The first day back to school was torture. As the head of the school newspaper, Sonoko kept the Komori-kun incident quiet. The media was abuzz in America, but news on the murder was glossed over here in Japan. Sonoko had a price, though: the price of answering truthfully to any and every question she could think of for one hour (as if roughly a dozen high school girls knowing exactly who Komori-kun really was wasn't enough) (but his secret was supposedly safe with them. Sonoko apparently swore on Kaitou KID's cape that anyone who breathed a word of Komori-kun's true identity would have every last dirty secret revealed on every social media that had and ever would exist) (you didn't become part of the rumor mill without some skeletons in the closet).
He might as well have given her a blank check.
His face ablaze with embarrassment and wings fidgeting in discomfort, Shinichi buried his face in his hands.
Sonoko rested her chin on her hands, her well-groomed scales almost glittering emerald beneath the kitchen lights. "Why don't you ask Ran out?"
This is for my family, this is for my family, this is for my family, he repeated to himself as the urge to bang his head against a brick wall steadily grew.
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His mother was still nervous. Nothing he did would change that. Even with a small stun gun in his backpack, a key-shaped knife of his keychain, and his phone GPS tracker on at all times, she still fussed and fretted about was he followed, did anyone strange recognize him. Shinichi wished his father was coming home sooner than next month. He might go live at Ran's for a while. His mother was well-meaning, but ever since he started doing minor detective work here and there, her overprotective micromanagement kicked into overdrive. Shinichi just wanted a chance to breathe.
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Three days after they'd returned from New York, he felt like he was going to suffocate if he stayed home any longer. He gathered together his flight gear: a thick, warm hooded jacket, flight goggles, and study boots to help him stick landings (the boots were more comfort objects than anything. They were the same brand and make as the boots his father used to wear). Flight license zipped into the pocket of his warmest jacket, he took to the skies as the sun dipped below the horizon.
And oh how free he felt. Flight restrictions were much more strict in America, and because he didn't have an American flight license, it'd been nearly a week since he'd been able to stretch his wings like this. No grounder would ever really understand flying. It was like water to the aquatic. Yes, he could live without it, but he was miserable if he went too long without a few hours in the sky.
Sometimes, he wondered if running for the grounders was like this. The wind rushing past his wings, the city below a shining sea of lights like an artificial reproduction of the glittering Milky Way above. The sour smell of asphalt and cars faded and faint, the scent of rain filling his lungs and the sheer openness of the enormity of the sky free for him to explore.
He could easily discern the other night aviators thanks to echolocation, and he knew most of them by name. The barn owl, Haru, lived on the other side of the city and only got out when his kids were all asleep. Only one of his four daughters had wings, and he spoke of bringing Chihiro out for her first flight soon like it was the only thing that mattered. Katsuo, a screech owl, came out with his mother every Friday if not more frequently. Katsuo started flying the year after Shinichi's father lost his wings.
One who called himself 'Zero' was the only other bat Shinichi really knew, but Shinichi had never seen his face or heard his true voice. Zero preferred communication via morse code and supersonic chirps, and his fur was darker than the night itself.
Not many other bats lived around, especially not any with fur Shinichi's vibrant orange color. Shinichi knew his mother had a right to worry, but he hated being treated like a child. He was almost fifteen, after all. He could handle himself just fine.
When Shinichi landed, hours later, he tripped over a body in the street. Not literally, but he couldn't just smell death and walk away. Pulling his hood lower to hide his distinctive ears (the tips were black, a rare fluke of genetics), he easily claimed the title of Komori, a detective. Already wearing flight goggles that easily covered his face, he knew no one recognized him as he called the police and held back a few passersby who reeked of fear. Their fear scent only grew as he approached the body, and despite the hustle and bustle of the city, each of their hearts pounded in their chests like bass drums.
It was a simple enough case (murderer still had the gun on him) (and the scent of gunpowder) (the brother murdered his sister's girlfriend because hate is a thing), and Megure, as Shinichi wrapped up things around the crime scene, held the steadily growing crowd of curious onlookers at bay. It was a startling amount for the late hour, but nonetheless Shinichi heard the click click of cameras indicative of a few photographers in the crowd. As much as he would have loved to march up to them announce his genius, he kept his head low as Megure led him to a police car.
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There were still pictures the next morning. The tabloids and news stations had a field day, speculating with even more enthusiasm than the Americans. As he'd suspected, none of the speculators caught his face, and even fewer got a good shot of his wings, the only part of his body that wasn't covered.
There was one person-- a grounder with night vision-- who worked in the restaurant next to where the murder occurred, however, who saw Shinichi's orange fur for what it truly was. The news caught wind of this crucial piece of information and went ballistic.
So did his mother.
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His ninth day of house arrest (by order of Kudou Yukiko who, while excessive, often had a point), Ran dropped by to say hello. Grinning, she flucked her forked tongue between her lips now and again as she pulled up a video on Zuutube. With Yukiko nearby, Ran waved her over and said gleefully, "Watch this."
The video titled "Komori-kun's TRUE Identity: MY THEORIES" was posted by SpritzPoppers, a Zuutuber they all knew personally. Hamasaki Aneko went to middle school with them but transferred to a school a little more to the west, somewhere in Osaka, for high school. That didn't stop her from keeping a close friendship with Sonoko.
Shinichi looked at the thumbnail as the video loaded. A picture— the picture of him on the plane, his ears in full view of the camera. Strangely, someone had edited the picture to remove the black on his eartips (perhaps they'd thought the coloring a trick of the light?). The video had over three million views and climbing since its upload an hour ago, and Shinichi's wings gave and apprehensive quiver. Hamasaki knew him. She'd easily figure out that it was him in the picture.
I'm going to be grounded forever, Shinichi thought, wilting at the thought.
Then the video began.
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While the police maintain that the young bat involved wished to "remain anonymous to the public," some speculate the ginger bat may have been one of any young prodigies. The latest and most popular theory was made by ZuuTube star SpritzPoppers (Hamasaki Aneko) that the bat is K-Pop star Kim Yoomin has gained traction in the past few days.
We have been unable to contact Kim Yoonmin or big stepping time for comment. With BST's next concert in Fukuoka next month, this news station hopes to gather more information from this famed ginger bat.
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Sonoko grinned cheekily the next day when Shinichi walked into the classroom. "This is your doing, isn't it," he said.
"Shinichi-kun, whatever do you mean?" Sonoko batted her eyelashes innocently.
"Hamasaki-chan. You asked her to do that." What other explanation could there be? "BST is one of your favorite bands, but it's rather obscure. Only you would know that one of their members has fur this color." He gestured to himself and his fur.
Sonoko only shrugged noncommittally. "What can I say? I'm a genius." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Your mom's right. You're not invincible, you know. I'll cover you for as long as I can, but there's only so much I can do."
He nodded gratefully, taking a small package from his pocket. "Speaking of my mother," he said. "She, ah, wanted me to give you this." He coughed awkwardly, a nervous little flutter from his wings. He walked away before she could open it.
He'd never live it down if Ran saw him giving Sonoko jewelry.