AN: And without further ado, here's chapter three of the fanfic I've come to dub "why am I doing this to my son and child and why am I enjoying doing it so much".
Thanks for reading!
Phantasmal Black
Chapter Three
Paikaru
"Kudo-kun, are you sure about this?"
"How many times have you asked me that in this day alone, Haibara?" Turning to look at her, he gave her a quick, reassuring smile. "I'm sure about this. Now can you please look at this thing for me?"
Heaving a small sigh, only sparing a brief glance towards the befuddled professor who had been roped into driving them without, apparently, much information about what was going on, Ai turned her attention towards the object in question. Carefully holding the still sleeping young man's wrist in her own, her eyes narrowed as she studied what was designed to appear to be a simple fashion accessory to the casual viewer. As her gaze traced the Lichtenberg scars that traveled up his arm, shoving up the sleeve of his hoodie to see how far they went, she cast Shinichi something of a somber look.
"Well, here's your proof that Hattori-kun didn't go without a fight, if you were looking for it. It's an electrical restraint bracelet. The only good news is that it doesn't have any kind of tracking feature. It's designed to send out electrical-" Watching the way his gaze shifted, Ai frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it, Kudo-kun? Something's clearly on your mind."
"Yeah." Closing his eyes, Shinichi leaned his head against the backseat of the car. "He didn't remember me at all. Not even one tiny hint of recognition, Haibara."
Putting a hand to her chin, Ai considered this information for a moment. "Amnesia? He obviously can't be a fake, even the scars are correct."
"It appears that would be the case." Glancing down at the slumbering young man that was spread out between the pair in the back seat of the car, his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his face. He'd tried to distance himself somewhat from the memory of his old friend in preparation for confronting him- it helped with the sense of hurt, and had quickly proven to be an effective method in doing so. If he continued to think of him as Paikaru, rather than Hattori Heiji, it might make confronting him easier to do. Depending on what kind of answers her gave him, his attitude towards his friend would change- he wanted to hope for the best, naturally, but he'd decided to brace himself for the worst.
But by treating them as two separate entities, it seemed like he was closer to the mark than he could have suspected.
He had, of course, considered the chance that Heiji might have lost his memory. But considering all of the things he'd already survived in the past without such a thing happening, it hadn't been on the top of his list of possibilities. He'd already fallen into the sea once, and likewise had also been shot before. He had an incredible knack for making it out alive from otherwise potentially fatal situations without even so much as a traumatic memory. Much higher were the odds that the Organization had threatened him with Kazuha, had told him that if he didn't work together with them, they would see to it that not only would she die, but she'd suffer horribly first.
That was exactly the kind of thing they'd do, after all.
"The only thing that remains is to actually talk to him." Shinichi said with a slight frown, reaching into his bag and pulling out a number of handcuffs he'd secured. He hadn't wanted to use these, but if Heiji really didn't remember them... a grim expression crossed his face. The assassin had let them capture him, but without any memories, Shinichi couldn't help but wonder why.
In part he was almost glad that Ai was with him. He could already tell that it looked like the Professor wanted to but in and say something- he'd only told the man that they were going to capture an Organization member, so his shock at seeing the face of a supposedly dead man was understandable. Without a doubt he probably wanted to say something along the lines that he should have more faith in Heiji, they were good friends, after all. But the world wasn't that idealistic- at the very least, not the world he lived in. How many times had it been someone that a murder victim trusted that killed them? He'd watched the expression on people's faces as their trust in their loved ones vanished before their eyes. In all of his years dealing with the Black Organization, it had left him more than a little paranoid, wired for looking into faces for any possible signs of betrayal.
It was part of the other reason why he didn't truly believe the theory that Heiji had been a part of the Black Organization before. Even back then, especially back then as Conan, he'd been doing it, assessing the people in his life, both those he already knew and those he had just met. Could he trust them? Could he really believe in them? Were they really true in their words as they extended an allied hand out towards him? There had certainly been no shortage of those he came to view as allies that he had been incredibly suspicious of before.
It had gotten to him more than he had realized, and it was a hard thing to shake, even after all this time. He knew Ai, at least, understood that- she was the same way, perhaps even more so.
"If he really doesn't have any memories, it might be a good idea to use those, Kudo-kun." Ai said, glancing up at him, watching as the hesitation played out over his face. "What do you think Hattori-kun would do in your situation?"
Shinichi shook his head, unable to help but snort. "Hattori was too trusting for his own good. No," closing his eyes, he let out a slightly bitter laugh. "Or maybe I've become too paranoid for my own good. I want to trust him, Haibara, but I... I can't do it."
"Well, it's understandable." Ai said simply, turning over Paikaru's left hand again. "I think I might be able to get this off him, with the right tools. But not until we get back to your place, and I can get some first aid supplies. Really, he should have it treated at a hospital, but I suppose that's not really an option."
"Is it really that bad?" Shinichi asked, eyes tracing the lightning-like scars that crackled up his left arm.
"Well." Ai's frown was tight. "You'll soon be able to see that much for yourself."
"Ah." Shinichi said simply, his brain momentarily not knowing how else to react to the blackened flesh that was revealed as Ai finally was able to remove the electrical restraint bracelet from Paikaru's wrist. It was only experience from dealing with countless crime scenes that caused him to bite back his gag reflex. When Ai remarked that it was nothing short of a small miracle that his left hand even still worked, no uncertain amount of anger broiled within him, and he found himself clenching his fists at the thought that someone could subject Heiji to something like this.
Even a Hattori Heiji that had no idea he was Hattori Heiji, he thought, watching as Ai cleaned and disinfected the wrist as best that she could, before wrapping it in gauze and bandages. They'd already handcuffed his right hand to the chair they'd placed his sleeping form in, but it was only once the left wrist was properly treated and wrapped that they dared handcuffing the left hand to the chair- before handcuffing both hands together as well.
"This is surely one of Merlot's devices." Ai remarked, holding the silver bracelet in her hands. Getting it off had been no easy task- it was designed that way in the first place. "I've seen it on their pupils before, as much as I've never actually met them myself. You probably have as well, Kudo-kun. We pulled in no small number of Black Organization assassins with them on. They only attached them to their indispensable pride and joys, to make sure they stayed that way."
"I remember." Shinichi nodded his head, recalling back. As his gaze once more drifted towards the dark skinned young man before him, his eyes narrowed, mentally bringing up all the information they'd managed to gather on the one with the codename of Paikaru over the years. Most of the information had been gathered by Hakuba, which had then been passed on to him.
They'd first entered their notice around two or three months after that fateful day on the boat. Now that he thought back on it, that really should have struck him as somewhat odd. On the other hand, they had only just recently heard the codename of Merlot in the first place before all of that happened. Vermouth, who was already in their custody by then, could tell him no more than that they were a recent pupil of an assassin by the codename of Merlot, who she described a talented assassin on the Organization's payroll- and many others. Thinking back on it, he wondered if she'd known- she had to have had. Eyes narrowing slightly, he vowed that the first chance he got, he would storm over there himself and get some real answers from that woman.
They hadn't even so much as known what gender Paikaru was until just recently, when Hakuba spoke to that girl they had missed. They still had very little idea about anything in regards to Merlot- their gender, race, physical appearance- everything about them was like smoke. What little they had gathered about them were the corpses that they had left behind in their wake.
The fact that Paikaru wasn't just an assassin in name only was unquestionable- they'd definitely killed people, there was more than enough proof of that, even if they'd never managed to catch their face. That was what had been eating away at Shinichi the entire time- the strong dissonance between the friendly, outgoing Osakan that he knew, and someone who was capable of taking human life so easily, over and over again. In a way, it was almost a relief to him to know that the one who was before him had no memories of his previous life, so to speak- if anything, it greatly lessened the burnt of betrayal.
He hadn't actually thought out what he would do after meeting with Paikaru- with Heiji. If Heiji really were forced into the remnants of the Black Organization against his will, backed into a corner that even he couldn't escape from, then of course he'd do something for him. He'd do anything he could for his friend, if that was the case. But the fact that he had no memories complicated things. He doubted that he was pretending- something would have shown up in his eyes, nobody was that good of an actor.
What kind of person, then, was Paikaru? What had he been told? What kind of things had he experienced? What kinds of things shaped him? How much of him was Hattori Heiji, and how much of him was someone Shinichi had never met before? What did he remember, if anything at all?
Why had he allowed Shinichi to capture him in the first place?
That was the biggest mystery of them all. They'd checked him all over for transmitters, and had found nothing. Digging through his duffel bag had revealed a number of knives and handguns, as well as more ordinary things like clothes and money, but no transmitters. They were pretty certain they'd removed every hidden weapon that the assassin had on him- a sizable number, it turned out. It didn't quite make sense for this to be a trap- which meant it was entirely possible that just like he had decided to speak to Paikaru, Paikaru had decided that he needed to speak with him during the short period when he'd taken notice of him.
Perhaps there was something of Hattori that lingered within him after all. He found it hard to believe that that hotblooded idiot detective could be completely erased, even if he lost his memories and had been fed nothing but lies about who he was, and what kind of person he was.
The object that Shinichi was holding in his hand was proof enough of that. Looking back down at the frayed and worn omamori wrapped in purple cloth, that had been hanging from Paikaru's neck on a string, he closed his hand around it, for a moment almost hearing the voice of his old friend bickering with Kazuha about it. At the very least, something had motivated him to keep it with him this entire time. It might not be much- he might have just held onto it as his only window into a past he couldn't remember, but it was still something.
"I'd appreciate it if you could give that back. There's nothing in it a detective would be interested in anyways."
Peeking one eye open, Paikaru cast it towards the omamori held within Shinichi's hand, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. Giving a testing tug of his hands, he quickly came to understand that he was handcuffed quite thoroughly- though this fact didn't really seem to bother him that much. Instead a rather placid smile came across his face, as he folded on leg across his knee, tilting his head slightly as he looked up towards Shinichi.
Shinichi couldn't help but think how unlike Heiji his body language was.
"Is this the part where we exchange pleasantries? I take it neither of us needs to exchange names, Kudo-san."
Shinichi wasn't sure what made him twitch more- the distinct lack of his friend's Osakan accent, or the unfamiliar way he addressed him. It was fair, he supposed. As well as Hattori Heiji had known him, this was Paikaru's first meeting with the famed detective of the east.
"Do you have a name other than Paikaru?" Was the first thing Shinichi found himself asking. He might as well start fishing for information right away from this stranger who wore his friend's face.
"I have some aliases, none of which I'm particularly attached to." Came the simple answer, as he shrugged his shoulders. "But Paikaru was the only real name I was ever given."
"Then Paikaru's fine." Shinichi said with a slight sigh. This was more difficult than he had anticipated. Even with the unfamiliar almost business-like smile on Paikaru's face, he couldn't help but see phantoms of Hattori everywhere in it- no small wonder. It was his face, after all. "Why did you let us capture you?"
"Exposed right off the bat, huh." The slightly more familiar smile that flashed across Paikaru's face caused Shinichi's heart to clench, and he could only hope that it didn't show up on his expression. "I've heard about you, Kudo Shinichi. They say you're the one who caused the Organization to crumble in that way it did. That old man Gin especially hates you. Anyways, would you believe it if I told you it was just because I was curious about you?" He asked, calculating eyes gauging his reaction. "Especially when you turned up in the hotel lobby wearing such a terrible disguise, with a middle school student in tow with you of all things."
As his gaze flickered over towards Ai, she flinched inwardly in spite of herself. She could still feel that presence slithering around him, like a coiled snake, something which only became stronger as he turned to look at her. Watching as he seemed to sense this, she narrowed her eyes as the assassin flashed her a placid smile, the air around him at once become much lighter in the most artificial of manners, before he turned his full attention back towards Shinichi.
"It's almost like ya weren't after me to arrest me, detective." Paikaru finished, slightly slipping back into his Osaka-ben for a brief moment. "Given how much you hate us, I thought it was rather strange."
"I have my reasons." Shinichi told him, trying to not let the way his gut twisted when the word 'us' passed through those lips. "But you're correct. I wanted to speak with you personally."
"I'm flattered, detective." Paikaru's wry grin, too much like the one from his memories, made Shinichi's grip on the omamori in his hand all the tighter. As he watched the slight way that his eyebrows knitted together upon catching that, Shinichi opened his hand back up, dangling the charm in front of him.
"You want this back?" Shinichi asked. "It's just an old charm. I'm not sure why an assassin has something like this in the first place."
A bolt of anger crossed through Paikaru's face then- subtle, but something that Shinichi nevertheless picked up on. When he spoke again, his Osakan accent became as clear as day, briefly jolting Shinichi back to a different time and place. "That's none of yer business, Kudo-han. It's got nothin' ta do with ya or them, so just hand it back over already."
Exchanging a brief glance with Ai, Shinichi once again closed his fist around the charm. "Why don't you just take it back from me, Paikaru? You've been free of those handcuffs for at least the past five minutes or so, after all."
In spite of himself, the assassin laughed, and the grin that flashed across his face was something that was becoming increasingly easy for Shinichi to handle seeing. "When did ya notice?" He asked, lifting up his hands, showing off the now useless handcuffs each hanging off of one wrist. "I thought fer sure ya'd be more on guard when ya noticed. That's pretty strange too, Kudo-han."
"Your accent is showing." Shinichi merely noted, though he nevertheless handed the omamori back to him. He watched carefully as Paikaru's expression seemed to almost soften upon it's return to him, and he wasted no time in hanging it back around his neck, idly fiddling with it with one hand before tucking it back underneath his shirt. "Osaka-ben?"
Paikaru blinked at his words, an expression crossing his face as if he hadn't even noticed his slip-up. Knitting his brows together in consideration, as if wondering why such a thing had happened, he eventually gave him another wry grin. "That's right." Nodding his head, he leaned back in the chair, for all the world looking comfortable where he was, handcuffs still dangling uselessly off his wrists. He couldn't help but notice that there was a pair of them on his left wrist- he'd chosen to undo the lock on the one that connected both hands on his right wrist. "I should thank ya fer gettin' that device off my wrist though, detective. Or should I thank the little Neechan over there?"
At the way the pair sucked in their breath at the casual use of his nickname, Paikaru tilted his head a little, a slight frown gracing his features. "What's wrong? Is it really that weird that I'd thank ya fer somethin' like that? Have either of ya seen this arm?" He asked, holding up the aforementioned left arm.
Exchanging a silent look between them, it was Ai who finally spoke up, clearing her throat before she began to speak. "How long ago was it that you lost your memories?"
The bolt of shock was clear as day as it ran through him, his blue eyes going wide. All but jolting to his feet, something which startled Shinichi and Ai alike, he glanced between the two of them, a strange look crossing his face. "How do ya-?"
"Five years ago, wasn't it?" Shinichi asked. Once you caught him off guard, it appeared that Paikaru was just as prone to high emotion as Heiji had been. Briefly it occurred to him that he reason they'd manage to throw the Black Organization member so off guard in the first place, to the point where he'd unthinkingly slipped into his native accent, was perhaps because he subconsciously felt relaxed around them to a degree.
Still, as the shock settled, they watched as Paikaru almost seemed to tense up, narrowing his eyes at the pair. "How do the two of you know something like that?" He asked, once more masking the accent he had been using so freely just seconds ago, switching back to a standard Tokyo dialect. "Did I try to kill one you before?"
"I guess that's what you would think." Shinichi heaved a slight sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "Should we tell him?"
"Tell me what?" Paikaru asked, quirking a brow. Who exactly were these people? There was something about the way they interacted with him that had bothered him from the start- especially that Kudo Shinichi guy. It almost felt as if he weren't even looking at him, but at someone else, and it was a feeling that almost made his skin crawl. Who exactly did that guy see when he was looking at him?
"Your name." Shinichi said simply, locking eyes with him. "The one your parents gave you."
"My parents didn't give me something like that in the first place." Paikaru said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "I was thrown out by them after I was born. That's how I ended up in Merlot's care in the first place. Same sob story as everyone else."
"Is that what you were told?" Shinichi asked, a small hint of a smile dancing on his features. "Come now, Paikaru, I'm pretty sure you're smarter than that."
Something about the way that guy spoke to him sent a surge of annoyance through him. Narrowing his eyes, Paikaru took a step closer towards him, using the sizable height difference between them to his advantage. "If you know something about my memories, Kudo-san, I'd appreciate it if you spat it out already instead of playing this cat and mouse game with me. What is it that you want anyways? Information about the Organization? For getting that damn thing off my wrist, I'd give you that and more. If you're just messing around with me, I'd really advise you to stop. You might have taken away all my weapons, but don't make the mistake of thinking I can't kill you with my bare hands."
"Calm down." Shinichi said simply, holding up his hands, more thrown off by getting a literal death threat from him than he cared to let on. "I don't mean to upset you. Why don't you start telling me what you've managed to realize on your own, and then I'll tell you what I know."
Studying him carefully for any signs of a trick, Paikaru eventually let out a disgruntled sound, stepping back and flopping back on the chair again, the useless handcuffs on his wrists clattering against the metal. "I don't understand your game, Kudo-san, but very well."
"You're right, though." The anger that broiled within Paikaru was not the white hot, all encompassing kind that Heiji possessed- but rather a cold anger, perhaps all the more deadly for it. It was a marked difference between the two that Shinichi wasn't able to overlook. "I'm not an idiot, of course I noticed that something was strange about the story Merlot fed me. Well, by that time, it was already too late."
"She claimed that I'd lost my memories after getting injured on a failed mission. Since I was recovering from being shot at the time, I really didn't question it. She told me that I had been abandoned by my parents, and that she'd taken me in herself to raise and train as her pupil." Paikaru told him, his tone rather matter of fact, folding his arms in front of him. Mentally, Shinichi filed away the fact that Merlot was apparently a woman. "You've probably never lost your memories, so you probably wouldn't understand it, Kudo-san. When you've got that huge gap within your mind, that blank space where there should be at least seventeen years worth of memories within you, you're about willing to believe anything anyone tells you."
"But I'm not a idiot, like I said." Shrugging his shoulders, Paikaru slowly slipped back into his native accent once more. "As time passed, I realized that there were some fishy things goin' on. My accent chief among them. Considerin' how hard she worked to train it outta me in the first place, it didn't make sense that I would even have an accent in the first place if what she had told me was really true. An assassin strives ta be the kind ta not stand out in the first place, a thick Osakan accent like mine really didn't make much sense for me ta have in the first place."
"But what stood out the most of all was the fact that my reflexes were all wrong." Stretching out his legs in front of him, he narrowed his eyes. "Even if I lost my memories, those skills are somethin' that get ingrained in your body. But I didn't have anythin' like that, I had ta be taught that sort of thing all over again, which, in case ya were wonderin' is hell. What kind of assassin hesitates ta kill people in the first place? Well," for a moment, his expression became completely unreadable. "...such problems are long gone now."
"And there's..." Paikaru trailed off, a hand unconsciously reaching for his omamori, a slightly softer expression gracing his features, before he shook it off. "No, nothin' else. Those are the reasons I suspected somethin' fishy was goin' on. Well, not that I had much choice but ta go along with what I was told. Even if I ran away, killin' people like their obedient puppet was the only life I knew anythin' about, an' I figured they'd just catch up ta me eventually. What's the point, ya know? Frankly, Kudo-han, I thought I'd use ya as an escape method. I figured if I told ya what ya wanted ta know, ya could hook me up with yer friends in the FBI ta have me disappear."
"So that's why you let us capture you." Shinichi said finally. Letting out the breath he'd drawn in at the beginning of Paikaru's explanation, a guilty look surfaced on his face. Maybe if he'd tried even harder to locate Heiji, he could have saved him from this fate. To think that those people had taken his best friend, and used his amnesia against him to convince him that he was someone he wasn't, to turn him into something he wasn't ever meant to be... it made him sick.
And it was all his fault.
"We can't have you disappear, Paikaru." Shinichi said simply. "Because there are people out there waiting for you to come home. No," he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I suppose that's not quite right." He opened his eyes again, carefully gauging the reaction of the young man in front of him, Shinichi finally managed to ask the question that had been dancing on his lips all this time.
No one was waiting for Paikaru, the assassin. The person everyone was waiting for was-
"Do you know someone named Hattori Heiji?"
The way he didn't react to his own name was like a swift punch to his gut, the force of which nearly made him topple over. There wasn't even the slightest hint or spark of recognition within his eyes, no look of a memory returning to him.
"No." The one who had come to know his name as simply Paikaru shook his head. "Is that supposed ta mean somethin' to me? At the very least, it's not the name of anyone I've killed, if that's what yer askin'."
"I see." The bitter laugh that escaped from Shinichi was something even he wasn't prepared for. "You really don't remember anything, do you?"
"Isn't that what we've been sayin' fer like the past twenty minutes? The two of you were even the ones ta bring it up in the first place." Paikaru asked, looking more than a little disgruntled. "And what's so funny anyways?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing about this situation is funny." Shinichi stated plainly. "All this time I've thought you were dead- and in a way I suppose that's the truth of it. You seem to be somewhat like him, but..." Shaking his head, Shinichi finally felt the weight of it all get to him, falling back on another chair, bitter laughter continuing to escape. There were certainly small aspects of Paikaru that sent a surge of familiarity within him, but as a whole, he couldn't help but feel strangely cold to him. There was too strong a dissonance between Hattori Heiji and Paikaru, and trying to think of them as the same person was proving to be a difficult task. "Haibara, isn't there anything you can do?"
"If his memories haven't returned after five years, the prognosis isn't all that good." Ai said simply, narrowing her eyes in thought. "I wouldn't rule it out as completely impossible- it's likely that he's been kept far away from any stimulus that would have triggered the return of his memories. That's probably why he hasn't been active in Japan before this. Still, in order to expose him to such stimulus, we'd have to reintroduce him to things that were familiar to him in the past, so that option is a bit..."
"Impossible, right?" Shinichi shook his head. "There's no way we can drag him back home like this. I couldn't make his parents go through something like this."
"Hey!" Shinichi barely reacted as he found himself hoisted to the feet by his collar, eyes meeting the rather fearsome looking ones of Paikaru's. Even now, his anger was still cold, he thought. "You've been sayin' stuff that makes no sense fer awhile now, Kudo-han. Who exactly is this Hattori Heiji person ya asked me about anyways?"
"You." Shinichi said simply, eyes desperately searching for any indication of the carefree Osakan detective that he remembered. "He's you, Hattori."
As Paikaru's hands fell away from his collar, Shinichi felt himself breathing a little easier. Even with this, he thought grimly, there was no flash of recognition within the blue eyes of the one who had come to bear one of their codenames, through no fault of his own. There was, however, a look of confusion- one which was quickly replaced by a neutral expression as his guard once more slipped up, taking a step back from Shinichi.
"You make it sound like you know me." Paikaru almost whispered, an inherent distrust in his eyes. Shinichi couldn't blame him- after all, he'd spent the past five years trapped inside of what he knew was a lie. With no memories of his own, there was no reason for him to expect anything else from him other than the assumption that someone else was now trying to deceive him.
For a moment, he actually felt sympathetic for the person who currently wore the face of his best friend. What was it like, to wake up without any memories? To realize somewhere down the line, far too late, that the person who claimed that they knew you, had claimed that they had essentially raised you, had been lying to you the entire time? From the sound of it, he had the feeling that Paikaru was fully aware of the fact that he'd been turned into something that he wasn't meant to be. As much as some part of Shinichi wanted to resent him, he found that he couldn't do it.
Paikaru, he thought, wasn't just simply Hattori Heiji without his memories. Perhaps if they had crossed paths earlier, such a thing would still be true. But the five years of living as someone else had caused them to slowly craft their own identity, their own personality, one that carried within it traces of the detective of the west, but was also decidedly his own person.
"I don't know you." Shinichi said finally. "But I knew who you used to be. Very well, in fact. We were best friends." Watching his expression shift, watching that look of distrust in his eyes grow, Shinichi held up his hands. "I know, I get it. You've already been lied to, so I don't expect you to believe me with just words. But I can show you proof."
At the mention of proof, the suspicion in Paikaru's eyes seemed to die down somewhat. "Alright." He said after a moment. "I'll bite, Kudo-san."
"Right." Nodding his head, Shinichi knelt down, briefly breaking eye contact with him. He sensed a slight tension leave the assassin as he did so, watching curiously as he picked up the scrapbook that he'd gotten out ahead of time. It was something that Ran had put together long ago, a memorial album for him. "This is my proof, Paikaru. Will you accept it?"
"...I'll give it a look." Paikaru said after a moment, carefully taking the album from him. Shinichi couldn't help but note the fact that his left arm lagged slightly behind his dominant right, in a way that stood out to him, inwardly grimacing. How much of Paikaru's personality had been shaped by force and pain, he wondered, once again feeling a slight bit of sympathy for him.
He couldn't think of him as Hattori Heiji, but after actually speaking with him, he couldn't think of him as anything other than a victim of the Black Organization. The fact that he'd killed people couldn't be erased- and shouldn't be erased, but he couldn't allow himself to think in such black and white terms. There had been others like that as well, he thought. Born and raised within the Organization, taught nothing else- they actually lived the lie that the amnesiac Hattori Heiji had been fed. Every last one of them had been raised and instructed by Merlot, loyal to them even with their dying breaths. The fact that Paikaru didn't possess that kind of fanatical loyalty to them was what made him trust him, ever so slightly.
As that bit of information floated to the surface, a bolt of cold fear crept it's way up his spine. Perhaps he'd just been trying not to think about it until now, but now that he had started, he couldn't stop. The death penalty was something that he'd never cared for, even before the events on Tsukikage Island. Even in the case of those with the Black Organization, he'd protested against the very idea. It wasn't justice, it was just more murder.
Merlot's pupils, born and bred as trained killers, without fail, had all been sentenced to death. As far as anyone knew, Paikaru was her last surviving pupil.
In that instant, Shinichi made the connection that had been lingering in the back of his mind since the very beginning. If people knew... if word got out, the looks on the faces of those who had known Hattori Heiji the best were the least he had to worry about. Even if he'd once been known as the detective of the west, famed as a high school detective and spoken fondly of throughout the police, even if he had been the son of Osaka's Superintendent Supervisor... there probably wouldn't be any mercy.
If Paikaru were to stand trail, then there finally would be something to place within Hattori Heiji's grave. He'd fought fervently for those killers that Merlot had trained, imploring that they be given a life sentence, not death. And even though he was the famous high school detective Kudo Shinichi, instrumental in bringing the Organization down in the first place, his pleas had met with deaf ears. They were 'too dangerous to be allowed to live', they said.
There was no reason at all to think that it wouldn't be the same here. If- if he was to be brought in, then he would well and truly lose his best friend forever.
He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't.
"Do you recognize her?"
So caught up in such thoughts, he almost completely forgot about the person in question, who had taken a seat, and was now leafing through the photo album that had been given to him. Finally turning towards him, he realized that Ai had approached him, an assessing look in her eyes. Realizing that she was the one who had spoken, Shinichi wondered what the reason for her question had been- before he caught sight of the person who Paikaru's gaze was fixed on.
"No." Paikaru said after a long moment, slowly shaking his head. His tone and expression alike were strangely soft, one hand having drifted towards the faded omamori he wore. "I don't know her."
"Toyama Kazuha. She was Hattori's childhood friend." Shinichi spoke up this time. That way he had been so bothered by seeing him in possession of his omamori- there was something there, something of Hattori that lingered behind, too powerful to be overwritten by all the pain and lies in the world. "He was in love with her."
"Ah." Paikaru said simply, his grip on his omamori tightening slightly. And then, faintly, as if he hadn't meant for anyone else to hear it, a tender tone to his voice that Shinichi hadn't heard yet. "That explains it."
Once more, Shinichi and Ai found themselves drawing in a breath, exchanging a brief, wordless glance with each other.
"That's odd." They heard Paikaru mumble. "I think ya might have a leak somewhere, Kudo-han. There's water drippin' down."
"Paikaru." It was Ai who spoke up, a strangely soft edge to her voice. Somewhere along the line, as he looked through a photo album filled with faces that he didn't recognize, and one that he did- his own, from five years ago, that dreaded presence about him had completely vanished. What was left behind wasn't quite the sunny feeling that she'd known the boy named Hattori Heiji brought with him, a feeling which had made her inclined to trust the ally that Shinichi had vouched for all those years ago. With the black color that filled him, for the moment drained away, the only color that remained were the faintest hints of purple.
The same color as his charm. Even she, who had only come to know Kazuha somewhat over the past five years, could see it as clear as day. Whatever the Organization had twisted and warped Shinichi's most trusted ally into, to the point where he carried their unmistakable scent with him, it hadn't managed to erase everything.
"You're crying."
"Huh?" Paikaru blinked, a disbelieving look crossing his face. "Cryin'? Me? What kinda joke is that?" Reaching up a hand to his eyes, he almost laughed. "See, I'm not-"
As he felt his own tears, streaming hot down face, his look of befuddlement only grew. "Huh?" Blinking, he reached up, moving to wipe them away. "Huh? What's this... why am I..?"
Even if I die, I won't let you go.
Whose words were those?
"Oi, are you alright?" Shinichi found himself asking almost without thinking. "You don't have to look through the album any longer if you don't want to."
"Ah, sorry." The unfamiliar sound of the word of apology was strange on his lips. Snapping the album shut, he shuddered a little as the strange feeling that had seeped into him the moment he'd seen that face slowly began to flow back out of him. Drawing in a breath, the tears he didn't understand the reason for all but automatically ceased, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that 'Haibara' girl backing away from him.
He got the feeling she could sense something from him.
Rising to his feet finally, Paikaru handed the album back towards the detective, looking into his eyes as if searching for something. But no matter how much he studied his face, he didn't seem to recognize him. The face of the Haibara girl was alien to him as well- all of the faces in the photo album had been, complete strangers looking back at him. Even as she stirred something within him, the face of Toyama Kazuha was that of someone he didn't know.
All of them were strangers- including the one who wore his own face from five years ago. He didn't recognize that teenager, with a bright smile on his face who wore a baseball cap in nearly every picture, surrounded by no shortage of friends- and family as well.
But it was enough. It was more than enough to prove to him that for once, someone was actually telling him the truth. Kudo Shinichi, the detective who had brought down the Organization, was telling him the complete and utter truth.
Best friends.
No wonder it had felt as if he'd been looking at him the entire time expecting to see someone else. Himself? Best friends with a detective? Someone with as much blood on his hands as himself? It was worth laughing over, even. The notion was so absurd, so preposterous. The mere idea of having anything that could be called a friend alone was laughable enough, but to think of himself having been so close to a detective so driven by justice that he'd run a once mighty crime empire into the earth was almost like a bad joke to him.
But when he looked at those photographs, things began to make sense to him. It was strange, considering Kudo Shinichi hadn't even been in most of them, but rather a child, one who bore a striking resemblance to the twenty two year old detective. And yet even with the detective only showing up here and there, Paikaru felt as if he understood.
The two of them didn't know each other.
But Kudo Shinichi and Hattori Heiji had.
"Hey." Paikaru finally spoke up, his eyes narrowing. "What was he like? Hattori Heiji, I mean."
"A reckless idiot." Shinichi said, a slightly fond smile crossing his face in spite of himself. "The very picture of act first, think later. Hotblooded and honest to a fault, and always the type who wouldn't abandon a friend. He got angry, he laughed, and he smiled incredibly easily. And like me back then, he was a high school detective. Kudo of the East, and Hattori of West. That's how it used to be. He was my rival, and my trusted friend."
"Until he died." The grief and guilt in his voice was obvious to anyone. "At least, that's what I thought."
"I'm not-" Paikaru began, uncertain of what to say in this situation. He wasn't good with these kinds of emotions, after all. He was an assassin, he was accustomed to creating death, not dealing with it's fallout. Technically speaking, he supposed it was true that he was the one known as Hattori Heiji. They had the same face, the same body, the same voice. If he shared a number of mannerisms with him, he wouldn't be surprised.
But the name meant nothing to him. The only name he knew wasn't even a name, just a codename given by an Organization that had most likely known full well what they were doing when they took a detective and made a murderer out of him. Somehow, he didn't feel right claiming the name that had been given to him as his own.
He was just Paikaru.
"I know." Shinichi said finally, steeling himself as he looked towards Paikaru. "I don't expect you to be."
"You said you wanted to escape from the Organization." Shinichi said finally, holding out his hand towards him. "Let me help you, Paikaru. Work with me, and we can bring those last holdouts down. And I promise that I'll do whatever I can for you."
It probably was not a promise that a detective should be making to an assassin, but there was no way he could let what remained of Hattori face the same fate as all of Merlot's other pupils.
As Paikaru slowly took his hand, Shinichi firmly grasped it in his own. He had reached out with his own left, he realized, so that the Paikaru would be able to use his right, rather than his less than stellar left, and he'd done it without thinking.
"Ya gave me an answer, Kudo-han. Not that I know what ta make of it just, but..." Paikaru said simply, flashing him a grin that carried echoes of the detective of the west with it. "Just fer that alone, I'll tell ya anythin' ya want."
Clearing her throat, Ai startled the two men, who had almost forgotten she was there. "That's nice and all, but which one of us is going to have to inform Hakuba-kun of this partnership?"
At the time, Paikaru didn't quite understand why Shinichi swore underneath his breath.