USUAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES!
Dark eerie silence filled the run down basement. The echoes of the little droplets of rain only added to the gloominess of the night. A tall lanky figure of a man shadowed the night. He stealthily moved to the basement's storage room, wisely unsheathing his gun out of its upholstery. He made a few signals to his outside backup and forcefully kicked the door open. Like some macho superhero, he was inside the room in an instant. His face formed a tight grin as he surveyed the empty storage area.
They were gone.
Just like every damn time.
They had been playing cat and mouse for nearly a year and the results were always the same.
What a slippery bunch but he would expect nothing less from the black organization though that doesn't mean that they will never be outwitted. Every failed encounter, he knew, was a step closer to finally closing down his lifelong enemy.
"No trace of them." he reported in his mouthpiece.
He grimaced as he heard the explicit swearing of one of the detectives in command before he expelled a long sigh and gave orders to the men in stand by.
Ah, the sweetness of the English language.
"This will be one hell of a chase, Kudo."
I was counting on it.
00000000000
Shinichi fluidly drove his black bullet-proof sports car to his well guarded house. He decided to move out of his parents' house while the Black organization is still at large. The less people involved, the better for everyone.
He momentarily stopped at the gate as a laser scanned his plate number and a swiping machine emerged from the ground. He took his card from his jean pocket, swiped it and typed his password in record time.
Authentication Approved, a male robot-like voice confirmed.
The heavy electric gate opened.
He stepped on the gas pedal and entered.
After ten seconds the gates abruptly closed.
His stony fortress emerged from his peripheral vision.
His phone vibrated.
"Kudo."
"Manners, Kudo. Manners." the man from the other line flatly stated.
"Hn."
"Where's your sense of humor tentei-san."
He rubbed his temple, his migraine suddenly coming. He could hear a woman's squeaky voice from the background.
Without hesitation, he removed his earpiece and set it on loud speaker. Not a moment too long the booming voice of Kazuha vibrated from the mouthpiece.
Tough luck.
He could hear the two fighting over who gets to talk. He looked at his phone, he could even imagine hearing the echo of their voices coming from his freaking doorstep.
Really.
Realization hit him.
Damn.
He took long strides and swang the front door with a jerk. And true to that, he saw Hattori and Kazuha wrestling for the phone.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
They froze.
"Surprise!" they said sheepishly.
"How the hell did you get in?"
Kazuha pouted while Hattori shrugged.
"To visit you while else."
"You have to do better than that." Shinichi said testily.
"Lighten up, Kudo." We'll talk business later.
Shinichi did not miss the serious intent in his eyes. He stepped sidewardly to let them in.
"Nice place Kudo-kun. If Ran was still..." Hattori's reflex was a second too late before he was able to muffle her innocent remark.
"Hey!"
Kazuha opened his mouth to start their infamous bickering session but suddenly sobered when he saw Shinichi's sudden darkened face. She faced Shinichi contritely, "I'm sorry... It's just that it had been almost a year that she was gone. And seeing you... I just can't help but miss her. Why did it have to happen to her... why."
He tried to block it out of his memory and yet it was as though it only happened yesterday.
He was back. His body was back.
He looked at Haibara, suddenly uncertain. "Are you sure this is permanent?"
Both insulted and annoyed, Haibara gave him a withering look. "This is different from the usual antidote that I give you. After a minute of intake and no instant reaction took place then I'm afraid you might have said goodbye to Kudo Shinichi forever."
He paled.
Satisfied with his reaction, she continued, "Don't insult my abilities Kudo. The fact that you're standing there as Kudo Shinichi means that the antidote worked. I guarantee it with Dr. Agasa's life."
Tha gaping old man opened his mouth to complain but was still too stunned to actually voice it out. He was more awed than ever by the breakthrough yet again of science.
"I don't know how to thank you enough."
"Treat this as we're even Kudo-kun, you would have not been in this mess in the first place if I hadn't invented that drug."
He nodded and slowly left Dr. Agasa's amrerican abode.
Once out, he slowly examined his old self, still bewildered with the turn of events.
I'm finally back. Get ready for me idiot.
His shaking body brought him out of his state of remembrance and into the present, silently he excused himself for a moment, trying to regain his balance. He clenched his fist. On the same day he was Shinichi again, there was no hesitation as he took the first available flight to Japan. He never regarded himself as a retard but that day was an exception. He was practicing his speech on his flight back. He did not sleep a wink and neither did the people on the plane he added with dry humor. Well how the heck would he practice his speech when he did not know how bad he sounded right? So once he hopped out of the plane with everyone's relief, he traveled as fast as he could to Ran. And
what he witnessed almost broke his heart, for he did see Ran but the problem was he would never see her laugh as he delivered his soppy little speech or how she would try to make him grovel into gaining her forgiveness and regaining her love for his to keep. She was, even in his thoughts he choked the words out, dead.
And after that everything was a blur for him. His life. His very existence. Totally meaningless. But he'd avenged her death no matter how long it will take. The black organization will rot in hell if it was the last thing he would do.
A call from the office broke him from his internal grief. He ended the call in seconds and surged pass the his two Japanese friends. "I have to go."
0000000000000
He drove his car with all its arrogance, placing a police siren on top. He was not that foolish to want to get a thousand dollar fine for speeding.
He was at the crime scene at record time. Used to the stench of death, he probed in the crime scene, the sight of death a normal occurrence to him. The man was shot in the forehead on dead center. Only an expert expert marksman can shoot with such accuracy.
He took the offered gloves to search the man but movement caught his attention. He stealthily extricated himself from the investigation and followed the shadow from a distance. He itched to hold his gun but any movement would cause the attention of his shooter. They passed numerous dark deserted alleys with Shinichi keeping his presence unknown. The shadow rounded the corner. He leaned on the wall and counted from five.
One.
His brain mapped a mental image of the place.
Two.
He drew a steady breath.
Three.
He looked down at the bulge on his left.
Four.
He composed himself.
Five.
He sprang into action.
He surveyed his surroundings. Nothing. There was no sign of the shooter.
Damnation.
He heard the distinct sound of a helicopter. He ran as fast as he could out of the dark narrow ally. He saw the helicopter just a few feet above him. Unhesitating, he grabbed the landing skid and pushed himself up the helicopter's body. Bracing himself, he yanked the door open and lunged himself forward.
It was empty.
He glanced at the control unit, it was on auto-pilot.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He looked to the pilot's seat in time to glare at the bomb.
Thirty seconds before detonation.
He hastily opened the door but it won't budge.
Time was running out.
He took his gun and shot the hinges and the lock.
Fifteen seconds.
He kicked the door once, twice, he already lost count, until it collapsed down the hard pavement. He followed suit, jumping and rolling off the ground. His back ached but he swiftly stood and ran as the helicopter exploded.
He felt a stung in his back but had no time to check the extent of the damage as he heard another helicopter.
With weak knees, he gingerly headed towards the noise and swore.
He saw another helicopter a building above him.
"Nice show detective, if only for the entertainment." the shooter taunted.
He decided against drawing his gun. The helicopter was too far out of range. Instead, he studied the masked shooter, noting the fact that it was a she. The black catsuit outlined her womanly curves in a fashion fit for any man's dream. If only he could see if the face was a match with the body.
Stupid male hormones, he had no business fantasizing the criminal.
He heard her laughter.
Holy shit. He found the melodious laughter sultry and... vaguely familiar.
Reading his train of thoughts, she took off her mask. Soft brown angel's hair leapt freely from the hold.
Blue eyes met blues eyes.
Shinichi's heart thundered.
"Remember this face detective. We might be seeing a lot of each other."
How the heck would he ever forget that face. It was in his dream every damn night.
Shinichi waited for recognition to dawn her eyes. He waited for those beautiful blue eyes to soften for him and only for him but it remained emotionless and distant.
"Ran." the name sounded rusty from his lips.
"Ran?"
"Your name."
"My name? Hmmmm. Let's add a little mystery to our game won't we. Till next time detective."
She gave a mock salute as the helicopter slowly ascended farther from his reach.
000000000000
No. It was not Ran.
Ran was never like that.
She was all goodness.
He clenched and unclenched his fist.
He saw Ran lying in the coffin with his very own eyes. With his very own eyes damn it. How would he not know the difference. That was Ran he saw a year ago. Dead. In the coffin. It was her.
His denial tasted vile from his mouth but there was no way in hell that that was Ran. The only thing they had in common was the face. And it was easy enough for anyone including the black organization to undergo facial surgery.
But how about the hair and the eyes? And the fact of how easy it was to find a woman with not only the same hair and eye color but also the same body.
No. How could that be Ran?
She was mad at him yes but not mad enough to join the black organization. And why was it that she did not remember him? Was she acting a part? Playing a role?
No. Not Ran. Definitely not Ran. Ran was dead. She was better off dead than being used as a tool by the black organization.
He would not accept that in trying to protect her, he was actually the one who led her to danger.
No, not in a million years.
He was bottling his rage and capping the immense hurt from resurfacing.
How could the black organization ruin the memory of her.
A gentle hand on his shoulder took him out of his ugly thoughts.
"Kudo..." Heiji started, suddenly unsure if he should tell him this new development while Shinichi was out of sorts.
When he entered the house just a while ago, his face was blank, silently battling his inner demons.
All of them were since she died. But he knew Kudo was battling more than they were.
"Spit it out."
He sighed. "A week ago, Mouri-san and Eri-san received a mysterious caller from an unknown source... at first they were mad. How could anyone do such a terrible, hurtful prank but as the caller asked them to hear him out. It sounded possible."
Somehow that made Shinichi want to vomit.
"They were distressed for days. Uncertain of what to do. But two days ago they did what they believed they had to for their piece of mind..."
He collared Heiji. "What are you talking about?"
His hands shook.
He ungracefully unhanded Heiji, pocketing his trembling hands.
He gave Heiji a dead stare.
"They authorized an autopsy. It was Ran's face yes but the body was clearly not. Ran is alive..."
It was all his mind could take for a day.
His mind shut off.
Darkness engulfed him.
Kudo!
A/N: Another chapter done my dears! Hope it was up to your expectations! Until the next chapter!