"It's not that simple," Kuroba said through clenched teeth. Saguru looked politely to one side as Haibara and Ran changed Kuroba's bandages. Bandages that unfortunately included some in less than ideal or modest areas. Neither he nor Ran looked particularly uncomfortable with where her hands were at the moment, but Saguru supposed that they'd had time to get used to it considering how often bandages needed changed. He was less comfortable with Haibara, but Kuroba didn't seem to like Haibara much. "You are—were?—fuck, ow—a detective. You know it's not that simple."

"I am well aware it isn't as simple as identify and catch the criminal," Saguru said patiently. Haibara peeled off the bandages along Kuroba's side. The flesh was pink and almost pulpy looking in places, like an angry burn in others. The worst places were dotting with blood. Saguru looked up at the stark white ceiling. "I am also aware that you have been working at this alone for almost a decade. With something this large, you will need assistance. You have two detectives willing to play go between in this. You've found the right stone. You will not be able to be Kid for an indefinite amount of time. What better time to work on actually taking this group out."

"Hakuba." Kuroba hissed, breathing heavy as Haibara or Ran touched something particularly painful. "Shit. You had to choose now of all times to—Ah!" Kuroba was white faced with eyes closed as Haibara cleaned out the deepest parts of the wound. It seemed the worst of the pain had been from trying to flinch away and jarring the rest of his injuries though.

"At this rate you'll die," Saguru said softly. "You'll never be able to retire Kid or rest safely until they're gone and you know you can't do it on your own."

"I don't want to drag anyone else into this!" Kuroba said, voice hoarse from holding back the urge to scream.

Haibara snorted. "Too late. Between the task force and its tag alongs and people you interact with as a civilian—because if they killed your predecessor, they probably have an idea of who you are as a civilian—you're all screwed anyway. They're probably just waiting for the slip up or an opportunity they can cover up."

"What Ai-san means," Ran said, sounding exasperated, "is that we're already involved, most of us because we chose to be."

"You can't be okay with this," Kuroba muttered.

"Shinichi isn't lying or going behind my back with this, and we deal with murderers every day, Kid-san. If I spent all my time worried about what could happen, I'd live a very unhappy life."

"You're retired," Kuroba said to Saguru. It sounded like a plea. Saguru didn't check what expression he had on his face. He didn't really need to do so to know that Kuroba would look like he was on the edge of breaking.

"Kudo-san is not. And it seems there are still things that can bring the detective out of me after all."

Kuroba said something under his breath. "Okay," he said louder, a few minutes later.

Saguru dropped his gaze back to Kuroba and found pain bright eyes locked onto him.

"I have files at the same place I have my doves. They're not enough to catch the group globally, not yet, but I've found as much as I could about the part of it in Japan." He didn't even react this time when Haibara moved to a new area to uncover and clean while Ran rebandaged where she had been. He stared Saguru down like he was trying to put every ounce of seriousness he had into making himself clear. "Only share those files to someone you'd trust with your life, do not lose them because I have limited copies and they have sensitive information." He took a breath that shook as Haibara checked the bullet wound in his leg. "Don't act on any of it until you're sure you can close your traps."

"Of course," Saguru said. "How do I find the files?"

"It's in Kid's room. Digital is on a pen drive kept in a green drawer. Physical files are on the leftmost bottom side of the bookshelf with colored labels." Kuroba paused, clearly unhappy about divulging this. "Touch the painting of my father to find the room."

A hidden room? How appropriate for both a magician and a thief. "Thank you," Saguru said. "I'll look after your doves while I'm there."

Kuroba nodded, just the barest dip of his chin as he scrunched his eyes against the pain of having wounds examined.

"If you're done exchanging business," Haibara said still bent over Kuroba's leg, "go away. This is hassle enough without having him trying to talk."

Saguru would have loved to point out that she was the one who kept him from seeing Kuroba earlier that morning in the brief hour he'd been awake then while she ran Kuroba through some tests to check that the concussion wasn't causing problems, but it would be counter-productive to aggravate the woman keeping Kuroba alive and well.

Kuroba had relented a lot faster than he would have had he been given the space and mental concentration to argue, and Saguru should probably feel guilty about bringing up the topic while Kuroba was having bandages changed, but he wouldn't feel guilty when it meant he'd be one step closer to helping Kuroba in the long run.

Focus on the end goal. On finding information, piecing together plans, and not on Kuroba's open wounds or how pale his face went when Haibara touched his leg. There was Kuroba's family home, and the doves to feed, and a secret room to find and files to unbury. There were phone calls to make and research to be done. And for once, Saguru did not care what the motives of these criminals were, not on a level of trying to understand what could drive them to murder. No, he wanted to know only so much as would be useful to weave the web of ties holding the organization together so he could unravel it bit by bit.

*o*o*

Kaitou Kid had a Bat Cave. Saguru laughed to himself, alone in Kuroba's family home as he took in the hidden room. There was even a car down here. Kidmobile? That wounded ridiculous even in his head. How did the car get there? How did it get out? Saguru didn't see anything that looked like it would open up. No hatch up above or hinge in the basement room walls. The room was a treasure trove into Kid's mind from the prototypes being built on the desk to classic Kid tools retired to their places of honor on a shelf. Like Kid's card gun. The original Kid uniform was fitted over a mannequin and Saguru could make out the rips and repairs in it and pair them with Kid's early career—Kuroba's early career; Saguru didn't recognize signs from Toichi's career on it, almost as if it had been pristine for Kuroba to find.

Saguru could spend a week in this room and only scratch the surface of what he could learn from it. He could pick apart Kuroba and everything Kuroba felt about his father in this room, and what sort of man Kuroba Toichi had been. There were files for every heist Kid had ever held and notes for dozens of future ones, meticulous research on gemstones that showed so much time and effort poured into this that Saguru wondered all over again how Kuroba functioned. Being allowed in here was a stunning amount of trust coming from Kuroba. It was humbling.

It made Saguru want to be worthy of that trust. So he didn't touch any of Kuroba's notes or prototypes. He looked at the old Kid uniform, but didn't draw conclusions as to why it had its place of honor. He didn't touch the stereo system or the records and he didn't mess with any of the files beyond the ones Kuroba had instructed him to get.

There were a lot of files.

Fifteen years was a long time to gather information.

Saguru carried them back into the living room in batches. There were files on shell companies. Assets and tracking the incongruous outflow of funds. Files with pictures and names and dates meticulously collected and added to. Files on murderers. Files on the police. Files on people who had died in connection to the group. Files on scientists. Saguru divided the files by type as he came across them. He stared long and hard at several files containing every incident of violence at Kid heists and the repercussions of the violence. More than the research on gemstones and heist plans, this felt like the culmination of Kuroba's life work. The heists were steeped with artistry. These files were filled with Kuroba's stubbornness and spite and his incredible mind for detail.

"I am not going to be able to carry these back myself," Saguru muttered, eying the pile. It had taken up a whole shelf, and stacked in two groups, it was almost to his knees. "Kuroba was never this meticulous with his class notes." He would call Mum to send a car over and take the files to his apartment. From there, he could bring them to Kudo bit by bit and avoid revealing Kuroba's family home in the process.

The files taken care of, Saguru closed the secret passage. It was terribly tempting to spend more time in it, but that felt like a violation of trust. The last thing he wanted was for Kuroba to regret letting him in.

Kuroba's birds were kept in an attic room that functioned as a dovecote. The room's shutters were open to let air flow freely, and the ground was covered with a layer of sawdust to catch the bird droppings. It smelled a bit, a consequence of going untouched for a few days with—Saguru did a quick count—fifteen birds in one room. Saguru wasn't sure he was up to clearing out soiled sawdust in favor of a clean layer, but he could at least replace the food and water and give the birds some attention.

Doves were nothing like his hawk Watson had been. Watson was a predator and wild at heart even if she had been tamed. These doves were thoroughly domesticated and lacked any sort of self-preservation instinct when faced with a stranger. Two birds flew and landed on Saguru's shoulders as he filled up dishes. Others left the various sized and shaped boxes around the room to watch him with interest. Despite the differences, it was soothing to feel the brush of feathers and the weight of a bird against him again. He'd had to give Watson back to his cousin after he was shot years ago. He hadn't been able to care for her in the aftermath and it was something that he'd regretted despite visiting her for years after whenever he had reason to see his cousin.

Doves were soothing in their sounds too, soft coos and rustling that made for pleasant white noise in the background. The one on his shoulder ruffled its feathers happily when Saguru pet it. It was a pity Saguru couldn't bring one to Kuroba. Animals were soothing in the wake of trauma. But animals also brought germs and the last thing Saguru wanted was to increase Kuroba's risk of infection.

Instead of thinking about that, Saguru thought about the Kuroba that must have raised these birds. The hours spent with them just like Saguru was now, a hand out with feed and doves resting on any perch they could find. Undoubtedly they were well trained, but without knowing what that training entailed, he couldn't test the extent of it. Sometime, if—when—Kuroba was healthy again, perhaps Saguru could visit with him and see Kuroba interact with them. Saguru always had been a bird person.

He spent a lot more time in the dovecote than he had in the secret room. When he left, he left behind happy birds with plenty of food and water. Saguru left happier too.

*0*0*

Research was a slow and tedious process. Ordinarily it didn't bother Saguru much as he enjoyed exploring topics in minute details and seeing all sides of a case. As Saguru and Kudo worked through Kuroba's files, Saguru was finding it harder to reach the level of concentration research ordinarily brought on. Unlike most cases Saguru worked on, this was personal, and every moment spent on it was heavy with the knowledge that it was another moment that the world was not yet safe for Kuroba to exist in.

"This is impossibly complex," Saguru sighed, pushing files away from himself for the moment. Data for several dozen people crowded his brain, names and faces and lists of illicit activities burned into his retinas.

Kudo snorted. "Welcome to my life," he muttered. "Kid's disturbingly good at finding out the details though, isn't he?"

"He is." There was more information than Saguru would consider to ask for, and he had been someone to take exhaustive notes on behaviors and abilities. Kuroba's note taking was a step above that with things like habits, familial background, and minute details of how they were involved with the organization with as much depth as Kuroba could gather.

"I guess this sort of stuff explains how he can impersonate people so well. How much time does it take to build this sort of profile?" Kudo mused.

"For impersonation?" Saguru had seen Kuroba successfully pull off something like that after only knowing the person a short time. But all of those impersonations had been quick and with limited interactions. Most of Kuroba's longer impersonations were of people he knew well. "Brief impersonations require only enough time to observe mannerisms and speech patterns as well as a basic personality. Something like that, perhaps a few hours observation at most. Long term?" Well, there was a reason Kuroba had worn Saguru's identity for long periods of time before. "He prefers more familiarity. But taking in those sort of details in second nature. He doesn't consciously think about it."

"He pulled off pretending to be me without ever meeting me," Kudo muttered.

"Your reputation proceeded you," Saguru said, amused. He doubted Kuroba would have been able to pull it off for long with someone who knew Kudo well, though. Not personally anyway. A professional Kudo would be fairly simple to pull off. A bit how Saguru would have been easy to pull off because he had some very memorable habits that Kuroba could have taken to convince a casual bystander.

"Or something." Kudo shook his head. "There's all the information we need and more, but there's almost too much information at the moment to get a concept of what we're looking at."

"Can't see the forest for the trees?"

"Exactly."

"There is probably a summary in this somewhere," Saguru said. "He does like compilations of information just as much as minutia. Although, given that he might have intended to hand this to the authorities at some point, perhaps this is Kid's idea of petty revenge for all the years of chasing him. Information overload to make up for a lack of it."

Kudo snickered into a file folder. "Sounds about up Kid's alley." He shut the folder, stretched. "While I could keep reading, I'm taking a break. Ran doesn't like it when I spend too long locked in my own mind."

"It does help to take breaks…" It was so tempting not to though. With nowhere to go and no obligations to fulfil, Saguru could have continued throwing himself into this until he was too tired to hold his eyes open. Theoretically, he might be too tired to have nightmares if he did that as well. Sleep was not his friend at the moment. But, he wasn't in high school anymore, and if he did do something like that, he'd be paying for it for the next few days with caffeine cravings and headaches.

"It's been interesting seeing what connects to what I've found over the years," Kudo said leading Saguru out of the study.

Saguru stumbled slightly. This was the first Kudo was bringing up any investigating he had done on his own. They'd been looking over the files for several days even.

Kudo laughed at Saguru's raised eyebrow. "I might have tried to keep my nose out of large scale crime organizations after everything with the Black Org, but you know what it's like. You can't not notice things. I haven't looked as deep as most of Kid's files, but they are matching up to events over the years. I bet you every detective who's dealt with Kid more than once has at least a mental file on this sort of thing."

"Because Kid's so well liked," Saguru said, his sarcasm just a beat too slow.

"Kid doesn't murder, returns most of what he steals, and actively tries not to hurt the people chasing him. Compared to working murders, it's pretty relaxing."

"Relaxing." Relaxing was the last word Saguru would assign to a Kid heist.

"For me at least," Kudo clarified. "Of course you can argue that Kid also causes property damage and that there has been a lot of collateral lately. But give me Kid over most of the people I deal with." He grinned and he looked so much like Kuroba when he smiled like that that it was a bit baffling how two people could look so similar and not be related. "But like I said. Kid's actually pretty well liked among detectives. You'd be surprised at how many would protect him. Makes you wonder what they could accomplish if they all pooled resources."

"Are you suggesting bringing in more people?" Saguru asked.

Kudo shrugged. "We're bringing more people in anyway."

That was a good point. "Nakamori-keibu undoubtedly has information. I am uncertain if either generation if Nakamori would be willing to openly work to help Kid though." Aoko would have files. She hated Kuroba, but she loved him too and didn't want him dead. She'd find everything she could about people after Kid. And Nakamori Ginzo had spent so many years chasing Kid, he might even have information dating back as far as Toichi. At the same time he'd stubbornly refused to believe that the first Kid was not the same as Kuroba as Kid. It wouldn't hurt to check though…

"I know Heiji would help. Sera too, though Kid pisses her off." Kudo tilted his head to one side. "You don't think Nakamori would help?"

"Not if I asked," Saguru said with a grimace. "Probably. I am not her favorite person at the moment."

"I noticed tension at the heist. I hadn't realized you even knew each other." Kudo led them into the kitchen, grabbing glasses for water. A plate of leftovers from last night's dinner joined it. At the sight of the food, Saguru realized he had not eaten in well over eight hours, not since a rice ball with a cup of tea at five in the morning when another nightmare woke him and he'd decided to start his day.

Saguru took the plate and set it at the table. "We attended the same high school actually. I was…not Nakamori Aoko's favorite person."

"She thought you were usurping her father at the heists?" Kudo guessed. He passed Saguru plates to eat from and chopsticks. They sat and descended on the food, apparently both feeling the distance from that morning's breakfast.

"In part, though even then she was very against Kid and would have been glad to see progress made in catching him. I made an accusation against one of her close friends at one point, and that ultimately earned me her disapproval. Aoko-san is very loyal. It takes a good deal to shake that."

"…You accused someone in your class of being Kid, didn't you," Kudo said. He gave Saguru a calculating look.

"I neither confirm nor deny."

"In other words, yes." Kudo went back to his food. "You know, if I wanted I could have figured out who he was ten times over by now."

"I am aware."

"You're pretty loyal too," Kudo said.

Saguru chose not to answer that. Kudo Shinichi might be a lot easier to get along with than Saguru expected (especially someone who counted Hattori Heiji among his close friends) but there was only so far that budding friendship was going to take him at the moment.

*0*0*

It took several long moments before Saguru could work up the nerve to knock on Aoko's door. He knew he wasn't welcome here. Not after hiding Kuroba and not calling and not sending Takumi straight home. Saguru knew this, but he was here anyway, because at the end of the day Aoko was someone who also wanted to see Kid's shadows arrested.

There was a long silence after he knocked. A dog barked across the street. Perhaps he should have called ahead. Calling ahead would have meant Aoko would be geared up to fight when he got there though. Saguru had hoped that catching her off guard would let him get to the point without being blown up at. It didn't do much good if no one was home.

He raised a hand to knock again, but the door was yanked violently inward. Aoko stood in the doorway, shoulders squared and a frown etching deep lines across her forehead. "Hakuba," she said.

"Aoko-san." Saguru squared his shoulders right back. "We need to talk."

"We can start with how your official report barely tells anything," Aoko said. "And your private one wasn't much better." She was guarded, but not outright aggressive; that was about as much as Saguru could hope for really.

"Please," Saguru said.

Aoko didn't soften or give an inch, but she did step aside. "Don't make me regret letting you in," she said.

Saguru dipped his head and left his shoes neatly on the genkan. There was another pair of shoes there already, male shoes, well-worn and only a size smaller than Saguru's. Takumi's shoes were absent entirely. "Takumi-kun is out?" Saguru asked to be sure.

"Yes." Aoko glanced over her shoulder, coldly assessing. "I wouldn't have let you in to talk right now if he was here."

Ah. So he now counted as a bad influence? Or would she have worried about him overhearing something he shouldn't? Saguru pushed the thoughts aside, following Aoko to the kitchen. Nakamori Ginzo sat at the table. He had a beer in front of him and looked far far older than Saguru remembered last seeing him. Older than Saguru's parents, and Saguru's father was almost a decade older than Nakamori was. There were deep lines on his face and his hair was almost all gray now, shot through with white on the edges. Even his mustache was gray. Nakamori looked at Saguru like he wasn't sure whether to greet him or glare at him. Their working relationship had always been a complicated one.

"Nakamori-san," Saguru said, breaking the silence with a nod of respect.

Nakamori grunted at him and took a swallow of his beer. "Hakuba-kun." There was a cane propped near him, even more worn than the one Saguru had lost. Saguru had an absurd vision of Nakamori waving it at Kid's fleeing back like an old man chasing neighborhood kids off his lawn. "Not sure if I should welcome you back or tell you to go the hell back where you came from," Nakamori grumbled.

"I'm afraid I have no intention of going back to London anytime soon," Saguru said. He slid into a chair next to Aoko's. She still had a frown on her face, but she clunked down a can of beer next to her own for Hakuba. He eyed it. It was a bad time to refuse hospitality, in whatever form it was given but… "I don't drink alcohol."

Aoko snorted. "Of course you don't. Well it's beer or water; I'm not feeling like making tea."

"I am fine without," Saguru said. He took a breath. "We need to talk about Kid."

Now it was Nakamori's turn to snort. "You have hell of timing as usual. We were talking about last week's heist. For all the good talking it to death will do," he added bitterly.

"…how are the officers injured from the bombs?" Saguru asked.

"The worst were just released from intensive care," Aoko said. She sipped at her beer unlike Nakamori's periodic gulps, glaring off at an unfocused point in the distance. "Thanks for asking. How's Kid?"

"…" Saguru glanced at Nakamori, but his bitterness wasn't directed at Saguru. If anything, he looked interested in hearing rather than wanting to tear into Saguru for being in contact with a criminal. "Recovering, but slowly. No infections so far, no apparent long term damage from the concussion, and he can keep a coherent conversation."

"And?" Aoko asked, because there was always an and.

"And he's already stir crazy when he isn't caught up in being in pain. He is still in a sling and a leg brace, a leg which is still questionable if it won't need surgery at a later date, covered in road burns, and can't breathe too deeply without jarring his ribs." Saguru huffed out a breath, feeling defensive and irritated even though he had known coming here he'd be questioned. "What do you want me to say? I listed his injuries in the report I gave you. You can gather how long it's going to take to heal from that list alone, without the possibilities of setbacks."

"No stupid stunts? No attempts to escape from where you're keeping him? No signs of people sniffing around looking for him?" Aoko asked.

"You make it sound like I kidnapped him," Saguru retorted. "No, even if he were capable of moving without making his injuries worse, he knows he's better off where he is for the moment. And if anyone has been looking for him, I haven't noticed." He had had to dodge a reporter once since the heist, but that was the extent of the bother so far as he had seen. No men in dark clothing. No suspicious shadows. No feelings of being watched.

"You would think you'd be under watch," Aoko said. "Since I know I am." She took another sip like this was nothing to be alarmed about. "I've been under watch for years," she said in response to whatever mix of emotion was showing on his face. She snorted again. "Don't know what the hell they get from it. They have someone on the inside; they can see ninety percent of my waking life that way with how much I work."

"Do you know who it is?" Saguru asked.

"If I knew," Aoko said, voice dark as a pit trap, "I'd have their badge and follow the damn trail til the whole adder's nest of them was gone. They had to be the one to set the bombs. We did a sweep not two hours before the heist for just that sort of thing. Multiple sweeps with different divisions just to prevent this sort of shit from happening. I don't even know all the people that were there that day. I have no way of knowing who the hell did it."

"Or if someone was disguised," Saguru said. "Not Kid," he added at the deeper scowl between both Nakamori's brows.

"Of course not Kid," Nakamori said, surprisingly vehement. "I hate Kid, but he's not a murderer. Even that Nightmare case—! When everything was looked over, it was more an accident than a murder. Hell, Kid trying to save him wouldn't be out of the question with his patterns." There had been a glove, Saguru remembered. A glove and a mask shot by a card. A glove that Saguru had taken to try to hide the truth about Connery. A truth that came out later anyway when going through Connery's possessions. He hadn't thought about that in a long time. "Kid's not a murderer," Nakamori insisted. "He won't even use a real gun."

They were all silent a moment, caught in memories of things Kid had and had not done, and the injuries and deaths that had fallen upon heists over the years. "You both know that Kid has been one wrong move away from getting shot for years," Saguru said. "I expect you've gathered information about it?"

"Of course." Aoko took a swig of beer at that, bitterness compounding. "Funnily enough, that information gets redacted. Or goes missing. Or things never get investigated. Conveniently, all the missing stuff gets pinned on Kid, like how he swapped out the DNA samples and files you had on him."

"That's officially," Saguru said. "Unofficially, I imagine you've taken quite a bit of data that you probably shouldn't have." Both Aoko and Nakamori twitched. "It is frustrating when your proof keeps vanishing." And wasn't that a bitterness he knew intimately? But this was about Kid and Kuroba, not Saguru's past. "I imagine you have files on every incident bullets have been shot at a Kid heist, every injury, every hint of something suspicious, hmm?"

"What," Aoko growled, "are you driving at, Hakuba?"

"You're not the only one," Saguru said softly, treading carefully. "And Kid has been gathering files for years. Those files have ideas on who your moles might be."

"We don't know how high this goes up," Aoko said. "Hakuba, it's not just our jobs in danger, it's lives. One wrong move and you, your coworkers, your family, all of them can end up dead."

"I know." He stared her down, willing her to understand. "Do you think I don't know? Aoko-san, I've already lost someone I loved. I am well aware of the dangers that getting involved entail. I've decided it's worth it anyway." He leaned forward. "Between what you and other detectives have collected, and what Kid himself has found, it might just be enough to catch them for good."

"We caught some of their men over the years, Hakuba-kun," Nakamori said. He stared down at his drink. "Most of them didn't live long enough to get to the station let alone stand trial."

"If you had faces of snipers, if you had names of moles and shell companies and proof of what was going on behind them?" Saguru pressed.

"And what is going on?" Aoko asked. "What is the mess Kid's caught in? Are they smugglers? Drug dealers? Human traffickers? What? We know they have assassins. They're not part of the Yakuza. That's about all we've managed to rule out."

"Think more internationally than that," Saguru said. "Instead of purely a shell business model, picture a cult. You have your inner circle of higher ups, your assassins, and then you have the people that go out and convert people to their cause. They're in a lot of places, but they're deep into pharmaceuticals and cosmetics and the intersection of the two."

"Cosmetics?" Aoko curled her lip. "You're telling me a criminal organization is neck deep in selling anti-aging creams and blemish concealer."

"Exactly." Saguru smiled. "Reversing the effects of aging. Stopping the hands of time."

Both father and daughter were giving him looks like he'd finally been around Kuroba too much and his crazy had worn off.

"I am not telling you I believe that anything like that is possible," Saguru said, waving a hand as if to clear away the thought. "What I am saying is that our group believes in it. Enough to search for a gemstone that is said to grant immortality. Enough to try and create something similar on their own. And enough to kill to keep others from getting it."

"So that would explain the focus to gemstones," Aoko said. "Fine. And Kid is, what, trying to get his hands on it first? To what end?"

"So they can't use it, mostly. To destroy it if possible."

"But it doesn't exist. That would be a never ending task and you can't tell me he plans to spend the rest of his life being Kid. You can't."

Aoko's voice broke. Oh. Saguru looked at Nakamori. They both knew, didn't they? That Kid was Kuroba.

"Did he ever explain it to you?" Saguru asked softly. "Why he is Kid?"

"He tried." Aoko gave Saguru a smile that was more bared teeth than smile. Her eyes were a bit damp at the edges. "I never let him get it all out. It didn't matter why. It doesn't matter why. No matter why, it's still the same result."

Saguru looked at Nakamori. Nakamori shrugged. "You were right," he said. "I didn't want to see it. I didn't want it to have been Toichi. I still don't like that it's Kaito."

"It started with Toichi," Saguru said. "Or Kid did at least. From what I've read or been told, he refused to help steal for the group and openly acted against them, so they killed him. I don't know what motivated him to actively prevent them from getting their targets, but for Kuroba it has always been about finishing what Toichi started. And exposing the group if at all possible. As it stands he doesn't believe it is possible."

"And you do." Aoko finished her drink and opened the one she'd brought out for Saguru. "I am too sober for this," she muttered. She took a long swallow and slammed the can back down. "Okay. Why do you think it is possible?"

"Because so far you—Kid, Kudo, any other detective with any interest in this—have been working alone. And I am proposing a group effort. No one brings down a crime organization alone. If we pool resources and connection, trade information and bring in only those we would trust with our lives, we can pull this off."

"Because that goes so well," Aoko said. "The thing about crime groups these days is that you can't pin them down. Take the Yakuza. They've got legal fronts. They cut deals with police to keep the peace, and if someone does get caught, either the evidence vanishes, a fall guy appears to take the blame, or their lawyers drag on a legal battle until they are either free or it's too costly to keep it going. You can't just take out the edges. You have to hit the core. And Hakuba, I've worked in the police force for almost thirteen years now. Tou-san worked it over thirty years. There's just things you can't do. It's all caught up in bureaucracy."

"I have worked with the police most of my life," Saguru pointed out drily. In addition to having a police father.

Aoko rolled her eyes. "Working with the police is different than being on the police force. And don't point out your father, for fuck's sake, he was high up enough he could bend rules and get away with them. The rest of us can't get away with that shit, and we shouldn't anyway."

Saguru sniffed, feeling a bit stung by that. "I stand by that we can do this," he said, slipping into a more distant, formal tone without meaning to.

Aoko and Nakamori exchanged a glance. "And who else have you talked to?" Nakamori said, some understanding being reached between them.

"Aside from Kid? Kudo Shinichi."

"Kudo?" Aoko grimaced. "He's a great detective, but…"

"He's also known to be aggressive in chasing Kid," Nakamori grunted. "Not as much of an arrogant ass as he was as a teen, but, no offense, I'm sure you've grown up since then too."

"I wasn't thrilled to go to Kudo for help either, but out of anyone, he has had firsthand experience taking down a crime organization." Saguru leaned back in his chair. "And I will admit, he is easier to work with than I had anticipated. He is surprisingly willing to help considering that in a roundabout way he is helping Kid. He still had connections to the CIA and Interpol from taking down the other crime organization." Saguru met both their gazes. "We all would like Kid to take off his mantle. Taking out this organization is the only way to guarantee both that this will happen, and that Kid will survive to do so."

"I want him arrested," Aoko said, though she didn't sound like she meant it. She didn't argue his point though.

"I think we would all prefer he live more." Saguru said.

"Yeah." Aoko sighed. Her shoulders slumped and her forehead rested on the hand holding her beer can for a moment. "I have a handful of officers I'd trust with not just my life, but Takumi's," she said finally, looking up at Saguru. "And I have ten years of semi-legal documents and personal notes. I can't promise any official help; I can't be sure who of my higher ups is safe to trust or not at this point. I can promise my own help, in what little free time I have, and whatever I or the rest of the task force lifers have dug up though."

"That's more than I was asking for," Saguru said. He looked at Nakamori.

Nakamori scowled. "I just don't want to attend another funeral," he said gruffly. Saguru waited. Nakamori likely still thought of Kuroba as something of a son. Betrayal or not, there was too much history and he had watched Kuroba grow up. "I don't know what help it will be, but I have my own personal files since Toichi's time. Maybe looking back almost thirty years will help."

"Thank you." He would take what they would give, all of it, and press only so far as was safe for now. They would do the rest. Two people so tangled up in Kid and all that surrounded him, they couldn't help but get caught up in this too. Both Aoko and her father were good at tunnel vision and chasing the end goal. If Saguru could keep that end goal shifted to the organization, they'd be the most stubborn among them in chasing any lead they could find.

"I'll talk to Kudo tomorrow," Aoko said. She sounded like the energy had drained from her and like she'd rather sink into the table and never move again than contemplate the mechanics of taking out a criminal organization. Saguru sympathized. None of them had been sleeping well lately. "Oh yeah, your report." Aoko lifted her head to frown at him. "How did you get Kid out of there? And clean up the crash site? Or get him medical attention because I know you didn't take him to a hospital."

"I called some help," Saguru said. "They took care of cleanup and had medical connections."

"…Now I'm wondering if you have Yakuza connections," Aoko muttered.

"It wasn't Chikage," Nakamori said. "She only just got back to Japan." And wasn't that still a pressing question. Why had she been abroad? And why had it taken a week to return even after Saguru's phone call about Kuroba's injuries?

Kuroba Chikage was as much of a mystery as her son could be at times. More so even, because Saguru had only met her once. "I don't have Yakuza connections," Saguru said out loud. "You would know if I did."

"I'd say you were too straight laced, but clearly you're not as straight and narrow as I thought you were in high school." And wasn't that laced with double meanings. Aoko sighed. "Keep your secrets I guess. What's one more upon the heap of them in my life?" Nakamori grunted in agreement.

They'd agreed though, and agreed to work with Kudo too. "I should go."

"Back to Kid or back to home?" Aoko asked.

"Home, then Kid," Saguru said. He could see Aoko filing that away, that Kid was not at Saguru's place, and that Saguru both knew Kid's current location and was visiting it frequently. "I will let you know if anything changes with his condition."

Aoko nodded. She rested her cheek on one hand, blue eyes boring into Saguru like if she looked hard enough she could pick him apart. "He doesn't deserve you looking out for him like this," she said abruptly.

"It's not about what he does or does not deserve," Saguru said. The words came out slow, heavy as he turned them over in his head. Things like deserving or not… No one truly deserved anything. Not anything more than being treated as another human being with all that that entailed. "Right now it's about need." And Kuroba did need someone watching his back. He needed someone to care. He needed a listening ear because he didn't really have one outside of Saguru. "And want," he added. "Kid needs someone to lean on and I want to be someone he trusts to do so."

From the complicated mix of frustration, bemusement, and wry resignation, Aoko got what he wasn't putting into words there and all that was implied beneath it. Nakamori was a step behind; he hadn't seen who Saguru was now or his interactions with Kuroba to put the whole picture together.

"You're an idiot," Aoko said.

"Probably," Saguru agreed. "I would regret any other decision though."

Aoko flapped a hand at him. "Fine. Go be stupid with Bakaito. We'll help with your insane scheme. Let us drink in peace you teetotaler."

Saguru laughed. That was probably going to be as close to Aoko accepting his emotions for Kuroba as he got. It lessened the knot of guilt surrounding those emotions some. After all, he knew she still loved Kuroba even if she hated him too. Saguru reached for his cane.

"Goodnight, Aoko-san, Nakamori-san. Thank you again for your help."