AN: Here's chapter nine! Just from the name alone, it should be obvious who shows up finally in this chapter, ahahaha! Hopefully everyone enjoys it! Anyways, with that said, thank you for reading, and please leave a review if you can! Until next time!

Phantasmal Black

Chapter Nine

Merlot

Ran had to confess, she hadn't expected the reaction her words would earn from Paikaru would be for him to turn a bright shade of red. That was, however, exactly what he did, an action that was quickly followed by him promptly shutting the door in their faces.

"U-um, did I say something wrong?" Ran asked, nervously glancing over towards Shinichi, wondering if she'd perhaps upset him somehow. Thinking back on it, she'd accidentally used his real name, so maybe that was it... still, that reaction appeared more flustered than anything.

"No, you didn't." Heaving a slight sigh and rubbing the back of his neck, Shinichi cast her a small smile. "He doesn't really handle positive attention very well, as it turns. Give him a few second and he'll be fine."

"A-ah, I see." Blinking a little, somewhat surprised by this information, Ran nevertheless readily accepted it. She didn't think that she had done much- she had only done the obvious, welcoming their long lost friend back home. If something that small had managed to set him off- her eyes narrowed slightly, the cold feeling in her gut twisting up once more, though for a different reason this time. "I'll try to be more careful."

"Nah, he needs to hear stuff like that, I think." Shinichi said easily, giving her a shrug of his shoulders. From the look in Ran's eyes, he could guess that she had easily drawn the same conclusion that he had earlier. It was strange to think that it had only been a day ago now- it felt as if it had been a lot longer since Heiji had unexpectedly made his way back into his life. "I'm no therapist, but I'm pretty sure it helps."

"Still..." Ran trailed off, her words cut off by the door opening back up again, a slightly sheepish looking Paikaru, mostly recovered from his momentary lapse into incoherence, emerging once more. "Um, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'm okay." Paikaru was quick to reassure her, trying to brush aside her worries. His reaction was, admittedly, more than a little bit embarrassing- but he wasn't used to this sort of thing, and he had no idea what to do with the genuine kindness that was being tossed his way. That was part of why dealing with Hakuba was easier- he didn't have to deal with these strange feelings inside of him, things that he wasn't accustomed to, feelings he didn't have any proper outlet for. "Sorry ta worry ya, Mouri-han."

Blinking a little at the sudden return of his Osakan accent, Ran nevertheless smiled, realizing that he must have decided that she was someone that he could trust. His guard was still up, that much was clear to her- but not as much as it had been before. And quite honestly, she couldn't blame him for it- she didn't know what kind of circumstances he'd lived through for the past five years, but she could hazard a guess.

And frankly, it made her blood boil.

"Just Ran is fine, Hat-" She began, before quickly cutting herself off, realizing what she was about to say. "Ah, I'm sorry. Shinichi told me that you still prefer Paikaru right now."

"Ah, yeah." Scratching his cheek, Paikaru gave her something of a strained smile. "I'll get used ta it after awhile, but..." He trailed off a little, not wanting to openly admit that the reason he didn't feel comfortable being called what he knew now was his real name, was because he didn't think he deserved it anymore. He didn't want anyone's pity, and he was sure as hell that he couldn't deal with anyone's sympathy. "Nobody's called me that name in five years, so I really don't know it all that well. Sorry fer the trouble."

"No, it's no trouble at all." Ran was quick to say, shaking her head. Almost without thinking, she reached out to take his hand- his right, she noted, moving for the one without the fearsome scars as if by instinct. Although he visibly flinched at the action, he didn't pull it away, nor did his guard raise any further. "We're all just happy that you're alive, really. You can take as much time as you need to come to terms with, well, everything. Dealing with memory loss can't be easy, especially not when you've been lied to about who you are."

God, he really wasn't good at dealing with this sort of thing. Didn't this woman know who he was? The sort of things that he'd done? There was no mistake that she did, given what he'd overheard earlier in the day. And yet, she was still treating him this way, as if he was an old friend who had come home after a long time away, rather than some kind of imposter who simply wore his face.

This would be a lot easier for him if people would treat him in a way that matched how he felt about himself. He never had been quite certain what he expected the mystery behind his missing memories to be- but it wasn't some kind of detective, a former ally of the one who had helped destroy most of the Black Organization in the first place.

"Well, I'll admit ta that much." Paikaru said, carefully sliding his hand from her grasp, tucking both hands back into his pockets so that she couldn't try that again. Ever since this had started, he'd noticed that people had been trying to avoid direct physical contact with him- as if on some subconscious level they still couldn't forget what he was. This woman, this Mouri Ran, had just blasted right through all of that- and frankly, he didn't know what to make of it.

He didn't hate it, not exactly. Maybe there was still a part of him that yearned for that sort of thing.

"But what's already happened has already happened." Paikaru said with an easy shrug of her shoulder, casting a half smile down at her. "It's not like ya can turn back time, Neechan."

The nickname had rolled off his lips with such ease, but it wasn't until he saw the joint looks of surprise cross their faces, that Paikaru realized that this too, might have been something left over. Perhaps there were things, however fragmented, that he still remembered, here and there. It wasn't as if he could consciously call on them even knowing that, however, but he supposed it was almost comforting in a way to know that maybe there were still elements of the person he'd been that lay within him.

Just perhaps not as much as everyone was hoping for.

Clearing his throat, sensing the strange air that was starting to form, Shinichi patted Ran's shoulder. "Anyways, like I mentioned before, Ran here is my fiancee. She's also a black belt in karate, and is the current national champion." He couldn't help but feel pride swell up in him as he spoke those words, briefly recalling the vivid smile that had blossomed on her face when she won the match that had bestowed the honor on her. "She helped with taking down the Organization after..." He trailed off again a little, averting his eyes from both Paikaru and Ran alike. "...after you disappeared."

It was perhaps a blessing that Paikaru didn't even flinch. "Heh, this Neechan is? That's pretty impressive, ya know!"

"No, no, it's really nothing." Ran insisted, shaking her head. "With enough practice and dedication, anyone could do the same thing, I'm sure. Ah but do you remember? You used to be really great at kendo yourself!"

"Kendo? Me?" Tilting his head slightly to the side, Paikaru folded his arms in front of his chest, trying to see if he could recall anything like that. "Now that ya mention it, I've always thought I was kinda knowledgeable in that area. So I used ta practice it?"

"You did." Shinichi told him. "Well, although in truth Ran and I never actually got see you fight in an actual match. We tried to once, but..."

"You ran off to investigate a murder." Ran recalled.

"Did somethin' like that happen?" Paikaru blinked. Nothing really stirred within him at their words, much as he tried to bring something up- it only earned him a sharp, stinging pain, which he managed to cover up rather well. "Well, if ya say it happened, it probably happened."

He couldn't help but notice the way their faces fell, almost in unison. Heaving a song sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over towards Shinichi, deciding to change the topic. "So? Is there a reason ya introduced this Neechan ta me in the first place? Surely it wasn't just ta show off yer future bride." There was a slight pause there, a considering look crossing his face. "I suppose I should congratulate ya though."

Trying to mask just how much hearing that last sentence meant to him, Shinichi covered it with a more serious expression. "She found out, and insisted on it. There are plenty of other people who are waiting for you to come back home, you know. Even if you don't remember them."

"So ya've told me." Paikaru said, giving him an easy shrug, concealing the serpent's nest of feelings that were coiling inside of him. "An' if things work out with that old man and that old lady, I'll go an' face the rest of 'em myself."

"And if they don't?" Shinichi couldn't help but ask, carefully gauging Paikaru's reaction.

Casting a slightly rueful smile down towards him, Paikaru could only shake his head. "If they don't, there probably won't be anyone ta go back to. Ya probably know that better than anyone, Kudo-han."

He did, of course. He knew exactly what was at stake here. The Organization might not have the kind of power or reach that it had in the past, but it would be a fool's error to underestimate Gin- or Merlot, even given what very little he knew about her. Still, it didn't change his resolve at all- if they were coming here to Beika, like his gut instinct told him they would be soon, then he wanted to finish things once and for all, to finally dash away the shadows of the Black Organization once and for all. He wanted to meet Gin once more, face to face, and bring down the one who had tried to kill him on that night five years ago. Bring down the one who had haunted his dreams and plagued his nightmares for longer than he cared to admit.

And too, he wanted to come face to face with the woman who had turned his best friend from a hotblooded, quick tempered detective with a strong sense of justice, to an assassin with blood on his hands that could never be wiped away, no matter how much he wanted to. He wanted to come face to face with Merlot, and make her pay not just for what she had done to Heiji- but what she had done to countless other children, turning them into assassins, tools, who had been born into the Organization, and who had, in the end, died for the Organization, much as he fought to save them.

Because if there was one thing that he didn't appreciate, it was people who toyed with human lives. Mark his words- he'd bring the both of them to justice, much overdue.

The old adage might tell one that no news was good news, but in her line of work, that was far from the truth. Front page news was good news, the headlines detailing in bold letters, using their best scare words that such and such and so and so had been killed, suspected to be the work of an assassin. Perhaps not all of their targets earned so much attention- there were countless numbers of FBI agents and undercover operatives from countless other spy agencies that had simply slipped quietly into the night, never to be heard from again, mourned only by their coworkers and their family members, who might never learn the truth of why they had died.

Merlot loved the headlines. The big, black, bold print. The interviews with friend and family alike, unable to believe this turn of events, that their loved one's life had been cut short so quickly. She sought them out, in every language she knew, a countless litany of them that rolled of her tongue very much the same way she breathed. Those of her own, to be sure, but those of her pupils all the more so. In the past, she would fill binder upon binder with them, treasuring them as a mother would treasure the drawings their children had made for her, pinning them up on the fridge.

At the very end, she was left with only one pupil, as all of her others vanished from her sight, disappearing. Not beyond her reach, but beyond her interest. If they had gotten themselves captured, they were no longer worth anything to her, no longer worth the effort. All the time she had taken to train them, to raise them, now down the drain, their binders torched and burned, returning to the earth, just as the ones who they were tied to soon did.

But her last pupil was her finest- her most perfect work yet. She knew from the very moment that she lay eyes upon him that he was perfect, that she had to have him. That this one was going to be hers, no matter what she needed to do to obtain him. That fierce grin, that gifted physical ability, that sharp brain- it was all just right, and she sought nothing else but to make him her own, a single minded focus even as the Organization slowly began to fall apart around her.

And then, just like that, he had fallen into the palm of her hand. No tricks, no strings pulled, no blood shed other than the boy's own, and not even by her own hand. It was as if he was delivered straight to her by the hand of God, a present carried in by the choppy waves. She had gone to watch Vodka's foolish, inevitable capture, catching the scent of the trap that was closing in on him.

When she watched the one that she desired be shot, Merlot felt as if she too, had been shot. When he fell into the sea, slipping out of the hands of the curious child that did not seem like a child at all to her, she began to despair.

And then, lo, she found him. He was in rather bad shape at the time, so finding someone to care for him was urgent, but thankfully, she knew just the person. A reliable underground doctor, known for keeping their silence and asking no questions. If she brought in one who was famous for being a high school detective- a waste of his talents, really- then they wouldn't even pat an eye, and would only strive to save the life of the patient thrust in front of them.

It was surely fate. Fate that she found him. Fate that they shared a blood type- he'd lost so much blood already, nearly on death's door when she pulled him out of the sea. Fate that when he finally woke up, he woke up as not Hattori Heiji, the son of Hattori Heizo, the high school detective of the west- but as an empty shell with no memories of his own.

The codename had slipped off her lips with ease as she spoke to him for the very first time, her tone familiar and warm, as if she had known him all of his life. As if it was she, and not his flesh and blood mother, who had raised him from birth, who had taught him everything that he knew, who had shaped him into who he was. And she would, taking that raw potential that had so caught her eye, and bringing it out, creating a pupil beyond even her wildest dreams.

He learned so quickly. Gifted, really, a talent for it, as much as he hesitated at first. To think that he'd wasted all of those years using his intellect and ability chasing down murderers, instead of putting it to use doing what he was surely put on this earth to do in the first place. She could only once again thank God for bringing her this gift, this delightful present at the very start of the twilight years of her life.

She'd leave behind a splendid legacy after all.

Gone, wiped away was Hattori Heiji, as he should be. In his place, her lovely pupil, Paikaru was born, as she slowly crafted him from the empty shell that had been left in his place. There were still some things, small things, that she knew had not disappeared. That pesky accent of his, that charm that he clung to that she knew she couldn't do away with. But such things were minor, and were of no bother to her- she could allow them, she thought. Even when she realized that he had begun to suspect everything that he had told had been a lie, it was already far too late for him.

Too far, had he gone in this life, unable to turn back. And even as he realized the truth, his memories did not return, lost to him just as much as his real name was. She had become secure in her knowledge that Hattori Heiji would never come return- and that perhaps in a few years, Paikaru would stop questioning the seventeen year gap in his memory, and simply accept who he was now as the one, the only truth.

But then there had been that girl.

The girl who had lived, the girl who had escaped him. At first, she thought that was true. Paikaru was talented, to be sure, but he wasn't perfect- not yet. It was only after that she had chanced upon a photograph of her that something tugged at her own memory, and she began diving into the young man's unnecessary past once more- and had realized, with narrowed eyes, the truth.

A childhood friend, a girl by the name of Toyama Kazuha, who held too close of a resemblance to the girl who had escaped to be a coincidence. And she knew, she knew at once, that this was no miraculous escape. She knew at once that she had been spared, that some small fragment of Hattori Heiji had surfaced, however briefly, and had let her live, some half-forgotten fragment that refused to forget the face of someone that he knew from a life he no longer remembered.

That would not do.

The need for a test rose up- and when the request to kill a certain female police Inspector crossed her desk, she knew that it was the one. So she had sent out Paikaru, allowing him to return to his homeland of Japan for the first time since he'd left it, after he'd recovered from his injuries enough to travel. She had expected good results.

And yet, no news had come. Surely her murder would result in something of a stir- and yet, nothing. And she knew. She knew that the test had failed. Had his memories returned? No, surely not, not after all this time, not after so long with no sign of them bubbling to the surface.

So something had gotten in his way- or someone, she thought, tapping her desk as her sharp gaze fell on the young man pictured on her screen. He was someone she was not interested in. Kudo Shinichi might have brought down most of the Organization around her- not that she much cared, she had plenty of work unrelated to them lined up, enough to sustain her for all of her years of life- but he was of no interest to her. But she knew, oh how she knew, that he bore a connection to the one that she had taken in, a strong connection.

And that were he to learn of his dear friend's survival, then steps would be taken to bring him back into his fold. Even if he suspected him as a traitor, unaware, unknowing that the one he had called his friend and ally had no memories of such a time, there was very little doubt in her mind that he would attempt to deal with the matter personally. And in such a scenario, the truth would come out.

One needed sharp instincts to survive in this trade, and Merlot's had been sharpened for a very long time indeed. She knew that this one, this young man, this detective, had involved himself in the matter, and that he currently had her precious child in the palm of his hand, threatening to bring back Hattori Heiji, who she had tried so hard to erase.

And that she would not allow.

Gracefully standing up from her desk, Merlot could hear the distant shores of Japan all but calling for her. Her other pupils were useless to her, long forgotten now- but Paikaru was someone that she would not let go. They were bound by the blood they shared, the blood that she had generously donated to him on that night to save his life, and she had no intention of seeing such a bond broken.

"Just wait a bit longer, Paikaru." Merlot spoke, her voice light and airy. "It won't be much longer now. I'll come and pick you up right away."

Her little finger's itch had not yet gone away, and quite frankly, it was starting to bother her. It had never quite been like this before, though it was something that had plagued her ever since Heiji had left her life. It wasn't quite the tug that she felt on it from time to time- much less pleasant than that, as if what caused the sensation to bubble up inside of her was not hope, but rather, something else.

The red string of fate felt as if it were chafing her, and she didn't like it. Even as she tried to place her hand over her precious omamori to calm herself, she felt strangely nervous, oddly on edge. Kazuha wasn't quite certain why she was, but she was certain that it had to do something with the stack of Ellery Queen novels that she had discovered at Shinichi's place, and the strange, oddly familiar gaze that she had felt leveled on her there.

It was as if she were being haunted by a ghost.

Though she was always one to believe in that sort of thing, even now that she was an adult, she scoffed at the notion that it could be Heiji's. She was certain, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Heiji was still very much alive, wherever he was, and whatever it was that he was doing. The occasional tug that she felt on her little finger and the warmth that her omamori sometimes generated were proof enough to her as that- as well as the knowledge that Heiji wouldn't die from something as small as being shot and falling into the ocean. He'd already gone through both such things already, and while admittedly it hadn't been at the same time, he had still survived them largely unscathed.

There was no way that he could be dead, so there was no way that his ghost could possibly be haunting her.

Although she had gotten the answers that she had sought by coming to Tokyo, somehow, Kazuha wasn't satisfied. It wasn't just because of his strange sense of being haunted that was plaguing her, but rather had everything to do with what she had been told earlier in the day. There was a sense of both apprehension and almost excitement as the shadow of that Organization, those dreadful people who had taken Heiji from her life, loomed over her once again, threatening to swallow everything up. She had no intention of letting it, of course. Detective she might be, but her sense of justice wouldn't lose to anyone.

There was also the sense that there was something that she wasn't being told, something that Shinichi had left out when he had explained the situation to her. Likewise, she wasn't certain how she felt about the news that they were now working together with Paikaru, the assassin that they had spent so long trying to track down in the first place. As her thoughts returned to him, she found herself lightly rubbing her little finger again, the need to itch it bubbling back up once more.

"At the very least, we don't think he willingly became an assassin."

Those words from Hakuba had struck her as being strange. He knew as well as she did exactly what kind of things that Paikaru was capable of, and yet, he'd still spoken such words. Almost words of defense, really- what was it about the assassin that had prompted him to speak them in the first place? He had clearly met with him, of that Kazuha had very little doubt, so what kind of impression did he leave on Hakuba and Shinichi alike that both of them were willing to throw their lots in with him, and his promise to betray the Organization in return for their help in leaving it.

Either way, she had no intention of leaving Tokyo for the time being. She had called back to police headquarters and requested for an extension of her time off, and had booked herself a hotel room. She would be here for as long as the confrontation with the Black Organization lasted, and for as long as she needed to be here in order to get some answers.

"Kazuha-chan?"

Breaking out of her thoughts, Kazuha turned towards the person who had spoken to her- her smile quickly soured by the knowledge that they had been approached before her with all of this information. "Sera-han." She said after a moment, before heaving a sigh, glancing towards the empty seat across from her. "Ya might as well sit down. Ya in Tokyo cause Kudo-kun called ya?"

Sera's expression didn't falter as she pulled out the chair across from her, taking a seat in it. She had spotted the ponytailed girl by complete chance- and had decided to call out to her. All things considered, they weren't really that close, though they had gotten to know each other better over the past few years. More friendly acquaintances than proper friends, really.

Perhaps it was her meeting with the one previously known as the high school detective of the west, still fresh in her mind, that had prompted Sera to do so. Perhaps it was simply the upcoming clash with the Organization that had made her do so. But whatever the case, she was here now, sitting across Toyama Kazuha at a rather lovely cafe, carrying the weight of knowledge in her mind.

That, and the fact that she would never pass up the chance to speak to a pretty girl sitting by herself at a cafe. Chasing her would be a fruitless effort, she knew full well- her heart was still devoted to her childhood friend, even after all these years.

What a funny and cruel thing, fate was. Hattori Heiji had turned out to be very much alive, but the two of them had been cast as enemies without either of them being aware of it. She certainly wasn't going to be the one to inform her of the truth. It was better left to those who knew them both better.

"I am." Sera said with a nod of her head. "I'm guessing that you've heard what's approaching us soon." Careful to mind her words in this public space, she smiled as the waitress greeted her, quickly ordering herself an iced coffee.

"That I have." Kazuha said simply, taking a long drink of her tea, before she set the cup back down. "I hear Kudo-kun called both you an' Kuroba over yesterday."

"Are you mad?" Sera asked.

"A little. But not at ya." Kazuha confessed after a moment, heaving a slight sigh. "I just don't appreciate the way Kudo-kun tries ta go behind people's backs sometimes. After all this time, ya'd think he'd know that he can depend on us- all of us, not just the ones who are detectives." And then, after a slight pause. "An' whatever the hell Kuroba's supposed ta be."

"That's just the way he is." Sera said simply, deciding it was best if she just left it at that. She knew full well that Shinichi had his reasons for leaving Kazuha out of the loop, though judging from her words, he'd obviously since told her something. Not the fact that her childhood friend was still alive, she knew. It was clear as day that Kazuha still had no knowledge of this fact, only her belief still. "What did he tell you, by the way? Considering that you're here, you must have gotten something out of him."

Dropping her voice, her eyes darting around the cafe to make sure that there were no prying ears, Kazuha's expression turned rather serious. "That Merlot an' Gin are likely ta come, soon. That somethin' big is gonna start happenin' just as soon with it." And with a slight frown on her face, her brows furrowing together as she brought it up. "An' that they're workin' together with that Paikaru guy now."

"Did you meet him?" Sera asked, barely sparing her a glance, on the off chance that she picked up something in her eyes.

"No." Kazuha said, shaking her head. "Frankly, I'm not sure if I want ta. Kudo-kun sounds like he trusts him, but Kudo-kun hasn't been trackin' him like Hakuba-san an' I have. I'm just amazed Hakuba-san's goin' along with it at all, if I have ta be honest. He doesn't seem like the type ta put such things behind him so easily."

"Well," Considering the cup of coffee that she had been brought, Sera carefully chose her words. Even though she didn't know him as well, it tore at her heart nevertheless to hear Kazuha unwittingly saying such things about the person that she had given her heart to, long ago. "...Paikaru's circumstances are special, from what I've gathered. He's certainly a criminal, but I don't think he's a monster."

"After all," Sera continued, deciding to take a slight gamble here, setting down her cup. Shinichi had told her further details in private, information that he didn't want to voice around Paikaru himself. "...from what I understand, it seems that the girl who got Hakuba-san on his tail to begin with didn't just survive by mere good luck. He let her live."

Visible shock passed through those green eyes, as Kazuha set down her teacup with a loud clink. "Are ya serious?" She asked, half unable to believe her ears. To think that someone like that had actually spared a life- and what's more, put his own identity at risk by doing so. Quite frankly, she couldn't believe it- it didn't make any sense to her, didn't fit with the actions that she had read up upon, the case reports filed in regards to him. "Why would he do somethin' like that? Are ya sure?"

"There's no mistake." Sera said, shaking her head. She hadn't heard the words from Paikaru's mouth herself, but she didn't doubt that Shinichi's instincts were right. "I don't think he's quite what you think he is, Kazuha-chan."

"So ya've met him yerself, then, I take it." Kazuha remarked, narrowing her eyes. So now not only was Hakuba defending the guy, but Sera too? What exactly had he done to earn so much trust from the three of them, that they were willing to put aside his past crimes in order to work alongside him?

What sort of guy was he?

"I have." Sera said with a nod. "He's a rather interesting person. In all honesty, Kazuha-chan, I think you'd like him."

"Are ya serious with that?" Kazuha asked, casting her a look of disbelief. "What makes ya so sure, Sera-han?"

"Instinct, I suppose."

"Does it hurt?"

The unexpected question caught him off guard, as he found a pair of curious blue eyes glancing down at him. Briefly wondering what it was with people and not letting him finish his reading in peace, Paikaru closed the novel that he was reading. Setting it aside, the assassin glanced up at the woman who hovered over him, strands of hair trailing over her shoulder.

"Does what hurt?" He asked, briefly locking eyes with her, in spite of knowing full well what she meant. It didn't take a genius to guess that she was talking about his left arm- he'd seen the way her gaze had lingered on it. Usually he went to greater things to cover it up, but there was no point in doing that now, not when everyone who came to visit had seen it in all of it's scarred glory. They danced out like miniature lightning bolts, crackling all the way up his arm, just slightly peeking out around his neck, a constant reminder of the element that had created them in the first place.

"Your left arm." Ran told him, carefully taking a seat on the floor across from him. She had decided on her own that she was going to be living with Shinichi for awhile, and had briefly returned to her own apartment to gather up some of her things, before she had come back, claiming a room for herself before Shinichi could stop her. She'd lightly teased him, telling him to consider it as a preview of their married life, something which had quickly gotten him to shut up.

When she had returned, she had sought out Heiji- Paikaru- once again- she had gathered up her own album from home, and wanted to share it with him, hoping that it might spark something within him. Although Shinichi had already told her that he'd shown him the memorial album that she had made for him, she nevertheless wanted to try. Besides, even if he couldn't remember the events that transpired that had been frozen in time in the form of photographs for himself, there was still meaning in seeing them. It would give him something to fill the void with, that gaping, yearning void where nothing existed.

It gave her shivers, just thinking about it.

Ran had found Paikaru in the library of the Kudo manor, sitting cross legged on the ground, leaning up against the desk, his nose buried in an Ellery Queen novel. Though he didn't glance up from it, she knew that he had realized she'd come in from the faint twitch of his fingers, from the raising of his guard.

"It doesn't hurt." Paikaru told her frankly. It really didn't- he had no sense of pain in it, and the barest sense of touch. It still worked, which was good enough for him. "An'? What is it that ya want, Neechan? Given what yer holdin' I can make a guess, though."

"I wanted to share this album with you." Ran told him, a bright smile on her face. She got the feeling that she put him ill at ease, and all of her efforts to counteract that only seemed to put him even more ill at ease. She had eventually concluded that he simply wasn't used to people being this nice to him. "Although it's fine if you don't want to look through it, Ha-" Quickly stopping herself again, a look of guilt flashing through her eyes, Ran's smile turned sheepish. "Paikaru."

Eyes carefully studying the young man clad in black now that she had a chance to be alone with him, Ran couldn't help but feel her smile falter somewhat as she did so. To see Heiji again, alive, after so long of thinking him dead, only for him to have ended up this way- she still didn't know what to make of it, frankly. She knew that she needed to do her best to make him comfortable and to reassure him, especially after what he'd been through, especially with the things that he had done- but there were times when she found herself struggling to actually see Heiji in him, once she got past his face.

"I'll look at it." Paikaru said after a moment, extending a hand. "Give it here."

At his words, her smile lit back up, and she quickly passed the album back over towards him. Scooting herself somewhat closer to him, she watched as he blinked, casting a wary eye towards her- before he turned his attention away from her again, apparently accepting her presence there. "Yer a weird person, Neechan."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Ran said lightly, watching as he opened up the album. "Ah, that person right there is your mother." She said, pointing towards the woman in the picture, noticing the way Paikaru flinched as her hand crossed into his personal space. "Hattori Shizuka. She's pretty, isn't she?"

"Yeah, I guess." Blinking slightly, Paikaru glanced down at the woman in the photo, half wondering if Ran was pulling his leg at first. Her pale skin was in total contrast to his own- but upon studying her further, he realized that they very much had the same eyes. It was a strange thing to think about, really- he'd long since assumed that his birth parents had been dead. He didn't know what to think of the idea that they were still out there somewhere, alive and well.

"Ah, and this man here is your father!" Ran brightly added, tapping another face in the photograph. "Hattori Heizo. He's the highest ranking officer in the Osakan police force, you know!"

"Heh, is that so? He's-" The meaning of Ran's words suddenly hitting him like a pile of bricks, Paikaru's eyes went wide, suddenly turning back towards her. "Are ya serious about that!? My old man's supposed ta be some kind of police officer? An' not only that, the head honcho himself?"

Ah. Now that expression, a mixture of shock and disbelief, was something she was accustomed to seeing on Heiji's face. Was it possible that nobody had told him about his parents yet? What was Shinichi even doing? With a slow nod of her head, Ran replied to him. "Yes. He is. He's rather famous, actually. Don't tell me you didn't know?"

"Of course I didn't know!" Paikaru snapped, his temper, for a moment flaring up- before he withdrew it with a long sigh, closing his eyes, letting his head thump back against the desk. He didn't know what to expect from his supposed parents- but his father being the chief of an entire prefecture's police force was not it. And to think he was...

What a failure of a son he'd turned out to be, he couldn't help but think. The idea that he could ever go back to these people he didn't know, pretending to be someone that he knew he wasn't, only became more distant with this latest information. It was impossible. There was no way.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you any pain." It was Ran's soft voice that forced him to open his eyes, slowly turning to meet her gaze. There was sympathy written in them- no distant pity, but only pure sympathy, that cut him deeper than any blade, or any careless words of hatred. He just wanted to push her away from him, to go back to things that he understood- to the negative whirlpool which had engulfed him before he'd even realized it. "We can put the album away for now, Paikaru."

She should have known. She should have known better to tell him something like that- and yet, it hadn't even occurred to her. This was an expression that she had never seen Heiji make before, and the sharp pain that it sent through her heart carried with it deep feelings of regret. Maybe there was a reason Shinichi was trying to dance around his past as much as he could right now.

"No, it's not yer fault." Paikaru said finally, closing the album with a sharp sound. "Ya just wanted ta help. There's no shame in that."

"But-" Ran began, her words cut off as Paikaru scooped up to his novel, rising to his feet.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." He told her, lightly tapping the top of her head with his book. "Yer really a weird person though, Neechan."

As Ran slowly rose to her feet, carefully scooping up the abandoned photo album, holding it tightly to her chest, she couldn't help but wonder if she head just made everything worse. All she wanted to do was try and help Heiji- not to cause him anymore pain. But perhaps that was unavoidable. Perhaps there was no way out of this situation that didn't involve pain and suffering, much as she might try and find a way.

Because even if Heiji started to remember things, it might only make the pain he was carrying inside of him all the worse. And as much as she wanted to do something to stop that, she knew that there was nothing anyone could actually do about it.

Except, for perhaps, one person.