Chapter Seven

In the meantime, Genta and Mitsuhiko were trying desperately to free themselves from their prison. A thorough search of the room produced several sharp objects, which they tried to use to saw through the ropes, but they only succeeded in cutting themselves several times. Finally they had to give up in despair.

"What do we do now?" Genta cried. "We're not going to be able to get out of here!"

"Let's think about it!" Mitsuhiko declared, trying to stay practical and calm. "This is an old house. Maybe the door isn't very strong. We should try to break it down!" Without waiting for a reply, he ran over to the door, grateful that at least his legs were not tied, and rammed into the wood. It creaked in reply, but did not appear as though it would give way, and Mitsuhiko looked back to Genta. "Come on!"

The heavyset boy hurried over as well, and the two of them struggled with all their might to get the door to break apart, but it was not any use. After five minutes of useless attempts, they finally had to concede defeat.

"We're never going to get out of here!" Genta bemoaned, sliding down the door to the floor.

"Well, we sure won't, if we don't think positively!" Mitsuhiko retorted, and began to pace. Another idea came to him. "Maybe there's secret panels and stuff!"

Genta was still dejected. "Yeah, but you have to touch levers and stuff, and our hands aren't free to do that!" He watched Mitsuhiko move around the room, trying anyway, and finally he got enough mental strength to get up and search with him. It took much longer since they did not have the use of their hands, but they did their best, and at last they did have success as a portion of the wall slid to the side, revealing a dark tunnel.

"There's no way to know where that leads," Mitsuhiko frowned. He had been hoping for a simple way into the next room. But this could be dangerous. They would not be able to hold anything to light their way, such as the candles on the bookshelf, and they could easily tumble down a hole in the floor or get into some other predicament just as disastrous.

"If we leave the panel open, we'll probably be able to see to the end of the tunnel," Genta objected. "How long could it possibly be?" Then he frowned, thinking he smelled something from under the bedroom door. "Hey, is that smoke?" he gasped then.

Mitsuhiko sniffed too, and then looked over at the door. "It is!" he exclaimed. "And it's coming in here!" His eyes narrowed. "We'll have to try the tunnel, even without light. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll be a way out of the building!" He knew that it would not take long for the smoke to fill the room, especially since they could not stuff anything in the crack under the door. And he did not want to suffocate! The tunnel was their only chance.

"Then let's go!" Genta exclaimed, and ran inside without a second thought. Hoping that he was not making a mistake, Mitsuhiko quickly followed.

The pathway was long and narrow, or at least it seemed that way to the boys. The walls were covered with cobwebs, and the floor was badly cracked and rickety, and the duo had to tread very carefully in order to not take an unwelcome plunge in case the planks should not be able to hold together. Then they had to turn a corner, but instead of ending up in complete darkness, they could see another light up ahead. Gathering hope, they ran toward it as fast as they could and found themselves standing in front of a door.

"Should we try?" Genta asked.

Mitsuhiko nodded. "On the count of three! One . . . two . . . three!"

They threw themselves at the door, struggling to force it open. But, as with the other one, it would not budge. Then, to their astonishment, they heard familiar voices on the other side.

"Who's there?"

"It's Conan!" they both exclaimed, and between them they told of their misadventure while Ai picked the lock on the other side. As they finished, the door swung open and they fell into the room with relief. Once they were untied, they took in the scene with astonishment.

At least ten other children, all around their own ages, were gathered in the room. They seemed terrified, and stayed close together as they watched what was happening around them. Genta and Mitsuhiko greeted them, but the other kids only looked at them in reply, wide-eyed.

"They've been through some unspeakable things," Conan said quietly. "We have to get out of here right now!" As he spoke, smoke and flames were rapidly approaching the room from the tunnel that Genta and Mitsuhiko had abandoned.

"Have you seen Ayumi at all?" Ai asked them as they rushed for the back exit, which they had managed to open after getting in through the window.

"No, we haven't!" Genta exclaimed. "We were hoping she wasn't here, because the guy who lives here is really freaky!"

Conan glared ahead. "I hope she's not here, either, but I'm afraid she is," he said, more to himself. After everyone else was safely outside, he had to continue searching for her. He only hoped that the upstairs would not be blocked off by then. The flames had been close to engulfing the stairs from the top down when they had been rushing to find Genta and Mitsuhiko. And he had been almost certain that he had heard gunshots, though it could have been more of the ceiling caving in.

He had been stunned when the order had come down that he had to kill Akemi. For a long time he had simply sat in the car, brooding and smoking. Akemi had been his childhood friend. She trusted him, even though they had grown apart since he had taken on the mantle of an assassin. He still cared about her, and about Shiho---codenamed Sherry now. How could he go to Akemi and pull the trigger?

Vodka had been with him, and though he did not fully understand Gin's inner struggle, he did know about Gin's feelings for Sherry. Killing her sister would undoubtedly drive a wedge between them. He did not speak, waiting to see what Gin would do. It was always best to not disturb him when he was thinking so deeply as he was now.

At last the blonde started the engine. He did not offer an explanation, and Vodka finally asked, "Bro, what are we going to do?"

Gin grunted. "We're going to commit the billion yen robbery," he answered, "and release a trapped soul."

He could never forget the look of betrayal in Akemi's eyes when she had been met at the warehouse by Gin and Vodka. He had shot her, telling her that traitors had to die, and he had smirked, but his eyes had said so much more, so many things that he had not been able to put into words. I promised you freedom from the Organization . . . and this is the only way I can grant it. He did not know if Akemi ever understood. She had gazed back at him with those eyes filled with confusion, and betrayal, and hurt, and he had turned away, leaving her to die.

Sherry never had been able to comprehend how he could have done it. Not that it was not understandable for her to feel that way, but they had both ended up feeling betrayed. Everything had fallen apart, all of their lives irrevocably changed by the Organization that had manipulated all of them as pawns. All of their stories were tragedies, and there were similar tales for almost everyone else in the crime syndicate.

Ayumi was dazed when they crashed to the floor. She was not certain how long she did not fully realize what was going on, but it was the flames that finally startled her back to awareness. As they came closer, the heat roared and nipped at her hand, and she cried out in pain. Struggling to get into a sitting position, she noticed that her pant leg was torn and that blood was running from a nasty cut that she had acquired during the fall. Biting her lip as she struggled not to let the tears break free, she looked to her side to see how Gin was faring.

She found him sprawled on his stomach, his hair flying out around him and concealing most of his face. He was still bleeding from the shoulder wound, and he was laying very still. Ayumi did what any normal seven-year-old would in such a situation---she panicked.

Crying in alarm, she shook him repeatedly, even though it hurt her burned hand to do so. The tears did break free then, and she sobbed, her small body trembling as she innocently pleaded for him to wake up. He could not be dead! He had to wake up. But it seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she could not get him to stir. At last, in despair, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his long blonde locks.

"Gin-sama . . . why won't you wake up?" she wailed. The flames were closer to them now, and she clung to him in panic. "I need you! I don't want you to . . . to be dead!" And then she cried more, coming to another conclusion. "This is my fault! You wouldn't be hurt like this if it wasn't for me trying to find you! It's my fault. . . ." She trailed off, shuddering, and felt ready to give up all hope. He was most likely dead, and she probably would be as well. The smoke was starting to get to her, and she coughed. Her eyes were watering from it as well as the tears, and she was beginning to feel sleepy. But just before she completely gave in, she heard a voice from somewhere nearby.

"Try again."

She looked up, stunned, trying to see who had spoken. Then she gasped in astonishment. Standing amidst the flames was a beautiful woman in her early twenties, with black hair and blue eyes, just like Ayumi. She gave the child a kind smile, and though the fire was all around her, it did not seem to bother her in the least.

"Who are you?" Ayumi asked in awe.

"That doesn't matter," was the reply. "Just try again to wake him up. He's still alive, Ayumi. He'll help you get out of here."

Ayumi straightened up, trying to kneel on the floor in a way so as not to irritate her injured leg. "But . . . what about you?" she wanted to know.

"I'm okay," she smiled.

Trusting her, Ayumi shook Gin again, desperately, and called to him. "Gin-sama! Wake up. . . . Please wake up! We have to go!" Part of the ceiling crashed near them and she screamed in fright, hugging Gin again as she begged for him to hear her and revive.

And he did hear her. He had felt her shaking him through the mists of unconsciousness, but he had not been able to gather the strength to fully grasp onto awareness. When Ayumi shrieked, he was at last able to force himself back to the current situation.

As he did, he found that he had a pounding headache, which did not really surprise him when he remembered that part of the ceiling must have conked him. Growling in pain, he coughed and struggled to his hands and knees, gripping at the floor as he tried to ward off the dizziness. Then he looked for Ayumi and found her also kneeling, coughing violently from the fumes. He reached for her, drawing her close to him, and tried to study the room.

It seemed to have a similar layout to the one they had fallen out of, and the sole way out was through the window. But there were flames in the way. Gin glared at them. The only way he could hope to get Ayumi out would be to wrap her in his coat and then run into the fire, breaking the window and plummeting to the ground two floors down. He could do it under normal circumstances, but right now he still felt dazed. And yet he knew that he would have to try in spite of that.

Trying to get his balance, he stumbled up, holding the child close to him while tucking his hair into his coat with his free hand. He wondered where Vodka was and found himself wanting to think that his associate had made it outside.

"Gin-sama, we have to get the lady out too," Ayumi mumbled, burrowing into the folds of his coat. She was so thankful that he was alive, but the smoke was getting to her more and she could not properly express how happy she was about it. But she snuggled close, listening to his beating heart.

He stared at her. "What lady?" he demanded.

"The pretty lady with dark hair who told me to keep trying to wake you up," Ayumi told him, her voice muffled. "She was standing in the fire, but she said it didn't bother her. . . ."

Gin blanched. "There's no one here," he said gruffly. "Now, don't talk anymore. You've inhaled enough smoke as it is." Not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, he took a deep breath and tore into the flames bordering the window. Glass shattered every which way, and he felt several pieces cut into his flesh, but he ignored them as the ground rushed up to meet them. He hit it on his feet and then dropped and rolled to put out whatever flames had caught onto his clothing.

At last he sat up again, coughing himself. He had taken in more smoke than he had realized. Muttering, he gently laid Ayumi down on a nearby patch of grass and then stepped back. She would be safe there. He could hear nearby voices. Her friends were coming for her. They would find her.

Ayumi coughed, reaching out desperately to grab him. "Gin-sama, don't leave me," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

He did not know what possessed him to do so, but he took her hand. Perhaps he had thought that she looked so pitiful, laying there, struggling to reach for him. He looked into her eyes seriously. "I can't stay," he told her, his voice quiet and somewhat rasping. "You'll be safe now . . . Ayumi."

She smiled weakly. "You called me by my name," she said softly, and closed her eyes.

Seeing that she seemed to be peaceful now, Gin straightened up and disappeared around a hedge on the property. He wondered what to do now. Going back into the house to look for Vodka was out of the question. If he had not made it out by now, then there was not any way that he could. And so Gin opted to head for the car instead, coughing and trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

He was met halfway there by his concerned ally, who seemed to be relatively alright, save for his torn clothes and a wound on his right arm, sustained during a gunfight with Ushio's lackeys---in which he had come out the victor.

Vodka stared when he saw Gin coming, as if he could not fully believe it, and went to his side, trying to steady him as he nearly tripped over a small, sloping hill. "Bro! What happened?" Vodka exclaimed. "I . . . I thought you were done for. . . ." And, he decided as he looked the blonde over, he nearly appeared half-dead in his disoriented state. When they got back to the base, Gin would have to visit the infirmary, whether he wanted to or not. And of course, Vodka knew that he would not want to.

"That makes two of us," Gin grunted. He would never admit it, but he was relieved to see the other. Vodka was safe, Ayumi was safe, he was safe. . . . They had all come out of this nightmare, except for Ushio and his men, and Gin felt certain that they had gotten exactly what they deserved.

"Where's the kid?" Vodka asked then as they made their way over the property back to the car.

"She's alright," Gin answered, and he paused slightly when he heard shouting from the direction he had came. They had found her. He smiled vaguely, and this time Vodka knew he had seen it.

"She's here! I found her!" Genta cried, running to Ayumi's form in the grass. For a moment, panic gripped him, but then her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him. He rocked back in relief, grinning at her. "She's hurt, but she's gonna be okay!"

The others quickly gathered around, and Dr. Agasa began tending to the laceration on her leg. "She couldn't have gotten here all by herself in this condition," he remarked, glancing back to Conan, who had been unable to get back into the house once they had left it---due to all possible entries on the first floor being blocked. The one that they had come out of had almost immediately been consumed by the fire. "Someone must have helped her," Dr. Agasa deduced now. "There's no other logical explanation."

"What happened, Ayumi-chan?" Genta demanded.

She continued to smile peacefully. "It was Gin-sama," she answered, unaware of the effect that this statement was having on Conan and Ai. They both regarded her in complete and utter disbelief.

"'Gin-sama'?" Conan cried, certain that he must have heard wrong. "Ayumi-chan, who is that?" He knew that he had seen the Porsche in front, but . . . this was not possible! Gin would never have helped her! Conan could not believe him capable of it, after all that he had witnessed Gin doing.

"He saved me from that awful man in the park," Ayumi said softly, "and again today. . . . He's killed people, but he's not a bad person. He's still kind and good, deep down . . . Gin-sama. . . . I wouldn't be okay without him. . . ." Her voice trailed off. She was exhausted from everything that she had been through, and she was in need of medical attention, but her injuries would heal. Within a week or so, she would be fine.

Conan swallowed hard and looked to Ai. "What . . . what do you think?" he stammered.

She shook her head. "It couldn't be," she answered, her voice strained. "It's not possible. . . ." She turned away. "He wouldn't. . . ." But a lingering doubt remained. Ayumi was so certain of it, and someone had to have helped her. Also, how would Ayumi even know Gin's name if she had not encountered him?

She gazed off into the distance, where she could see the sun about to rise. A man she knew long ago might have helped Ayumi, but she had believed him to have been long ago dead, buried by hatred and cruelty. But . . . had she been wrong? Did some part of him still exist? Would she ever know? . . . Or was the proof the little girl laying in front of her, who would be dead without him?