A/N: I don't own Detective Conan. Also, for the purpose of this story, Saguru will be a little bit older instead of his actual age, which is 17 years old.
Chapter 2
We're Not Friends
5 Days Earlier
"You know I can't answer any of your questions, so don't waste your breath, Kuroba." Saguru sighed, sensing Kuroba's curiosity.
"How dangerous is this guy?" Kuroba was irritated, Saguru could tell. Understandable, considering he'd practically shoved Kuroba into a cab with him and offered no explanation as to why he's acting so paranoid (asking the cab driver to do a short detour to go to a destination that's supposed to be a 3-minute drive). "Don't lie to me, Hakuba. You know who he is, don't you?" Kuroba crossed his arms. "And whoever he is, he spooked you."
Saguru rubbed his forehead. "I'm flattered you think I'd be able to figure it out that quickly but I'm not that good." Kuroba still looked like he wanted to press him for details, answers Saguru wasn't willing to give. "Get out."
"What?"
"You said earlier that your place's 10 minutes away," Saguru changed his tone, mentally scolding himself. He's Saguru Hakuba, dammit. And Saguru Hakuba does not lose his temper. "We're here now. And it took us exactly"—Saguru pulled out his pocket watch, a beautiful gold repoussé piece, and flipped it open—"10 minutes and 18.07 seconds."
Kuroba frowned at the obvious dismissal. "Hakuba—"
Something buzzed in Saguru's pocket. Dammit, he couldn't answer this call with Kuroba right next to him. "I'm actually in a bit of a hurry." Kuroba's gaze flickered to the flip phone in Saguru's grasp. The screen flashed on and off as it kept on buzzing. PT, it said on the display.
"Whatever," Kuroba shrugged, turning to open the door. "Thanks for the ride."
"Don't mention it," Saguru absentmindedly said. He flipped the phone open only after he saw Kuroba entering his own home. He gestured for the cab driver to leave and gave his own address.
"Took you a while to pick up. Did I catch you in a bad time?" said a man in English. He had a deep baritone voice that was more soothing than intimidating. Saguru instantly felt himself relax, blinking in surprise when he found his left hand were still in his pocket, clenched tightly around the scrap of paper he'd received earlier.
"I was with a friend earlier, sorry about that. Is everything alright?"
"We need to talk."
"I'll come by later today."
"You do that." Then he hung up.
This is just bloody brilliant, Saguru exhaled tiredly. Of course, Julian would have heard of it by now. Nothing could get past that guy. So, he'd probably going to lecture Saguru about his supposed idiocy and how he had been acting foolhardy. Actually, Julian might just decide to ship him back to London unless Saguru could convince him otherwise.
"We're here," the cab driver said.
"Oh, thanks." Saguru handed him some cash and got out of the car, staring up at the window of the archive room. He needed to find something, anything to persuade Julian to let him stay in Japan. He needed to prove that it was done by the same perpetrator, the Ripper.
Saguru sighed. So much for thinking he'd be able to avoid digging through all the Modern Ripper case reports.
—
Saguru J. Hakuba.
That was his name written on the victim's list, right below Oliver R. Wright, who died because he happened to be with Saguru that night. And despite knowing there'd be pictures in those files, he still puked like some pathetic greenhorn. Which was how Baaya found him in the bathroom, crouched over the toilet, dry heaving.
"Botchama," Baaya said rubbing circles on his back. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"
She'd seen it then, the pictures scattered all over the desk. The pictures of Saguru's extensive injuries. "I don't have a choice. There's been—" he choked, slumping back against the bathtub. "There's been a murder."
Confusion and worry marred her usually calm face. "But you don't usually take murder cases. Especially since—"
"I have to, Baaya. It's him. It's him." Saguru said, burying his face in his hands. He'd never been able to lie to her. She knew that and yet, all this years, not once had she taken advantage of it. "He told me he'd come back for me. He wanted my attention. That's why he killed all those boys. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have— I should have died that day."
"Botchama!" She snapped.
"It's true. If it wasn't for me—"
"It wouldn't have changed anything." She interjected. "Even if you had died that day, there would still be other victims."
"I have— no, I need to find him." Saguru said, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm going to make him pay for everything that he's done. To me, to Ollie, to all those kids he'd hurt."
"You're going to kill him? Is that it?" Baaya asked, strangely composed. As if the idea of Saguru killing anyone was completely normal to her.
"Maybe that's all I'm good at. People keep dying around me."
"I won't have you talk about yourself like that, you hear me?" Baaya scolded him.
Saguru turned his face away. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew all the things that I've done."
"But I do know." Saguru stared at her. The light in her eyes dimmed a bit and her smile had turned sad as she said this. She's telling the truth. "I know what it is you really do and I still think you're a good person. That's how I know you'll do the right thing in the end. The way you always have."
"Thank you, Baaya." He said, stopping himself from hugging her at the last moment. He probably smelled like vomit after puking his gut out. "I'm feel so much better now."
"Go take a shower, Botchama."
"Heh." He chuckled. "I'll do that."
—
For once, the sight of his scars didn't bother him. The jagged line on the right side of his neck from when he tried to cut open Saguru's neck. The multiple scars littered on his chest and abdomen from when Saguru was repeatedly stabbed. The fact that he even managed to survive at all was a miracle.
He splashed cold water on his face. "You need to convince Julian to let you stay here." Saguru said, running his fingers through his hair. He'd better wear it slicked back this time, the way he always had in London. If he wanted Julian to take him seriously, Saguru couldn't look like the seventeen-year old boy he's pretending to be. He should wear something nice too since he needed to stop by the precinct to pick up some reports. A pair of dark pants, navy dress shirt and his usual dark suit jacket would probably do. Satisfied that he looked his own age, Saguru grabbed his gold pocket watch, the summary of case reports he'd prepared and headed to the police station.
Detective Takagi was the first person he saw the moment he stepped out of the elevator. Looking rather frazzled, with the way his tie was hanging loose around his collar and hair slightly messy. A cup of coffee in his hand. He's taking a short break, Saguru concluded. Detective Takagi did look rather exhausted. "I requested a copy of the reports regarding the serial killing case from Detective Sato earlier?"
"Oh right," Takagi said, walking toward his rather messy desk.
"Sorry to bother you when you're busy with all these"—Saguru gestured toward all the papers on the desk— "paperworks."
"It's okay," Takagi rubbed the back of his neck, handing Saguru the copies he requested. "I was just about to see Detective Mouri actually. He's downstairs with Conan-kun." He tilted his head slightly as if considering something. "Actually, want to come with? We could use all the help we can get."
"Maybe some other time," Saguru declined politely. "Do you happen to have another empty room I can borrow for a while? I'm meeting a friend of mine but it's still a bit early to leave."
"Oh yeah, sure. That room over there is free." Takagi said. "Hakuba-san, don't stay out too late, alright?"
"Of course. Thank you, Takagi-san. And please do pass my thanks to Sato-san as well." Saguru said, and made his way to the empty meeting room.
The police kept a rather comprehensive record of everything, Saguru thought as he flipped through the reports. There's no autopsy report yet for the third victim but it seemed that Sato-san was right in her initial assumption. The cause of death would most likely the same as the previous two. The latest victim was a 16-year old high school student. No criminal record except for a reputation as a school delinquent. In fact, there's nothing to warrant him being targeted by the Ripper at all. It's different this time. At least back then the victims had actual criminal records.
The Ripper had chosen his victims based on their astrological sign back then. Saguru had been… the sixth victim. If it's the work of the same monster then most likely these kids were also killed in the order of their astrological sign as well.
Saguru skimmed the first victim's file: Okuda Yusuke. 17 years old. Born on 17 April. An Aries, which was the first astrological sign of the Zodiac. The second victim file: Kurosawa Ryuichi. 18 years old. Born on 2 May. Which made him a Taurus. The last victim's birthday was on the 23rd of May. A Gemini.
Saguru clenched his fists tightly. There would still be 2 others before him. Someone whose astrological signs were Cancer and Leo. Someone who was born around 21 June - 22 July and…
Kuroba. It hit Saguru like a ton of bricks. Kuroba's birthday was on the 21st of June. Saguru shoved the reports into the file jacket and swept everything into his bag in one urgent swoop. He had seen Saguru with Kuroba. It made sense for Kuroba to be his next target now. Saguru dialled Kuroba's phone.
He picked up after the first ring.
"He—"
"Where are you?" Hakuba cut off whatever Kuroba was about to say. "Tell me you're at home."
"No, I—"
"Tell me where you are right now, dammit!" Saguru jerked the door open so hard that Takagi, who had his hand on the door handle, slammed into him.
"Sorry."
"With Aoko and Inspector Nakamori at the police station, geez. What's wrong, Hakuba?"
"Meet me at the lobby. Now. It's urgent."
"Wai—"
Saguru hung up and shoved his phone inside his pocket. He was slamming his palm onto the elevator button when he felt a tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Edogawa-kun. I'm in a bit of hurry right now. I'll talk to you some other time, alright?"
"No, wait." Conan insisted. "I really need to talk to you."
"Some other time." He said, trying to look as apologetic as he could.
That was a lie, of course. Saguru had no intention of discussing this with Conan. As smart as the kid was, he's still just a seven-year old boy. Saguru sent Takagi a grateful look as he distracted Conan long enough so that he could slip into the elevator, wincing inwardly at the determined look on Conan's face.
Seemed like Saguru might just have to avoid the precinct lest he wanted to be interrogated by this boy.
—
"You look…different," was the first thing Kuroba said the moment he saw Saguru, grinning mischievously. "Got a hot date?"
"Let's go somewhere private, shall we?" Saguru grabbed Kuroba's arm and dragged him to his car, tightening his grip around Kuroba's wrist when Kuroba tried pull his arm away.
"What's this all about?" Kuroba asked, before his expression turned cross. "If this is about your stupid theory about me being—"
"Kuroba, you're the killer's next target." Saguru shook his head lightly. "I'm actually pretty sure he'd target you specifically."
"Why would—"
"I can't tell you the details, but you need to trust me on this." Saguru interrupted. "Promise me you won't go wandering alone unless it's absolutely necessary. Just until I deal with him."
"Hold—Hold on a second," Kuroba sent him a confused look. "Deal with him? What does that even mean? And how did you even know this?"
"That's not important," Kuroba opened his mouth to object. "That's not important. Just… be careful, alright? That's it. That's all I wanted to say. You better go back now, I think the Inspector's looking for you."
Kuroba shook his head stubbornly. "You can't just say thing like that and not expect me to ask for some kind of explanation. How do I know this isn't some kind of trap? Is this some kind of elaborate plan to catch Kaitou Kid?"
"Dammit, Kuroba." Saguru snapped, losing his temper. "I wouldn't lie about something like this. And he's not after Kid, he's after you."
"I don't—"
"Fine, believe me or don't, it's up to you. Regardless, I need to go now, so if you could just—" he gestured for Kuroba to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"That's none of your business." Saguru snapped, rubbing his temple in frustration.
Kuroba narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "There's something you're not telling me."
Saguru scoffed. "We're not friends. Why would I tell you anything?"
"Wow," Kuroba said, looking a bit hurt. "Okay. I'll, uh, I better get back to Aoko. I still think you're just being paranoid by the way, but… whatever. Thanks, I guess."
Saguru didn't reply, watching Kuroba until he's back inside the station with Inspector Nakamori and Aoko. As much as Saguru hated to admit it, he did consider Kuroba a friend.
Now that Saguru actually thought about it, Kuroba was the closest thing he had to a friend in Japan. And the idea of anyone hurting Kuroba… No, he'd never let that happen.
