Disclaimer: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito and Push are properties of the authors, studios and publishers. No money claimed here, just for amusement.

Warning: Supernatural themes, violence & some bad language

Author's note: Fun with fish! Believe it or not, the strange, strange fish anecdote in this chapter really happened – only they were raising carp.

Chapter Two: Framework

"…yes, yes, understood. The drug and the scene will remain off the official records; but sir, I have to say I don't like thi….no, sir! Absolutely not, sir! As you say, sir. Yes, well, good…" Inspector Nakamori, head of the task force slammed the surveillance van's phone back onto its cradle with enough force to rattle the console. "Jackass," he hissed through gritted teeth, his face an amazing shade of red. He was about to spew a flood of vitriol to relieve the pressure cooker of his fury, but as he looked up he hastily swallowed the words. The youngest and, he could admit it; most intelligent member of his Task Force was quietly standing before him, as if he'd simply appeared out of nowhere.

Good grief, what chain of events had lead them to hiring children no older than his own daughter?

"Hakuba-kun, I hope you've got some good news for tonight. It's going to be hell explaining just how we managed to level a building. Usually we have to blame the damn thief for that."

Nakamori-keibu's eyes widened as Saguru silently placed the Star of the Western Sea in front of him. "My God…" he looked at Saguru. "I am impressed, young man."

Saguru shifted on his feet. "To be honest with you, sir, it wasn't anything more than luck."

Nakamori-keibu sighed and steepled his fingers. "Piece of advice, Hakuba-kun. It's best to keep that kind of thing to yourself. It never hurts to have a bit of mystique about your reputation. Stealing a jewel back from a jewel thief? Pure gold."

Nakamori watched the self possessed face in front of him. Just for a moment he was sure the young man was slightly taken aback, but he covered it well. It was nice to know – in fact, it was comforting to know – that there was still a little bit callow youth still left in this young man before him. Something that still believed and learned and made assumptions and wonderful, innocent mistakes; Nakamori had seen too many not-children in his time on the Force, adults in children's clothing whose childhood had been ripped away and stolen. Say what you would about the Kid, he at least gave what he stole back.

At first glance Saguru Hakuba appeared to be like those not-children, and for all the usefulness in his mature outlook and insight, Nakamori was always secretly glad that there was still a kid in there somewhere.

"They'll be commendations for this, you mark my words," Nakamori continued.

The blonde detective shrugged. "It's the Task Force's victory, sir, not mine."

Nakamori grinned. Because honour is important to you, right kid? Honest reward for honest victory. Yep, still definitely a kid; but nevertheless a detective he would officially hire in a second if he carried his traits into adulthood.

Namakori regarded Hakuba from his chair. He could see the mind in the ice blue eyes calculating and connecting with a finesse and skill only true talent could grant and time would only sharpen. "How much of the phone conversation did you hear?"

"Everything from 'the drug and the scene', sir," the kid's face was bland, his eyes were sharp. "I did not mean to intrude, Nakamori-keibu."

Nakamori waved a dismissive hand at that. He was willing to accept the intention was sincerely there; but Hakuba was a detective born and bred, and detectives were paid to be nosy parkers. "Yes, well, let's not waste time insulting either of our intelligences, shall we?" Nakamori offered. "I'm sure you know everything there is to know about confidentiality, so I'm not even going to start with you on that."

"I will not speak of anything you tell me now to anyone, sir," the boy promised solemnly.

Nakamori nodded. "Very well. When the scaffolding collapsed, it appears to have landed right on top of a high end drug deal. Seems like some of the more sophisticated criminal element was making good use of the empty streets from our secured perimeter." Nakamori grimaced at that; so did Saguru. Nakamori withdrew a large syringe in an evidence bag from the inside of his jacket – the liquid inside was dark and fathomless. "According to the call I just got from the head of the Drug Department," he cast an extremely nasty look at the phone. "This drug is a huge deal in Hong Kong at the moment – so big, that he doesn't even want the details released to the Task Force. The man wouldn't even tell me the damn stuff's name. Apparently they're about to have a major sting there; any word of this stuff leaving Hong Kong or falling into police hands could bring the whole operation down. So as of now, even as far as the Task Force is concerned, this has not happened, the drug is not here. I'm not even to check it into the normal chain of evidence."

Saguru was shocked; no wonder Nakamori-keibu was so livid. Not just ordered to blatantly ignore the most basic custody procedures, but asked to keep secrets from his own Task Force? That sort of thing could break a department; it certainly killed morale more efficiently than a bullet. Saguru looked at the loaded syringe again. "That drug must be worth quite a lot and is definitely not for the average street user." Saguru shook his head. "What about the dealers, sir? They're not expecting us to just let them get away?"

"They've mostly already gotten away, son. The building fell almost on top of them – no one dead, thankfully, but they all escaped custody in the confusion. It took the Task Force a while to get here and sort out the mess; the money, apparently, went with one of the escaped dealers, the drugs," he gestured to the evidence bag. "This is one; there may be others, maybe in the rubble or maybe with the dealers that escaped; the Task Force is searching right now, in between dealing with the damn fish."

Saguru blinked. "Fish?"

"You didn't see the fish? The damn alley is swimming in them!"

"I came down from the roof using the building stairs, Nakamori-keibu, and came straight from the front door to here," Saguru explained. "I did notice an unusual amount of…unprofessional language coming from the alley, but I thought the gem should be secured before all else."

"Some…completely mad Vietnamese immigrants living on the seventh floor of the opposite building were trying to breed some kind of large, non-local fish species in their living room – quite a few were bred by the looks of things. When the construction fell in a couple of pipes and stanchions took a sizable chunk out of their wall and broke their windows. Fish started coming out of the holes." Nakamori began digging around one end of the van while Saguru frowned, trying to connect all the facts and figure out what the big deal about a few fish was. The Inspector drew out what looked like a plastic filing tub and brought it over to the operations desk, the tub now hastily filled with water and holding a writhing, bumping occupant. "The Task Force is pressing any container they can find into service; every man o' jack of 'em wants a personal word with the idiot who kept them, whatever the hell they are. They're vicious, we know that much."

"Well, it's an unusually large fish species to keep as pet," Saguru said slowly, trying to get a read on the species from what he could see through the partially transparent plastic. "Especially in such a small apartment, but I don't quite see why…"

"I don't think you quite heard me right, Hakuba-kun," Nakamori pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Vietnamese people were breeding them in their living room. Their entire living room. Apparently they lined the entire living room and front foyer with plastic sheeting on the floor and up the walls and filled it two feet deep in water. God knows how they answered the door if anyone came, they'd have had to wade to get to it."

Saguru's jaw dropped open. "And no one noticed the entire seventh floor had turned into an aquarium?"

"The neighbours below have been complaining about mould and slime coming down their walls, but they clearly never saw inside the apartment with the home made lagoon." Nakamori gloomily poked at the specimen circling its temporary habitat. "Once we've cleaned up we're trying to find somewhere to put them until the local aquarium can make space for them. They're trying to requisition an old factory not far from here, just temporarily."

Saguru looked down into the tub. "That is absolutely unbe…piranha,"

"What?"

"Sir, this fish is a piranha," Saguru clarified.

Nakamori's eyes bulged, and his hand flew back from the water almost too fast to be seen. "What? Are you sure?"

"Yes sir. I once worked with Scotland Yard on an illegal animal trading ring; actually, that was where I acquired Watson," Saguru stared at the fish. "They were trading several exotic fish species too. That is definitely a piranha."

"Oh, fabulous!" Nakamori threw up his hands. "Kaitou Kid escapes again, half a building is gone, there's a drug that is here but isn't, and now we have a street full of man eating fish to deal with!"

"Actually Nakamori-keibu, piranhas aren't man-eating. That myth was started by local guides in Brazil who set up a feeding frenzy trying to impress Theodore Roosevelt when he explored the area early in the 1900's. Piranha's do bite, but are only dangerously aggressive when starved…." He trailed off in the face of Nakamori's glare.

"Well, judging by the fish skeletons that also ran out onto the street, and the fact that most of the Task Force has had at least one brush with losing fingers, and the fact that we can only put one fish per container because they'll attack each other otherwise…I deduce that these monsters are extremely hungry and incredibly pissed off," Nakamori glared at the fish. "A state of affairs I sympathize with entirely."

Saguru cleared his throat. "I will go out and assist the Task Force, sir." It couldn't be too much harder than training his falcon, surely?

"No, you will go home," Nakamori rubbed his face. "Sleep. Play video games, or whatever it is teenage boys do. It's well past your shift hours by now."

Saguru's eyes narrowed. "I realize there had to be a lot of agreements in place in order for me to work as a consultant for the department, sir, but I can promise you my father will not fire you for asking me to do my fair share." He hated when people downplayed his workload because of his age. He carried his weight on the Task Force, and never let so much as a gram slip from his grasp.

"This doesn't come from your father, kiddo," Nakamori looked almost amused. "Although he and I have had words over this before, you can bet on it. It's just that if you go to school with bags under your eyes my daughter makes sure I know it, usually at the top of her voice."

Saguru hastily took a step back. "She doesn't?"

Nakamori chuckled at the blonde's suddenly flustered face. "Unfortunately, she does. She is a police officer's daughter after all, and she's learned how to observe and deduct. I'd rather not incur her wrath; she tends to get vehement about people she cares for."

"I've always appreciated her kindness," Saguru managed weakly, visibly pulling himself together from his embarrassment.

Nakamori took pity on the intensely reserved teenager. "Get out of here. I'll see you Monday; I'll take your reports then."

"Yes sir, I'll have them ready." Saguru made his escape with hasty grace, exiting the van with a salute.

Nakamori sighed at the swinging van door. On any other teenage boy, that reaction would have indicated a raging crush, which he would be parentally duty bound to ward off with death threats. But young Hakuba…whatever his many other talents, he just didn't seem to have a knack for handling anything even remotely personal.

Hopefully, Aoko and Kaito would continue to get him to open up. It was terrible to see someone so young, who was also so lonely.

Saguru didn't go home as ordered; it was nearly midnight now and his mystery guest was probably already waiting for him at 'the clock with no workers, only minders, and no hands but a dial'; or, in other words, the Haiba Park floral clock, near the sundial. A flower bed who's flowers bloomed so punctually they told the time; a clock with no 'works', but it did have a slew of gardeners, or 'minders', and no minute or hour hands but a sundial.

The marble sat in his pocket, feeling heavier than any marble should.

Saguru sat on one of the park benches, and waited. He was trying to remember everything he knew about…the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

The clock stuck midnight.

"So you're the one who's supposed to help me, huh?"

Saguru turned.

The half-Brit hadn't had any particular expectations, and the short figure standing on the garden path certainly didn't meet any of the expectations he hadn't had. Standing before him was a boy no more than ten or eleven, short, skinny and red haired in a way that shone like a halo. He spoke Japanese quite well, but his accent was straight off the streets of London. His eyebrows were red as well, and drawn sharply down towards his angular nose, buttressed by high cheek bones and a jutting chin; the overall effect gave him a faintly irritated looking face even when he was happy.

Not that he looked happy now; his face bore a suspicious and pinched look.

Saguru very carefully didn't move. The boy's stiff posture indicated a willingness to bolt. "I suppose I am. My mother did send you here, after all."

The red head grunted dismissively at that. "I've never actually met the woman. I just know what mum told me about her," he shot Saguru a glare. "So I don't know you, and I don't know if you're trustworthy or not. Don't pretend we can be friends."

Saguru felt his eyes narrow in annoyance. It was late and he was tired, but he held back any sharp retort. The boy was thin and pale and had stark, dark bags under his eyes; his clothing had seen better years, his shoes were falling apart, and his eyes were bloodshot and paranoid. He clutched a duffel bag nearly as big as he was with fervor of someone holding onto the whole universe. You didn't need to be a detective to see the boy had been through the wringer, and quite recently at that.

Instead Saguru just raised an eyebrow and substituted with "I thought Watchers were mostly female."

The boy's face went red with ire. "Yeah?" he retorted with spiky sarcasm. "Well two hundred years ago all actors in the theatre were male. I think the state of the art was only improved by some curves and a little bouncing, don't you?" He took a few steps closer, scowling. "What sort of thing it that to say to a guy Watcher?"

Saguru calmly folded his hands onto his lap, doing his best to appear non-threatening. "I don't know. Usually when two people meet they introduce each other, rather than throw insults." He extended a hand. "Saguru Hakuba."

The boy stared at the hand warily, but conceded enough ground to join Saguru on the bench, although on the very edge on it. "Casey Smoke."

Saguru raised an eyebrow. "Casey…?"

"Smoke," the red head's eyes dared Saguru to make something of it. "My mum wasn't going to name me Cassandra now, was she?" Casey snorted. He gave Saguru a speculative look. "Okay, so what are you? You know, Sniffer, Mover, Pusher…"

"I'm a detective." Saguru stared off into the distance.

Casey frowned at him. "I've never heard of that type before."

"You generally find us in police departments," Saguru explained sardonically.

"Oh, come on!" Casey threw up his hands in frustration. "Are you seriously telling me you've got no psychic talent whatsoever? What the hell good are you supposed to do me? After all this! Why do they think a stupid mundane can help me?"

Saguru pursed his lips in irritation. "I suppose that all depends on what kind of help you need. I may or may not be psychic, but I do know that you were born in London's West End; you also spent a considerable amount of time in Scotland, probably in a rural district. You didn't get here by plane – you got as far as Shanghai and have spent at least the last two weeks in Hong Kong; you then stowed away on a fishing boat, a small one, that came in via Okinawa and Yokohama. And you were there, on that apartment block near the scaffolding, to throw this marble back to me when the scaffolding fell," Saguru held it up out of his pocket.

Casey's jaw was open. "And you're not a Reader, or something?"

Saguru grimaced. "I've always thought that psychic power gets in the way of clear thinking, rather than enhancing it. All the ability to see the future in the world won't make up for you not using your brain, young master Smoke."

"So what, you just guessed all that?" Casey replied, rolling his eyes.

"Deducted, not guessed," Saguru corrected sternly. "I could go into the study of accents, wool types, airport tags and paper and envelope types, but I get the impression we do not have time for parley. You were sent here because you need help with something, that's what I was told. Maybe your problem isn't one that a psychic can help you with, but maybe a detective can. I was told to help you and because I gave my word to someone very important to me, I will keep it. If you're a Watcher, you must have seen this future already."

The boy seemed on the verge of spitting out some epithet, but suddenly shook himself and sagged on the park bench. "You're a real asshole, you know that right? I mean, the last few weeks will never make my top ten lists, okay, so excuse me for being a bit pissed off that I have to ask for help from some stick-in-the-mud stranger. I just wanted to be sure you were the right one. You don't have get all snippy."

They stared at each other.

Casey broke first. "Okay, so here's the thing…er, you know about the Divisions, right? The psychic groups that kidnap and use psychics?"

Saguru nodded.

"Right, good….well, the thing is the London Division has been working on this drug…"

Saguru stiffened.

"…I'm not really sure what it is exactly; some of mum's friends called it a psychic steroid. The Division agents were trying to set up a deal about it in Hong Kong with Hong Kong's Division; but one of the London guys defected on them, and took the syringes as he ran. I guess he doesn't think much of their pension plan, because he tried to sell it instead…"

"And he was dealing in the alley beneath the scaffolding." Saguru rubbed a hand over his face.

"Right, exactly. I was there watching it happen. When the scaffolding fell I was able to get down to the street and grab the defector's carry case," the boy dug around in the voluminous duffel and withdrew a hard shelled, small carry case, rather like a businessman's overnight bag, and unclasped it. Inside was foam padding with three divots, which looked crudely cut by the streetlights, where the syringes had clearly lain. "But the syringes weren't in there." He dug around in the duffel again, this time drawing out a handful of papers; they were an odd collection, looked to be torn from different notebooks and pads, and covered with colourful scrawls. "Now, I know one was picked up by the coppers," he showed a paper, and on it was….the lines were rather crude, but it looked like a tall man set in jagged outlines, one huge, out of proportion hand reaching forward almost out of the picture holding a familiar, dark syringe. The face was distorted but the moustache looked familiar.

"Nakamori-keibu," Saguru muttered, taking the page for a closer look.

"There were two other syringes…and we have to find them." He shot Saguru a sideways look.

Saguru looked straight back. "Why do you need these drugs?" he watched the young Watcher carefully.

Casey shifted on the bench, his eyes darting. "I'm a second generation Watcher. The Division…has my mother," he slapped another paper down on the bench between them. This one was done in sharp, red lines; a long haired figure being taken into what look like a police car. "I need the stuff to get her back. The London Division will do anything to get these stupid syringes back, even give up their best Watcher. I'll make a deal with them for the drugs."

Saguru shook his head. "You should not be helping them further their cause."

"Always fight the good fight, right?" was the acid response. "Well there is no good fight here, Mr. Detective! Either I give them the drugs or my mother gets stuck in one of their basements forever! And that's not going to happen!"

"Calm down," Saguru held up a hand. He hated dealing with children, they were so irrational. "I meant, if this drug gets back to them won't it make it worse for you and your mother in the long run? I was only a young child when I was last involved with the Division, but what I do remember is their agents hunt down psychics using psychics; if this drug is a sort of mental steroid, wouldn't it therefore make them stronger and more dangerous? What would stop them from finding you and your mother after they get the drug back and use it?"

Casey wrinkled his nose, his eyes shifting again. "That probably won't be a problem. According to my mum's friends, the stuff doesn't actually work. In fact I think everyone they've tested it on has died."

Saguru frowned. His mind sparked, judging and weighing the facts, viewing the problem from different angles. If the drug was useless, and they were still looking to get it back... "They want to give it to rival Divisions," he breathed.

"Reduce the competition, yeah. At least, that's what they think. My mum's friends, I mean. The Londoners were trying to sell it in Hong Kong, only one of the agents took the case and legged it, didn't he?"

"Still," Saguru repeated. "Helping the London Division take out their eastern counterparts is only going to hurt people like you in the long run. It would be foolish to…"

"Look, my mum saw all this okay? How do you think I know most of this? I never saw it, but mum saw it all, she saw it all coming," Casey was on his feet, furious. "My mum would never help the Division; she told me this was the way it had to go, she told me right before they took her away." His fists clenched. "I watched them take her. She told me to let them; that this was the way it had to go. I mean, come on, it's not like we can go to the coppers, is it? That's a police car!" he jabbed a furious finger at the picture on the bench. "All they had to do was say she was mad, that she was unfit. Then she's gone and I'm in the hands of…ha! 'Social Workers'!" the boy's hands made sarcastic quotes in the air. "God, you're supposed to be smart! Why aren't you listening to me? I don't know exactly what's coming but mum does. I have to trust she knows what she's doing. And that means finding you, and finding the drug. That's what she said I had to do; I had to find her old friend's son and he would help. Only, it doesn't look like you're going to be much help!"

"I said I would help you, and I will help you," Saguru snapped, quelling the boy's outrage with a hard look. "But I need to know everything. I need to have all the information if my skills are going to be any use. It didn't seem to me like you were planning to tell me any of this; about your mother, about the drug deal, before I started asking questions. Am I wrong?"

Casey, breathing hard a fists clenched tight, looked away. "Don't know you. Can't trust you."

Saguru shrugged. "Well unfortunately for both of us, Casey-kun, you're going to have to take a leap of faith. If you can't tell me everything you know, then I can't help you. I may as well leave you here to deal with it yourself."

Casey looked up, white with fury. "You wouldn't! You asshole! You wouldn't dare!"

Saguru merely crossed his arms. He'd had some experience in interrogation, enough to know how to wait.

"Ha! You would," Casey spat. "You're a cold hearted bastard, you know that?"

Saguru shrugged off the criticism. "How important is this to you, Casey-kun? Will it be dangerous? I'm not stepping in the middle of this without at least knowing what to expect. If I'm putting my life and my career as a police officer on the line by covering up an illegal deal, aren't I at least owed that?"

Casey's mouth opened, and then shut again. "Alright, I sort of see where you're going." He conceded grudgingly. "Okay, I promise to tell you everything I know from now on, no secrets; but you have to promise to help me though, no matter what I tell you."

Saguru inclined his head. "Agreed. So?"

"So, you already know most of it by now. I blurted out most of it, didn't I?" Casey sat down again, rueful. "We have to find the other two syringes. The good news is, I know where to find them." He shuffled through his papers – a brief glance in the duffel revealed to Saguru that whatever space wasn't taken up by the drug case was full of a hodge podge of papers, pencils, pens and markers. He slapped another page down. "The guy running away shoved his take under a stack of …something on this street," he pointed to a simple picture, a road drawn with two lines coming together in the distance, bordered by faint, shadowy buildings and signs. Across the top of the road, a banner or gate post had kanji scrawling across it, the lines deep and dark like they'd been written over several times for emphasis.

"Chinoen Shopping District," Saguru read off the paper. "This isn't far from the gallery. Why didn't you stop there and pick them up?"

Casey had a sheepish look. "I can speak Japanese but I'm not so good at reading it. The Japanese are supposed to be clever – knowing two thousand characters just to read a paper? Who thought that was clever?"

Saguru sighed. "We'd best go and get the syringes tonight."

"Uh…yeah," Casey looked uncomfortable. "Well, we know where to look, that's the good news. There is also some pretty bad news."

"Which is?"

"Uh…the agents from the London Division? They really want their stuff back; otherwise the Hong Kong Division'll carve them into stir fry. They've sent agents here – three that I've seen." Casey held up yet another drawing, showing the three figures – but the lines were so blurred it was impossible to tell features. The young Watcher probably hadn't 'seen' the people clearly; it took time and experience, Saguru vaguely remembered, to really attune the mind to the visions and see anything with real clarity consistently. "They'll be looking for us."

Fantastic. Saguru stared into the distance, and felt that bore repeating out loud. "Fantastic."

"Er…that's the pretty bad news. You want the really bad news?"

Saguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "That would be helpful."

"There is a mafia….no, what's the word they use? Syndicate. There's a criminal syndicate in Hong Kong – the Chan family. They found out about the drug and tried to steal it in Hong Kong, so they could use it for themselves. That's why the defector ran here instead of just hiding in Hong Kong or going into the China mainland. Well…they're here as well. They're all psychic, but at least one of them is a Watcher too. They'll be going after the drug as we do. I guess they didn't read the list of side effects in the company flyer, because they don't seem to know it's deadly."

Saguru felt a headache coming on.

"Annnnd...then there's the worse news," Casey continued dismally.

Saguru rolled his eyes. "There's a highest wave in this ocean?"

"Yes. And it's a big one." Casey speared him with a look. "You said you'd help me, no matter what I told you."

Saguru nodded. "I did. I intend to keep my word."

Casey relaxed slightly. He dug around in his paper again. "I'm not a very good Watcher. Nowhere near as good as mum. But the future I'm seeing right now, if we travel down this road, is this," he held up a picture.

This one was absolutely full of colour. Out of the mess of lines and shapes, two faces were clearly visible. There were cartoon like X's where the eyes were. Over the top was written in English 'Me' and 'Other Guy'.

"We die."