning hot on the taste of gas. Nozzles send the fire into places directed by the central controller in the building's heart. Exhaust smoke flows up the ceiling and into a channel; travelling up and across, tumbling along stages of filters until pollutants are shed, exiting into the sky as clean air to be breathed by the people of tomorrow.

The man in the two-piece olive suit does not remain in the waiting room as a family member would. He stops at a small altar and prays at the candle for the departed spirit. The death of a young child is a tragedy. In the hour before the trolley is wheeled out of the cremation chamber, he has more than enough time to visit a flower shop. It's reasonable, he concludes, for an officer to become sympathetic. He'll take care of the ashes and manage the bones when he returns to the crematorium.

The perfection-demanding Furuya-san can accept a motive in that format.

Kazamis are all born with large foreheads and eyebrows like thin strings. Though it's not as attention-grabbing as Furuya's colouring, it was Yuuya who saw to young Kazami Shin in the aftermath of an incident at daycare, when his brother was not able to pick up his son, years ago. It was Yuuya who told his little nephew to ignore the other children making fun of him as if being underestimated is a rite of passage that all men go through in their lives.

"Listen, Shin. Miyamoto Musashi, the great samurai, said:

"'It may seem difficult at first, but everything is difficult at first.'

"'To know ten thousand things, know one well.'

"You're interested in chess? Then you must never stop learning. The moment you cease to walk, you will be left behind. Let others stop before you do. In the moment you reach back, they will recognise your ability."

Yuuya, who was also a Kazami made fun of once, thinks he understands Furuya's intensity as a desire to prove himself. Sharp, bold, with bulletproof conviction, Furuya Rei is a living legend. His pushing through life is elegant, ruthless. He bears a terrifying drive and a list of accomplishments that will undoubtedly go beyond the ordinary.

In the last twenty-four hours, the Kazami Yuuya of Tokyo's Public Safety Bureau has witnessed the weight of that resolve...

And as Furuya turned, he accepted its noble burden.

Less than 24 hours ago, outside the side room. Blue Parrot Billiards Bar.

"He is a civilian," is what Yuuya says about Edogawa Conan's involvement.

"As they are all," is Furuya's cryptic reply.

"I – my relations aside, I do not think I am well-suited to... babysitting—"

Furuya holds up a hand and Yuuya cuts himself off. His boss scans for eavesdroppers in the main building. Seemingly satisfied, Furuya extracts his wallet, checking its contents. "Watch him for me, Kazami. I'm out of time."

"Out of—? Furuya-san, we can put him under protection. If you are in danger, with all respect, the MPD can—"

"He is attached to his life."

"But—"

"I'm relying on you to keep him safe, Kazami." He takes out the money and pockets it. The wallet is given to Yuuya, and without thinking, Yuuya takes it. "And I'm... sorry. Sorry to use your family like this."

"It's..." no problem.

Woosh!

His boss's fist sails through the air, hitting nothing. Yuuya can see light blue eyes blowing wide, lips pulling back to reveal the edge of bright teeth, and features illuminated by fury embedded in a face tilted to hide in shadow. Then Furuya catches himself. Like a leaf turning in a breeze, his personality inverts. His spine straightens, hands smoothing out the front panels of his clothing. The creases below his eyes fill flush, authoritative gaze all-seeing.

"Listen, Kazami," says Furuya quietly, and Yuuya strains his ears to hear. "We should never need to use the lives of those who have passed. No person should ever have to accept this. If you must hate something, then please hate me for putting you in a position where you can't refuse."

His boss looks like he's bowing. Yuuya hesitates, filled with unease. "Furuya-san?"

"Ah?"

"With all respect, Furuya-san," says Yuuya. Older than his supervisor, it's a truth in their work that he never forgets their ages. Yuuya acknowledges their relationship: he is inferior to the other in all things except years lived. But here, Furuya Rei has never looked so surprised or so young, and Yuuya's age makes for more experience. "'New eras don't come about because of swords, they're created by the people who wield them'. If this is my duty, so be it. I recognise what must be done."

"I never became Zero intending to put someone else through what happened to myself."

"It's our job to start the illegal business, just as we'll end it." Yuuya repeats the words spoken to him on another day. Through the twisting present in his chest, the barest of smiles make its way to Yuuya's face. "Furuya-san, please concentrate on your mission. You may trust me with his life."

He finishes those heartfelt words and feels like he's crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed. Whether it's to hide his own awkwardness or to let his boss regain his composure, Yuuya averts his gaze. His tablet slips a small distance. He ignores a twist in his stomach and affirms his grip on it.

"Then I entrust him to your care for two weeks," says Furuya, the most admirable person that Yuuya knows. "After two weeks, if That matter is no longer relevant, I'll terminate the arrangement."

"Yes, sir."

"And Kazami?"

"Sir?"

"Thank you."

Yuuya thinks, I'm honoured.

Standing there, Furuya's wallet burning in his chest pocket, he can't express his gratefulness, abandoned by his mouth.

"Ehhh? Amuro-san no longer works at Poirot?"

Ran hardly glances up from where she's tidying her father's mess, filing stray paperwork while she waits.

"Right?" she says. "I was surprised when I found out he was leaving, too."

"When was this?" asks the curious Conan.

She thinks. "He told dad that he was going to stop his apprenticeship before you came back from Hawaii. I think it might have been around then."

Behind Shin'ichi, the Agency's door opens. "It's here!" Sonoko exclaims, brandishing her phone. "They've solved the riddle! The heist is at 8 PM tonight!"

"Heist?" says Conan.

"Eh?" Sonoko squints down as if she's only just noticed him. "That's right, you were off to wherever for three months. Of course, KID-sama is having a heist!"

"He's a thief, Sonoko-neechan."

She waves her hand in the universal motion for shoo. "Squirt, you just aren't old enough to admire beauty. Uncle didn't invite ya, hmmm? Get outta here."

I can admire beauty just fine, thanks, Shin'ichi thinks wryly, glancing one last time at Ran before going out. His teenage self has had plenty of experience with Sonoko and her moods to know better than to hang around. KID heist... KID heist... come to think of it, he did read about a KID heist at the airport, before he was picked up by Amuro. The days of pushing his way into heists he's learned about from the media are of the past; if the 'KID Killer' wasn't in the country when the notice came in, that explains why he has no invitation to this one—

Shin'ichi stops in the stairwell. An odd instinct instructs him to reconstruct the timeline. Realisation has him pull out his smartphone.

He brings up the last two addresses inputted into the Maps app.

'He told dad that he was going to stop his apprenticeship before you came back from Hawaii.'

Take the 'when': Zero gave Conan his information after he quit working at Poirot.

Conclude a 'why': Did Zero give him his addresses so Conan could find him?

He examines the markers a little longer, testing the deduction against the rest of the evidence, and rings a number.

The line opens.

"I think I might be looking at this wrong, Hattori," Shin'ichi says immediately.

"Heiji?"

It's Kazuha's voice. The young Touyama is at the foot of the steps, confusion in her green eyes as she blinks up at Conan.

Shin'ichi panics. "Kazuha-neechan?!"

"Eh?" Hattori says through the phone. "Yeah, Kazuha's headin' to—"

Conan punches the call end button. "Oh no, I hung up!"

"He deserves it," says Kazuha. "He has exams! Ah, Conan-kun, don't tell him I said that. Really, how is he findin' time to help Kudou-kun on a case?"

"What's this about a case with Kudou-kun?" Sera Masumi chimes in, the female transfer student appearing next to Kazuha as if summoned. She beams, slowly, that little fang peeping past her upper lip. "Hey, Conan-kun. I'm sure you know what's going on, what's Kudou-kun working on?"

"S-S-Sera-neechan, you're here too?" Conan stammers.

"Hey there, you must be Kazuha-chan!" Sera waves.

"Good mornin'!" says Kazuha. "You're...?"

"Sera Masumi, detective!"

The Agency's door swings open, revealing Sonoko and then Ran. Sonoko peers through the doorway and Shin'ichi realises the four women's outfits all contain a striped handkerchief.

Sonoko's handkerchief dangles from a stylish belt. "They're here, Ran!"

"Oh!" Ran emerges with a handkerchief tied around one wrist. Shin'ichi again admires today's outfit, cute overall-shorts that flatter her figure and lengthen her legs. "Good morning, you're both early!"

"Yeah! I made sure ta get the early train," says Kazuha, adjusting a small backpack over the shoulders of her t-shirt dress. Her handkerchief is in her hair. "Ran-san, where is Kudou-kun? First Heiji, now gettin' a kid involved in his business?"

"Geez, Shin'ichi, getting Conan-kun involved again...!"

"Now, now." Sera winks. Her handkerchief has been folded and tucked inside a flap on her jacket like a pocket square. She hooks her thumbs into her jeans and leans down, smiling. "I think Conan-kun would've gotten himself involved as soon as he's noticed there might be a mystery."

Ha ha, thinks Shin'ichi, I'm not that bad.

Conan backs up, laughing. "Ahehe. Shouldn't you be going if you want to get cake? It'll get late."

Ran frowns. "Did I tell you we were going out for cake?"

Crap.

"Um..."

"It's the handkerchiefs," Sera explains. "He's probably realised that based on seeing the flyer you mentioned at school, Ran-chan. We are wearing these," she pats her pocket, "good luck charms to secure the striped cake hiding a tiger pattern inside it, right?"

"Ha-hah!" Sonoko snaps her fingers, settling her opposite hand over her Bengal-striped blouse. "Ah, if KID-sama captures the Garnet Lion tonight, I'm also ready to be stolen!"

Spotting Ran looking as if she's about to say something, and Sera grinning at him wolfishly, Conan sneaks hurriedly out of the young ladies' meetup and flees past Sonoko before he's surrounded. Three martial artists and the heir to a fortune. Vermouth remains a threat, but they should have enough wits between them to find the scorpion should she be waiting.

Sonoko's voice follows him out. "Kazuha-chan, have you ever had your heart almost stolen from one of KID-sama's magnificent, heart-pounding heists?"

Shin'ichi dares to relax.

Nothing here to worry about.

The bus is there when he gets to the station. He hops on with a spare second, then messages Hattori an apology when he gets off. A few moments later he gets a call back.

Somehow he's unsurprised that Hattori spent good time thinking about how to make fun of his admission about being wrong.

"Hattori," he says, after the second pun, "are you done?"

"Our midget Tokyo detective's hang-ups caused him to hang up?"

Shin'ichi rolls his eyes. "Let me talk, idiot. What's Kazuha doing in Tokyo anyway?"

"She's been worrying 'bout exams, then heard about your Neechan's invitation for special limited edition cake or somewhat. Where'd you mess up?"

"I didn't mess up, Hattori."

"What's yer mistaken assumption?"

Shin'ichi sighs. "I told you I got that address in Kobe..."

He tells him about the person working in Tokyo with two wallets that contain two drivers' licenses and two different bank account cards.

"This person," Shin'ichi finishes, "I don't know if he's on our side or not, but it seems he's moved out of his job."

"He's one of Them, isn't he?" Hattori figures it out. "Kudou, you're friends with the strangest folks. I told'ja, it's just a trap."

"I'm hanging up."

"Sheesh, alright! Look. If I was 'im, I'd probably be using ya — Conan-kun — ta get to Kudou."

"Huh?"

"If he makes himself go missing, you'd wanna try find him. Which means you'd call yourself, uhh, yer big self. Kudou, Edogawa Conan's best bud."

Hattori has a point.

Shin'ichi ponders over it.

"He'd have asked more questions to Ran about where I am if he's after me," Shin'ichi points out. "Ran hasn't mentioned anything like that to me or to Conan."

Walking and talking, Conan passes the last street in his mental list of directions and reaches a crossroad to a different neighbourhood. It's a residential area, old enough for power to be delivered to homes via poles and hanging lines. He notes the few amounts of people sharing the street wide enough for one or two vehicles and keeps moving. The building he stops in front of is a white block of units, text on the outer wall, car parking on the side.

MAISON MOKUBA.

"That address in Kobe, it was also a manshon-style apartment, right?" asks Shin'ichi.

"Right."

Shin'ichi turns his gaze downward, examining the road. He walks alongside it until he reaches an ordinary street gutter. Something sticks out and he turns his attention to it. Wrought bars... parallel stripes...

The grate is shut...?

"—Kudou, you listening? Cat got ya tongue?"

Sera's voice comes back all at once: To secure the striped cake hiding a tiger pattern inside it.

An epiphany turns his thoughts around.

"Hattori!" Shin'ichi whirls. 'A cat with his tongue' means he's closed his mouth. "The Kobe apartment! How does it open? You said it was an electronic lock. Did it have a key panel - could you open the doors with a code?"

"The main walkup was lined with cameras. After the main walkup, there's an automatic sensor door. The auto door seems ta have a card reader, I'd wager it's unlocked with a keypass after hours. Inside the auto door, past the mailboxes, there's a screen panel by the elevators. Might be a key code there for accessing floors."

"Might?"

"I didn't go in, remember? Ya warned me not ta let too many people catch me on private cameras."

In the interest of Hattori's safety, he did. He turns over what he knows:

A key pass is a card containing an antenna and a chip with a code inside. Using a special device, codes can be read from within a key pass and cloned into the chip of a blank card. Some systems track the use of individual keys using unique identifiers. In a system with an open front door and codes for accessing each level, the chance of that is slim, which means...

Level codes can be passed by mouth.

Copies of the key pass can be made and used without anyone being the wiser.

"How many elevators?" says Shin'ichi.

"Huh?"

"I can see the number of storeys online. Inside, what does it look like? How many elevators did it have?"

"Might've been two. I think... One or two, but I saw emergency stairs too."

There are multiple methods of entry and exit into Amuro Tooru's Kobe apartment.

Knew it. A dark smile crosses Conan's mouth in victory. "Thanks, Hattori!"

"Hey, Kudou," Hattori adds, "If you wan' me ta try a code, you might hav'ta do it yerself. Ma found out I crossed into the Chubu region."

"Chubu? Why are you in Central Japan?"

"Looking fer what I think is your lead. Boutta— WOAH!"

There's a crackle like the crush of tissue paper. The silence which follows is brief, deafening in its silence. Then it's ripped into pieces by a loud crunch above a distinctive woosh of air.

Shin'ichi's first thought is a muffled gunshot.

"Hattori?" says Shin'ichi.

The line cuts off.

"Hattori?"

He stares at his phone for several seconds, each stretching longer than the last. He jolts himself out and starts running back to the bus stop. Adrenaline adding speed and panic in equal amounts, he dials a new number and its ringing echoes in his head.

Pick up, Professor!

Shin'ichi bursts into Professor Agasa's circular house with his heart lodged in his throat. Conan stops, coughing it back into his chest. His shoes are kicked off. He strides up to the portly man.

"Did you manage to get through?" says Shin'ichi.

"No, I'm afraid not."

Dread fills Shin'ichi all at once. "What about GPS? Is there any way we can find Hattori's location?"

"That's unlikely," Agasa replies, and if his visible worry looks like a fraction of what is on Conan's face, then the expression Shin'ichi is making must be very haunted indeed. "No matter what we try, it seems the device isn't powered on."

"Shit."

"Looks like you'll have to wait for news, Kudou-kun," Haibara remarks from beside a computer.

Shin'ichi turns to her. "And you can't—"

"Kudou-kun," interrupts Haibara, "I'm concentrating. If you want a social media analysis to find what you think was a gunshot noise in the Chubu region, let me finish." She sighs. "Not like it isn't festival season."

He has enough confidence in discerning frequencies to say that nothing he heard was a firecracker, but Shin'ichi leaves her to it.

"To speak of something else, Shin'ichi..." Agasa approaches, and Shin'ichi blinks as his vision widens. Boxes are open in the lab and trays are scattered about. The last time he saw these crates, it was... "The things you requested me to order arrived this morning. And I've made you a new gadget."

He grins and reveals the objects in his hands.

"Elevator inserts?" says Shin'ichi slowly. "And my tracking glasses?"

"Ah, not just ordinary elevator inserts!" Agasa dips his head with a wink. He turns the brown-patterned pieces around to show Shin'ichi the indentation of a rectangle on its underside. Gingerly, he applies a tweezer to the mark, and it peels away like a cover to reveal a female data port nested in a small box, which is then levered out. The same is done with the other one. "This here is data storage. Take the new microphone I've invented for the criminal tracking glasses," he holds up a small black pellet, "and connect the three parts. Now you can save any voice data you might pick up.

"In summary, it's a voice recorder."

Shin'ichi reaches for the combination gadget. Altogether it comes to about the size of a shelled peanut. He swaps the glasses on his face with the new tracking glasses from Agasa, and speaks into it.

"This is a test. Is this recording?" he hears through the arm of the glasses half a second after speaking.

"The chip has no receiver," Agasa warns, "therefore there's no instructing it to start or stop recording. When it records, it will record continuously. Once it is full, it will overwrite the oldest data."

"How long can it record for?"

"Just under twenty-four hours on each data box. With both, you can cover almost two days. About 44 hours."

Shin'ichi removes one of the data boxes and angles it into the light. Any hints of electronic circuitry are hard to find.

"Be careful when you use it," Agasa adds quietly. "I haven't made any recording gadgets until now. That said... ah..."

"Having your phone actively recording certainly came in useful at the Teimuzu River kite flying event," Haibara remarks.

"You... you remember that," Shin'ichi mutters.

"Of course I do. You certainly didn't have any qualms trying to catch me humming." She clicks her mouse. "Professor, tell him the other thing before he gets distracted."

"O-oh, yes," says Agasa. He holds up a small container, and its contents clatter. "Here. Custom travel adapters for charging the rest of your gadgets."

Haibara turns away from the computer screen and Shin'ichi's phone buzzes.

"Your social media analysis is complete," she remarks. "Someone knocked Hattori-san's phone into a highway. I've sent you the data, I know you would prefer to read it yourself."

As she gets up and stretches, Shin'ichi confirms it: Hattori's phone was damaged, but Hattori is safe.

"Where did you go?" Haibara asks. At Shin'ichi's blink, she elaborates: "There's white fur on your trousers."

"Eh?" Shin'ichi twists for a better look. When did that...? He pulls the fur off. "I was investigating a location."

"A location," Haibara repeats. "This doesn't happen to have anything to do with Bourbon?"

"Ehh... er..."

"Spill it."

He's dimly aware that Agasa is placing his new travel adaptors with the special items Conan couldn't purchase. The travel adaptors are a sensible idea that means he no longer needs to visit Agasa's house as often, therefore...

The Haibara waiting for him to answer is the one who's come up with it.

So Shin'ichi tells her everything. The car ride back from the airport. The two wallets with the two bank cards and the two drivers' licenses. Hattori looking into the apartment in Kobe. Investigating the apartment in Tokyo called 'Maison Mokuba'.

She holds up a hand when he prepares to tell her about taking the identity of Kazami Shin.

"Kudou-kun," she says, in a specific tone. "I'll regret asking, however... you concluded something?"

"The apartment in Kobe is most likely a safe house."

Haibara frowns. "You realise if Bourbon is Amuro Tooru, and Amuro Tooru's address is a safe house, that means it's one of Theirs?"

"I do." Which means Shin'ichi is right to warn Hattori away from getting close to it. "It's not like I was going to suggest getting the police to look into it, don't worry."

"So you can learn." Haibara sighs and places one hand to either side of her diminutive figure. "Pull him out, Kudou-kun."

"Ah?"

"Hattori-san. You're not the only one who knows the address, so pull him out. He's an idiot, but we can still limit his involvement. You understand, don't you? If the Boss's phone number is Pandora's Box, this Amuro Tooru's address is the lair of the devil."

"You were lucky this time, Kudou-kun, but one day, it could be a real gunshot."

Pushing Hattori's close highway shave into the back of his mind, Shin'ichi is glad to be back on his skateboard, riding down the footpaths at a leisurely pace. His schedule is full. The wind breezes through his hair as he heads for his first meeting today.

Arriving one minute after half past eleven, he kicks the board up as FBI Agent Jodie Starling spots him and makes a jaunty wave.

"Hi, Cool Kid!" she greets. "I've already secured us seats. Come in!"

They pass the large ferris wheel and head for a coffee shop inside the Haido Shopping Mall. They order their drinks. Her eyes flicker at his choice.

The drinks arrive in reverse, and Shin'ichi reaches over to grab the iced coffee which landed in front of Jodie.

"Well," she begins; first in English then switching to Japanese, "I assume you haven't called me here to hang out. What do you have?"

"Two things," Shin'ichi replies.

"Go ahead."

"I heard about the incident involving Jake Ross, and the hacking attack. How are you holding up?"

"I thought you would ask." Jodie sips her iced tea. The cup lowers, her gaze sharpens, and when she opens her mouth, her grammar becomes flush. "You're correct. Headquarters has been concerned about both incidents. Fortunately, it's not as bad as it might sound. A body was found on the East Coast matching Jake Ross's description, pending forensic results. Before he came to us, he was a gambler, and we think the Organization found him by tracking down his habits. It's regrettable, but we do warn people to change their hobbies as part of entering Witness Protection."

"When did Ross turn traitor? Was that when you came to Japan?"

"The timeline..." Jodie draws a line across the table. "Almost three decades before I joined, the FBI was alerted to the Organization's existence. A few years ago, following domestic investigations, a low-ranking member agreed to give us information in exchange for a new identity, and we made him 'Jake Ross.' I was sent to Japan after that. During this time, Jake Ross scheduled several routine appointments with us. And now, before one of those appointments took place," she taps the other end of her invisible line, "Jake Ross has been killed."

"He didn't have seniority..." Shin'ichi murmurs. "Which means Their silencing of him might be confirmation that the Organization's base of operations is in Japan."

"I think it's very likely."

"But?"

Jodie quirks her lips. "James and the analysts are holding off on that conclusion for now. It's a long, messy history behind our coming here, but in short, the Organization has caused a lot of trouble back in the States and worldwide. This has been an ongoing effort and nobody wants to be wrong. We need enough evidence before we can formally approach your government to take them down."

Shin'ichi drinks his coffee and thinks it over.

Jodie continues. "The second incident, the database leak, that's straightforward. The data was lost during a hardware upgrade. There's no evidence that there was an attack or that there was a specific target."

"Not Sharon Vineyard?"

"Not even our favourite Rotten Apple. But her fingerprints being in the data has made the situation nightmarish. Chris has brought the public into debating if our evidence is concrete enough. Sharon's estate has filed every lawsuit even fractionally related. And then Sharon's talent agent killed himself two days ago after leaving a note about how he didn't want this fiction of non-existence smearing two individually brilliant legacies."

"Then...!"

"Exactly. There's no question that Vermouth killed him to get the attention off of her identity."

"But..." Shin'ichi pauses. "Would she go out of her way to do that? This is Sharon Vineyard, whose funeral was a quiet affair."

"You think someone gave her the idea?"

"It's a possibility."

Or, thinks Shin'ichi, she's always been this subversive, and we've underestimated the real depths of her cruelty.

"Regardless, our hands are tied," says Jodie. "The higher-ups have their attention on us. All of our activities are suspended until they resolve this. James has stopped making requests for resources, and for the foreseeable future, we are no longer to attract attention that may draw negative results. We are lucky in the sense that the current President used the political capital from Jack Waltz to pass some changes, and none of our operatives have died on foreign soil yet." She groans. "Camel suggested another political possibility. It might be right."

"What did Agent Camel suggest?"

"All this could be an effort to send us out of Japan." She shakes her head in the manner of someone remembering Conan's age and Shin'ichi knows that is all he'll get on the matter. "Cool Kid, did you have another thing for me?"

"I do," says Shin'ichi. He sips his coffee, reviewing the incidents. FBI lying low; No ongoing security breach; Vermouth's unusual M.O., guided by an external party?

Speculation: Vermouth has a confidant.

The cool bitterness of his drink slides down his throat as Shin'ichi turns over the possibility.

"I heard that Bourbon knew someone in the Organization who turned out to be 'a dog of the FBI.' And when—" Conan glances around, "—when Akai-san was undercover, did he mention anything happening? Anything that might make Bourbon hate the FBI that much?"

"Let me think... there was an incident, yes. It seems Shuu took the blame after someone shot himself."

"Was that the event two years ago that caused Them to realise he was FBI?"

"No, that was something else." Jodie blinks. "I'm surprised you remember that. Didn't James tell you when Mizunashi Rena was in hospital?"

"Ahehe, I have a good memory..."

Jodie rests her head on her hands. "And we're glad to have you on our side."

"Anyway," says Shin'ichi, wary of her diving into his line of questioning, "do any of the FBI agents in Japan drive RX-7's?"

"RX-7's? Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"Someone's reported about foreigners driving RX-7's who also happen to have expired visas, or that's what Officer Yumi says—"

His phone lights up, vibrating with the notification of a new message.

Conan pockets the device and hops off the chair. "Sorry, Jodie-sensei! Thanks for today. I need to go and check this."

A shadow of hesitation touches the edge of Jodie's lip. "Be careful," she says, seeing his age again.

"I will."

He waves to the FBI agent.

She smiles at him reflexively, and waves back like close friends.

When the doorbell chimes in the early afternoon, Yuuya thinks he's prepared.

In hindsight, he will realise that no amount of preparation could ever have readied him for this introduction.

"Hi, uncle Yuuya!" chirps one disguised Edogawa Conan. He's donned a wig that shortens his hair, dull clothes, and green contacts. What looks like makeup has been used to change the shape of his brow into the distinctive Kazami arch. Something else feels like it's changed. Yuuya's eyes trail along the boy's cheeks until he identifies a peak added to a small jaw, a subtle lengthening of the face, and just enough change in proportions to draw attention away from his original bone structure.

Lastly, the inflections in the voice. The boy is not a voice artist and the sound is wrong in pitch, yet the greeting registers to Yuuya's cortex as identical to his nephew's.

Edogawa-as-Shin peers around Yuuya's legs. "May I come in now?"

He must be some kind of vampire. No human child has a stare like that.

"Vampires aren't real, Detective Kazami."

Not only is he a vampire, but a mind-reader?!

The boy smiles up at him with large eyes in the wrong colour.

Yuuya coughs. "Come in, Edo—err, Shin-kun."

The boy enters, toeing his shoes off. He follows Yuuya when shown around. He takes in every detail of the apartment, sweeping his eyes across rooms built in the common style. Yuuya isn't a messy person, and there are few unnecessary items kept out of their drawers or baskets. Yet there's a sense in the back of his mind that the boy has noticed that some thirty minutes of socially expected cleaning ballooned into one and a half hours. He found an old sock behind the safe in his closet. Washed. Further, time used on identifying any items that may be dangerous to children. Then a level of responsibility which led him to check for food which might have expired whilst he was occupied.

The boy's words break through his contemplation.

"You've been living alone since college?"

"..." Yuuya removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "That's right."

The boy nods, like he's expecting that answer, and has merely been waiting for Yuuya to confirm his correct deduction.

Edogawa-Shin steps onto the balcony. He reaches for glasses which aren't on his nose. After a pause, he pulls the glasses out from his pocket. Set over his ears, he taps the frame where the arm meets the lenses.

"As I thought, we can see Mizunashi Rena's house."

"Mizunashi Rena?" asks Yuuya.

"She was an announcer for Nichiuri TV. Isn't she on your NOC list?"

Disbelief has Yuuya choose his words. "Did Furuya-san tell you about the NOC list?"

"No. In the email sent by Curaçao, Mizunashi-san was mentioned." Edogawa-Shin speaks the combination of syllables with ease that should not be present in his age. "Her codename is Kir in the Organization."

Yuuya swallows. "There's... there's a NOC living in this neighbourhood."

"I don't think so. Gin found the tracker I planted. She's most likely moved out now."

Yuuya falls to his knees, landing on a sitting cushion, and stares at his low table without seeing it. Inhale. Breathe. The being called Edogawa Conan must require direct eye contact. Yuuya hears the wind through the open door and grows aware of the taste of his own saliva. He has never appreciated Furuya-san as much in that moment. Furuya, despite being a legend, understands the need for patient explanations. Furuya will give him and others the background to a piece of information—instead of the Edogawa who takes a path and expects ordinary men to follow him.

For years, Yuuya has been short-sighted. All of a sudden, he's aware of his glasses. For him, wearing glasses isn't a cosmetic choice...

Strange.

"There's no prescription in your lenses," Yuuya says aloud.

Edogawa stills, a human child all at once.

"Yeah," he confirms, putting the comically large frames back into his pocket. He blinks his green eyes tinted by coloured contacts. "These are made by a friend of mine. They have useful features."

He enters the room and stops next to Yuuya's shrine. Soft light from the window shines on a photo of a man and a woman, a unique snapshot of two lost lives. Fresh flowers along the base are a day old and drying out. Their fragile petals lay beside a half-melted candle burning on a stand.

"May I?" asks Edogawa quietly.

Possessed, Yuuya nods. The boy puts his hands together and bows his head. Yuuya does the same a distance apart. They share the moment, praying for the lost.

The boy takes a breath and says, "The world doesn't need a reason for people to be killed, but a detective can stop those who think they can seal another person's future with their own hands. That's why I became a detective."

"A search for justice."

"And the discovery of the truth. Only a person dedicated to being a detective can find the single truth and lay to rest all the uncertainties that surround a mysterious incident."

The words fill a moment like a drop in an endless ocean. Yuuya becomes aware of the time. At this hour, he's usually taking a walk, surveying the grocery stores for anything that might go on discount for dinner. It feels like he's witnessing the formation of a mountain, the first second of eternal life.

He looks to Edogawa and hesitates.

"I won't be staying tonight," says Edogawa, reading Yuuya's mind. Gone are his attempts to copy Kazami Shin from the photos and videos which Yuuya sent him some hours past. "Did you collect any clothes?"

Yuuya points him to the box of clothing which belonged to Kazami Shin, picked up from his relatives' house. The shirts are too big and the trousers too long, Yuuya has observed with a careful eye trained from buying clothes for Furuya-san, but the boy doesn't seem to be looking to take any items. His eyes flicker uniformly across the material, the make, and assorted details. The short wig fails to hide flashes of too-bright understanding as the child derives his incredible answers.

At last Edogawa is done, and looks up. "May I have a look in the kitchen?" he asks.

"Yes."

The child leaves.

Shin'ichi enters the kitchen.

Behind the curtain of every Kudou Yuusaku novel is a case in real life. Given the blessings of those involved, crimes are stripped to their bones, skeletons redressed from the ground up. The tradition around brainstorming sessions dictates Yukiko dress Yuusaku's characters before he pens them by his signature hand, shepherding them as the Night Baroness. Her ad lib ushers in the birth of whole souls. The reviews say his books are more than simple offerings to the dead; they are a beautiful immortalisation of love and loss. Perhaps an attempt to impart respect for tragedy is why his father would take Shin'ichi to crime scenes when they still lived in the same house.

But Shin'ichi learned none of that as a child.

Criminal activities have no artistic merit. And novels won't save a person who might be murdered. A detective like Sherlock Holmes is brilliant and practical and clever without needing to prove himself. As Shin'ichi once stepped through crime scenes on his father's heels, he was Sherlock, looking for pieces adding up. Discard speculations and assumptions. Witness the angle of scattered objects. Combine them with the position of the body to acquire a script full of possibilities, causes, derivatives. Mend every broken state with stainless steel threads of logic until all observations lead to a single result.

"In strategy it is important to see distant things as if they were close and to take a distanced view of close things."

Amidst every high-fidelity observation Shin'ichi absorbs with the keen awareness of his detective sense, Kazami Yuuya's apartment has a poster with that Miyamoto Musashi quote on it. It's among a collection of other samurai memorabilia, alongside a curious pen-shaped object with a translucent end. Nerdy, collectors' stuff. Then there's post-it notes on the fridge and a calendar marked with locations and times. His observations all conclude that Kazami is meticulous, regulated, organised. Identical bags of rice are stacked near the rice cooker and various boxes in the kitchen are marked with dates of purchase. The kitchen is arranged, quite methodically, like the rest of the house.

Shin'ichi fetches a stool, finding something in a cabinet.

Kazami finds him while he reads through documents that have fallen out.

"What are these for?" Shin'ichi asks innocently, surrounded by groceries. He flips to the next page, spotting a mention of something signed out by one Inspector Furuya Rei of Tokyo's PSB. "It looks like you're investigating Superintendent-General Hakuba, ah?"

"Those should be—"

"They were in the false back, don't worry."

"How did you—"

"Amuro-san's RX-7 has a similar gimmick in the glove box."

The documents are held out to the frozen Assistant Inspector, to demonstrate that nothing has been damaged, then Shin'ichi highlights his knowledge of the gimmick by putting them and the groceries back inside the cabinet.

"Superintendent-General Hakuba is the head of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, isn't he?" says Shin'ichi. "Are you looking from the perspective of the PSB which works in the Metropolitan Police? Or is it an order from Zero in the National Police Agency?"

"It comes from Furuya-san." Kazami's answer is resigned.

"You don't know?"

"I have no need to know."

"Then why might someone be interested in the Superintendent-General?"

"His son is half-British, currently in London. It seems that the Superintendent-General's wife has connections to Scotland Yard, and their son has been studying there to follow the path of his father. There is a possibility that the son may have brought something back on his last return to Japan. As it seems the Superintendent-General may be in consultation in regards to new counterterrorism legislation being worked on by select members of the Diet, the PSB is to keep alert against any parties attempting outside interference."

"When did you meet A— ah, Furuya-san, Detective Kazami?"

"Three years ago." Kazami adjusts his glasses. "That was when he was transferred to us."

"Did he come up with the idea to hide the documents in there?"

"No."

"What made you choose?"

"In an apartment this organised, a thief is unlikely to search the foodstuff."

Shin'ichi notes the logic. His detective's eye has learned Kazami Yuuya's personality from his living quarters, and Kazami's dedication explains Zero's confidence in bringing Shin'ichi into his plans. Kazami Yuuya is straightforward, logical, and honest. This man would be trustworthy, a pillar which Conan would be able to lean on or climb atop.

Kazami has wandered to a spot by the sink, resting against it. "Furuya-san is an amazing officer. His intelligence is intense. He embodies every principle we should have. I knew it even before I was approved to learn about his position as the director of Unit Zero."

He speaks in a way that gives Shin'ichi pause. Is Kazami's loyalty borne of personal choice or another level of scheming? With Zero, it's hard to tell.

Suddenly, a hint of brown catches his attention: a box behind some boxes. With Kazami distracted, Shin'ichi squats in front of the lowest level of a block of drawers and reaches out.

"Did you lose people to the Organization, too?" Kazami asks.

Shin'ichi glances back. The man still hasn't turned his attention to him yet. "Lose people?" Too?

The man makes an aborted gesture. "The determination you have to take them down..."

Shin'ichi finds the lock on the box is not-quite-locked. "They've taken a lot more than people from me."

His fingers trail carefully through the box and its contents. His mind filters through what he's looking at. The longer Shin'ichi stays in this building, the more he remembers that Gin took his ability to live as Kudou Shin'ichi, and that Shin is a child who has had the truth of his passing overwritten for some unknown purpose.

And that is why he cannot ignore Zero's intentions, as much as Haibara and Hattori might both be right.

"I'll find the truth," says the little detective. "I'll find out why Amuro-san has involved me in his lies. Truth will prevail and I'll be the one who brings it to light."

"Why?"

Shin'ichi thinks of Ran. Her radiance and her kindness. How she took Edogawa Conan in without asking questions.

"Do I need a reason?" he asks, lips turning outwards. "If someone doesn't need a reason to save a person's life?"

He extracts the box from the drawer, brings the stool near the sink, and hops up.

"Say, Detective Kazami," he waves to catch the man's eye.

"Uncle," Kazami corrects. Between his questions and Shin'ichi's answer, Shin'ichi thinks he's found peace about something. "Uncle, since, you're..."

Shin'ichi opens the box and lets the lid clatter loudly on the counter. Kazami straightens to attention instantly, tensing up.

Just as expected.

"No touching that!" says Kazami, moving for the sound.

"It's okay, uncle." Shin'ichi holds his hands up. "I just thought you might like to know your gun box was too full to close shut. You know those bullets," he points to the reason the box is too full, "don't fit the standard police firearm, right?"

Kazami stops.

"Model 60," Shin'ichi continues. "That's the name of the revolver used by the police, which takes rounds named '.38 Special'. But those ones in that tray are too short, they're '9mm Parabellum'. A very common caliber, not often used by the Japanese police, they must be for Furuya's P7, right?" As Kazami mutters his disbelief, Shin'ichi ignores the man's externalised monologue to say, "He must call you for help a lot."

"I... I am privileged into the secret of his identity as director of Unit Zero."

"Who else knows?"

"I would not know." Kazami goes silent. "Nobody else I know who is an officer in Tokyo."

"How can you accept this?" Shin'ichi gestures to his disguise.

"I have no reasons not to."

"You trust him that much?"

Kazami meets his eyes. "I must. We cannot function without belief. There is work that must be done."

Takagi Wataru has made it without late nights and midnight coffee runs for the last twenty-two days and still counting. Each day of leave he's chipped off has been beautiful, sorely-missed bliss. No apologetic call from Inspector Megure asking him to come in. No 'sorry to disturb you on your day off,' no 'sorry, we need you in again.' Honestly, the story of Mouri Kogorou being an unlucky death magnet has always been just a joke, because who would really wish that on anyone? Even so, all this free time has made them a little crazy if Shiratori decided to call and check in on Mouri's status during a dead period in their shift yesterday.

Oh, Conan? He's just come back from Hawaii.

Miwako left last night to take care of a family matter in Yokohama, leaving Wataru with an errand. With freedom in his legs, the cloudy sky is just as beautiful as the countryside. Wataru navigates through fields of shopfronts, browsing. A most novel sensation lingers as he steps around a cart; he turns to it looking for a present for Miwako, not to buy whatever it is that Conan-kun is asking for this time on yet another strange puzzle. He walks through clumps of people, passing homewares and jewellery and clothes and accessories. Past the next pedestrian crossing is where the food stalls are always set up. Perhaps he'll fold to the seafood sellers today and bring home a bright Pacific lobster.

A stroke of luck, really, that his mother knew where else to buy Miwako's favourite tea. The alternative is visiting Haido Shopping Mall, which is somewhere he doesn't step foot in if he can avoid it. The ferris wheel which is its main attraction is also the main monument which reminds him of Matsuda Jinpei, the officer who chose to exchange his life for thousands of others. Miwako reassures him that that chapter in her life has closed thanks to his thwarting the serial bomber, and any other time, Wataru is flattered by her complimenting his efforts.

Less impressive is how his main memory of trying to defuse the bomb in Touto Tower is stammering sentences from a bomb squad, hoping a seven-year-old could save his conscience and a city from total crisis.

—No thinking about work! Three weeks with no overtime!

Cherish it!

But there. On the opposite footpath, there's a boy walking away from him. Noticing unaccompanied children has become automatic for Wataru, who is both junior enough and friendly enough to agree to being designated babysitter in Division One. The broader joke in Investigations, of Division One soon adding childcare to their budget, is less funny considering he works in homicide and the cases involving children have largely involved them being key witnesses or trying to sneak into prohibited areas. This boy is a little taller than troublemaking Conan, and there aren't any prohibited areas here which should be monitored. A small relief goes through Wataru as he reminds himself of that.

But look closer. Something has caught his attention, though, the boy also doesn't look to be Conan. The hair is shorter, and the gait is different. Wataru is wondering what caught his attention when the boy glances around, and then it hits him.

The movements of the boy's head are the same as Conan-kun's.

It's not the first time he's made a comparison like this. The first time he met Kudou Shin'ichi, he was startled by the resemblance between the teenager and the elementary schooler who works mysteries and solves cases when nobody is watching. Twice is coincidence and three times is suspicious.

Wataru stands still, trapped between his nature and his day off. The boy disappears behind a sign, turning into a side street.

Wataru's decision is made for him.

He follows.

The shops here are made for collectors, windows stuffed with clippings and posters; colourful, eye-catching, limited pre-order items. The road here is barely wide enough for one lane of traffic. From the next road, the sounds of cars reaches his ears, as does the steady rhythmic noise of train carriages on train tracks. The tail end of a campaign slogan does its duty as it reminds the public that election season has come around again. Something about less crime, which sounds nice for the Takagi Wataru who agrees to babysit elementary schoolers and doesn't follow much news on National Diets or—anything about politics.

Though his parents ask when he'll be promoted sometimes, and... a promotion does sound nice.

The boy takes a turn into a corridor which connects to another part of the shopping district. A line of vertical poles block the entrance of the pedestrian street. No more access for cars. Wataru finds himself doubling back along the path he walked earlier, and it occurs to him that the boy has come in from the opposite entrance. And now the boy starts turning his head more often. He must be a local who knows the area but doesn't visit often enough to know the stores by heart.

Before the boy catches him, Wataru ducks behind a curtain of light autumn scarves. Sunlight shines off a row of cheap sunglasses as he peers through a gap between two mannequins, pretending to admire the headgear. The boy who resembles Conan isn't wearing glasses, Wataru notes. Something about that detail feels significant. Kudou Shin'ichi did not wear glasses when Wataru met him either.

They come to a standoff as the boy interestedly stares at a pole. It's a regular pole, nothing special. There's nothing Wataru notices on it, and though the pause lengthens, it seems to shorten their distance. Wataru, aware that his hovering is suspicious, steps briefly into the store, breaking it.

The discount shop hits him all at once with work-related memories. People keep getting creative with their murders. Sometimes it gets troublesome visiting places that sell a bunch of assorted knick-knacks when the smallest things can remind him of tragic deaths.

Focus!

He peers out of the shop and the boy has disappeared on him.

Too clever, Wataru realises. Just as Conan is too clever. But Wataru has not made it this far as a police detective without the right instincts. He's been exposed to enough of Conan's cleverness that he sees through the trick. If the boy is Conan, then he's waiting for Wataru to burst into the frame, thinking that he's gone and run ahead. Conan, bright as he is, has a habit almost as convenient for the babysitting detective Takagi, just like murderers that return to crime scenes. The boy has a need to prove and confirm things with his own eyes. The sky is blue and Conan will never willingly leave a scene alone until there are no more mysteries left on it.

Wataru goes back into the shop. He picks up a hat and takes it with him to a rack that lets him see enough of the exit. The ambient sunlight outside should darken the shop's interior, obscuring him from the target.

The standoff ends in ninety seconds. The boy exits from his hiding place in the shop directly opposite, where he would have had the best opportunity to view Wataru's face should he have run out. Instead, Wataru witnesses the boy: green eyes, a distinctive brow, longer face than Edogawa Conan's. Height would suggest the kid is somewhere between grade school and middle school, and the maturity in the eyes has him leaning to the latter.

Before Wataru can question why he's suddenly tailing a middle-schooler, the boy has hurried off again. Wataru blinks. The answer comes to him this time when he sees the gait.

If Conan wore elevator inserts, wouldn't his walk change that way?

Then the discrepancies filter down into:

1. Conan is not wearing glasses, and,

2. Inconsistencies between hair colour and face shape.

Both which can be explained if Conan is disguised.

Now ninety-nine percent sure that this person is Conan-kun, Wataru could easily stop, buy Miwako's tea, go home and enjoy the rest of his day, except the questions about why Conan might be disguised stubbornly refuses to leave. He ends up following Conan at a distance. The boy seems to have relaxed now, taking them to a shop selling clothes for young teenagers. He navigates a rack of cargo pants for a few seconds and goes inside.

Wataru sighs, released from the grip clenching firmly around his heart. A disguise. If it's a disguise, the prosthetics are astonishingly skilled, like Kaitou KID's. It's nothing like the box of hats and wigs in Division One's operating budget. Maybe all this resemblance to Conan is a coincidence. Stranger things have happened around them that three coincidences can't explain.

If Miwako is here, what will she think? Part of the reason everyone admires her is that she's often right - more than Wataru is. Particularly that one time that they were caught up in the Tanabata Kyoto case and they discovered the then-Superintendent Matsumoto had been replaced by a fake for roughly the same period; he'll never forget the moment they burst down the door to the shack and Miwako's cry: "As expected!"

Miwako has never again brought up her suspicions about an unknown party lurking in the shadows. Wataru does not like politics and has done his best to not think about the possibility.

But he's on day 22 of no overtime...

With no extra work to distract himself, he finds himself wondering...

"Hey, nii-san."

Wataru flails at the child's voice. He falls next to the cardboard stand of a mascot and onto his rear. The boy is staring at him, a bag of purchases in his hands, deeply unimpressed about where in the open Wataru chose to stop, and Wataru can't help but agree with him.

"You've been looking for me because you need to tell me something, right?" the boy says. "Can we go somewhere else?"

Wataru blinks. Oh. A small crowd has noticed the scene.

"Y-yeah," Wataru agrees. "Er, it is... it is Conan-kun, right?"

The boy blinks back.

"I'm Kazami Shin."

And that is how Wataru treats a kid to ice cream.

As the vendor is paid, he sighs. Until spotting a receipt in his wallet, he forgot how he bumped into the rest of Conan's friends on his last day off. That receipt is from when they insisted he also treat them to something.

No Pacific lobsters for dinner tonight.

The boy has started eating. Wataru joins him, taking the opposite seat at the small table inside the ice cream parlour. "It... it is you, right, Conan-kun?"

A pause.

"Yeah," is the reply.

"'Kazami'," Wataru repeats, "Wait, is that... is it that Kazami, the one from Public Safety?"

"Yes."

"Ah." Wataru rests his head in one hand. "You're Conan-kun, but you're also... Shin-kun, right? Have you... always been Shin-kun? And you — does that mean you were related to Assistant Inspector Kazami this whole time?" He stops. "No, you wouldn't be, since you're disguised... and I suppose he wouldn't need to know if you were taking his name either..."

"He knows."

"...Ah."

"I think you should have a lot of questions, Takagi-san." Wataru jumps a little, hearing the unfamiliar inflections in a voice he assumes should belong to the identity called 'Kazami Shin'. "Before I tell you, can you help me with something first? Have you noticed anything strange in the MPD, lately?"

"Strange?"

"Rumours, stories, weird cases, personnel movements."

"Well, no... though I was thinking about that one case, actually. It ended a while ago, poor Superintendent, erm, Senior Superintendent Matsumoto..."

"Case?"

"Do you remember that one case where the killer was taking revenge for a hotel fire on Tanabata in Kyoto? Well, Shindou Sumire's house, the painter's house, seemed to have been entered before us. We were stopped because our tyres blew out, well, isn't it funny that both went flat at the same time?"

"Could it have been tampered with?"

"Miwa—Sato-san felt it was suspicious, there was an overpass, you see. I think she saw a car..."

"What type of car was it?"

"No... no idea. I never asked."

"And?"

"That was the case where you and your friends discovered Superintendent Matsumoto in the park. Where he had been replaced with a fake. It seems he was captured shortly before we invited Mouri-san to advise us." Wataru pauses. "Oh."

"Oh?" Shin peers closer. "Did you remember something?"

"Speaking of other coincidences... the IoT terror attack, where Mouri-san was involved again?"

"I remember that one." The smallest of grim smiles settles on Shin's mouth. "Was it a coincidence?"

"I, well. I don't know. So much happened, and it resolved all so suddenly, and aside from that mysterious firework appearing again whenever something is in danger, nobody's quite sure what happened to the satellite... well." Wataru rubs his head, suddenly self-conscious. "The strangest cases always happen around Mouri-san, don't they?"

"I guess they do," Shin agrees. "Okay. What did you want to know, Takagi-san?"

"I don't know anything," Wataru blurts before he can stop it. "Ah. That is to say, erm... nevermind."

A light emerges in Shin's green eyes, most Conan-like, though the boy is not wearing that pair of oversized glasses. This close, Wataru can faintly discern the make-up on the boy's brow. The contacts are unnerving, and so are the shapes of the boy's features. Those green eyes draw his focus and prevent him from focusing on the details of the rest of the face.

"If it was really nothing, you wouldn't have been following me. When did you notice?"

"I don't know," Wataru lies. Isn't it weird to say that he noticed as soon as Shin appeared in his peripheral vision?

"Okay. Do you know anything about the PSB?"

"Eh?"

"Detective Kazami of the PSB was involved in investigating the IoT Terror attack, wasn't he? I don't know much about them..."

"C-Co—Shin-kun," Wataru says, in what he hopes is not too harsh of a scolding tone, "I don't know much about the PSB. They took a case or two from us, but that's how it is when you're an adult. Kazami-san was in that case with Mouri-san, and does come up with good information a lot of the time... and we in Division One don't know much about them except the rumours. As for the rumours, it's said they were involved in a restructure about three or four years ago."

"What happened four years ago?"

"It was never reported, but one of the departments in the MPD failed to prevent the death of an undercover officer. Many new restrictions came out about how officers were allowed to go undercover after that. I hear it was a horrible failure of the system, analytical and organisational. Then due to ongoing work, the family could not be informed about it." Wataru laughs sheepishly. "I wouldn't have known anything about it if Date-san hadn't been disappointed somehow."

"Date Wataru?" asks Shin. "Did Detective Date know the officer?"

"If he did, I don't know why he stuck around in Division One." Wataru laughs. "Well, I wouldn't believe the PSB was involved, Co—Shin-kun. There's another story that the PSB's lunches are the best in the precinct! If I ever transfer and find out, I'll tell you if it's true. Alright?"

The unimpressed stare coming his way from a grade schooler informs Wataru that his attempt to change the subject is noticed. Wataru's chuckling becomes sheepish. Ahh... no wonder why criminals tend to spontaneously break down and confess in front of brilliant, little Edogawa Conan-kun.

Shin lets it go by drinking his melted ice cream from his cup.

"But I don't get it, Shin-kun," says Wataru, slowly. "Why are you asking me, if you're, uhh, related to Kazami?"

"Do you believe in fairytales?"

"Um." Wataru really should be used to how Conan changes the subject by now. "I used to, but now, there's some things you grow out of, you know?"

He stops.

"You... you were always shorter than the others in your grade... you do grow, right?"

Shin shakes his head. Wataru feels a chill go down his back.

Please let him have misinterpreted the boy's confirmation.

"Well," says Wataru, trying not to dwell on the possibility of someone being immortal, as much as it makes sense in the context. Edogawa Conan always has been too smart for what his age and body implies. "Are you in danger? We can do something about it, if you just—" No, no. "We can help you, Shin-kun. You know everyone respects Satou-san, and Inspector Megure does like you. Shiratori-san has a lot of contacts and he's fond of you in his own way too."

"In other words, your rank is not high enough," Shin says quietly.

That hits like a rock on a soft place. Everyone says enough about how Miwako is older and more senior than him as is.

Thinking of Miwako reminds him of Matsuda Jinpei.

"You said you'd tell me who you are," Wataru blurts before he can stop himself. "In, in the elevator. You'd tell me in the other world. Is this," Wataru gestures to the disguise, the alternate identity, all of it, "the other world?"

The boy looks away. "It's another life."

"As Kazami Shin?"

Instead of answering, the boy pulls out a notebook and a pen. He writes something on one page and Wataru notes he's right-handed.

Then the page is ripped out, folded into four, and placed on the table.

"Read this later, Takagi-san?" Shin asks.

"Alright..." Wataru agrees. "The KID heist is tonight, right? Be careful when you're there?"

A wave of students wearing their school uniforms swarm the ice cream parlour, spilling through the door, joking amongst themselves. They talk about video games, and club activities, and teachers who mark their homework. The walls are filled with youthful spirit. School must have ended.

In the crowd, the boy disappears.

Wataru reads the note:

Need not to know.

Shin'ichi looks at the flight of stairs to the Mouri Detective Agency, a weight in his shoulders like he's carrying the world. The tension leaves his small frame once he spots the illuminated third floor. He climbs, taking out his glasses. The latex on his chin comes off next, stored carefully inside his pocket. His target is the Agency's bathroom, with a contact case stashed behind the plumbing, and a sink that can take care of the rest of his makeup. The train case with its cheery 'Mystery Box' label is locked and planted on a shelf, ready for keeping the pieces of his disguise safe. Those clothes similar to Kazami Shin's style purchased from the market have been secured in a PIN-code locker at the station to be retrieved by the Professor separately.

Shin'ichi watches the sky bleeding the inky reds and purples of sunset. T-minus 21 minutes until KID is due to arrive at the Bell Tree Tower to steal the magnificent red stone, the Garnet Lion. The news about the police's preparations seemed to follow him on the way home. People on the street occasionally glanced at him like they were asking why he's not with old man Suzuki Jirokichi. Between investigating the mystery around Amuro Tooru's abrupt withdrawal from Cafe Poirot, the lingering danger associated with a scheming Furuya Rei, and trying to stay three steps ahead of the Bourbon who knows too much, he doesn't have time for a headache of a thief who steals jewels and gives them back.

He turns the doorknob to the Agency, the light from the floor above shining reassuringly. Old man Mouri has gone upstairs. Sonoko has taken the girls out to the KID heist, and Ran would have left food for her father before she left.

Isn't Ran the safest she can be with the other women at the KID heist?

"Conan-kun?"

Conan stubs his toes on an edge.

"R—Ran-neechan?" he stammers. Hurriedly, he puts his glasses on, trying to look like he's been wearing them.

Ran's figure in the doorway is unusual. He's sure she wore shorts that morning, but what he can make out in the half-light is a shadowy silhouette with a bulky mass just right of her torso. A person hiding a pistol behind a handbag.

The woman moves and Shin'ichi's eyes dart to a small bruise under her wrist. Ran got that from training yesterday.

It's Ran, holding a jacket under one arm.

Shin'ichi swallows thin relief. "W-Why are you here, Ran-neechan?"

"Kazuha-chan was feeling cold all day, and the forecast said it would get windy soon," Ran answers. "I came to get her a coat as she didn't bring one."

Shin'ichi's heartbeat picks up as Ran peers closer, her expression twisting in a way he might call 'cute' if it's not currently examining his face. His wig has been removed, but his makeup is still on. So are the contacts. His fringe and the glasses and the shadows might hide them some—

"Is there something wrong, Conan-kun?" she says. "Actually, have you heard from Hattori-kun? None of us have been able to get through to him..."

"Um... I saw on social media that Heiji-niichan got into a scuffle and his phone was damaged."

"A scuffle!"

"He, he wasn't hurt." Conan tries to smile in reassurance. "S—so you can, um, go back to Kazuha-neechan and, and Heiji-niichan should call her back... soon?"

"Did something happen?"

"What? N...no. Heiji-niichan might just, is probably just being stupid, investi—uhh, investigating—"

"Actually, this is good timing," She closes the door, trapping them in the staircase. The sound of the lock clicking shut deafens him. Shin'ichi gulps at the hard determination in his girlfriend's eyes. "I wanted to talk to you, Conan-kun. You've been weird ever since you got back from Hawaii. No... you've been weird ever since Murgatroid-san came to find you. You... you have all this family, and none of them are ever around, aren't they? Do any of them know you keep ending up in danger?"

"Ran-neechan..."

Her eyes are clouded. "You always go to the KID heist, Conan-kun. Since you haven't, it means... it means you really are helping Shin'ichi with something, like Hattori-kun is, aren't you?"

"Um... yeah. He asked me to look something up—"

"Shin'ichi did?" Ran's outburst startles him. "He... he and dad always ask you to do things for them when you're just a kid, Conan-kun. I didn't... I didn't realise how much I got used to you being here until you went to Hawaii." She hesitates. "Isn't it weird? I started missing him after you left, Conan-kun. I started missing him because I was missing you."

Shin'ichi swallows.

Ran's fingers curl loosely. "It'll be two years since he left, can you believe it? I always thought, you know, thought that we would graduate together. And I... I..."

"Ran..."

"I don't want you to keep getting hurt." Her gaze goes hard, and she kneels with the intent of looking at him eye-to-eye. "I think something changed in Hawaii. You were visiting Shin'ichi's villa, right? Shin'ichi's parents always take such good care of you and your friends when they come visit..." She stops. "That's—oh, Conan-kun, could it be that—that the reason you're always helping Shin'ichi - because you're—?"

Footsteps. A third presence.

Sharp-featured Okiya Subaru glances up at the young woman and her charge, his soft hair framing the ever-present enigmatic smile.

"Oh, my," Okiya says softly. "Excuse me."

Ran stands up, tense. Belatedly, Shin'ichi deduces Okiya's silent approach is what has her wary of further surprises.

"The Agency is closed," she says with a warning note. "If you're here for dad, please come back tomorrow."

"No, I was here for Conan. Is this a bad time, miss?"

Ran with all her reflexes has always been faster at reacting to things. She notices Okiya dropping the -kun the moment Shin'ichi does. While Shin'ichi is caught up, working through the motive behind the implication, she's staring between them now, frowning.

"Who are you?" she asks.

"I asked him to pack," Okiya answers.

"You did?"

Okiya hesitates. He appears genuinely taken aback by the question. Shin'ichi would have believed it had he not noticed the sliding of one shoe indicating that sure-footed Akai Shuuichi is acting.

Ran doesn't notice. "You're taking him," she accuses, narrowing her eyes.

"Ran-neechan, I can explain," Shin'ichi tries.

She flinches as she becomes reminded of his presence. She looks between them, her arms taut, her curled fingers forming fists.

"No," she whispers breathlessly.

"Conan, didn't you need to use the bathroom?" says Okiya.

Eyes closed, the weight of Akai's stare still silences Shin'ichi's reflex to protest.

Behind him, Ran's voice breathes, "I don't believe it..."

"I suppose it's difficult. Please, let me explain... though I think you've already realised. Conan and I have known each other since before I started living at the Kudou's. I may look young, but I inform you... it's true. I am old enough to be his father."

Ran gasps.

Conan leaves, slipping past her and into the dark of the Agency while she's surprised.

Opening. It's an opening, this cover story created by Akai. An opportunity for Shin'ichi to get rid of his disguise as originally planned. Dressed in the identity of a lie, Edogawa Conan is just another lie worn as skin. His head swims in another level of guilt for misleading Takagi, who believes in Conan, and offers his help consistently.

Shin'ichi scrubs off the makeup beneath the bathroom's cool bar of light, removes the green contacts, and puts all his supplies into the Mystery Box train case with its cantilevered sides.

Noticing the Agency has been lit up, Shin'ichi sets the train case down. He steps onto it, making sure his weight is supported by the nearby sink, and the extra bit of height is enough to properly grip the doorknob. A careful twist opens the bathroom door by the smallest of cracks. Quickly he hops off and ducks out of the way in case his clothing creates noticeable breaks in the shadow. Into the gap he slips in the thin mirror he removed from within the train case's lid. Switch his smartphone camera to portrait mode, line it up with the mirror, and the periscope is complete. Push two fingers to zoom in on the scene. The Agency's light is on because the other two have moved into the sitting area.

Akai has taken the farthest sofa, next to the television, while Ran is opposite in the seat most commonly used by Kogorou's clients.

"I see," Ran says, pale from the blood which has left her face. "You're an FBI agent."

"That's correct. I am in hiding, however after hearing about the kidnapper who took Conan, I had to come to Japan. Originally I was planning to take him in but I haven't seen him so happy since he started staying with you. I had a word with the Kudous if they might let me watch over my son."

"That's why you're living in Shin'ichi's house..."

"Yes."

"And how Conan has been so friendly..."

"That's right."

Ran clenches her fists over her knees and stares at the low table. It's all making sense. She opens her mouth and closes it, no words nor questions left.

Finally she says: "Are you taking him back?"

"I saw on the website that your office would be closed for a short while. Seeing as I now have accommodation, I would like to."

"I... see."

"I can't promise I'll care for him as well as you have, Ran-san. I thank you deeply."

"Poor Conan-kun... his father is in the FBI, and his mother is never around because she's doing important work for Interpol..."

The door makes a sound as Conan tiptoes out of the bathroom. He stretches up on his feet to close it.

Ran drops down next to him, giving him a once-over. "Do you know that man, Conan-kun?"

Conan nods.

"Do you trust him?" she asks next.

Conan glances briefly at Okiya, then nods again.

Of all the things Shin'ichi expects, it's not for Ran to suddenly pull him into the tightest of hugs. He rests his small hand on her back and feels the muscles between her shoulders shaking.

"I'm so sorry, Conan-kun," she whispers. "I... I didn't wonder why you might be so familiar or interested with police work. I should have..."

"It's okay."

"It's true, isn't it? That Shin'ichi's parents have been parents to you too. That's why - why they left Shin'ichi to go to America when he was in middle school—"

Conan dodges the subject. "I'm sorry to make you worry, Ran—Ran-neechan."

All at once she's tense again, just like she was after Shin'ichi vanished after the first time he planned to confess. He'd needed Haibara to remind him his life would be short. He should have died in the cave, if Ran hadn't been there to offer her blood and save him.

She's upset again. He's made her sad again.

"You can cry whenever you feel like it," Shin'ichi promised once.

She lets go of him and wipes under her eyes.

"Okay," says Ran. She smiles and it's like everything in the universe has waited for her to show that face. Conan's little heart beats faster and Shin'ichi is struck with a thought that she's already forgiven him. "Call me if you want to come back, and I'll convince dad. Alright?"

Conan nods once more as Shin'ichi tries to grasp the end of her kindness. She's always like this. And he always...

Ran gets to her feet. She reaches for his hand, and Conan takes it.

By the window, Okiya stares into the light left on the horizon after the sunset. Shin'ichi looks into it and spots police helicopters swarming through the buildings. Kaitou KID has made his distant appearance.

Okiya looks back at Conan's approach and addresses Ran. "What you agreed about Kudou Shin'ichi..." he begins.

"Yes," says Ran. "I... that idiot should have told me. But I... I'll understand."

"Of that, I have no doubts."

"Thank you, Okiya-san. Conan-kun, do you need help packing your stuff?"

Shin'ichi agrees. It's not to spend more time with her. It's so he can make sure she really will be fine.

He tries to convince himself it's that.

"Bye, Conan-kun."

Her figure is small as she leaves, taking her coat back to the heist where her other friends are.

On the sidewalk, Akai lights a cigarette.

"Sorry, boy." He indicates the smoke. "I need it to wash out the lies."

The fact that this man is here is not mysterious. "Jodie must have told you that I met with her, which made you find me," says Shin'ichi, "but why did you have to lie?"

"You aren't the best at it." Akai tilts his head back. "Isn't that right?"

"Then you know..."

"I know that you, Edogawa Conan, are covering for Kudou Shin'ichi in his absence, with some help." He taps at his own neck. Shin'ichi's heart sinks at the suggestion that Akai knows of his voice changing bow tie. "Why? I do not presume to guess. In the meantime, I told her not to call Kudou-kun, seeing as you are currently in possession of Kudou Shin'ichi's phone number."

It takes a moment. Perhaps it's an indication of how many times Shin'ichi has found himself in life-or-death, identity reveal situations, how he no longer panics. It's not an accusation.

As Conan stares, Akai opens one eye. "Of course that could suggest that you are, in fact Kudou Shin'ichi, but until I receive more decisive evidence, stopping at this conclusion is certainly enough to avoid the additional questions to which I have no answers."

The half-burned cigarette is extinguished, the subtle tension in the sniper's frame gone. "Considering that you asked Jodie, it seems you have noticed something's happening. What you need to know is that, after you went overseas, the Kudou mansion has been filled with that woman's bugs. Her tapping of the house and your removal from Japan is part of the plan of that mystery novelist, Kudou Yuusaku. Yukiko-san allowed me to pretend to be your father, if it became necessary."

He indicates vaguely into the distance.

"Camel is in that building. By now he should be in the process of bringing over the car. Let's meet up."

Akai picks up the bag which Ran had helped Conan pack, and Conan hurries on short legs as they start heading off.

"Does that woman know who you are?" Shin'ichi asks, referring to Vermouth and the Okiya Subaru disguise.

"Not yet." Akai sends a glance at Poirot as they pass the shop. "She wouldn't know me as well as a certain someone with no further reason to remain because Mouri Kogorou has ceased being interesting for three months. They've done us a favour, extracting the only person who might find out."

"Was that uncle Yuusaku's plan?"

"Part of it. Yes." Akai eyes him for a moment, then adds, "If Jodie couldn't satisfy your curiosity, boy, you should have time to ask me one more question before Camel arrives."

Why mention Jodie? Shin'ichi wonders, thinking back.

'I heard that Bourbon knew someone in the Organization who turned out to be "a dog of the FBI." And when-when Akai-san was undercover, did he mention anything happening? Anything that might make Bourbon hate the FBI that much?'

'Let me think... there was an incident, yes. It seems Shuu took the blame after someone shot himself.'

'Was that the event two years ago that caused Them to realise he was FBI?'

'No, that was something else. I'm surprised you remember that.'

Shin'ichi frowns. Is there something there that Akai wants Conan to find out? If that's the case, then it must be something which Akai can't tell him directly. Embarrassment? Shame? What kind of shame can an internationally feared sniper carry close to his heart?

Being discovered?

Being blamed for someone else's death?

'It was never reported, but one of the departments in the MPD failed to prevent the death of an undercover officer. Many new restrictions came out about how officers were allowed to go undercover after that. I hear it was a horrible failure of the system, analytical and organisational. Then due to ongoing work, the family could not be informed about it.'

Shin'ichi knows that Bourbon is looking for Akai. But in the incident involving Curaçao, Zero was Furuya trying to get back the NOC list, not Bourbon looking for prestige within the Organization. If there's history linking Furuya and Akai, that becomes a reasonable explanation for why Shin'ichi found them attacking one another on the ferris wheel despite being on the same side.

Kazami conveyed the suggestion of a reasonable working relationship between Washington and the PSB when they were in the Blue Parrot...

A personal hatred would explain why Furuya risked blowing his cover to demand the FBI get out of Japan.

"A NOC," Shin'ichi breathes. "Was the person who died, the one Jodie mentioned, an officer from the Japanese police?"

Akai sweeps aside the bangs covering his cheekbones on one half of his face. He turns to Shin'ichi with heavy arms and a downturned mouth.

"His name was Scotch," says Akai. "He was at risk of being discovered and killed himself before I got him out." His hands move to light another cigarette. He appears to notice the movement and his arms drop. "The three of us were in the same squad before it happened. There was a strangeness about those two. Their familiarity seemed like they were classmates."

At last a car appears. Akai straightens to his full height.

"Bourbon's reaction had me realise we might have been a team of NOCs."

"Was it to monitor you?" Shin'ichi asks.

The vehicle pulls up, an unmarked sedan with stock rims, boring white.

"I wouldn't know. As an aside," Akai adds as he opens the back door, gesturing for Shin'ichi to go in first, "While your instincts are frightening, they leave you open to one weakness." He walks around the back and knocks on the trunk. There's a pause as the bags are deposited, then Akai is entering the car and closing the door behind him. "Do not go out of your way to find evidence if the other party is bluffing."

"Bluffs, Akai-san?" Camel asks from the driver's seat. Shin'ichi has already confirmed the interior lines up with a second hand car.

"Camel," Akai acknowledges. "Why don't you catch the boy up to speed for us?"

"Akai-san?"

He deactivates the voice changer and sinks into the back seat. "Sorry. It appears I've become tired."

The rear-view mirror shows a flash of a wry smile on the broad planes of Camel's face. "Always making us look bad, Akai-san. You work the hardest out of all of us."

"My bad, my bad."

"Well, Conan-kun. If you remember the attempted assassination of Domon Yasuteru, we're doing something similar. Kudou Yuusaku wanted us, the FBI, to visibly guard the Mouri Detective Agency. Make it look to Vermouth like you leaving the country was a trap. As the Kudous suspected, Vermouth recognised it was a trap, and she picked a different target to gather information from first... the Kudou house. We also know she hasn't figured out who Akai is disguised as because the Kudou's house would have been destroyed, not wiretapped. And before you ask why the Kudous, that's something I don't know about."

Shin'ichi doesn't need to. Edogawa Conan temporarily left after Yukiko visited Teitan High. Vermouth, who snuck into a police meeting while Superintendent Matsumoto was Irish, is cautious enough to consider research and surveillance. The Vermouth who disguised as Dr. Araide might still have access to his high school records, and if she asked Teitan Elementary, she would have known he went to Hawaii. She knows they have a villa in Hawaii and that Yukiko is in on Conan's plans. With Yukiko involved, Yuusaku is surely the same.

Hence, she would first monitor and gather intelligence from the Kudous' house.

"To set up a situation where we can feed false information. It really is a plan by a mystery novelist, huh?" Camel laughs.

"They don't recognise it," Akai says. "That will keep them wary until they identify the style."

"Speaking of style, in Domon Yasuteru's assassination, I'm still impressed by how you predicted them to make Conan-kun's actions appear like an FBI operation."

"They may be ruthless, but they are still human."

Shin'ichi spots a familiar building. "Are we driving in circles, Agent Camel?"

"I don't got any instructions," says Camel. "Except 'no parking' back there."

"You can stay with me at the Kudous', Conan-kun," says Akai. "Though I can't guarantee it will be a safe house. There's also next door at Agasa's, or going back to the Mouri's. Where would you like to go?"

Shin'ichi thinks.

The streets go past.

"Can the FBI keep watching over the Agency?" he asks.

"We can," Akai replies.

"Then protect them, Akai-san. Work with the Professor to cover for me when I'm not attending school as dropping out will also attract Vermouth's attention."

"I see. You're investigating something."

"I am." Bourbon's motive. "If the FBI keeps watching the Agency, it'll be harder for Vermouth to notice I've left." And keep them safe. Gin should never have gotten as close as the opposite roof. Shin'ichi owes the Mouris' lives to Akai. "Drop me off at the Professor's. And..."

"And?" asks Akai, as the car re-routes onto its new path to Professor Agasa's house.

"To predict Bourbon. Do you have advice?"

Akai raises his eyebrows. "You're looking for his motive, boy. Alright. Recall he wore my face for a period."

"Yes. To see if the FBI knew you were still alive."

"I've suspected other motivations. It's easy to send a false text message - far easier, when he already knew they were FBI. He must have had other reasons for choosing to be disguised. You appear to be trained to find a single truth. His behaviour is consistent with someone who holds multiple truths at once. If I am to guess... his other reasons would be to learn which areas I frequented, and to become used to wearing masks while performing everyday tasks."

"Three reasons," says Shin'ichi. "He likes the number three."

Akai smiles, the shadow in his eyes unkind. "So it seems he has a habit."

In the front, Camel shudders.

"Dunno how you do it, Akai-san. I mean everything. I can't even lie to my family—just told them I went to Nevada and never called back."

"Being a spy runs in my blood."

"I suppose that's why I'm an agent, not a spy."

"Anyone who goes into the business for glory will never last more than a dozen years, Camel." Akai looks outside. "Spies and agents, we all think something is right. We make what we can with what we have.

"Sometimes we live, and sometimes... we die."

The memories fall thick and fast

And they are my guidepost to tomorrow

[ TWIN BIRD - TRUE ]

Bzzt-bzzt. Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt.

"Yo, Kudou!" Hattori's voice crows through the line.

"About time," growls Shin'ichi, concern making him more annoyed than he otherwise intends to sound. "Why'd it take you so long? You weren't even in the accident!"

"Look, long story. Tell ya later. Listen."

"What?"

"I figured out which one's yer fake."

"What?"

"Two kids were on a field trip to Lake Biwa. Both went missing, an' when the rescuers found 'em, only one survived."

"Wait," Shin'ichi puts down his measuring equipment and hurriedly looks for his notebook. He glances upstairs from the space he's borrowed in the basement as he places his pen to paper. Neither the Professor nor Haibara seem to be around, which suits him fine. "Go."

"Lake Biwa's a popular tourist destination, right? There was a lotta rain that year, ya see. Flooding and landslides, the whole lot. Unluckily for them, it looks like their elementary school went ahead with the trip regardless. Luckily for us, it being an elementary school trip meant the kids were wearin' name tags."

"Then..."

"Bingo. One of 'em was yer 'Amuro Tooru'. The other one was Furuya Rei."

"And? Why did you go to Chubu then?"

"I had ta get a copy of the original papers ta find both their names, sheesh." Hattori huffs. "Say 'thank you', you demanding ass."

Shin'ichi rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Hattori. You're amazing."

"Damn right."

"Who lived?" asks Shin'ichi, trying to ignore the layer of gooseflesh building up on his arms.

"Amuro Tooru," says Hattori. "Amuro Tooru survived, because Furuya Rei was the one who died."

A/N: Let me have Kazami as a samurai nerd that learned English from Doctor Who. It suits his officer personality from M20 and mixes in some of the characterisation in ZTT...!

Kazami's quotes are from Miyamoto Musashi and the manga Rurouni Kenshin. The difference between Furuya's two ranks (Inspector Furuya & Director of Unit Zero) is my way of explaining why he keeps driving up a huge repair bill in expenses. Guy's stuck on a reduced paycheck...

M22 subs refer to a "NPA's PSB" (dub: Security Police), as opposed to the Tokyo "MPD's PSB" (dub: Public Safety). This fic will be referring to the Tokyo-level one as "the PSB" and the National-level one as "the Security Bureau" to better distinguish them. Too many acronyms make alphabet soup, let's avoid that.

Sidenote: I'm printing finished fics! If you like pretty books, come visit the website fluxfiction =dot= ink.

Next Conan's hint: Body double

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