A/N: Hi there. I'm writing this because there was no M24 and I needed content xD
This version I'm posting on FFNet is edited for 1. nicer quality and 2. no pairings.
In this 'verse, movies are all canon, and spoilers go up to the end of E942/C1008, Maria-chan's case.
Fallout is such a great fic, I can't believe it's been so long since M13 came out. I hope I do my inspiration justice!
Approach of Absolute ZERO
by fluxfiction
1. His who is gone
There are never fewer stars in the sky as there are on a KID heist.
The blinding glare of floodlights swallows any strays escaping from the moonlight. A lamp beams through a window and into Conan's eyes. After learning how Kaitou KID hid himself in the teleportation heist, it looks like someone's appropriated the assets of the riot squad to bolster the defensive line.
From the hallway outside the jewel room, Conan watches another pair of officers stumbling into one another.
Inspector Nakamori, you've outdone yourself this time, he thinks. Isn't this—
"Isn't this a bit too much?" A voice remarks.
That's Shin'ichi's line said aloud. He turns.
"Amuro-san!"
The blond man walks up, his hands in his trousers, genial smile adorned, visible even from profile. He pings differently at Shin'ichi's detective sense tonight and Conan inspects him, carefully, in much the same manner as his idol Holmes would. There are traces of flour frosting snowy peaks on jacket cuffs. Dark jeans, ironed after washing, tuck into smart yet comfortable black shoes, the type that can support a wide range of activities. The shape of Amuro's hair, falling down over a deep charcoal-coloured sweater, holds a gentle wave that can be explained by wearing a helmet or a cap.
Delivery...?
Oh. No.
Shin'ichi realises it's simpler than that.
"You seem busy today, Conan-kun," says Amuro.
"Not as busy as you, Amuro-san," responds Conan.
"Really? Why would you say that?"
Conan gives his best little-kid grin. "You're wearing all black!"
Amuro crouches, disturbing his jacket - and there it is. The shape of a gun, clear for Conan to make out.
Inwardly, Shin'ichi expresses a sigh of relief. Neither Sonoko nor Ran are in the crowd tonight. Shin'ichi can't imagine explaining to Kyougoku why his girlfriend might have been hurt under his watch. And Ran...
The possibilities are too unpleasant to think about. The Bourbon who's hunted Sherry is out again tonight.
Shin'ichi shakes it off.
"What brings you here, Amuro-san?" he asks, still as Conan. "I didn't think you were the kind of detective who likes KID heists. Are you here with—" he drops his voice, "—the PSB?"
"The PSB? You sure know some big words. What's that?"
"Are you here for KID?" Conan persists.
"Little children shouldn't think so much about matters like that."
Amuro's voice holds a cluelessness that catches Conan off-guard. Isn't the costuming a reference to the Black Organization, which wears always black? Unless... Shin'ichi recalls the dark colours glimpsed off Kaitou KID's civilian disguise at the teleportation heist. Approaching him on the second day, the phantom thief slipped an audio bug into Conan's clothes, all while keeping Shin'ichi motionless at the point of a card gun. Employees changed into uniform at Poirot; can't the shape of Amuro's hair be from a folded wig? How easily can a thief steal the real Amuro's jacket, not realising that Amuro went out of his way to never wear completely black...?
A new hand falls onto Conan's shoulder. Familiarity with the grip sends needles shooting up his spine. Conan twists his head and sees the splitting image of his older self.
Behind Kudou Shin'ichi's face, Kaitou KID grins back.
"Yo, Conan," says KID.
Just as Amuro stands back up.
For a moment, Conan's vision is filled with sweeping floodlights. It's not the first time KID has shown up as Shin'ichi to his own heist. Conan blinks off the beams searching for their missing actor, and on the stage called a hallway, a scattering of dust motes in the window resembles a starry galaxy.
Shin'ichi is struck with the feeling that he's overlooked something significant.
"Hello," Amuro says pleasantly, "You must be Kudou Shin'ichi."
KID does a marvellous impression of Shin'ichi assessing a newcomer, complete with a mildly-delayed smile following the Holmesian eye-scan. "Sorry, I don't believe we've met...?"
"Amuro Tooru. I work at Cafe Poirot below the Mouri Detective Agency. Mouri Ran talks about you often. And, I believe you've been in touch helping Conan-kun with all his cases." As Conan watches, Amuro too is taking in Kaitou KID's body language with a practised eye. "I must say I didn't expect to see you in person. Are you the kind of detective who likes KID heists?"
"Generally speaking, mysteries are what I like," replies KID. "While I do indulge in the occasional KID heist, I can't say I enjoy them as much as the KID Killer does! Isn't that right, Conan?"
The full attention of three-faced Amuro Tooru lands back on Shin'ichi's person. Shin'ichi makes a realisation.
"You," Shin'ichi breathes.
KID kneels with a victorious glint deep in his disguise. "What was that, Conan?"
Still staring, Shin'ichi confirms that this isn't the disguise used on the ride back up to the Suzuki airship, where he sat close enough to the thief that he could observe patches of makeup hiding hastily-cobbled prosthesis. This is the disguise from Singapore, the Kudou Shin'ichi mask which passes under close scrutiny, textured with care, dressed with little delicate freckles and wrinkles and pores.
The illusion is perfect.
The official cover - what Amuro is expecting - is that Kudou Shin'ichi and Edogawa Conan are cousins. If Conan isn't careful with how he reacts to cousin Shin'ichi, Amuro Tooru's sharp nose will pick out all the wrong clues and questions.
That bastard...!
"Ehh... Aahh..." Shin'ichi haws, rubbing at his face in a way to mouth 'damn you' without Amuro seeing him, "I was just thinking, aren't you supposed to be working on a case right now, Shin'ichi-niichan? Is it really okay that you're here to help?"
"Yep! No worrying about that. It's been a long time. I wanted to see you and Ran."
"You could have called ahead."
The fake Shin'ichi's grin is definitely a little too much Kaitou KID. "That wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"
The real surprise, Shin'ichi thinks, is Kaitou KID willingly appearing in front of Bourbon, who tried to shoot him once.
But then again. Here is a thief dressed in white. Some people get free passes because the insanity scale cannot measure them in the first place.
"Do you think you could convince Inspector Nakamori to let me see the jewel?" KID asks.
"Ehh? But I haven't seen it either, Shin'ichi-niichan," says Conan.
"Here's a lesson, Conan-kun. Sometimes you'll find that you can get a long way as a detective by asking. Believe in yourself as the KID Killer, okay?"
Shin'ichi fully believes that after he walks them in, KID will switch the jewel for a fake.
"I'll try, Shin'ichi-niichan," promises Conan.
He can hear the thief laughing in a stolen voice. Something like: "Consider this payback for tricking me on the Mystery Train!"
Who knew that aiding and abetting a criminal would be added to Shin'ichi's to-do list today?
Still thinking of ways to make the star of tonight's show appear ahead of schedule, Shin'ichi sends Amuro an assessing glance. Shin'ichi can't say his plans have all been perfect since being shrunk, but he likes to think they have been getting better. An inkling of an idea manifests, if Amuro plays along.
If.
Is today the nebulous Amuro-san, or the Amuro-san with an agenda?
Amuro is staring at the back of Kaitou KID's head. "You've been missing for a while, Kudou-san. Haven't you?" His voice is cold, lowering the temperature of the room.
Shin'ichi doesn't like his chances.
"I've taken the liberty of doing an investigation," continues Amuro. "In April, shortly after the school year began, you attended classes for a little over two weeks. Since then, you have been missing, presumed dead, until appearing at a school play written by Suzuki Sonoko-san, and then, recently, attending a school excursion to Kyoto. This discounts the possibility of you having moved overseas to join Kudou Yuusaku-san and Kudou Yukiko-san, your parents, who are working on various projects in America. Your presence at school events and your pale complexion thereby leaves me to believe you have remained in the country with little exposure to strong sunlight.
"The consensus is this: I believe you are supposed to be in hiding, though I must say, you are doing a very poor job of it."
KID-as-Shin'ichi blinks. He takes in a slow breath, spinning to look up at Amuro from where he's crouched in front of Conan. "Who... are you?"
"Sorry, did I not introduce myself?" Amuro smiles darkly. "Amuro Tooru, detective. And..."
Bang.
A muzzle flash.
The P232 semi-automatic pistol disappears into a dark jacket.
"—the person who will be killing you tonight."
All radios in the hallway activate at once.
"Who fired that round?" Inspector Nakamori's roar carries over static. "You! Get these lights turned off!"
"But what if that's KID's plan—" begins a second voice.
Nakamori cuts the chaos. "Do as I say!"
Shin'ichi's head fills up with white noise, the sight of seeing his own doppelganger shot within arms' length suddenly too much. Situational analysis fails; his brain response has simply... stopped. His head spins. His hairs raise, skin cold beneath his clothing.
Time slows. Shin'ichi takes in the expressions flashing across the fake Shin'ichi's face.
As Shin'ichi's body falls, for the briefest instant, he forgets he's Edogawa Conan.
"Consider this a warning," says Amuro.
Conan looks up at the figure in black and growls. "Bourbon..."
"I'm disappointed in you, Silver Bullet," Amuro continues, except his voice has changed into a woman's. A woman's voice like... Vermouth. "Without a bullet, a gun is useless."
The blue in Amuro's eyes solidifies into ice.
Shin'ichi wakes.
Gasping for air, he finds one of his hands clutched over his chest and the other hovering as if to catch somebody. The bedroom one floor above the Mouri Detective Agency comes into focus, fuzzy shapes illuminated by a faint slip of moonlight. Shin'ichi follows the light with his eyes and closes them at the sight of dust motes hovering along the curtain. When he swallows, his ears crackle above a racing heartbeat. He focuses on breathing, steadying his breath, and lets the frequencies of Kogorou's snoring ground him.
Transcribe the notes. Treat it like... like a code.
Time passes, and slowly, Shin'ichi's breathing returns to normal. Once he's no longer watching the image of himself being killed, he rubs his face and sighs.
Thank you, uncle.
He gets up, toeing his feet into his slippers. Mindful of his dry lips, he heads to the kitchen for a glass of water.
The water is clean and crisp, cleansing what remains of fear and blind adrenaline.
When Conan lowers himself back into his futon, he bumps into something.
The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
He groans.
"No more reading mysteries before bed. Got it."
Almost a year ago, Shin'ichi was shot in the abdomen. It's an occupational safety hazard of being a mystery magnet, happened in a cave while he was Conan, and ended with a grown Shin'ichi asking Ran out on their first date in an expensive, 30th floor restaurant.
Groggy, rubbing at his face and absently tracing the line of scar tissue underneath his shirt, Conan pushes against the fog in his head just as a chime rings from the door.
"Conan-kun, could you get that?" says Ran, juggling a pan on the stove and balancing her phone.
She's pretty today. Not that she's never pretty. Her hair falls loosely over her shoulder, half of it caught under the loop of her apron.
Shin'ichi crosses the floor, reminiscing. He made Ran a promise that he'd come back even if it cost him his life. At the door, Conan reaches up to the handle and twists the lock. While Shin'ichi did come back to her, in London, and then Kyoto, his dream ungratefully reminded him that it's only a matter of time until somebody dies.
Geez, he thinks as he twists the doorknob, I'm spending too much time around Haibara.
An unfamiliar woman on the other side lights up when she sees him. Conan's first conclusions are: this is someone in disguise, it's a kidnapper, or it's Kaitou KID.
Conan stares at the woman with bags under his eyes. With his luck, it might just be all of the above.
"Conan-chan! Oh, you look terrible—" she fusses.
Long light blonde hair (ombre roots; originally dark brown), hazel eyes (circle lenses; fashion contacts), purple-tinted glasses (in the midst of changing colour; photochromic lenses reacting to light exposure), a pale utility purse (a familiar model; "Bigger on the inside!"), dressed for the weather in a soft blouse suited to summer.
As he observes her, his hand drifts to his wrist.
"No need for your watch, alright? Your mother sent me in her place," the unfamiliar woman continues. She pulls a trick like Shin'ichi had in his dream, hiding her face behind her purse to wink and mouth 'It's me,' like only his mother can.
Or Vermouth.
Or Kaitou KID.
That's sure narrowed down his options.
Not by too much.
Ran appears in the doorway. "Good morning! Are you here for my father, Mouri Kogorou? I'm sorry, he seems to be still asleep. If it's an emergency, I'll go get him..."
"Not at all! No need, I apologise to disturb you so early... no need to trouble yourself. I'll make my introduction." She dips into a soft curtsey, lifting the edges of her marigold skirt. "My name is Murgatroid Alice, and I am an English relative of Edogawa Conan's cousin's brother-in-law." Looking at Shin'ichi, she fishes out a letter folded into thirds from her purse, handing it over. "Conan-chan, your father asked me to give you this."
Conan takes it and peeks. Kudou Yuusaku's handwriting is scrawled on it.
In that case, this woman is definitely his mother.
"Thank you, Murgatroid-san," Conan says politely.
Yukiko's fingers twitch. "I told you, Conan-chan. You can call me Alice-neechan."
Shin'ichi shrugs and hops back inside, clutching his message. Kogorou's voice comes from the bathroom as he sings the newest Okino Youko single in the shower, and Conan detours to the bedroom for some old fashioned concentration.
Pulling The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes onto his lap, he unfolds the letter against the cover.
The cipher is easy. The code itself isn't hard to unravel in his head either. He reads the unscrambled English, committing it to memory, then rips the letter into pieces he'll burn later.
He emerges to find Ran setting out egg rolled omelette, talking with Yukiko, who seems to have declined both waiting in the office and Ran's hospitality.
On her part, Ran is doing a marvellous job pretending this foreigner's request to remain in their living space is not abnormal.
"Conan-kun, have you finished washing your face?" asks Ran.
"Uncle Kogorou was using the shower," Conan answers.
"Ah... come eat." She hands him a set of chopsticks as he takes a seat at the low table. "You should have told us that Alice-san would be coming today to pick you up."
Shin'ichi blinks. "Eh?"
"Kids these days are forgetful," Yukiko reminisces. "Curriculums in schools have become so advanced, I can't blame him in the slightest. Conan-chan, your mother is worried you're falling behind, you know."
"No, no," says Ran, "Conan-kun is a genius! Kobayashi-sensei always has glowing things to say about him, Alice-san. I don't think there will be any problems with the school if Conan-kun has to attend a wedding."
"Is that so? I'll let Fumiyo-san know there's nothing to be worried about," says Yukiko.
"Wedding?" Shin'ichi prompts. "What wedding?"
"The reason I dropped by, Conan-chan," Yukiko answers. "Surely, you won't say you'll want to miss Mugatroid Alice-neechan's beautiful get-together in Hawaii?"
Shin'ichi already has a bad feeling.
After a very fast breakfast, the two undercover Kudous enter the top of the staircase outside the Mouri's apartment. The door closes, leaving them alone in the landing. Shin'ichi inspects it for anything out of the ordinary in case their blond part-timer has dropped off some listening devices.
Nothing.
"Murgatroid Alice," Shin'ichi mutters, "Amy Murgatroyd, from Agatha Christie's A Murder Is Announced. What's 'Alice'?"
While he searched, his mother has been fiddling with her purse. On a closer look, it is the same model that Kudou Yukiko is known to patronise, since it looks smaller outside than the amount of contents it can retain. Shin'ichi knows that Yuusaku has borrowed it once, testing if it can hold a chef's knife, and yes.
Yes it can.
Yukiko fishes out a folding fan.
"Alice in Wonderland, of course," says his mother. "You're getting sloppy."
"I'm starting to wonder if you didn't come as Edogawa Fumiyo because you wanted me to call you 'nee-san'."
"Geez!" she pouts, breaking character. "How rude. You can be a bit nicer than that to your mother."
Shin'ichi eyes her fanning herself and deduces her new disguise is to do with a reluctance to wear a padded suit in warm, wet weather.
"What's this about a wedding in Hawaii?" asks Shin'ichi, getting to the topic.
"Did you get your father's message?"
"Yeah." Shin'ichi mentally calls the note up again. "Using my birthday as the key, the decoded message says: The crow strikes a spider with five eyes. 'Five eyes' refers to the Five Eyes, an international intelligence alliance between Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, and the United States. 'Spider' refers to spy. And 'crow' refers to..."
Them.
He doesn't have to say it aloud.
"Something's happened... or is happening... that's caught international attention, hasn't it?"
"You're right," Yukiko confirms.
"Why Hawaii? The Kudou holiday villa, right? Does dad have something else to tell me?"
Yukiko's mouth turns down, then her eyebrows crumple. She turns her head and torso away, touching her hand to her cheek, troubled. It's her three degrees of sadness and disappointment. Shin'ichi has seen it before, yet his stomach still convulses like a firm kick to the gut.
His mother's lip trembles.
"Shin-chan," she whispers, "Can't your mother ask you to come visit without needing another reason?"
"Uh," says Shin'ichi.
"Your mother missed you so much, you know?" Yukiko switches to puppy-eyes. "At least come for a while? I can teach you some skills about disguising..."
"Weren't you the one who said I wouldn't be able to learn it?"
"You didn't have any interest, Shin-chan. I spent years training under Sensei. It's not something you can learn in the week before Halloween."
She tilts her head and presses her hands together hopefully. His mother knows Shin'ichi too well, tempting him like this.
"I have class," Conan tries.
"You used to read an encyclopaedia a week, Shin-chan. I still have your teacher's comments about you sleeping all the time and wondering if you'll manage to proceed to high school and university. Now they're what? You finish your work too quickly?"
"Ha ha ha..."
"Ran-chan does say it won't be a problem, and..." She frowns. "It's getting dangerous. I really don't know—I don't know if I'll ever see you again. This might be our last chance."
The dream returns to the front of Shin'ichi's mind. She's right. In middle school, he wasn't challenging an international criminal syndicate, not like most of his plans have developed in the past year.
Disappointed, he rubs his head.
"How long?" he asks.
"Four months?"
"That's too long." Shin'ichi sighs. "Two months."
"How about three? You can be back at the end of summer break."
Shin'ichi gives in. It makes sense. "Fine. We'll go to the Professor's place for our arrangements." And to beg two more temporary cures off Haibara for the flight in and out. "Then we'll need to meet Okiya-san and tell him I'll be going."
"Oh!" exclaims Yukiko, "I wanted to talk to him, too."
"You do?"
She winks. "If you leave, who's going to look after Ran?"
Shin'ichi's mouth opens. He closes it. "Actually..."
The probability of Akai Shuuichi taking time out of watching over Haibara to look after Ran is complicated by Amuro Tooru's status as a waiter below the Mouri Detective Agency. Shin'ichi considers how to express this.
He hears a click.
"Actually? Actually what?" Yukiko asks.
Shin'ichi places a hand over his lips. "Shh!"
Yukiko takes a step back and falls silent. The two stand shockingly still for a long minute.
At the ninety second mark, with no changes, Conan hops down the stairwell and emerges on the sidewalk. The streets are filling up with cars, predominantly sedans. Sunlight shines down on him and the slightly-damp pavement. Someone is walking their dog and listening to music. The sound of a bicycle whirrs around a corner.
Poirot's sign is out; the cafe is open. Its bell hasn't gone off. Nobody has entered or left.
Everything is normal.
Perhaps he's imagined it.
Conan glances to the roof of the opposite building on habit. Then he wanders over to the window and peeks into Poirot.
Amuro, or Furuya, or Bourbon. The man with all three names is tidying off a table, his face turned away. Seeing him in real life, an odd tightness in Shin'ichi's chest evaporates. Shin'ichi begins to pursue the root of that unknown emotion but becomes distracted by the differences.
First: bent elbows. Contrary to the dream Amuro, the real Amuro keeps his shoulders dropped, and his arms are never entirely straight by his sides. Second: most people lean forwards using their back. Amuro steps into the forward motion, gracefully transferring his weight between his shoes. He tilts into it. His hips stay high and steady throughout.
Amuro starts to turn around. Shin'ichi becomes aware of the sound of his mother's footsteps.
Conan backs out of sight and behind her legs before he's spotted.
"You're cute when you act your age," his mother says.
Shin'ichi looks up at her with a deadpan face. In the sunlight, her straight blonde wig looks more brownish-yellow than Vermouth's platinum waves.
"That's where Bourbon works," he explains. "Let's not give him any more information than he needs to know."
"Ooh, like a spy movie!" Yukiko winks behind darkening glasses. "Come, Mr. Bond," she says in English, "Let us visit good Mr. Q,"
Murgatroid Alice picks up Edogawa Conan's hand.
Together they leave Poirot and head for suburban Beika.
"Absolutely not."
Haibara's unimpressed face is at least five times more powerful than Shin'ichi's deadpan face. His mother has something to pick up at the Kudou house. The Professor excused himself after hearing Shin'ichi's reason to visit.
Alone at the counter housing Agasa's kitchenette, Shin'ichi finds himself without allies.
Still, he stands his ground.
"But I need it—"
"For what?" she asks. "More of your rom-com escapades? A chance to stretch your legs? Mid-term exams for a life you should no longer have?"
"Ahh... Haibara... it's not that, actually..."
The short girl cocks an eyebrow at his stammer. She takes his momentary wordlessness as an opportunity to bring the fruit bowl closer, and picks out an apple in too-small hands.
She puts the apple down and hops down from her stool, rummaging in a drawer for a fruit knife.
"Remember," she says, not looking at Shin'ichi. "You should be grateful. You shouldn't be alive."
The back door in the basement opens with a clattering of sound that has to be his mother returning from the Kudou house.
"Shin-chan, did you move the secret key for your father's study?" her voice carries up the stairwell, "I can't find it, I checked all the usual places—!"
"I gave it to Professor Agasa!" Shin'ichi calls back.
"Did you? Why didn't you tell me that?"
Murgatroid Alice comes into view, carrying a large shoulder bag.
"I did, mum—"
A blur in the corner of his vision. Haibara stumbles.
Her weight is in Conan's arms before he realises it.
"Haibara!" Conan tries to help her upright. Her eyes are blank and her body is trembling. "Haibara, are you okay?"
Slowly, steadily, colour comes back to her face. Haibara shifts, her shoulder crushed between his arm and the counter.
"I'm fine," says Haibara. Judging by the distance in her stare, the reassurance is not as sharp as she would like. "You..." Her eyes flick to Yukiko, "Who are you?"
"Ah," says Shin'ichi. "Don't worry, it's not Vermouth. She's my mother."
"Your mother."
"Yeah. That's why I'm asking for the antidote. They want me to visit them at the Hawaii villa."
Yukiko has put her bag down now. She takes off her glasses and smiles kindly, if a bit unsure. No; she's distracted. At Shin'ichi's nod indicating everything's alright, Yukiko collects herself, then wanders deeper into the house in search of the Professor.
Haibara straightens, murmuring something so softly that Conan can't make it out.
"Sorry?" says Shin'ichi.
Haibara picks up the apple.
The subject is dropped.
As she peels the fruit, Shin'ichi explains almost everything from that morning. He hauls himself onto one of Agasa's stools and tells her about his mother's visit, the letter from his father, and the request to go and spend time with his family.
"—That must be why she's in disguise. A new one. Something's taken place." Shin'ichi removes his glasses and rubs the side of his face. "If that's so, it'll only be to our advantage if I can learn from them. Before things take a turn for the worst."
For a moment, Haibara says nothing. She arranges apple slices on a plate and wipes down the counter once the peel is tossed away.
"Here," she says, holding the plate out. "Have one."
A bit confused, though familiar enough with Haibara that he doesn't need to decline out of social courtesy, Shin'ichi eats one.
She watches him as he chews on it.
"It must be nice," she tells him softly, "having a mother."
Shin'ichi isn't quite sure what to say to that.
"No need to make excuses." Haibara makes a sound like a sigh. "You can visit your parents... while you still have some."
"Then I can have a temporary antidote?"
"No. They know who you are - ask the Professor to make you a Kaitou KID suitcase. You know, the one that took you to Singapore for a time." Haibara gives him a side-eye. "If it's that dangerous right now, that's all the more reason to not have Kudou Shin'ichi's name on any passenger manifest. Besides," she smiles, and it's a bit of a cruel smile, "Since you're going to learn, you might as well learn in that body of yours, no?"
Shin'ichi swallows on a lump. "Thanks a lot, Haibara."
"You're welcome."
Three children are outside Poirot, scanning the surroundings, clumped together in a mass like they'd just been left alone by an adult.
"Oh!" Mitsuhiko spots him first. "Conan-kun!"
Genta makes a hearty and full-bodied wave. "Hey, Conan!"
Ayumi, dressed in a light pink dress today, doesn't respond at first. She's wearing a cream headband and white socks which hang loosely over the opening to her shoes. The socks are spotless, and after Shin'ichi examines the two boys, it seems today that all the Detective Boys are dressed for city strolling.
"Yo," says Conan.
Not an invitation to go play at the park, then.
Conan reaches Ayumi and she greets him. "Hello, Conan-kun." She beams and holds up the magazine she's been staring at the whole time. "Ayumi found a mystery!"
"But why are you here?"
"We wanted to find you, of course," says Mitsuhiko. "Plus, by coming here, we thought to also ask the great Detective Mouri for advice!"
"Then both of you weren't around, so we came back down to get hold of something else," Genta adds.
Ayumi throws herself at Conan. "Is it true? Ran-oneesan said you were going to go somewhere. Is that true, Conan-kun?"
Trying to ignore the glares from two grade-schoolers pummeling the back of his head, Shin'ichi extracts himself after awkwardly patting Ayumi's back twice.
"Wait," Shin'ichi says, "What do you mean, 'get hold of something else'?"
Mitsuhiko looks at him oddly. "Isn't it obvious?"
A door opens. The bell hanging off Poirot's door lets out a cheery chime.
Shin'ichi is suddenly too-aware of a clamminess in his palms when Amuro walks out in a dark jacket. Traces of flour frost little white peaks at the ends of Amuro's sleeves. One hand is still on the door, the other tucked in a trouser pocket.
"Sorry to make you wait," says Amuro sheepishly. "Oh, Conan-kun is here? Ahh, my car isn't big enough for everyone now. I guess everyone has to come inside."
"I, uhh." Shin'ichi moves his mouth and no further words come out.
"Conan-kun is leaving soon," Ayumi offers.
Yukiko appears in Shin'ichi's head, lightly frazzled, apologetic. I'll be at least another hour, Shin-chan, go ahead and pack, alright? I just need to drop by your school to do some paperwork.
"Leaving?"
The weight of Amuro's stare on Shin'ichi reminds him he's Edogawa Conan.
"Um. Yeah!" Conan exclaims, like the seven-year-old he's supposed to be, "My other distant Neechan came to pick me up for a trip to Hawaii."
Amuro looks considerate. "Hawaii, huh?"
Genta looks disappointed. "Man, Conan's so lucky..."
"Ahaha. I'm not like that," Shin'ichi tries to deflect.
"Nope! Conan-kun is worse!" Mitsuhiko clenches his hands. "Don't think I forgot the time you got to fly a plane, or do all that awesome stuff!"
Amuro's considerate look intensifies. "A plane?"
"Sky Japan! The pilots were poisoned, it was leaking fuel, it was going to crash!"
Instead of asking any more questions, the intensity from Amuro's stare snaps. It vanishes so disorientingly quickly, Shin'ichi doesn't realise that he's been hustled inside Poirot by Amuro and the other three children until they're staring and waiting for Conan to take a seat.
Conan does. Shin'ichi tilts his head to look outside.
I need better allies.
Well, assuming the enemy of his enemy counts, in any situation, as an ally.
He takes a breath, looking for the right character. In his mind's eye he twists the knobs of an imaginary bow tie. Brighter. Younger. You are in hiding and should not draw additional suspicion on your life.
Edogawa Conan rejoins the huddle to find Ayumi pointing at a crossword puzzle.
"—See, look," she's saying, "there's a secret message!"
"Where is it?" asks Genta.
"There, where the answers connect. The characters in the boxes!" Ayumi demonstrates.
A beat.
"Ahhhh!" Mitsuhiko yells.
"I see it!" Genta cries back. "It says 'HELP ME'!"
"Yeah!" Ayumi's hair bobs in a vigorous nod. "Maybe the crossword station was hijacked? We should rescue them before it's too late!"
"Actually, it's just a coincidence," says Amuro, coming over with their snacks. "I've already heard about this today - my friend is a crossword nut." The plates and drinks are doled out. "We got the police to investigate and there's nothing to find."
"Whaaat?"
"Really?"
"Yes. That's right." Amuro leans forwards, placing the last drink in front of Ayumi, smiling. "That's great work, noticing something like that."
His voice washes over the group and lulls them without inviting argument. Shin'ichi makes note of the pitch and inflection. Someday, he would try it.
Then Amuro turns his attention to the boy who has been quiet.
The moment their eyes connect, Shin'ichi vanishes.
"What's up, Conan-kun?" Amuro asks. "You're staring at me a lot today."
"Eh eh eh ehhh, nothing!" says Conan quickly. "I was just thinking, Amuro-san's hips and shoulders don't always face the same way. Usually people's do. And when you lean, you stay upright and switch your weight between your feet. I was wondering why is that?"
Why. The magic question. Easy for children to understand. The Detective Boys become as excited as Shin'ichi wants.
"Oh, you're right, Conan-kun."
"Wow, Conan-kun is a genius!"
"I bet I could have worked that out!"
Conan rubs his cowlick, embarrassed. "Ehehh..."
Amuro has returned to smiling as he stands upright, though there's another hint of something sharp behind his stare. "That's what you're curious about? It's a technique called upper body-lower body separation. In sports like golf, tennis, or baseball, it's key to making swings where the hips are used to make your arms swing faster. Like this!" He twists his shoulders back and demonstrates swinging some type of racket.
Genta leans forwards. "What sport did you do, Amuro-no-niichan?"
"Skiing."
"Ski...? But you didn't mention that."
"In ski, it's a little different. Separating the legs from the rest of the body lets the skier maintain direction down the hill. The legs can then focus on turning, and that helps the skier stay stable. The more skilled you become, the more you can have your upper body focused on one task and your lower body doing something different, and then, that allows for more advanced maneuvering."
The kids gasp.
"You must have been really good!"
"Wow!"
"That's Amuro-san for you!"
Amuro's attention drops back to Shin'ichi with barely a flicker of his eyelashes.
"You've been quiet today, Conan-kun." He's using that voice again, with the kind inflections. In stark contrast, his eyes have gone cold. Distracted in their own attempts to copy him, the other Detective Boys don't notice it. "Is something on your mind?"
"N-Nothing much." No way I'm going to tell you I had a nightmare about you or Vermouth-as-you last night. "Did you win any medals? For your skiing?"
"Maybe a couple," Bourbon demurs lightly.
Then he must have won them as Furuya Rei. Shin'ichi connects the ski background to Amuro's tennis skills. And high-level ski relies on feet and ankles, doesn't it? So too, footwork plays a role in high-performance driving.
It's hardly the whole picture. Another clue as to 'how.' He slots the memo about Amuro Tooru's abilities inside the imaginary binder where Bourbon's childhood nickname is 'Zero'.
"Where did you learn to ski?" chirps Conan in all innocence. "Let's all go there sometime!"
The Detective Boys cheer at the prospect. Shin'ichi watches for Bourbon's next action through Conan's glasses. He sees the man's lips moving wordlessly, his stare trained on something, a haunting in blank eyes.
Through the window, Yukiko waves for Conan's attention from under her disguise.
The Detective Boys break into whispers. She is so pretty, says Ayumi. Do you think she's French? asks Mitsuhiko. No, I bet she's American! Genta's bold proclamation. They're not as quiet as they would like, but their reactions are normal.
Bourbon's is not.
Come to think of it... Haibara also reacted oddly the moment she would have glimpsed Shin'ichi's mother.
Genta's elbow breaks Shin'ichi's concentration. "Why's she waving at you, Conan?"
"O-oh. That's, um..." Shin'ichi shoots a glance at Bourbon. "That's my Alice-neechan. I guess she's here to pick me up."
He starts sliding off the chair, but is stopped by an adult's hand.
"Alice?" asks the man with three faces. "Who is she, Conan-kun?"
Shin'ichi isn't intending on giving him an answer, not where Bourbon can learn too much, but the distress in the man's expression changes his mind.
"Murgatroid Alice." He pushes up his glasses. "She's my—err, she's a relative of my cousin's brother-in-law."
Shin'ichi sees a small twitch around the nose, micro-expressions flashing something else. He searches the man's stare for any recognition and finds none.
Pushing the hand away, he backs out of Poirot. "Sorry, I'm going now!"
"Wait," Mitsuhiko interrupts, "when are you coming back?"
Because he glances at the group on reflex, Shin'ichi is able to see where Amuro has moved his hand. He blinks, which proves he isn't imagining the evidence in sight.
Amuro's fingers curl tightly around the edge of the table, his centre of mass hovering above it, keeping him balanced.
Shin'ichi still doesn't know what to make of that.
While he thinks, Conan answers. "I'll see you after summer break ends, guys! Bye!"
"Hey," Shin'ichi says to Haibara's voicemail, "When you stumbled earlier. Is there something about Murgatroid Alice's appearance that I don't know about?"
Haibara doesn't respond for a few hours, and Shin'ichi doesn't have enough reason to drop what he's up to and visit. It seems that Professor Agasa has been working on some kind of prototype as he's already finished and dropped off his version of the Kaitou KID suitcase at the Kudou house.
It's about another hour of pacing the Kudou mansion, wandering around Subaru Okiya, when Shin'ichi gets a coded text message:
[10-4]: 26, 11, 6
He ponders.
Then she sends:
hint: ha iro turnabout
Ha iro turnabout... 'ha iro' in hiragana, 'turnabout' in katakana. A designation of a foreign word... or a foreign component? To 'turnabout' is to 'turn around'... Iro ha...
Iroha...?
Memos rearrange in his head. New information tumbles into locks. Timelines and backstories overlap.
Shin'ichi stutters.
If That's the case, then... what does It mean?
"You really have a casual attitude when it comes to being monitored," Haibara mutters critically, after he calls her with an explanation of his shock.
Still reeling, Shin'ichi speaks the first thing on his mind. "I'm not worried."
"Why's that?"
"In high school, I made sure Kudou Shin'ichi's fingerprints were never recorded by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Plus, you already searched my house twice." He holds up a hand. "According to the system, I'm Edogawa Conan. That's all anyone will find if they look me up."
"Nobody's perfect, Kudou-kun."
"No, I know. We just have to be good enough."
Haibara makes what could have been a disbelieving sound.
"Before you go." She clears her throat. "Good luck. I'd... like to know, if you find anything out."
Shin'ichi pauses. She's not sarcastic. For once.
Though she can't see it, he nods regardless. "Thanks. I mean it. You... You know, you're not a bad person, Haibara."
Overlooking a valley on one side and a reef on the other, the Kudou holiday villa in Hawaii sits on one of the central islands. If the Kudou mansion in Beika is built Victorian-style, according to Yuusaku's tastes, then the holiday villa can be considered as aligning with his wife. The living room is a single space connected to dining. The amount of stopovers made by his parents are indicated by a stack of gifts: hats, jewellery, bags, clothes, scented candles. A separate collection of watches from companies that keep supplying Yuusaku, in the hopes he'll take a liking to one the same way Yukiko has taken a liking to her purse's brand. Bright foliage and bold artwork break white walls with spots of colour. High ceilings allow for sets of large aluminium-framed windows overlooking the waterfront, a front yard called the Pacific Ocean.
Shin'ichi learns the techniques for disguise in front of a vanity mirror lined with round lamps. Wig caps, bobby pins, eye shadow, foundation, spirit gum. Applying hair extensions, using eyeliner, fundamentals of mask-making, blending skin shades, and the correct way to contour a face.
When he isn't on disguise skills, he's studying.
"Shin'ichi, I've enrolled you into a private university," were Yuusaku's words. "One of my friends runs a facility which knows how to be discreet. They specialise in the children of celebrities, politicians, and young idols, and maintain partnerships that offer courses in the big universities. This is all under managed arrangements that ensure the true identity of the student remains unknown until the student is ready to identify themselves to the public."
"Isn't that dangerous?" Shin'ichi asked.
"No more dangerous than continuing the charade that Kudou Shin'ichi can someday return alive." Yuusaku paused then, to remove and clean his glasses. It was an action Shin'ichi knew his father took when he was faced with a difficult problem. "If you still wish to return to your life, I won't have you playing catch-up. A Bachelor's in Criminal Law will take you four years, and you can take that remotely. So long as you have a Bachelor's, you'll be able to enter the Police Academy under Class I qualifications after that. Under Japanese law, since Edogawa Conan is not officially a citizen, elementary school is not mandatory."
"Ran would never let me drop out. Since They can't be allowed to ever see my face, I would... stay hidden with Okiya-san?"
"Wherever you would like. That decision is yours."
"Teitan High School has agreed to give you a transcript if you can catch up on midterms and finals," Yukiko added.
"That's what you were doing at my school." How long have his parents been working on this?
"Yep! And I've gone and taken care of the deposit to your dad's friend, which means you'll be able to start university when everyone else begins their first semester." Turning to Yuusaku, she huffed, "You were right that the bank needed our documents to make that big of a transfer, geez. We've been away for so long, I forgot all that paperwork!"
However Yukiko found time for those discussions, no wonder she was rushed.
"Wait. Midterms?" Didn't... Haibara make a joke about midterms? "When am I meant to do that?"
The answer, it turned out, was that Teitan High would have the files ready at the start of the week after. Shin'ichi finishes the exams and struggles for the first time in his life. Brain atrophy from months of crafts and single-digit mathematics leaves him frustrated. No wonder Yuusaku has mentioned something about falling behind.
Father-son bonding time consists of sitting together in the study: one working on a manuscript, and the other catching up on long-overdue readings. Yukiko finds them every couple of hours with drinks and snacks and reminders to take a break, telling Shin'ichi stories about trifling topics which nobody ever found the time to talk about; least not until an international criminal syndicate stripped away Shin'ichi's life, their scientist neighbour started raising a girl who made a drug killing dozens of lives, and their Beika family complex is housing an FBI agent full-time.
On one of these days, Shin'ichi exhausted and tired, eating a sandwich and ignoring the pieces of latex glued on his brow, Yukiko mentions she somewhat regrets not being around for him the first time he was growing up.
"I worry so much about you, Shin'ichi. You keep diving into trouble even if it doesn't find you. One of these days - one of these days I'm terrified to think that I'll come home to find you in a body bag and watching your father solving the mystery of whoever murdered you."
Before everything, his absent parents have always been something he's worked around. They have their lives and he has his hobbies. But the Shin'ichi who lives his days as Conan, watching over Ran and wondering if she will be targeted when he's not around... understands.
Even Conan's body, when he swallows, can come up with a mouth that's dry.
"I won't let that happen, mum," Shin'ichi says.
A foolish promise. She smiles, and the hint of crow's feet around her eyes can't wholly believe him.
She doesn't push the matter. "I know. Thank you, Shin-chan." Her lips part as her smile widens and whatever she's thought of must be ominous as Shin'ichi is graced by her dazzling, brilliant, Yuusaku-slaying charm. "Actually, is it bad to say I don't mind getting another chance to raise you as a kid again?"
"Ha ha ha."
He pushes the empty plate back. A cup of juice is downed in a single gulp. His eyes trail to markings on a calendar counting down to high school finals in July.
There's still material to catch up on. Social studies and science.
"Thanks for the food, mum."
"Good luck!"
Eight weeks later, he passes. He doesn't have the artistic talent to create a whole face mask, but he can spin up bits and pieces, combinations of little changes like different noses or ears or cheeks or brows. Combined with a wig, clothing choice, and elevator shoes, he can look short for ten, or very short for twelve, depending on his makeup.
His high school scores are not exceptional, and put together with his midterms, it's enough.
"I can keep my study materials at the Professor's, and work digitally everywhere else," Shin'ichi tells his plan to his parents, having considered it for two and a half months. He's spotted the zeros to be paid in fees for this incognito university. Combined with his parents' efforts, his protests disappeared fast. "Old man Kogorou won't look too closely at my laptop. Logically, taking undercover considerations into account, it would be better to remain with the Mouri's and not reveal too much of my identity to Akai-san."
The next few days are spent with his father, who tells him about recent conferences, and whatever is left to pass on in precious face-to-face time.
A week later, an old man drops by.
Yukiko makes their introductions.
"You'll be going back to Japan with my sensei's friend, Jii-san."
"Jii-san," Conan echoes. Funny. Sounds like 'grandfather.'
Jii Kounosuke is in his sixties with a friendly face. Shin'ichi takes in the clover-green turtleneck in a nice fabric, round glasses, balding head, and his neat moustache. Jii has removed his hat indoors as is polite. Shin'ichi considers the odds that this Jii-san is a careful man, one that may need to keep up appearances, but is not overly concerned for how he might be judged on his own.
"How is Kaito doing?" asks Yuusaku, appearing around a support pillar for the second floor loft.
"He's making his father proud, you could say," Jii replies. "You won't meet a more lively child anywhere else."
"Oh, I don't know about that."
Shin'ichi pretends he doesn't notice the warm glance Yuusaku directs his way.
Small-talk is exchanged in their small party. His mother comes around with a graduation gift. A navy leather train case, a small, traditional trunk used to store makeup and personal grooming items while travelling by train. Shin'ichi pokes around his, peering at the mirror embedded in the lid, pushing into place its extending cantilever trays. The side is stamped with a cheesy 'Mystery Box.'
The bottom tier is filled with watches.
Yukiko says, "Maybe Professor Agasa would like one?"
One, two, three... six watches. Yeah, Agasa would enjoy taking a couple of them apart. But six is too much.
Shin'ichi is going to have to give some to Kogorou, who can gift them to his clients.
All at once, his three month adventure ends.
"Be careful," says Yuusaku, helping set up Agasa's replica Kaitou KID child exfiltration suitcase.
"Be safe," says Yukiko, kissing Shin'ichi on the head.
"Don't do anything Kaito wouldn't do," adds Yuusaku.
"Eh?" Shin'ichi blinks. That name again. "Who's Kaito?"
"Just a boy your age—well, your Shin'ichi-niichan's age—who, one day, I would have liked to introduce him to."
With childhood admiration, Shin'ichi thinks his dad has always been remarkable at covering for any slip-ups in Conan's identity. Perhaps a little too late, Shin'ichi looks down at the suitcase and realises that Jii doesn't ask questions.
This stranger - surely he's been informed he's about to become accessory to what looks like illegal entry of a grade schooler?
His heartbeat quickens.
The moment he leaves the Kudou holiday villa, Shin'ichi will cease to exist. Shin'ichi will become Conan. And Conan will have to be supportive for Ran and her entrance exams, while pretending he's also not about to start a course at university himself.
Yuusaku kneels down and notices.
"Would you like sleeping pills?" his father asks softly.
Shin'ichi. Conan. The son closes his eyes as to shield against the glare with a tropical Hawaii backdrop.
Time passes. But their preparations for today have taken unexpected occurrences into account. There's no risk of missing the flight if he needs a moment to remember who he is.
A moment becomes two.
Two moments become grains of sand in the streaming fountain of an hourglass, countless, with an end. Sand. Shin'ichi thinks of a memory of Ran, coming with him to the villa while they were children - both of them. Real children. Ran, who stared with huge eyes at the reef, being shy about her swimsuit. Who laughed when splashing Shin'ichi in revenge for something he said. Joyous yelling about mountains shaped like animals, hair ribbons streaming through the wind, vibrations from the engines of a private chartered plane.
He opens his eyes.
"I'm fine," says Shin'ichi.
"You look a lot better."
"May I hold something?"
"Mementos are dangerous."
"I know, but..."
A thoughtful spectre passes through Yuusaku's face. "Alright. Wait here."
He goes inside the house and disappears around the corner. Footsteps go up a central staircase. On an ocean breeze, Shin'ichi turns his head to the skyline. Leaves rustle in the distance, susurrant off the fronds of coconut palm trees.
Yuusaku returns and hands Shin'ichi a piece of paper.
An exclamation mark has been written on it.
"Your mother told me you asked," says Yuusaku.
"Yuusaku is the 'parent' of the name KID, which makes Kaitou KID my 'older brother,'" Shin'ichi repeats from memory.
"As, in English, 'kid' can mean 'child.'" Yuusaku nods. "We're with you, no matter how old you look."
Shin'ichi brushes the fingers of his small hands across the paper.
"Thanks, dad," he says.
He means it.
But a baby bird that fell out of the nest
Can never go back home
[ Tragedy:Eternity - Myth & Roid ]
The baggage hold is miserable and cold. No matter how many extra layers or hidden amenities, small features like snack holders and audiobook playback the Professor's considerate nature spurned him to add, it would never replace flying in a cabin and passing legally through immigration on his own passport. Locked in a suitcase he cannot open from the inside, should his air run out, what would he be left with?
Being achy and awake means being sure he's still alive. He has no need for sleeping pills. Uncomfortable as it is, to cross the Pacific Ocean while unconscious would be scarier.
He's freed in the bathroom at Haneda Airport, the international arrivals terminal, after customs. Jii deactivates the breathing apparatus in the suitcase. Conan finishes removing his insulation blanket. The blanket goes into a collapsed duffel bag, then Shin'ichi accepts a baseball cap to hide his face and hair.
Jii exits the cubicle with all their luggage, saying, "Come outside when you are finished, my boy."
Shin'ichi takes a moment to straighten his clothes. Yuusaku's note, long crumpled, is stuffed into his pocket. When his head is no longer swaying, he uses the toilet.
Outside, Jii hands over the duffel bag.
"I will have the suitcase and your other belongings returned to the residence of your neighbour next week," says Jii, meaning Agasa, as previously agreed. "Is your guardian here to pick you up?"
Shin'ichi's Conan phone has reconnected to the local network. A mountain of messages download into his mailbox. He checks them. It buzzes throughout.
"The Mouris will be here soon," Shin'ichi lies.
He parts ways with Jii, hefting the duffel, ducking into a shop to buy two bottles of water. He drinks from one, dehydrated from the flight. He fills the bottle back up at a water fountain and puts both in his bag to add believable weight to his duffel's bulk. It will improve the illusion he's been on a flight, carrying luggage.
Jii is nowhere to be seen when he is done.
Conan finds a seat until the time indicated in the mail, tucking his feet beneath him, browsing the news on his smartphone.
A Kaitou KID heist.
Workers compensation following a construction dispute.
A young chess champion and his family caught up in a car accident.
Railway updates...
"Little boy, are you lost?" asks a kind woman's voice.
Conan looks up at the airport staff. Stockings, a pencil skirt, a scarf around her neck, hair in a tight bun. His newfound knowledge lets him observe that her foundation doesn't match her skin tone. Her scarf is slightly crooked from working all day.
"Nope! I'm waiting for my guardian to get here," says Conan.
"Sorry to be late," says a third person. Charmingly apologetic, Amuro looks down. "Coming, Conan-kun?"
"I'll come," chirps Conan. "Can you lean closer, Amuro-no-niichan?"
Amuro does. Shin'ichi pinches.
"Ouch!"
"Goodie!" No mask, no powder. "I was reading all about Kaitou KID, and how he can disguise as anyone. You're not secretly a criminal under your face!" You're sometimes a criminal using your own face.
Amuro rubs his cheek. "Now, Conan-kun. I know you missed catching Kaitou KID. But his heist is next week. Please refrain from pinching faces?"
"Okaaaay."
They make it past all the people, and the crossings, and the signs, until the car park where the white Mazda RX-7 roosts with its rear spoiler proud.
When they leave the airport, Conan's mannerisms drop.
"So? Why are you here?"
"I really was asked to pick you up," Amuro explains. He glances briefly at Shin'ichi, then back to the road. "You're very suspicious of me today. There's no need for that."
"There are two guns in the car."
"Ah, did you—" Amuro stops. "Of course you would."
"Moreover, it's like you didn't bother to hide it," Conan continues. He bypasses the explanation. The trip is short and Bourbon is a master at stalling. "What did I miss?"
"What makes you think you missed anything?"
"I was removed from the country because of the warning strike on the FBI."
"Ahh." A considering sound. "The house attack in Houston, Texas. It had all the markings of a gang dispute, and the police stopped investigating. What nobody realised is that the FBI were keeping someone important in that property who was then missing among the bodies."
The traitor that tipped them off about the Black Organization's base of headquarters in Japan.
"I would say you're remarkably well-connected, but you're always remarkable, little detective." Amuro shifts gears and the RX-7 takes a right. "So? If you were removed, then what's got you back in Japan?"
"Same as you. I have people to protect."
"Mouri Ran?"
Shin'ichi doesn't acknowledge the clarification. It's not as if Amuro doesn't know, anyhow.
Amuro breaks the silence. "Tell me about Murgatroid Alice."
Shin'ichi inspects the man's face at profile. "Maybe if you tell me why you want to know."
"Then I will go first." Amuro blinks, a detective mien settling in the curve of his mouth. "Was she Vermouth?"
Vermouth?
Before Shin'ichi has a chance to get over his surprise, Amuro is speaking again.
"Then, I take that she is not. You see, you did not appear in any of the passenger lists on the week you departed, nor today, when you arrived. And neither did Murgatroid Alice. Do you know the story of Alice in Wonderland?"
"A young girl follows a rabbit with a pocket-watch."
"Yes. Personally, I enjoyed the sections about logic." A softness appears in the man's eyes. "I saw somewhere an argument that it's a story about a girl growing into a woman. I think they might have been taking the body-shrinking from the 'DRINK ME' potion, and the body-growing 'EAT ME' cake too literally, however."
In the absence of an accusation, Conan laughs, a hollow sound. Why did his mother have to be inspired by Lewis Carroll in the first place?
"In fact," continues Zero, "I read the story as a book about making decisions. Alice follows the rabbit. She obeys the instructions of others, then chooses to run off. It lands her in further trouble, but at the end, she learns what she holds to be right, and stands up for her identity."
"You sure know a lot about fairytales," says Conan.
At a traffic light, the car comes to a stop.
"Fairytales are real, don't you know?" Zero looks through Conan, the force of his stare reaching for Shin'ichi's heart. "Only a person from a fairytale can be forever young... Like Chris and Sharon Vineyard."
The light becomes green.
Zero's eyes return to the concrete track.
"I wasn't sure I could believe it. But I went through the photos, and the records, and they're the same. What a secret. And who could have ever thought one secret of hers would lead into another, that nobody amongst Them can ever be allowed to discover?"
Breath catches in Shin'ichi's throat. Vermouth has another secret that only Bourbon knows about?
Zero smiles, as if ignorant of the revelations he's laid out. "I bet you're like that too, Conan-kun. You should be older than you currently are."
"A—Amuro-no-niichan, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Logically, it's obvious. What normal eight year old can do a fraction of the things you can?"
Crap.
"So," says Zero, "who is Murgatroid Alice?"
Shin'ichi, fully prepared with excuses on how Edogawa Conan can't possibly be Kudou Shin'ichi — oh look at all the times that Shin'ichi and Conan were in the same place at the same time; Conan is just a smart boy who really takes after his cousin — closes his mouth.
Bourbon has never met Shin'ichi, and doesn't care who Edogawa Conan is or is not.
His heartbeat is in his ears, and he's sore from being trapped in a suitcase and then clenching his jaw the moment Amuro mentioned Vermouth. Bourbon has done a fantastic job catching him off-guard, disabling him, manipulating the line of questioning. By making it almost impossible to follow the line of thought, Bourbon has increased the chances that Conan will blabber because his mind has gone blank.
But Bourbon has failed before he started. To the question, 'What does Bourbon want?'—
Kudou Shin'ichi already knows the answer.
The code sent by Haibara to Conan used character indexes in the famous 'Iroha' pangram, a poem which uses all hiragana characters at least once. 26, 11, 6 becomes no, ru, he. Combined with a simple number pun, ten-shi, the turnabout hint further indicates the message is to be read back to front.
Hell's angel.
In other words, the identity of the person that Bourbon saw in Murgatroid Alice's appearance is...
"You got me, Amuro-san," says Conan. "Murgatroid Alice is a fake name. Whoever you thought she looked like, it wasn't her. The disguise my Neechan picked is a coincidence."
Vermouth may deliberately dress as Miyano Elena. There's no way that Yukiko would have known Haibara's mother.
The question is: Why is Zero asking about Haibara's mother?
The implication is that Zero knows Miyano Elena. According to the evidence, he knows her enough that, upon seeing her visage, he visibly reacts.
They were not active in the Organization simultaneously. Amuro's age and Haibara's timeline makes that an impossible fact.
By deduction: They must have met outside. Before Zero joined, and before Elena died.
Counterpoint: He could have known her from a photo.
Unlikely, Shin'ichi concludes, given the viewing angle that day in Poirot. Unlike when Haibara saw her in Agasa's house, under diffuse indoor light, Yukiko's glasses would have been opaque in the sunlight, and parts of her body would have been cast in shadow. There's a reason passport photos are taken under stringent conditions; too many variables make recognition from photos more difficult, though Shin'ichi cannot discount the potential.
Does Zero's knowledge of Elena mean the converse is true? In other words: does Haibara's mother know Zero?
As much as Shin'ichi would like to confront the man, he lacks the information to do that.
Zero's hands tighten on the steering wheel, and he sighs.
"Everything is a coincidence with you, Conan-kun, isn't it?"
"Ahehehe." Conan laughs. "Were you saying something about Ran-neechan?"
"Was I? I don't think so. But if I was, I'd probably say there's a better way to keep her safe."
"What's that?"
"It seems to me that Edogawa Conan is an alternative identity, and yet for some reason, you chose to stay in a detective agency. There must be another reason you're keeping up this facade and that reason is for covert intelligence. Doesn't it occur to you that it might be more useful having a link to the police, more so than a private investigator?"
"I won't become a Collaborator."
"I suppose not. Then I have a choice for you, Conan-kun. Well... you could call it a blue pill, and a gold one."
Shin'ichi knows that reference. Conan hadn't been born for that movie yet, but Amuro has already turned a blind eye to his age, so... "No red pill?"
"The red pill represented the truth. What truth can I give to a seeker of truths?"
"Ha ha ha..." Or maybe you don't like the colour red.
"Well, I can't force you into any option. You'll have to be the Alice that decides what she wants to do for herself."
"What's the decision?"
"Would you like to end the Mouri Detective Agency?"
To end it? To terminate it?
"I don't understand what you're asking..."
"Like I said. What makes you think you missed anything? Mouri-sensei has a nose for avoiding the truly dangerous work, doubtless because the truly dangerous don't leave clues that are easily found. Therefore, there haven't been many dangerous cases since you departed. I think you and I are perfectly capable of closing the business. Won't Ran-san be completely safe if her father stops taking cases altogether?"
Bourbon smiles, then adds:
"And you know, don't you, that Vermouth has a special interest in your Neechan?"
...
Bourbon never failed.
Kudou Shin'ichi doesn't know that.
A/N: The amount of work for this fic makes it more time-consuming than regular fics to write, so I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what you thought! (...and maybe share it around... ?) Thank you! /w/
Next Conan's hint: Chessboard