The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace
Disclaimer: There are some characters in this that I own. Not many, but they are there.
Chapter 2 – One Step Closer To The Edge
And I'm about to – break – Lincoln Park.
---
Freedom.
For different people, it can mean different things at different times. For some it means being free from restrictions and not having to worry about rules or regulations or duties. For others, it means simply being safe, secure, not having to worry about people harming you or hunting you down or hating you, where nothing else matters except that you are loved.
Everyone has their own idea of what freedom is. Sometimes it is literal –
He smiles, and the man smiles back at him. Nothing is expected of him, except to wait for orders; and from what he has heard, these kinds of orders will be the kind that involve his own passions and hobbies, making them not so much work as commissioned works of art.
Smugly he saunters down the road as they watch him with mixed feelings. All of it was completely legal – all, that is, apart from the exchange of money that had validated the entire thing in the eyes of the man in charge. None of the others had liked it, but then again they hadn't had to. Out of his cell, not only had their lives been in his hands to choose whether they lived or died, but the man that he had been with had had a certain amount of. . . leverage, also.
He had been able to tell that the man had not liked him either, but that was good.
He smiles, and fangs glint in the moonlight.
He idly wonders whether devils ever made deals with other devils.
-and sometimes it is perceived, a thing of ethereal presence that you cannot hold in your hands, as it will evaporate into moonshine and vapours.
---
The hallways still flicker by the light of the electric bulbs, giving his sensitive vision spots where the brightest lights were seconds ago.
Colours blur. So do sounds. So do memories. So do morals.
He returns to the place where they all were, as much out of breath as a panther would be on a cool day and after a long drink at the oasis. An apt metaphor.
He greets everyone normally, lying as easily as if there were silver on his dead tongue.
The blood he wears isn't his. It isn't anyone's, any more.
Ran takes him in her arms; he breathes in her scent. There is a light of suspicion in Hattori's eyes and Hakuba is wondering where the thief is. The witch's eyes narrow as she sees him like this for the first time, but she never gets the chance to say anything; he smiles. . . smiles, and it's just enough to show teeth, too much tooth, and of all of them, she is the only one who knows what it means.
Sooner or later, it will come out. But he will be ready.
And when he tries to think that what he is doing is wrong, he will remember.
Remember that moment, here and gone so fast that any mortal would not have known that it had even passed. A look of fear, which grew to terror, which made him feel at the same time horrified and full of a kind of ecstasy.
If he has gone past that point, then there is little reason to turn back. Little that he cannot do. . .
This time, he does not wake up with adrenaline and sweat and he doesn't sit up and get out of bed straight away. He does not get himself coffee, or blood, to calm himself down. Instead he simply lies there for a time, body clenched into a foetal position with knees hugging his chest, covers cocooning him being soaked through by a cold sweat that should not have been possible.
It wasn't me, he keeps trying to remind himself. I didn't do it. They're not dead. I didn't. . . I couldn't. . . Not me. . .
It doesn't work, not really.
Eventually he gets up and gets dressed, knowing that it would be an impossibility, an idiocy, to attempt sleep for a second time that night. For a moment his muscles cramp and hurt due to their tenseness during the past few hours.
He goes down the stairs slowly, not wanting to risk anything what with the state he is in.
He doesn't bother with coffee and veers away from the concealed part of his fridge with a vehemence that he hadn't felt since the first time, soon after he had had it installed.
So he goes out.
With the moon out, his eyesight is better than normal, eyes catching on stars and lamps alike.
Not thinking, trying not to think, he lets his feet lead him. They lead him to the park.
A sort of instinct takes over at the sights and smells of nature. Footfalls all but silent, he can hear everything that there is to hear; not too long ago this would have been unbearable to listen to, but now it is not, his breathing and heartbeat so quiet that they are almost nonexistent. The smells reach out to him, as changing as the attention span of a kitten and as lingering as the stench of blood at a crime scene. His attention is everywhere. It is no wonder he does not notice everything. Not at once.
And then. . . then he is back in his dream.
Lost blue eyes take in the scene with a detached and morbid fascination, all the while almost believing that the ones being watched are not real, will fade away in an instant, his steps not taking him further any faster than before, not believing it real, not necessary to run.
– stench of blood at a crime scene –
All at once the figure that could have been from a mirror for a few delusional seconds is gone, then there and now a shadow and now gone, disappeared from sight.
Like in a dream, he kneels down beside the park bench, his body going through the motions even though his mind isn't there yet, perhaps denying thought processes on purpose. Fingers seek out a pulse, signs of life, anything, half understanding even before he got to the point what it was that he would find – he has seen it and been through it so many times before, after all.
Fingers slip at the neck.
His detective's mind wakes up just enough to supply him with the curiosity to ask of himself why that had happened. Just enough to look, see –
Blue.
It must have been paint. A practical joke.
Not so uncommon any more, not since a certain phantom thief entered his life. Such things sometimes happened when neither had seen each other for days, even, and both pleaded innocent. Which was not much of a defence for those who knew the kaitou. A practical joke in bad taste, then.
. . . But since when did paint smell like blood?
A glance at the sky. Around him. Everywhere was covered in a blue nimbus that even vampiric eyesight could not dispel and turn into a technicolour landscape.
He looked back at his hand. His hand, pale as was normal now, paler than normal, with two smeared stains of blue. The same blue as was on the neck of the man – body – on the park bench.
Unlike how most people and passers-by would react, everything happened in reverse for him. He had already been numb, so the only way for his consciousness to go was up. The reflexive action for a detective's mind at this point in time was to work, to figure things out, to detect. There wasn't much to detect.
An unheard, unvoiced scream shattered the silence of the night.
---
In the hazy light of an early winter morning, Teitan High school was letting only dim light through its windows, resulting in an almost fog-like feeling. Despite this, most of both the student and teacher populations were active, if not excited, each one going up to the nearest confused or unknowing-looking face and informing them of the situation with a seriousness that usually wasn't associated with gossip. If anything, the muted light added to the grim atmosphere, waking people up instead of keeping them half-asleep.
As Suzuki Sonoko strode through the halls as though on a mission – actually, make that on a mission, she might as well be – people shied away from her slightly. The talkative girl was well known for her love of rumours and famous characters, but this was a different thing entirely. This involved her best friend.
The best friend who was heading over this way right now, just like she'd been told by Aniko-san in class 4-b. Sonoko frowned. Ran shouldn't be here – honestly, it was as though the girl had no contacts whatsoever. She couldn't have been walking around this morning with both her eyes and her ears closed, could she? She snorted. More likely just too used to it, even after all this time.
One of the boys in their class, some guy she couldn't remember the name of, walked up to Ran, seemingly to offer condolences. Sonoko went up to them and shoved the guy out of the way with a light push before he could say anything.
"Oi. Beat it."
The boy – soccer club, maybe? That'd explain how they seemed to know each other – gave Ran a sympathetic look and nodded at her before going into class. Ignoring the teacher's stern look as she went in, Sonoko dragged her friend halfway down the hall so that it would be less likely that someone from class could overhear before starting to talk herself.
"Ran-chan, what is with you? I know your boyfriend's been a real doofus recently, but that's no excuse! How can you not have heard and still be here, you idiot!"
Ran didn't answer. She simply sighed and looked away.
"Oh, no. It's a fever. Isn't it? Please tell me it isn't a fever. . ."
Another sigh.
"It's not a fever, Sonoko. I just. . . wish things were better between Shinichi and me. That's all."
At this, her mood darkened slightly, and it must have shown on her face because suddenly, Ran was just that little bit more attentive.
"Yeah. Speaking of that brainiac detective boyfriend of yours. There's something you should know."
"What? And stop calling him that! He's not my boyfriend!"
Sonoko merely snorted.
"Psh. Yeah, right. Whatever. You've been miserable these last couple of weeks, just because you two were fighting. Nothing – absolutely nothing! – that I could do made you feel any better. And what I'm about to say is only gonna make it worse."
This got Ran's attention like nothing else ever had. If it hadn't been such a serious matter, she would've considered using such tactics to get the other girl's attention more often. As it was, the thought didn't even cross her mind.
"What? What is it? Is Shinichi in trouble-?"
"Yeah," Sonoko said in a deceptively airy tone, focusing on a flickering light halfway down the hall that really needed to be fixed. "You could say that. He's over at the police station, last I heard. Press isn't allowed anywhere near."
"...Huh? But Shinichi's at the police station practically all the time. All those crimes he solves; he has to give statements and stuff. I've done it almost as many times as he has."
Sonoko shook her head.
"Not like that. What I heard was, they've got him in for questioning. No one knows what for, though. Like I said, press clamp-down. I didn't believe them then and I don't now – that mystery freak wouldn't ever hurt anyone or do anything criminal to save his life – but . . . Ran-chan, ne, what's wrong?"
The look on Ran's face was almost scary. There was a kind of paleness there, along with a scared, this isn't happening look that made Sonoko want to start looking for the dead body. That was when she usually saw that kind of face; when someone'd just been killed. Or when they'd found someone dead. Didn't matter which.
"Ne, Ran-chan? You are all right, right? We know it isn't him. I just didn't want some thoughtless punk to go barging in with their big mouth, that's all."
It was then that Ran looked at her. Really looked at her, in the eye. Through her, almost, her hands on Sonoko's shoulders.
"I need to get to him. I need to – this is bad. He needs me, Sonoko. You understand that, right?"
She nodded.
"Got you. I'll tell the teacher."
And with that, Ran dashed off into the sunrise, leaving Sonoko striding purposefully back to class with a mission: Tell sensei why Mouri Ran isn't coming to school today.
She nodded to herself. It sounded like a good mission to her.
---
By the time Ran had reached the police station, her head had been filled with enough worst-case scenarios to drive her half crazy. She, best friend of a meitantei who just kept on falling over murders and mysteries did, after all, have quite a lot to go on. Not to mention the fact that even if Shinichi was stronger now, if the Black Organisation did turn up then things would probably go straight to hell in a handbasket, what with him being the way he was just recently.
Bad. Things would be very bad. She didn't know exactly what had happened to him back in that warehouse rescuing Aoko-chan, and a part of her didn't want to know, but whatever it was had definitely freaked him somehow.
Because of, or perhaps in spite of the fact that her mystery loving geek was currently a ticking time bomb, Ran had only one thought in her head, and that was to get to Shinichi. It didn't really matter that the people around him were probably in danger when the thought crossed her mind, and neither did the idea that she might be putting herself in danger worry her.
Shinichi. . . you idiot. . .
As the police station came into view, she ploughed through the congregation of reporters, cameramen, gawkers and tourists, sometimes forgetting to say 'excuse me' and sometimes not needing to, what with no few of them having recognised her.
She ran blindly into the building, not having even the faintest of clues as to where he might be and more than ready to just start searching from there when a hand fell on her shoulder, stopping her in her path.
She started, half turning around only to see the sympathetic faces of police detectives Takagi and Sato.
"Ran-san! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"
Ran shook her head, determined not to let them see just how worried she was. Instead, she let out one word. "Shinichi. . ."
Sato sighed.
"Ran-chan, do you know what's going on?" Her eyes widened, and she shook her head again, mute this time. "Well, neither do we, to tell the truth. We found Kudo-kun a few hours ago. He. . . I've heard it didn't look too good."
"But Shinichi wouldn't ever do anything bad!" Ran cried out, not caring that she was in a police station and saying those words. "He wouldn't! We've gone through this before – last month, remember? Shinichi was accused of something he didn't do – it was someone else, wearing his face – it can't have been him. Don't you see?"
Takagi's hand went up to his forehead in a frustrated gesture.
"But, that is. . . it's not like that this time. It was. . . definitely him."
Ran noticed the falter, and knew what caused it. It was the same kind of falter that anyone who had known Shinichi well before the transformation, whether they knew it or not, had when confronted with irrevocable proof that he wasn't as he appeared. It usually wasn't enough for them to say that he was a vampire directly, but it was enough that someone would be able to tell if it was him or not simply by looking. The pale skin and graceful movements usually gave him away. Even Kaito-kun simply couldn't copy him unless he wanted to be copied.
This, however, did not deter her. If anything, it only made her will stronger.
"I need to see him. Talk to him. He'd sooner save a serial killer than do anything like that himself!"
Takagi and Sato shared a grim look. She faltered.
"What. . .? What is it?"
"Ran-chan. . . Kudo-kun isn't speaking. Not to anyone. Not even about anything not to do with the case. He's just sitting there. I don't think he's even moved that much since he came."
Takagi shook his head sadly.
"No, he has moved once or twice. Usually to get away from people, though. It's not good. Even if – especially if – he is innocent, that kind of behaviour makes it seem like he isn't."
"But he is innocent-!"
She was cut off by a new, familiar voice that she had not expected to be anywhere near.
"Then we'll just have to prove it then – right, Hakuba?"
She whipped around for a second time, hardly believing her eyes when they showed her the face of Kuroba Kaito, and sure enough, pushing his way through the crowds, was an easily distinguishable blond.
"Eh? Hakuba?"
Kaito turned back to the way he'd come in, only to sweatdrop slightly at the way his lead had caused the British detective to almost get swallowed up by the crowd. The magician held up a finger.
"Wait just one moment," he said, and went back into the massed molasses, extracted Hakuba, and came back to where he had been standing, not out of breath in the slightest – a stark contrast to Hakuba Saguru himself, who looked a very serious yet somehow comic amalgamation of frustration, worry, annoyance, consternation and not a little frightened anxiety.
"Now, what was I saying?"
Hakuba, in the midst of smoothing his metaphorical feathers, took the time to glare lightly at his friend-slash-rival.
"I'm not sure what you could have been saying to them, but the last thing I heard you say is not, I am sure, fit for the present company."
Kaito smiled, and pleasantly asked Hakuba to shut up. Then, he turned to the two police officers, a deceptively serious look on his face for the prankster that anyone who knew him was familiar with.
"Where is he?" came the question. Unlike when Ran had said it, there was no desperation, and the tone was completely rational. In fact, it almost didn't sound like a question at all, if one ignored the fact that he did not know the answer. The two police shared another, more uncertain look, before allowing the three teenagers to follow them. Hakuba was a well-known detective, after all, whose reputation was similar if not as good as Kudo Shinichi's. Kuroba Kaito. . . had been noticed during the time in which they had all stood fort in the Hakuba mansion while 'Kid' had gone to rescue Nakamori Aoko. Besides, after allowing through accident and design a number of grade-schoolers onto crime scenes, this wasn't much different. For one thing, they were older.
It was only by chance that Ran found that Kaito was nervous, when she caught him lightly gripping his left arm.
---
They walked down the corridors, and Kaito expressly forbid himself to react. Either to the fact that he was Kaitou Kid in a police station, of his own will and without any sort of disguise, or the fact that he was Kuroba Kaito, about to have a private chat with a friend. Who happened to be in the next interrogation room along. Who happened to be a detective, and a, well, vampire.
His left arm itched.
He saw the door to the bare room – one occupant, not entirely deceased – and the open door not so far away on the same side of the hall. From what he knew of police procedures, which was admittedly quite a lot, the room next door was the others side of a two-way mirror, with recording equipment to capture anything from a clue to a confession. Growing up with the Nakamoris definitely had its benefits, he mused to himself while convincing everyone – Hakuba and Ran included – to let him talk with Shinichi. Alone, with no one watching.
It probably went against at least one or two rules and bent several others, but he was pretty sure that he would agree to a date with Koizumi long before Kudo started to talk, let alone got his backside out of that room, unless he went in there on his own.
Hakuba gave him one of his patented suspicious 'just what kind of trick is it that you're about to play?' looks. He threw a grin over in the detective's direction, and went on in.
The door closed behind him, and he fought hard not to flinch even slightly. The noise reverberated around the room for a moment before leaving them in silence.
And it was. What with the fact that no one was watching them meaning that he was just relaxed enough to not have to watch his steps to make them normal and noisy, and the fact that his near twin looked like he was only half conscious sitting up, there were hardly any sounds to hear.
He leaned against the wall opposite, careful not to make any sudden movements.
"Oi, Kudo." Nothing. "Tantei-kun – wake up." Still nothing. How could he not even twitch at the sound of Kid's voice? Okay. . . maybe it's time for another tactic. "Ran's out there," he said plainly.
A twitch.
"She said she'd heard from Sonoko," he continued, as if it were a normal conversation. He usually tried to stay away from the ditzy blonde, as her obsession with his alter ego was more than a little unnerving when she already had a boyfriend. But when he found that out, he could have kissed the girl. On the cheek.
Another twitch. Obviously, he was getting somewhere.
"Takagi-keiji and Sato-keiji are both worried about you, you know. Megure-keibu's beside himself."
Movement at last. Kudo's head had turned away from him. Not the kind of improvement he had been after, but after the last few minutes, his expectations hadn't even been this high. Well, it's something, at least. At least it's something.
Kaito detached himself from the wall, gracefully sliding into the seat across from Kudo, unobtrusively and, in fact, as comfortingly as was possible.
"We know you didn't do it."
This time the vampire didn't move, but with a rattle of a gasp started to breath normally again in a way that sounded, at least to Kaito, just a little painful. Slowly, slower than before, his near twin turned back to face him, blue eyes boring into blue-violet.
Kaito didn't need telepathy to see what was going on in the other's head at that moment. Pain was the greatest contributor, being of a kind that mirrored something that he had seen in the mirror only a short few months ago, a kind that still brought him to his knees with frustration, shame and a feeling of helplessness. For Shinichi, who was that much stronger than he was, the feeling was likely much, much worse...
Kaito broke eye contact. There was something in Kudo's eyes, a sort of intensity that he couldn't claim to as simply a human thief. A sort of . . . hatred? . . . no, surely not. It was more like Shinichi was disgusted with himself. Which was almost certainly something connected to the case. Kaito had felt a feeling of instinctual possession, of a not-human sort of strain.
His left arm itched, but instead of scratching it, he held it out in front of him. Shinichi, being his usual self a slight bit more, stared at him incredulously. It was the sort of look that was usually reserved for a quick and silent 'Are you really that stupid?' just before he did something that, to any normal person, really was that stupid.
He snorted.
"Look," he said, breaking the silence. "I know almost all of your side of story for last night – not that I could tell the police that," he added with another snort. Like they'd believe what he had to say. Yeah, right. "You forget, you weren't the only night owl when you stayed over at my place. The number of times I saw you get up in the middle of the night, or hardly sleep at all..." Kaito repressed a sigh of amusement. It wasn't like Tantei-kun to miss anything. "I'm guessing that sometime last night, you woke up, making a beeline for the fridge. Then, you went out." He stopped there, because Kudo's eyes had gone blank again the moment he had mentioned the action. All right, more clues. We should be able to work with this later. . . "So, I deduct, oh Holmes fanatic, that you aren't exactly going to eat me alive." Okay, bad joke. "Or dead," he corrected himself. Shinichi was still staring.
Kaito blinked. "What?"
He followed the blue eyes down to his arm, and noticed that it must have been the first time since the incident that Shinichi had seen his scar. It was coming into wintertime after all, so he usually didn't have reason to have his arms showing. And besides; anyone else would have asked questions.
"Huh. That. It's nothing," he said. And it was true. He'd received worse when being chased around by Hakuba and the rest of the Task Force in the early days of his career as the Kaitou Kid. Compared to most of that, a scratch – be it from a vampire or not – was nothing. "I've had worse. Go on – you look like you're not gonna be able to stand up even before you do. Just be careful, right?"
He hardly even noticed it. Somehow, he had come to expect that if he ever had to do what he currently was doing, it would hurt a lot more than it was. Seeing the guy nearly drain someone that first time was possibly one of the reasons why. But now, it was like the nurses said when they were about to poke you with great big giant needles. Kaito himself didn't fear needles nearly as much as he feared, say, fish, but even compared to needles it wasn't much. There wasn't anything still in there, feeling as if it was wiggling around the insides of your veins, arteries and muscles just because of how long it was, since the fangs weren't actually that long. He'd seen them before. He should know.
And all of a sudden, it was over, and he didn't even feel all that light-headed. Absently and with more than a little curiosity, he glanced down at his arm, only to find that the two pinprick wounds were already healing. His eyebrows raised, he muttered "Cool."
"Are you . . . an idiot?"
The words came out rough and vaguely ragged as though the user hadn't talked in a long while, but Kudo was speaking again.
Kaito grinned and nodded.
"Yep. That's me."
Shinichi stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head.
A few minutes passed by in which neither spoke. Kaito prodded and poked the two fading pinpricks on his forearm. Shinichi looked away, but then back again. Kaito looked up.
"Hey," he said softly. "You ready now?"
Kudo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He nodded.
"I . . . yes. I think so. Maybe."
"Need anything? Anything at all?" Kaito thought. What else might a vampire need... "Water?"
Shinichi opened is mouth like he wanted to say something, but then let it close again, reconsidering. He nodded, averting his eyes. Kaito merely grinned and tapped his ear. Shinichi's eyes widened, apparently seeing the device attached there for the first time
"Oi, Hakuba."
There was a short pause during which Shinichi's eyebrows raised as Hakuba answered, asking what he wanted. Kaito was sure that Tantei-kun over there could clearly hear the muted voices in the background, if the wide-eyed and pale yet somehow also amused look he was currently sporting was anything to go by.
"We'll be needing," he said to the blond detective in the other room, "some water. Oh, and the recording equipment back. Ah, that's right, isn't it, Kudo?"
The look the detective on his end shot him had all the imagery that 'duh' simply could not contain as simply a word.
"What? Kuroba, what's going on in there? Is Kudo-kun talking with you?"
Kaito blinked.
"Well, yeah. I think that's what I said."
"I. . . right. Of course. Water..."
"Yeah."
"...and the recording equipment back."
"Yep."
There was a short pause, though Kaito could hear the odd word every so often.
"I'll bring them through."
"Thanks. I mean it."
From the look on Shinichi's face, he meant it, too. After all, Ran would worry even if he did want to see her so soon after what had happened. Officers Takagi and Sato didn't even know what he was, even though they were the two police who knew him the most – whether they knew that or not was another matter entirely.
And so after some deliberation they decided on which types of things would be all right to leave in, and which had to go. After that, the tape recorder was turned on, and the story began. Kudo left out not even the smallest detail that could be told, not skipping out on anything that could be told in full. Some events though were blurred from shock, a side effect that the detective had previously thought that he would never suffer from.
Kaito kept his Poker Face firmly in place. It wouldn't do to have the guy think he thought Shinichi was the monster here, even if happened to be accidental.
---
Some time later, the two boys could be seen coming out of the room, and for once Kaito's hair was lying flat against his head. That might have had something to do with the fact that it was sopping wet and the scowl on Shinichi's face might have had something to do with it.
None of these things appeared to have deterred the magician however, by the seems of things, but as Saguru knew, what was on the surface wasn't always the same as what was going on underneath.
The Kid was always laughing.
Aside from that...
"You're dripping on the floor, Kuroba. And you are just as bad as he is sometimes, Kudo-kun."
Kudo glanced at him sharply, but only looked away with a noncommittal shrug, reminding him of earlier, when he had delivered the things asked for only to see the detective of the East looking like a person half alive, vampire status notwithstanding. It had given him shivers, having known Kudo-kun – albeit vaguely, and as Edogawa Conan instead of as Kudo Shinichi – before, as someone who was usually a happy and easily amused if serious person, which was only to be expected in the profession of detective.
He could simply be glad that Ran-san hadn't seen her childhood friend like that. She was strong, but...
He was distracted when officers Takagi and Sato came out of the adjoining room, probably having heard the door shut when the two in front of him had exited. He himself had waited outside after bringing the equipment and water in. Ran was with them, and predictably let out an overjoyed cry at seeing Shinichi up, about and if not smiling then at least attempting to antagonise Kuroba. An activity that, while not enjoyable in the sense that it was guaranteed to make a person smile, it was definitely a relatively safe stress relief option.
Once Kudo had managed to become detached to a certain extent, he held out the all-important little see-through plastic case which protected his spoken evidence. Officer Sato took it slightly nervously, as though she couldn't really and truly believe that such a famous person on the side of the law needed to give evidence for such a thing. She almost looked as though it would bite.
Ironic, really.
Once done, Kudo went back to how he'd been before, standing mostly frigidly to one side of the hall, with his back to the wall and with his eyes always watching. Watching everything, everyone. It wasn't the same kind of expectant anticipation that he associated with Kid heists, even now – trying to figure out which out of the several dozen uniformed police Kuroba had decided to dress up as and be tonight was more of a game, a challenge of wits. It wasn't even the same as the blessed few times Kudo had frozen up at the faint suspicion that the Black Organisation was in the general vicinity. There was always a sort of gleam in his eye, daring them to do their worst, knowing that even if there were a dozen men trying to take him down and his people out, he believed that would always come out on top.
This was different. Kudo was more aware, more alert than Saguru had ever seen him. When the British detective turned to his long-time rival, he saw the same expression expertly hidden in the thief's body language and the way he moved his eyes.
It wasn't just that, either. Kudo looked tired. Exhausted, somehow. Not that Saguru was able to tell the difference between a vampire's physical states, but he was certain that it could not be healthy. Nor was the confusion or the ready willingness to deny whatever was on that tape had ever happened if only he could find proof, or . . .
All in all, even though he had not the same insight that Kuroba had gone into the interrogation room with or the knowledge of his character that Ran and the others did, he could tell an innocent man when he saw one.
Innocent, but as safe as a ticking time bomb, he admitted to himself seconds later, when Kudo opened his mouth to speak and the words came out haltingly instead of confidently.
"I. . . it should all be on there. I..." A fist clenched in silent anger, but his voice remained the same. "I couldn't remember it all. If there is. . . anything I can do. At all. The . . . the place where it. . . I..." He trailed off.
"He needs to get out of here," Kaito said flatly.
Everyone there turned to look at the magician, except Kudo himself – who had turned his face away. Takagi spluttered slightly and Sato frowned.
"But – Kuroba-san! I, I understand that but even if Kudo-kun isn't a suspect any more, he's still a witness! There is paperwork, and..."
"All things which can be done at a later date, when Kudo-kun is of a clearer mind," Saguru interjected. "Making no assumptions about guilt either way, he is not about to be going out of this building alone. I am certain that it will be possible to have at least one person who he knows with him at all possible times, if that is what is necessary."
One of the first things you ever learn when dealing with animals or birds of any kind, he reflected, is that you don't put the dangerous predator with claws in a small space. You would usually end up with an awful lot of scratched walls. I somehow doubt that the situation is any different here.
It took a few minutes – including a brief conversation with Megure-keibu – before they could leave. And when they did, he somehow wasn't surprised that Kuroba had slipped Kudo-kun a wide-brimmed hat on the way out, and that the vampire's hands were pressed firmly in his pockets.
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AN: If you've looked at my profile or Deviantart account recently, you'll notice I've got pictures of a couple of the original characters who crop up next chapter. They're pretty important, and have been in the story before. It's also their first time in Second Grace next chapter.
Hopefully, the next update shouldn't take as long.