Summary: In which, Shinichi talks with the Miyano sisters, and the others begin their own investigations.

Notes: Shinichi's meeting with Miyano's occurs on the same day Kaito breaks out of hospital. This is the same with SaguRan / HeiKazu scenes from ch34-35. I hope you guys enjoy the update.

"You know," Shinichi says, following Shiho as she leads him to their new meeting place, and the older sister that is waiting for them, "for a meeting that's supposed to make me trust you, you and your sister aren't doing a very good job."

Shiho does not respond. She does however, glance back at him, eyes scanning the street behind him. It's the same kind of glance that Shinichi is accustomed to throwing around the area, brimming with paranoia and a heavy worry that something's going to go incredibly wrong pushing down on his shoulders.

"We want to make sure you weren't followed." Shiho says. "…Or that you didn't bring anyone with you."

Shinichi lifts a hand, fingers brushing against the bandages around his neck and shudders. Bringing people with him, he can accep concern, but the idea of people following him…

"No one's following me," he says, resisting his own urge to look behind him. "If anyone were to see me, I'd either be arrested or dead."

Shiho glances at him, wide-eyed and pale. She says, "it depends on who's watching you. If they're watching, then there's a third option that's worse than both of those."

"What's that?" Shinichi breathes.

"They wait." She turns the corner, cutting through a small alleyway. The walls seem to loom over them, blocking out more sunlight than should be feasibly possible. Shinichi feels like he's drowning in the shadows.

"They wait," Shiho continues, "until they have every piece of information on you possible. And then, when there's no more use for you, they'll make a sport out of hunting you down. Seeing you cornered and–"

She doesn't need to finish, Shinichi knows what she means. It'll be a slow death, he knows, if they catch him before he can catch them. This time when he lifts his hand up to his bandage, he digs his nails into the fabric, until he can feel the scabs on his neck throbbing.

"Well," he says after a second, "what a good thing we're not being followed, then. Right?"

"I've got it."

Ran turns, glances towards Saguru. She's been sat on his floor for a while now, waiting for him to grab whatever information she can. Looking back over old case files, she's been highlighting important concepts in green, things they need to investigate further orange, and things that she simply doesn't understand in red.

There's a lot of red.

Crime scene photos are painful to look at but Ran forces herself. Saguru's added to his previous files, has printed off the photographs from the newest crime scene. Numabuchi's body is displayed from various angles, still as gruesome as when they'd both made their way to the scene themselves.

Ran still has so many questions. But now, she pushes them down as deep as she can, looks over to Saguru.

"You've got what?" She asks.

Saguru offers her a smile, wide-eyed and sleep deprived. He says, "I got an address. Not the fake that's been placed into the police database, but the one linked to Oogami's bank statements."

She swallows her nerves. Ran knows this isn't what they usually do, but there's a part of her that understands Saguru's side of things. Because, well, this is Shinichi, and Ran's pretty sure there isn't a thing she wouldn't do for him.

"Okay," she whispers, standing to look at the computer screen. She glances at the address that Saguru's highlighted, blinking at the sight. It's so near, on the outskirts of Ginza. "What do we do with that information."

Saguru is quiet. He says, "we can't go to the police."

Of course, they can't. Ran's known since they'd analysed Numabuchi's murder that she couldn't trust the police, not when they should never have let the prisoner disappear in the first place. Something just doesn't… bode well because of that.

But even then, had that been the first time Ran had considered herself untrusting of the police force? Or with the justice system as a whole? Hadn't she had her doubts when Shinichi's sentence had been harsher than it should have been, a death penalty for someone who's crimes weren't worthy of death, but simply a lengthy sentence?

"I know that," Ran says, glancing away. The address is already burned into her skull. "But what do we do with this information?"

"We investigate," Saguru says, pushing away from his desk, standing. He rubs exhaustion from his eyes, scrawls the address onto a post-it note and nods his head. "We investigate the fake."

Ran bites into her lip. How do they go about investigating something the justice system is complicit in – well, maybe not all the police… And how do they go about changing things when they finally have the evidence? They'll have to figure that out when they've got said evidence.

Right now, it doesn't matter how they report the evidence, doesn't matter who they tell. They don't have the proof.

"Sure," Ran says, "let's get going."

They make their way to the Blue Parrot.

The billiards parlour is closed until evening. It's nothing out of the norm, Aoko had forced Jii to promise he wasn't changing any of his usual routine. He'd insisted that since Kaito's arrest, there hadn't been much point in opening early. They'd been the only two teenagers that had shown up during the daytime to play.

Now, his patrons are mostly adults, and his business strictly bound by night hours. As sad as the change to his business makes her, filling Aoko with a strange melancholy, it's useful for them. It means that when they get ready to sneak Kaito into the building, there's no customers waiting for them inside.

They loop the camera feed to Jii's bar, and help Kaito inside, assisting him as he settles into one of the seats, leaning against the counter. He looks more awake now, the drugs working their way out of his system, but Aoko knows he'll need more pain medication soon.

Maybe not as much, if Aoko knows Kaito, then he'll insist on a lower dose. He's always been the sort of person who'd decide on keeping some pain, if he also stays in full control of his thoughts. Aoko knows he values clear thoughts and pain, over a foggy mind and a numb body.

"So, what now?" he asks, as soon as they're all sat down.

Aoko slips into a seat beside him, watches Jii as he makes his way towards the bar, grabbing at the glasses. He sets three down, alcohol for himself and soft drinks for them both.

"There's a storage room upstairs," Jii says. From the way Kaito's mouth quirks upwards, he's probably accustomed to such storage room. "The two of you are free to stay here as long as you want. But you'll have to head up soon, if you are, because we'll have customers in soon."

Aoko pulls a face, but she already knows that they're going to stand out if anyone comes inside. It's not too late yet, but getting upstairs, and comfortable before people get ready to arrive is always better than leaving their retreat upstairs until the last moment.

And even then, Aoko's pretty sure she and Kaito need some time to simply talk, to figure out what they're going to do from here. She has a few ideas, questions that she wants to go into, but that can wait. She can see from Kaito's expression that he wants to ask her thinks in return, and so she'll wait her turn.

"How about we head up then?" She suggests. Jii offers her a glance, a quick nod and watches as she takes a step nearer to Kaito helping him up. The bullet had only grazed him, she knows, and he can walk perfectly fine, but Aoko wants to take this opportunity to support him.

"…Sure," Kaito says. He turns to Jii, offers a grin and says, "have you got any ice cream we can take up with us?"

Why a billiards parlour would have ice cream is beyond her, but Aoko doesn't question Kaito's request. Instead, she watches as Jii brightens, lifts a finger that urges them to wait just a little while longer and turns around.

He heads into a back room, comes back with a tub of chocolate ice cream and two spoons.

"It's almost like I was expecting you back here young master," Jii says, as he hands Aoko the ice cream. The tub has frost covering it, etched all around it. Aoko can feel her hands freezing already, wet from the way it's already melting against clammy hands.

It doesn't take a detective to realise that this tub… it's been in the freezer for a while. It's most certainly not new. If Jii had been expecting Kaito to come back, then it had probably been either when Kaito had been imprisoned, or in the first few days of escaping.

(How Jii could have gotten that information though, she's not sure. Although, some element of her doesn't doubt that he'd find a way to stay in the know, anyway.)

"You're on ice cream protection duty," Kaito breathes, as he stands, offering her a wild smile. Aoko smiles back. "Let's head up, alright?"

Aoko nods. They've got a lot they need to work through.

"What's th' rush Heiji?" Kazuha complains as they arrive at her house, Heiji all but rushing inside, hardly giving her the time to swap her shoes for slippers. Only years of dealing with Heiji's impatience gives her the ability to swap shoes while practically being dragged inside.

Heiji glances back at her. He says, "I need to know something."

"Heiji," Kazuha says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. She raises an eyebrow, ignores the restless energy that's simmering in his muscles, the tenseness to him that shows how he wants to move. "Tha' phone isn't goin' anywhere."

He almost sends her a glare but stops himself. It's not Kazuha's fault he feels so impatient. Sure, the evidence isn't going anywhere, and yes, no one even knows they're in possession of it, so there's no risk there but – but he's been wanting to crack into his case for months now and a lead could finally be in front of him…

"I know," Heiji responds. "But this is important."

"That's exactly why we can't rush these things Heiji," she says. Heiji follows her eyes gaze towards the sitting room. They're lucky that Kazuha's mother isn't sat inside, is probably outside working on the garden, or else they would have already been noticed.

"Kazuha," Heiji sighs. "I need t' know."

"You're so stubborn sometimes, ya know?" She shakes her head. "I thought ya were supposed to be smart, but maybe I need t' explain this in a way ya can understand."

Heiji does not want any explanations thrown his way unless they're deductions. And even then, he only wants them if they're relating to this case. He crosses his arms, rolls his eyes and waits for the explanation.

"Wha' we're doin' here…" Kazuha states, "is illegal. This isn't like all th' previous investigations I've followed ya on before, this is one where we need to be subtle. People find out tha' we're lookin' into things, and we either end up in prison or dead."

Heiji knows that. He understands, it's why he'd settled on walking home with Kazuha at a slower pace, why he'd only started to speed up once they were inside the house.

"I know tha–"

"No Heiji," Kazuha says, "I don't think you do. Remember – we're keepin this from everyone. That includes, my dad, the chief detective, that lives here."

Heiji frowns. "Your dad's at work."

"But his wife isn't." Kazuha says. "And my parents talk Heiji. Ya think they won't act questions if they realise we're acting weirdly? And I may be lyin' to them by omitting the truth, but I won't lie to their faces."

Of course, it's something that Heiji hadn't really considered. He knows that he's been keeping things from his own father, but that's… he's not as close to his father as Kazuha is with her. Heiji had kept his plans to himself, never holding any evidence, nothing around that could be found by others.

But now, they have tangible evidence, a physical link to Kudo, and they can't risk anything. That includes keeping up a façade, even when they're in their own homes.

Heiji wonders how stressed Kazuha is about this. He should have ensured there was no chance she got involved in the first place.

He shouldn't be thinking about what ifs, they can't change things now.

A sigh. "I'm sorry. I – Whenever I get a lead ya kno' I get so…"

"I know," Kazuha says. "But we need to blend in as well. We'll greet my mum, then, we'll head up to th' phone. Okay?"

Heiji nods.

The storage room is double the size of Aoko's living room, but it feels smaller. There are crates from deliveries stacked within the room, alcohol that goes in the bar when they need it. Surely it would make more sense to have these crates downstairs, for easy access?

Kaito must see her expression, because he explains for her. He says, "this is where Jii stores the alcohol that's more expensive. That way, if anyone tries to grab any from the other storage room, he doesn't suffer too much for it."

Aoko nods. They shuffle past the crates lining the room, down a thin pathway. It's almost like a maze, except they are heading in, instead of trying to find an exit. Her fingers brush against the crates, memorising the route although it's not very far.

"It's just past here," Kaito says. He's been up here before, and as they squeeze past the final crate, she starts to wonder why he'd had to stay here before. The result of a heist going wrong? Or simply because he'd been curious once and had decided to head up. "I'll get some light in here."

He moves forward, unsteady on his feet. Aoko feels tempted to follow him, but she can't see well enough to promise herself that she won't trip.

Seconds later, a small electric lantern lights the room. It's not overly bright; It's gives the same amount of light as a smouldering flame, faint but enough that she can still make out the vivid blue of Kaito's eyes.

"Come sit down," Kaito says, and then, more indignantly, "I want that ice cream, so you kind of have to sit, you know."

She would punch him, if he weren't already injured. But he is, and Aoko doesn't want to argue with him right now, is just glad to have him in the same room. She says, "you don't have to be rude about it."

A smirk. Kaito says, "I know, but ice cream."

For a moment, it almost feels like before. As Aoko sits beside him on a small mattress – no frame, but the mattress alone is enough – she bumps his shoulder, offers a smile as she deposits the tub of ice cream into his lap.

Ignoring Kaito's resulting cry of 'I-it's so cold', Aoko turns her gaze to the little room that's present within the storage crates. There's the mattress they're sat on, pillows at one end and a pile of blankets on the other. Across from them is two chairs, and a mini water cooler, a tower of plastic cups beside it.

The lantern sits on a small coffee table. One of the legs is a few centimetres smaller than the other three, because the surface is uneven, the lantern tilted but not enough to worry about it falling.

It's like a little bedroom, and Aoko finds it beautiful.

"I never thought a storage room could feel so calming," she mutters, watching with a smile as Kaito lifts one of the spoons from her hold. He's opened the tub and tries to dig his spoon into the ice cream.

He proceeds to frown. The ice cream is like a block; He's going to have to wait for it to melt a little, for it to become softer.

"Jii set it up a while back, with some heists I'd be too tired to go back home immediately, so I'd stay here and head home early the next morning." He voice is soft, reminiscent. "I'm surprised he kept it the same."

Aoko doesn't know much about Jii, but she understands the want to keep hold of a memory.

"Ugh," he says, "I'm going to need to wait for this to melt, aren't I?"

Kaito places the ice cream on the floor, reseals it and leaves his spoon on the top. Aoko follows suit with her own spoon and turns to him. In turn, he glances at her, tilts his head.

"We need to talk," Aoko says. Part of her just wants to sit back and talk about ice cream, and what exactly they mean to each other now, how much she's missed seeing him in class every day, but another element of her knows they have more pressing matters to think about.

Like what to do now.

"Right," Kaito says. He nods his head, and then, there is a light frown, as if he's finally cleared his thoughts on something. "You… You could have still stayed with me, without giving your identity up. Now there's no going back, the police–"

Aoko closes her eyes. She should have known he'd be caught up on this.

"It's not about the police, Kaito." She moves her fingers to the space between them, Kaito's meet hers, intertwined. "I could have stayed behind, and the police wouldn't have thought for a single moment I were involved. I know that."

"Then why?"

She feels strangely disconnected. Aoko says, "this is the best way I know of keeping everyone safe. The people who shot you, they – they were going to shoot me."

Kaito takes a deep breath. He remains quiet.

"And I… at first, I thought if I broke you out, that would be enough. I could pretend everything was normal again." Aoko pauses, hesitates with the words. "But they tried to shoot me. And you took that bullet instead – you saved me, but in return, you showed them that I was someone you cared about."

When she opens her eyes, there is something like guilt on Kaito's face.

"I'm a weakness, and we both know that if you were freed, they would come for me." Aoko takes a breath. "Maybe not immediately, but they would. Because I'm someone you risked your life to save."

Now, Kaito tries to move his hand away. Aoko doesn't let him, squeezes until he stops trying.

"The best chance of making sure they didn't get to me was this." Aoko says. "If I were to disappear, they'd go to dad to see where I am. But if I let the police realise they're after me, then it's not just the police that's searching for me, but dad too. And he'll be safe."

Aoko offers a smile. It's a mixture of sad and happy.

"Plus, it means I get to stay with you," she whispers, "which is always an added plus."

Kaito shakes his head. He says, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't do anything I wasn't prepared for." Aoko leans down, grabs the ice cream. It's still difficult to get any out, still frozen, but she persists until she's got spoon full. The taste is like frozen cocoa, nice, but she's certain it would be better if it was hot. With marshmallows.

"Anyway," she continues, "we need to decide what to do next. Do you have any ideas?"

Kaito grabs his own spoon, digs his own slither of ice cream from the tub. His expression is far more content at the coldness against his tongue. He takes a moment, simply enjoying the sweetness before speaking. He says, "I want to go back to the museum, see if we can get any information on the guys who shot me."

It's not an idea that sits well with her. Aoko feels nervous at the concept, going back to the place she'd almost died in… to the place she could have just as easily lost Kaito at…

Aoko isn't sure she wants to.

"Is that the best idea though…?" She asks, waiting to see if there's any shift in Kaito's expression. She hesitates.

"Well, eventually, I want to get back to Shinichi," Kaito says. Aoko grimaces at the idea. "But I don't' want to go back until I can offer some sort of information. I want to know the kind of resources they have."

"And going back to the museum gives us that?"

A nod. "We got back to the museum, find out where they shot from and search for any evidence from there."

It's risky. Includes evading not only the police but those who clearly want Kaito dead – or out of the picture. But still, it's riskier to forgo gathering the information at all. Every piece of data they collect will lower the possibility of someone gaining the upper hand.

Aoko breathes out a sigh. Nods her head. She says, "alright."

The fake Oogami lives opposite a café.

While Saguru squints, trying to see which apartment is the one they've got to keep an eye on, Ran glances towards the shop window, notices an open booth. It's not the busiest of cafes, but there are enough people that they won't stand out in anyone's memories.

"Saguru-kun," Ran says, nodding towards the building, "why don't we keep watch inside. I brought a notebook, we could pretend we're studying."

Saguru nods. Ran lets out a sigh of relief, wanting nothing more than to just sit down and process the latest information in her mind. The murderer who framed Shinichi lives across the street from where she's about to order green tea. A shiver runs down her spine.

"Come on," she says, the two of them not moving fast enough to settle her nerves.

The café is an old one, accompanied by an older woman stood behind the counter, her hair greying with age. Ran points towards the booth she'd sat at previously, tells Saguru to sit and turns to the woman behind the counter, ordering them both tea.

Ran pays, receives her change and is urged to sit down, told that one of the staff will bring the drinks over in a few seconds. With a smile, offering a cheery 'thank you', she does exactly that, sitting opposite Saguru in the booth.

Bringing her notebook from her bag, she places it on the table, opens it to a blank page, writing kanji down for what she'd recently learned in her Japanese literature classes. It's better to have some words on the page filled, Ran thinks, before she and Saguru start talking about the case.

That way, they'll be able to pretend she's inquiring about grammar, or whether she's got the write kanji. Saguru however, seems to have his gaze fixed the window, looking the part of a friend who's been forced to a study session without wanting to be there.

(It seems very… bizarre, when placed against his usual personality.)

"Two green teas." Their teas are brought to them just as Ran's scrawled enough kanji to fill half of her page. She glances up, only to be greeted with an expression that is less than pleased.

Their waitress, it seems, is the standoffish type. The feeling she gives off is not one Ran usually associates with those working in hospitality. She's got short brown hair, barely covering her ears, with a straight box fringe. around her right eye, the woman has the edge of a butterfly wing tattooed in red.

"Thank you," Saguru says, for them both. He reaches forward to remove the teapot and the cups from the tray the waitress has brought them both. As soon as he has, the woman takes the tray back, and heads away.

Ran watches her from the corner of her eye, before turning away, deciding that a rude waitress is nothing to bother with. Not in the grand scheme of things.

"Here," Saguru says, stealing her attention, holding out a cup for her. He's filled it for her, and white wisps of stream rise from the rim.

"Thanks," Ran says, with a smile, settling back into her seat. "I think I need it."

After a brief conversation with her mother, Heiji finally manages to convince her to head upstairs. Kazuha supposes it's the most she can ask for. She grabs Shinichi's phone from her sock drawer, hands it over and sits on her bed, waiting as he powers it on.

"What are you thinking?" Kazuha says. She knows his idea relates to the organisation not being as hidden, but she doesn't see how it relates to the phone.

"I wanted to check th' photos, to make sure I ain't wrong." Heiji says, crossing his arms. He takes a moment, only continuing when he notices Kazuha waving her hand, urging him to carry on his explanation. "But I think th' only evidence worth payin' attention to in these photo's is tha' alcohol label."

Kazuha tilts her head, tries to think it through. The pictures, she's pretty sure they're seared into her memory – she's certain she wouldn't need to see them again to explain every detail – had only held one difference between what was sent through the image and seen at the crime scene. The alcohol label.

"Right," she says, "but we already know abou' th' alcohol label. Of course, it was hidin' in plain sight."

"Not just th' label itself Kazuha," Heiji says. "I think th' alcohol label is a front, right. Th' group tha' framed Kudo are usin' it as a front. So – so, shouldn't we look into the chain of liqueur stores?"

"Right," Kazuha says. She points towards her laptop, "you kno' my password. Get going."

Heiji scrambles across to it, throwing the phone onto the bed beside Kazuha in his haste to grab her laptop. Kazuha takes a second to switch the phone off, popping it back in her drawer, before joining him by her desk. Listening to Heiji tap against the keys on her keyboard.

First, Heiji types the alcohol chain into the laptop, glances at the thousands of responses. There's mostly news about the new regulations they've brought in, advertising for various answers.

"Try getting th' more business-related facts down," Kazuha says. Heiji does, retyping into the search bar, blinking as the results go down by a couple thousand.

He clicks into the official site.

Kazuha spares him a glance, before tearing her gaze back to her computer screen. She lifts her finger, uncertain what to say, before lifting her finger to the drop menu, where one of the options reads 'our story'.

Heiji clicks into it.

And they read over the company's history for about twenty seconds before they both grow bored. Heiji scrolls down, skimming, as Kazuha searches for any information on the page that could help.

They both freeze at the same time.

"There," Heiji says, and Kazuha swallows, nerves running frantic. She nods, staring at the link. "That."

The pair hold their breath, and Heiji clicks onto a link labelled, 'notable sponsors'.

"We're here," Shiho says, at last, pushing open the doors to what must be the shadiest café Shinichi has ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes on. As a teen detective, he's seen his own fair share of shady areas, but this is on a different level.

The staff seem to be paid not to serve, but simply to avert their eyes to anyone entering the area. There are no welcomes, like at other cafes, and Shinichi follows behind Shiho, feeling for the life of him, that he might possibly be the only person who doesn't belong in a place like this.

Although, with his current label of serial killer, he might well belong here more than anyone else.

He doesn't want to think about it.

"You say your sister is in here?" Shinichi says. He can't doubt the older Miyano for wanting to meet somewhere inconspicuous, like this, but it also fills him with worry. She'd waited here, alone? This café seems to dangerous to lay down your guard and arrive alone.

"She is," Shiho says, and her voice has softened slightly. Shinichi suspects that it's not due to a growing warmth towards him, but rather, an already present adoration for her older sister. "In here."

There's a side room, and Shiho steps inside, urging Shinichi inside. He does, gaze searching for sight of Miyano Akemi.

At the table towards the end, she sits, talking to a man wearing a beanie, pulled down over dark hair. Not alone then. Definitely not alone, since she's got this male guest, and her younger sister with her. Shinichi's hand reaches back for the door – it was stupid to come here, he should have stayed with Hattori and Kazuha, what a stupid idea – before coming to a stop.

"Come on then," Shiho says, turning back to watch him. She raises an eyebrow at his tense shoulders, at the hand that's slinking backwards towards the door handle, before shaking her head. "You don't know the way back. The best thing to do now, is hear us through."

Shinichi submits. He steps forward, shuffling to the seat opposite Akemi. Shiho slips into the seat beside her sister. Three on one side, and Shinichi on the other.

"You came." Akemi says now, a thankful smile on her face. Of the three, Shinichi assumes she is the most trustable. But even still, he doesn't feel like she's particularly trustworthy. Not anymore.

"I'm starting to think I shouldn't have," Shinichi says. He glances around the bar, for any exits and finds that the door they entered in is the only one. There is a window just past their table, but he'd have to move past Akemi, and that exit plan seems to be less likely to succeed.

"You'll be glad you did," Akemi says, "trust me."

Shinichi offers a glance that seems to broadcast that any trust for her is going to be difficult to gain. The most she'll get within this meeting is scepticism.

"Either way," Akemi says, "I have to admit. I lied when I said I wanted to talk to you. I mean – you can help us a lot, yeah. But… But I'm not the one who has things to discuss."

Shinichi lifts his fingers to his neck. He rests them against the bandage, forces himself to keep them there and not to dig into his throat. Akemi frowns at the movement, concerned.

"Him then." Shinichi concludes.

"Yes," Akemi nods. She glances towards the man beside her, the two sharing a conversation with only a glance. The man nods, and with that, Akemi says, "this is Shuuichi Akai. He's with the FBI."

Shinichi stills.

Panic spreads through him almost immediately. His heart feels like it's going to collapse from the sudden shift in pressure, chambers threatening to collapse. He feels almost faint.

"The… FBI."

Akai speaks now. He says, "I'm investigating the same organisation that we believe you were investigating, before you were framed."

Shinichi presses his lips together. He says, "the FBI believes I'm innocent?"

A nod. It's small, but present, and Shinichi strangles the hope that starts to build inside of him before it can grow too much, because he's not to certain that this isn't just a trick.

"The evidence suggests so." Akai says. "I was sent undercover to infiltrate the organisation, to collect evidence for arrests. I made contact with Akemi, who was looking to defect from the organisation."

Shinichi glances towards the woman. She doesn't look like the sort to be part of such an organisation. But then again, most successful criminals, like the kind he'd been investigating, are usually those who appear as anything but.

Akai continues, "I was discovered and had to leave my undercover mission, but I've continued working on the case. A few months ago, Akemi managed to contact me, and we came up with a method of escape."

Yes, and interesting story, but where does Shinichi fit into this?

"We've been forced to lay low," Shiho says, from the side, "because the FBI agent that was meant to meet us to help us leave the country was killed at Tokyo docks."

Akemi sends her sister a harsh look, something that tells the girl to let Akai explain. She quietens, although Shiho doesn't seem pleased to be doing so.

"As you can see," Akai continues, almost as if Shiho hadn't spoken at all, "the escape was successful. It was then that both sisters decided to give us all the information they could remember."

Shinichi narrows his eyes. "Right."

"You were part of that information." Akemi cuts in. "I overheard that woman – Vermouth – boasting about how they'd managed to frame you, influencing the judge so you'd be given the death sentence."

And since she'd boasted such a thing, they had cause to think he was innocent. How strange, to learn that Vermouth, the woman who'd warned him against continuing the case lest he be killed, had been the one who'd started the timer on to his own death.

"I still don't understand what that has to do with this meeting." Shinichi rubs the back of his neck. "I'm innocent. So, what?"

"The organisation usually kills those that look into them." Shiho says. It's a brutal honesty, something that causes Shinichi to flinch. "But they didn't shoot you dead. They framed you instead."

"I'm perfectly aware of what they did–"

"There must be a reason for it." Akai says. "Our working theory is that they decided to make everyone suspicious of you, rather than outright kill you, because you had evidence that they couldn't locate. Something that would point straight to them."

Well, Shinichi had. Kind of. There had never been a lot of information, but he'd had a warning to keep every piece of evidence he'd gathered hidden somewhere nobody could find.

Vermouth had warned him.

Vermouth…. Where does she fit into all of this?

Shinichi crosses his arms. "And with them suspicious of me, thinking I'd killed those people… they'd be able to kill me without anyone finding the evidence."

It's incredibly jarring, but the reasoning fits.

"The FBI thinks – no, we think – that if we combine our evidence and yours, then we'll have a higher likelihood of making mass arrests and taking this organisation down for good."

Shinichi does want that. He's never been the sort to want revenge, but he does. He wants to solve this case and send the criminals to prison, make sure they never see freedom again.

Strip their freedom away like they'd done so easily with his.

Shinichi hates this side of his, the anger he feels mingling with all the self-doubt and fear. He doesn't want it, and yet, it festers. He sighs, not quite realising he's done so out loud.

"You'd get something out of it," Akai says, and Shinichi glances towards him, uncertain. "The FBI is offering to make you a deal."

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