"Someone's been killed!" whispered a woman to her friend.

"I saw it," said a frantic man to no one in particular. "The dead body in the bathroom."

Shinichi was already on his feet. He had to get to the crime scene before it was contaminated. Weaving through the crowd, the unmistakable bitterly subtle scent of death reached his nose.

"Let me through," he said to the flight attendants at the bathroom door, adopting an authoritative tone. "I'm a detective." All those lectures from his parents about "Don't draw attention to yourself," yet the words came so easily off his lips.

They eyed him skeptically for a moment before he broke through to the body. As he examined the scene, the unrest in the passengers faded to background noise, disregarded information. Dead for an hour, maybe two. An odd scent came from the trash. Chloroform?

"Ma'am, is there a plastic bag of some kind I can use for collecting evidence?" He barely glanced over his shoulder as he took his handkerchief from his pocket and opened the trash.

"Um, well-" The shorter of the two hesitated, her gray-blue feathers still fluffed up from the shock of finding the body. "I'll see what I can find."

Before she could go to look, a third attendant came from the other end of the plane. "This man is a police detective," he told his coworkers hurriedly, a larger man close behind him.

Shinichi just needed a few more moments. He frowned in thought and hummed in supersonic tones that only a few would be able to catch and fewer would be able to decipher. He slipped a few decibels lower as the information came together, and his ears caught a familiar hiss.

"Shinichi," Ran said, low and not quite happy with him, "stop doing that." She knew he was listening. "I told you, it feels weird when you hum like that."

He couldn't help it if his most comfortable note just happened to match the pitch that resonated with her entire being. (He could help it when he was paying attention, but that didn't happen enough.) She never said it was painful, describing the feeling as chills throughout her whole body. It was like really low bass, she once told him, how it shakes every part of you.

He could feel all sorts of wavelengths all the time, so being without some sort of vibration in his chest would always be a foreign concept to him.

The large man pushed past the flight attendants. "You-!" Inspector Megure began angrily.

And the deduction show began.

(0 0)

Maybe it was less a deduction show and more "here's what I don't know," but either way, he was unable to get Megure to let him help. (Never mind the fact that he listened with equal parts irritation and satisfaction as Megure and Takagi came to the same conclusion in three minutes that he drew in a fraction of the time.) Only as a witness could he secure his usefulness, but once Megure needed his help, Shinichi went to work.

He was so sure that he could find the criminal, the weapon the only part missing (and how the murder was carried out, of course). But his confidence was beginning to falter as the weapon wasn't anywhere.

Then Tsugumi Amano faltered as she reached up for the bag. Odd, he noted, tucking the strange action in the back of his mind.

(0 0)

With the answer he'd hoped for from Ran, the murderer and their method began to fall into place. A grin swept his thoughtful frown away, and the murderer shuddered.

(0 0)

Tsugumi Amano confessed. He could have caught her lies earlier, he knew, if the plane engine wasn't so loud. Heartbeats betrayed every liar, but he couldn't hear them like he always could with the roaring engines.

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"One more thing," Shinichi said to the others around him. Megure raised his eyebrows as though expecting further deductions. "You may recall a detective many years ago who lost his wings." Megure's eyes widened, but it was Edward Crowe who spoke up.

"That was Yusaku Kudou, correct?" he asked.

Shinichi nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "He lost his wings to injuries inflicted by a murderer he convicted. His wife and son were also targeted more than once due to his hobby.

"For the safety of my friends and family, I ask that you keep my name from any of the papers, please. I don't want the same misfortune to befall me." And I could never let Ran endure that sort of pain.

Megure nodded in understanding, but Saginuma frowned. "Komori-kun, we don't even know your name."

Shinichi thought for only a minute. "Let's keep it that way." He bowed to each of the suspects and returned to his seat.

"In other news, a murder occurred on an incoming flight from Japan. Thanks to the efforts of police on board the flight, the murder was solved hours before the flight landed, witnesses say."

-krrsccsh-

"-not just police alone. A young bat with orange fur reportedly assisted the police in solving-"

-krrsccsh-

"-Ms. Misawa, who says not only did she see the young bat, but says he solved the murder himself. Ms. Misawa, what did the-"

-krrsccsh-

"-Komori-kun. It's Japanese for bat. Not original, sure, but it sounds a heck of a lot better than Bat Man. I mean, what sort of name would that be, amiright, folks?"

-krrsccsh-

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His mother lashed her tail back and forth as she paced across the hotel room. Ran waited outside, and he could hear her heart hammering in her chest like a drum. His mother's heart was beating no slower as fear and worry came off her in waves.

"What part of 'don't draw attention to yourself' don't you get? Shinichi, news stations and every social media platform, even the papers heard about this. Someone has a picture, Shinichi. A picture." She stopped pacing to look at him. "They know the bat who helped has orange fur. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

Of course he knew. "Only one in twenty-eight bats don't have black fur," he answered automatically. "But at least I don't have yellow fur. I might have just as well told them my name, if that were the case."

Her ears went flat against her head. "You're sure none of them knew your name?"

Shinichi nodded and shrugged in one motion, his wings bobbing as he moved his shoulders. "Inspector Megure never called me by name, and I only introduced myself to him. The suspects only called me komori-kun."

She drew in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, her fur began to smooth out. "Don't tell anyone you were there. Don't let anyone know you're that bat."

Shinichi's wings shivered in irritation. "Mom, I know. I get it. I know what happened to Dad. I know how dangerous being a detective is. You can't make me stop doing it," he finally burst out.

She bared her teeth unconsciously, so he continued in a softer tone, "I was there, Mom. I know how much it hurt to watch Dad be in so much pain because of his being a detective. I won't do that to you or Dad or anyone else," he vowed.

"I'll keep this a secret. I promise."

Yukiko wished Yusaku was here with her, here to fight to keep their son safe. Instead, he was halfway around the world at a mystery writer's summit.

(Yet some part of her knew Yusaku would side with Shinichi. Like father, like son, as they say. The worst she could see her husband doing was ensuring an officer went around with Shinichi at all times.

Not even that, however, would be enough to dispel the fear Yukiko harbored for her little boy. Perhaps it was time to go visit her family shrine again and pray for protection. A little extra luck never hurt anyone.)