Monday.
The air felt almost sickening in its stillness the next day. It felt almost as if something were missing, as if the birds' daily cries were silent.
But no, the detective's sleepy mind found, the birds were in perfect order. No, it was a hint of humanity's artificial sounds, of technology...
...then it hit him, hard, that Kaito hadn't called. For the first time in a relatively short time that seemed so much longer, his morning was not pierced with a wake-up ringtone. It felt almost too peaceful, like that "memory" of his from the heist.
Why did he still think of that? It was probably just a trick of his mind, a delusion brought on by blood loss. But then did that mean that he loved...? No, that wasn't true; he merely wanted to know who was behind the genius. Why did he want to unmask KID then? Why did his emotions now protest against that at all costs...?
To add to the ever-expanding pandemonium of sentiments, Kaito could not be found anywhere. His cell phone was off. Asking Nakamouri-san only produced a look and a muttered, "He's not here. He said so himself." Half-glimpses caught and chased disappeared within seconds.
Why? The logical, deducting part of his brain concluded that it had something to do with yesterday. What part of it though? Again, why?
Shinichi found himself in a bad mood. To add insult to injury, he unwillingly took company with an inexhaustible supply of conceited Tokyo police that day due to an unexpected murder.
All this while he was thinking... if Kaito wouldn't come and tell him what was wrong, then he would have to find out for himself...
...still, the detective found himself wondering why the magician didn't yet trust him.
.
.
.
The bus wait and its noisy plethora of sounds were antagonizing. They seemed to swirl into a deluge, bombarding his ears, indistinctly buzzing, buzzing, until...
..."Kudo-san!? What are you doing here?"
Front and center in the detective's field of vision was Hakuba Saguru.
"Hakuba-kun?"
"Hello. You wouldn't be going to visit Kaito, would you?"
"I am, probably the same as you."
"As expected of the Heisei Holmes. How disapointing it is, then, that you don't see why Kaito's dodging you. He practically fled when you told him you trusted him... almost as if he had a dirty little secret."
"Accusing him again is not going to help your reputation."
"Blindly trusting and biased investigations aren't going to help yours, either. I'm sure that you'll find out I'm right, in the end. Or could it be that you already knew it somewhere in your unconcious mind?"
"Well, I try to keep my mind open if my only source is someone with an obvious grudge. Kaito could pull of those tricks, that much is true, but it would absturd to think that no other youthful, Japanese national with plenty of creativity could not."
Even as he said that, Shinichi still felt something stir in agreement with Hakuba's statements. Why? The evidence was slim, yet something in him recognized it. Did it mean anything?
Hakuba led him through the suburbs with disturbing familiarity to the neighbours. Kaito's home provided a quintessential view of modern Japanese convenience had its windows not been so empty and the rest of it so still, unmodified for at least ten years if the weathering was any indication.
No one answered the door.
And roses fell dark as the sky was shouded with clouds.
Yes, this is late... I fell asleep twice while writing this last night. Reviews are like metaphorical flowers, you can never have too many~ (something based off of a quote from Mother Teresa... except you really can have too many children, that's what money and overpopulation are about).