From Zero Chapter 16, a detective conan/case closed fanfic

…

Kogoro held onto the wheel like onto his life. He knew that his comfort zone would not be taken into the smallest consideration, but—damn. He vowed to appreciate his normal life, his normal life in which he could live without the burden of the pursued on his shoulders. His palms sweated a lot—now, he had to concentrate. His had to swallow his nervousness to handle the unfamiliar environment and drive in accordance with the whims of the kid as his impromptu chauffeur.

Kudo. He sank behind the map on the prefecture. He could not watch him because he needed his attention on the road, but—he was calm, he could tell that much. He would never come to understand the mindset that allowed him control over the most primordial fears.

He had to watch out, and he did—however, he doubted that he would see black out there. He assumed that whoever was sent to dispose of them would be ordered to wear normal clothes. His mind flooded him with memories of the incident at the hospital, the incident that made the three of them escape and abandon the police to save themselves. He felt to be treacherous towards his old friends, insecure about his own capabilities and because of that, more and more reliant on the instructions that he was less and less enthusiastic to take. He knew, he knew he had to take them because he could not stand into this case alone in a millennium.

"Take the left turn at the next intersection."

So came the next instruction.

"And then, take the second exit at the roundabout."

He stepped on the brakes to slow down for the turn, then wheeled the vehicle into the street pointed out. He looked around to face the desolateness of the environment, which did raise questions. He drove down the street between the apartment blocks without a word, but—still. He could understand that their detective turned tactician wanted to unite forces, but should this continue, the three of them would leave the town. He could understand the intention, but—

"There are a number of routes one can take. I counted twelve possible ones from the train station alone, and in case of each, there are at least three or four additional intersections even in this town. You would think the premedication of the exact route one will choose from all those possibilities to be impossible, unless certain circumstances have a role in the decisions made. Akemi-san is smart, which means she made use of the intentions of her accomplice."

Ran popped into the conversation.

"His destination is not this town. He transits."

"Exactly. No matter how cautious route he took within the town, he would continue towards the prefectural capital. Hokkuku line leads in that direction alone, which means that to advance on him, she positioned herself there, in a location that he would inevitably pass by."

He steered into the mentioned roundabout and followed the instructions. His expectations were met when the urban environment started to weld into a rural one. A river appeared on the left and ran in the direction of the road. He looked at the direction-post and read—Hokkuku line.

Kudo folded the map.

"Ran, help me look for anyone suspicious."

Time, time! His heart dropped to his stomach. He needed more time to prepare himself, and now—no. He braced himself with determination and concentrated his full attention on his task as the kids watched out for their intended person. He assumed that without seclude places to observe the road from, she probably parked at the roadside under the excuse of technical error. He could look out for that too, that could not be that hard to spot when the car in question was a police car—no, not for sure. A police car would become a burden for a criminal as time passed. He would have swapped vehicles in her place, so she could be in another, unknown car.

His mind stopped as on the roadside he drove past, there was a—

"Shinichi, there—"

Kudo tsked.

He looked into the rear mirror with haste to confirm that he had indeed missed and what worse, he continued down a road without a chance to make a turnaround in miles. He had messed up, he knew—and nonono, he happened to see the reflection of stubbornness incarnate—

"Mouri-san, the brakes."

What—

Kudo steered the wheel to the side and, in that moment, he slammed the brakes on instinct. He remembered to have crashed into him and then, the interior of the car melted into a blur of colours within the palette of black, brown and blue and red and others that he had never know to have existed. His eardrums suffered from the screech of the tires on the asphalt and—he felt sick, sick to the stomach and he was about to puke and he was dead and he was he was—

…

"Dad, we have stopped. Dad—oh, come on—"

…

Shinichi flinched from the squall that almost carried him away as he set a foot on the asphalt. He noted the nice black scratch marks on the road behind, lined up in a neat manner. He focused his attention forwards to spite the scene, he focused his attention at the woman near the handrail, who watched the river with a sorrowful expression. His loud entrance did not slip past her attention, as she turned to face him, cold and prepared, and—woah, he stared down a barrel. He could not blame her. He would not have reacted otherwise with the syndicate out for his blood and a weapon at his disposal. He looked back at his companions—for now, stay back.

He lifted his arms in a leisure manner, to show that he was unarmed.

"I have no intention to harm you."

"I have no intention to believe you."

He was still in the path of a potential bullet.

"I know your situation, and can assure you that we are not syndicate assassins. I would not walk up to you in a conspicuous manner without a weapon in that case. I need you to calm down and listen to me. I want to save both you and your sister, and can do that." He noticed the hesitation, the small break in her façade. He could work around that, however, to convince someone who had spent their literal life in their clutches would be a hard task. "You are a victim of circumstance, a victim who had no choice. You deserve better, a life without their influence. I want to save you, however, to save you, your trust is needed. I need you to trust me."

He took a step towards her, to which she took one back.

"I hate empty promises. You have no idea how many people have approached me with the same promise when they learnt my story. You have no idea how many people have tried to deceive me. None of them had a real reason to save me, to save us, and neither do you."

"I need no reason."

He remembered that time, as he walked down that rain-washed stairs with his childhood friend in his arms. He remembered that sentence that made that childhood friend to fall in love with him, a sentence that shook anyone who was accustomed to the darker side of human nature to the core:

"To kill, people make up several reasons, but to save—there is no reason needed."

…

Akemi stopped in her slow retreat, her shock apparent.

…

"I know your situation. You are a child of scientists who were misled by the syndicate and were trapped for the rest of their short lives. You had to complete the orders of the people who killed your parents to avoid the same premature death. You hoped to escape them somehow, to live a normal life with your little sister, but that hope faltered when she turned out to be a talented chemist. Your sister became an important member of the syndicate, the head of research, which meant better survival chances, but less to escape. You wanted to ensure that you sister is safe first and foremost and because of that, you endured their rule over your life."

"…—I admit, you did your homework on me well."

"You wanted happiness for your sister, but you know what would happen should you fall to their hands. You know that she would never be happy in a world without her older sister. You are her lifeline in that dark hellhole. You know that she would not accept your death, not even from them."

He knew that she would not, did not accept that and even tried to commit suicide to spite them. He needed her to comprehend the consequences of her death, that how would the people who cared about her take the news of her demise. He needed to put the experiences of a previous world into sentences.

He stepped closer and placed a hand on the cold steel of the weapon.

"Moroboshi-san also wants to date you once you escape them—"

Her hold loosened as her mind tried to take in the implication.

"I never told anyone about that—"

"I know your situation, more than you do. I know a world where you died and the ones left behind lived the consequences of partly my own incompetence that led to that outcome. I endured the what that failure meant for others, for you sister, for your boyfriend. I know them on a personal level. I know you better than you know yourself, which can be weird as we have never met before. I know and hate those people, the syndicate more than anyone in this world now."

He noticed the tears in the eyes that locked on him in cold distention.

"You think you can trample into my life like that. You think you can exclaim that you know my sister and—him. You think you can exclaim that you know me. I have no idea where you learnt all that about me, but that is unimportant compared to the fact that you dare to introduce yourself as our friend! None of us have ever seen you! Not once have we ever seen the colour of you, and you now come and say that you know us! You insolent liar—"

He removed the weapon from her hands. He was slow, so as not to make her defensive instinct kick in, but when he noticed her panic, he decided to put it to the bonnet of her car within her reach: he did not want to control her, she could defend herself should she feel the need to.

He fetched his cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and—

…

Akemi did not want to believe her eyes. Her hands held the cell phone as she stared at the home number of her sister on the top of the call history. Her hands held evidence that this person had talked with her sister, a hard-to-reach member of the syndicate, no, her sister initiated the conversation. Her sister, who was paranoid to no end, who never trusted anyone over her, who lived in constant fear of the people around her, initiated a conversation with this random person.

Her life was miserable. Her life was filled with loneliness—she had a sister, but she never knew the outside world, the worth of a life, her ambitions. Her parents had been murdered and she had understood whereas her sister had been a child, a child in front of whom the concept of death was incomprehensible. Her mind flashed memories of the darkest hours, the deal for their lives, her first orders and her first kill and the taste of that iced coffee she drank with her sister as she explained with a tint of excitement that her poisons worked at almost hundred percent. Her sister took a twisted kind of pride in her work despite the flinch whenever someone approached her—

Her mind assured her that there would be a chance to escape and taste freedom, but no matter how much she waited, that chance never came. Her life turned into the worst mix of murder, threats, blackmail, exposedness and demoralisation. Her own self crumbled with each mission, with each time she responded to them and then—her heart bowed to one of them, and she was so, so relieved to learn that he was undercover, that she had fallen for a decent person.

Dai-kun. Dai-kun—

And she decided to carve a future for herself, searched for the chance to escape and she did not care that murder, threat, blackmail, exposedness and demoralisation was the price of her, their, freedom and still, her fell victim to the conmen and backstabbers who swindled her, sometimes on orders. Her dream was smashed into the dirt too many times, she was abandoned too many times, she was threatened to be revealed as a potential traitor and committed crimes to avoid that too many times, to preserve the slim chance her sister had to escape before their twisted ideals twisted her too much, until she realised that no matter with how much persistence, with how much faith she chased the silhouette of that man, that walked further from her until he became unreachable and disappeared in her hands that reached for him, for help—

…

All backstabbers stood conditions. He would do so, once he earned her trust.

"Akemi-san, there is no catch this time. Trust me." He said instead.

…

All backstabbers demanded compensation for the risk. He would do so, once he realises it.

"I ask for no compensation either. I am on their bad side myself, this risk is little to add on mine." He said instead.

…

All backstabbers approached her at first. He must have faked that phone call.

"You sister asked me to protect you, and will do so no matter what." He said instead—

…

Her knees crashed to the concrete roadside.

"Akemi-san, there are both good and bad people in the world. You had the misfortune to encounter the bad side, and never the good." He continued. "There are people who would never exploit your situation, people who honestly think that nobody deserves your fate, people who would topple them to rescue you."

Her tears flew down on her cheeks as her lips pinched into a thin line in her futile effort to keep them in. A part of her knew better than to let herself convinced by an assumed call that could have been faked, but on the other hand, she had craved for someone to say that to her. Nobody had ever bothered to be sympathetic with her dreams. Nobody had ever told her that there would be people to help her, no, those fakes always emphasized that she was alone and exposed and had no choice.

"Akemi-san—"

A new face appeared from behind the car, a familiar face and the memories returned. That detective who had tried to convince her to leave the syndicate at the bank, who trampled into one of their operations and risked his life to talk with her and—was here, and their pervious conversation flashed back, as he had mentioned to work on behalf of a person who could peak into the future. And there was one person who predicted and stopped countless crimes, who caused no little headache for the syndicate, who saved others because he could, because he knew their future, because he lived the future, whom the public called—

…

"I swear, each time the prophet is involved, things become more complicated."

That sentence summarized the impression of the task force members.

Matsumoto stood up. "In the past two days, several pieces of new information have fallen into our hands. A collaborative effort from the metropolitan police department could find and initiate a conversation with three of the four people called "Hirota Masami", however, no valuable information turned up. From that alone, we suspect that the intended person was the one who avoided us, the bank clerk, who assisted a robbery hours after the previous meeting."

"So, she was connected to a crime then. Yet the prophet did not mention that."

Matsumoto scratched his head. "His motivations are as mysterious as ever. The report on the incident says that the threat was contained by several local patrollers and two others who rushed to the scene from here as soon as the alarms went off. Those two were first division detective Sato Miwako, and task force member and private detective Mouri Kogoro. Sato reported that somehow, Mouri-san was locked into the first division office and she found him when she returned for her coat. When the alarms went off, he asked her to take him to the scene to check out the situation, and she complied the plan. He wanted to talk to someone, who was likely to be at the bank in question."

Odagiri frowned. "Was that person, by any means, Hirota Masami?"

"He never mentioned them by name, however, with context, that sounds plausible."

"So, did he find that person?"

"He did, and he did have a conversation with her. However, we have no idea what that conversation was about, as that happened while our source was in the middle of a tactical discussion with the patrollers on how to tackle the culprits. Whatever that conversation was about, it did little to influence the outcome, as the robbers escaped with the loot—well, it would be more accurate to say that one of the robbers dashed off with the loot, and the other two chased him."

"A fallout between partners in crime."

Matsumoto nodded. "More than likely. Mouri-san said little about his experience, but mentioned that he heard the culprits argue. It looks like one of them turned on the team, and used their escape vehicle, while the other two stole an unattended police car. He chased them in tandem with the police nevertheless, tried catch them and was about to apprehend them when—well, this part of the report is kind of a sketch. Sato, who drove, said they lost them in a secret tunnel, however, our detectives who were sent to the location to look into the matter were clueless. None of them found that supposed secret tunnel, but—Sato is not the type to lie on a report."

"A mysterious tunnel." Odagiri looked out the window. His watchful attention pasted the cityscape from above, with unmistakable concern for the people down there. "If one thinks about it seriously, there can be so many things nobody knows about in this world around us…"

Matsumoto understood the sentiment. "And that is not the end of our troubles. Haido Third Hospital suffered a leak, which was confirmed to have been a deliberate action committed to create mass panic. I suspect that the culprits are the same syndicate that set that island on fire. The deduction behind that is based on the fact that the two teens, who we have put under police protection for the duration of their medical care in that hospital, were reported to have disappeared after the incident. I, and the first division who were responsible for said police protection, think that the leak and the chaos that resulted in was a diversion to pull off their abduction."

Odagiri was troubled. "That is bad. Megure, tell us more about the casualties of the incident."

"Yes, sir. There were no deaths in the mass panic, but the number of casualties is still a cause for shame. The initial report included sixty wounded, which number rose to seventy-four in the end, out of which thirty-one are at another hospital and the rest had minor wounds that did not require constant medical attention. Most of them were allowed to return home." He flipped in his notebook. "However, there were also people who vanished amidst the chaos: five out of the seven reported people were found, which means that the only people whose current whereabouts are unknown are the two key people in the case: Kudo Shinichi and Mouri Ran."

"No." Matsumoto interrupted. "Mouri Kogoro, a member of our task force who was involved in the Hirota Masami case, is at an unknown location too. As he was an unlisted visitor, he was not included in those seven individuals, but he must have disappeared around then too."

"There is one more person nowhere to be found."

…

"Kuroda Hyoe."

The task force found the reason the discussion went without a hitch this time.

Matsumoto narrowed his eyes. "Indeed. I noticed his absence, but did not think that he has disappeared too. However, that would make too much sense, as there is no reason that person would miss this discussion with how much interest he had shown in the case previously. The question remains the same nonetheless: where are, exactly, these people. You think that the syndicate succeeded in their abduction? And if so, Kuroda-san and Mouri-san are involved too?"

…

"I doubt that is the case."

A new face popped up in the doorframe, with a familiar behind it.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Ninzaburo Keisuke, and this is my nephew Ninzaburo Shiratori. He is more well-known than me, as he is a detective and soon to be inspector of division one. My modesty is the secretary of the minister of internal affairs, Akiyama Ichirou. I apologise for the sudden intrusion."

Matsumoto looked at his superior. "Odagiri-san, you knew about this?"

"I did. I received a letter from the minister of internal affairs himself. He wrote that he was interested in the case and would like to have one of his men to supervise the task force. He mentioned how serious and how widespread the case was, that countless lives have been ruined or put into the line of fire, and decided that it should become a public security issue. I could not counter his reasons, and now that we have another incident our hands, his words have aged even better."

Keisuke took a seat. "Well, our attention is directed at the syndicate that stands behind all these incidents, so you call these acts of terror. We have been sceptical at first, but we have been led to believe that such a syndicate really does exist, and that is a reason for concern alone. Their characteristics make them a dangerous opponent to deal with, as they do not take civilian casualties into account and resort to murder without much consideration. That coupled with whatever ambitions they have requires the attention of all available law enforcement. So, you have to excuse my nephew here, who looked into classified papers without proper authorisation on my instructions."

Shiratori did not deny the accusation.

"I understand the sentiment, and we had no intention to sanction him." Odagiri clarified the situation. "However, no matter whether there are two more people in our midst or not when there are no clues to look at, well, unless the ministry has to offer information over its people."

"There is information that we can share." Keisuke said. "This case has been so far a puzzle with a person called the prophet and the syndicate as the most difficult pieces. You have been around since the start, chased after a phantom without a name and face, whose appearance came with the appearance of the syndicate, and while that was base to speculation, there was no evidence that connected that person to the syndicate in a direct manner. You have chased after this person and happened to stumble upon this case—however, that clear and convenient conclusion assumes that all members of the task force were completely honest with the others."

Matsumoto was shocked. "You say that there is traitor within us?!"

"I think that is a harsh word." Keisuke looked at the inspector, who was silent. "There is someone in the room, who is well aware of who the person in question is, as he visited the friend of this person on his house to inform him about their disappearance, when the friend opened up at the questions of my nephew, who was kind to share this important piece of information with me. This person has collaborated with the prophet from the start, earned a position in the task force to influence the deduction and withheld crucial information. He was not a traitor, per se, he stands on our side as the prophet himself does too, but he covered for the prophet nevertheless."

Matsumoto held his face. "No wonder we found next to no clues."

…

Odagiri faced the problem without a blink. "And, is this person here now?"

Keisuke shook his head. "No, he is one of the disappeared."

…

Matsumoto tapped his chin. "Kuroda-san is suspicious. I mean, because of his constant interruptions and speculations, our discussions were stranded on a point for several weeks. I would consider that an attempt to hinder our work, and that would work in favour of the prophet."

"No. Kuroda Hyoe is not the leak, in fact, he tried to draw attention to the actual one."

…

Matsumoto stopped when he realised.

"Wait, then—"

…

"Indeed. Kudo Shinichi."

…

"So, you are really the prophet?"

Akemi blurted out the question, but the answer was evident. Her attention shifted to the detective the accusation was dedicated to as the four of them drove down the narrow and sinuous mountain roads, who noticed the intent stare and folded the map for a minute.

"As far as the police is concerned, an accomplice." He said, his words addressed to the others as well. "I have received a text from the professor, which said that he was approached about the situation and decided that with the minister of internal affairs on the case, a couple of modifications were needed in the concept. He couldn't hide our involvement in this fiasco when the opposite is obvious, so he introduced me as a reckless detective who cooperated with a victim of the syndicate with invaluable information, the prophet, and stood into in the case. He kind of split me into two separate people and omitted the time travel part, but—he told the truth."

Her mind buzzed with the fact that the number one source of trouble for the syndicate was in one space with her, not to mention the—what, time travel. Her attentiveness did not allow her not to draw conclusions about the people around her, but in the hour that had passed since she was invited into their car—which the older detective rented under a fake name created from an alternate pronunciation of his name—she could not nail down what kind of person each of them was.

Her experience with people found the external appearance of the prophet to be a surprise. He was a teen who looked much, much older than what his appearance indicated. It was perhaps his confidence, his choice of words or incredible communication skills that were responsible for the deception, no, those qualities were no deception. Her sister trusted him to save them, and she started to believe that the teen with the immaculate suit and ice blue irises under the dark hair was capable of that. He looked capable to take the pressure head on. He looked capable to enter a dark world unseen to those on the streets, and what more, he looked capable to win.

Her eyes settled on the older detective. His appearance talked about a resident of a rundown apartment who waited for cases in the companionship of a can of drink. And while she could see him do that, she knew better than to assume that to be his entire personality. He had proved himself to be brave and determined to convince her to the other side before, and that was to be admired. And there was the woman on the backseat, next to her. A reasonable mind dictated that all people on the case had to be a detective or the likes to be useful, but that woman did not look like one. Her toned form indicated that she practised sport, martial arts even—

The older detective reacted to the explanation from before.

"But then what do they think the source to be?"

"I think at this point, everyone thinks that someone leaks information for me. And while the police will believe what the professor fed them, the syndicate is probably still convinced that the leak is someone of their ranks, after all, they know that there is no such a person like the theoretical prophet, who was held captive in one of their facilities and overheard crucial information, information that not even they have in certain cases, and lived to tell the tale."

The older detective scoffed. "A sketch, huh."

Her mind failed to comprehend the amount of information their casual discussions loaded on her, as if her presence could not bother them less. A part of her wanted to ask whether she was supposed to hear the conversation that followed the confirmation of her suspicions, not that she could understand much at all, but decided otherwise as she had learnt not to ask questions, but: how could it be that she learnt the deepest secrets of these people before even their names—

…

The older detective asked: "So, what is our destination now?"

The prophet looked outside. A couple of naked trees matted with fresh white melted into a blur of colours at both sides of their car, behind which laid mountains with snow-covered peaks. For urban people as them, the true winter the mountains presented as a ruthless and beautiful whole was an unparalleled experience. "No particular destination. Akemi-san was the first step, but we need more information to proceed and a place to hide until we come up with an exact course of action, and the mountains here are ideal for that purpose. A small settlement somewhere around here should do the trick for a while, which is, moment—"

He dived into the map.

"These mountains are beautiful in winter." The woman admired the nature in a cheerful mood unsuited for their situation, then turned to her on prompt. "Akemi-san, do you think—oh, we never even introduced ourselves. Mouri Ran is my name, and these two are my father and my childhood friend."

…

"I see."

…

Shinichi held his head in exasperation when he spotted the name printed on the map, the name that made him think about centipedes, historical armours, a famous phrase about war tactics and a couple of dead bodies—a bunch of uncomfortable mental pictures as visual clues to a serial murder that had been committed, correction, will be committed within that closed community. He counted the months on his hand—that was seven months into the future, so none of concern at the current point of time. He knew the culprit, he knew the motive, he knew the people involved and the means of their deaths and that none of them was involved in the syndicate.

"Ah, there are some houses over there."

Torada estate.

He remembered to be careful with his assumptions, but he felt comfortable to sleep in that house. His craziness that chose to be near a future serial killer was ridiculous, but then, he knew who to watch out for unlike in a house full of unknown people, where he would not have a moment of rest—he would appraise, observe, look for hidden malicious intention, a clue that the people around him were assailants. He preferred a known and predictable threat over a one that can happen, or can not. He could even manoeuvre his conversations and interests to undermine the chance of the murders happen this time—a beneficial situation for a detective like him.

He was about to notion their driver to pull over when—oh, there were people behind the fence, people who radiated clear upset even from that distance and bit off short conversations akin to whispers as a couple of them stepped outside. He forced his mind to recall the names.

Torada Yoshiro. Torada Naonobu. Torada Tatsue.

…

A touch of chill brushed to his skin as he lowered the window.

Yoshiro looked inside with a relieved expression. "Thank heaven."

He curtained the confusion with a warm smile and asked with an innocent voice: "What happened?"

"My wife found a dead body in our shed last night. I reported it to the police immediately, but the dispatcher said that due of the snowdrifts, it would take a couple of days for the forensics and the detectives to arrive to this remote place. You are awesome to have made it in a day nonetheless." Yoshiro was relieved to stack that burden from his own shoulders to his. He did not mind. "Here, I will show you the scene. When will the other detectives come?"

He blinked in confusion. He was mistaken for the police. He was about to make the situation clear, but realised that it worked well for him, even more so when another unexpected case was on the menu. He did not know of a murder around this time and that fact made him nervous, so he decided to look into the matter. He slapped a detective-like expression onto his teen face. He would have to reveal their identities later, but at that time, he would have the needed intel on his hands.

"Later. I heard that the forensics are unable to proceed for a while." He bluffed with casual ease. "I will take a look at corpse now, I hope that nobody approached the scene since it was discovered. You can collect the people who live in this estate in the meanwhile."

"Naturally."

Yoshiro rushed to act on his instructions.

…

He opened the door and his feet soon creaked in the fresh crisps of snow.

He looked at the old man, who leaned to the wheel. "Kudo. You know that to impersonate a police officer is a crime."

"Come on. I should be considered a member of the metropolitan police force after the near hundred cases marked as solved because of me." He waved off the concern, but returned to his seriousness in a moment. "Ran and old man, look out for anyone suspicious. Akemi-san, come with me. I have no previous information about this case, but there is a suspicion in the back of my mind that needs to be confirmed. I think you know what that is."

A moment was all the former crow needed to understand.

…

"I warn you, it is quite messy—"

A line of whiteness put the interior of the shed in question into better illumination. He peaked into the premise filled with a faint scent—not that prominent, perhaps due to the low temperature outside that slowed down the decomposition, his mind deducted. He directed his flashlamp where he suspected the corpse to be without a blink of hesitation and found the form of a person covered in splats of blood, with a facial expression captured in the moment of death. He took stock of the scene too—no clues about the characteristics or the whereabouts of the culprit, but there were some stuffs scrambled around, so there could have been a scuffle—

"Kenji."

Akemi breathed in a low voice. His suspicions were confirmed in that word.

He turned back. "Your wife was the one to discover the body, if my memory serves me. Could you mention her that there are some questions we would like to ask her in particular over the common protocol? You should wait inside with everyone else, we will join soon too."

He received a quick nod, and the distraction left.

…

"I take you knew the victim."

"Hirota Kenji." Akemi pulled the hood of her coat into her face. "He was the one who ran off with the stolen money after the bank heist. He never shared his true name with anyone, not even with the people he worked with. I suspected that was because he wanted to make a run for it as soon as possible."

"I see." He tapped his chin in contemplation. "I knew that this had to be connected with the syndicate at the time it was first mentioned. I knew of no cases that were supposed to happen in this area, so this has to be the consequence of the altered course of events. I considered the options—someone died, and that someone was connected to the syndicate. Besides me, the people the syndicate has a reason to kill is the team responsible for the failure at the bank heist. I have not seen anyone on that team besides you, which coupled with the fact that the syndicate had the time to react makes my deduction more than plausible."

"Hirota Akira was the third member of our team. His real name is unknown too." Akemi admitted. "He tried to catch this one and redeem himself in front of the syndicate to improve his chances at survival like me, no matter how improbable the success of that was. He was with me almost until the end, the two of us waited at the location where you found me. However, after hours of fruitless wait he said that this idiot was already dead and ran off to save himself."

He tsked.

"You have no idea where he can be, then."

"No. However—"

Her face slipped into the shadow of the hood. He noticed as her posture stiffened and her lips pinched into a thin, nervous line. He did not know whether that was at the realisation that another one of her acquaintances would meet the fate laid at their feet or she feared to meet that fate herself—no matter which was the case, he placed a hand to her shoulder. He would make sure that the latter never happened on his watch, the faint touch carried the comfort.

He moved towards the entrance before her first question could stop him.

"I will question the wife."

…

"I doubt her testimony would be of any worth."

"I doubt your doubts. Yui-san is a former cop, after all."

…

"I couldn't sleep. I laid on my futon wide awake and started into the darkness, that was when the sound of a silenced shot—I mean, a suspicious sound hit my ear. I went to find out what caused the sound and ran outside where it had come from. Hiro acted upset and, in the end, made me find a corpse in the shed." He listened to the former police detective recount the details and hide the fact that she was, in fact, a former police detective with more or less success. "I have no idea who the deceased is and have never seen him before. I have, unfortunately, not seen the culprit either, so there is no information about them to be used for incrimination."

Yoshiro placed a hand on her shoulder. "Fortunately. You were reckless to rush into that situation, Yui."

His hands were thankful to cradle the cup of hot coffee, the familiar scent of which instilled a kind of warmth and comfort into his cold self. He could see his own face, troubled with the case, reflect on the surface that wavered as he blew the hot token of hospitality.

He could feel that irritated intent in his back—the old man, who was thankful for the treat as well, but disapproved of their ruse as police detectives. For him, the police were sacred and untouchable, so the idea to masquerade as them without authorisation was the peak of disrespect. He understood and knew that his tactic was underhanded, but he needed information and he would earn information. His female companions did not mind the deception part of his plan that much.

He carried on. He hoped not to fall to hard because of his lies.

"Yui-san, was there anyone else in the house awake at that hour?"

"No. I woke my husband to tell him about the body. He called the police, and the rest of the family woke at the commotion. Nobody appeared to have the smallest clue about what happened, and nobody acted suspiciously ever since the corpse was discovered." Yui listed the facts. "I believe the murder must have been the work of an outsider, as none of us have met the victim before, and thus, none of us had a motive to commit his murder. I remember that the shed lock was busted too."

"If that is true, then an outsider is the most possible scenario."

He would have had doubts about their claim not to know the victim, however, his extra information and read of their nonverbals confirmed that to be accurate. He had an outsider on his hands, an assassin, who happened to corner their victim in the shed of this unfortunate family. He thus tried to make sure that his point that none of them were real suspects went across the people present. He needed their trust. He needed their trust to make them allow four random people into their household for a while, to make them talk about the murder, to earn the needed information, to establish communication and to outsmart the syndicate in the end.

He doubted that the syndicate would come back to the place where a victim of theirs was dumped, which was luck for their side. He received confirmation that this place was safe for a while, at least in terms of syndicate activity. However, he could not live in that obscure safety forever.

…

"In that case, there are suspects." Tatsue spoke up.

Yoshiro held his face. "Not that—"

"Tatsuo family—they have hated the us for decades, no, for centuries!" Tatsue preached that bullshit with full confidence. He knew she did not mean a word. He knew more about her than the present combined. "Those fiends could have killed someone and placed the body in our shed to cast the suspicion to us."

Yoshiro showed a peck of his frustration. "You have lost your sane mind to think that someone would kill a random person to frame someone else for murder, mother. Besides, that old tale of the hatred between the families is an old tale now. You old folks are the ones to hold onto it with such desperation while we have been friends with each other since our childhood. This has no connection to the case whatsoever, so stop this—the police have no reason to disturb them because you are idiots!"

"Yoshiro, watch your mouth! You should be thankful that we have—"

"You blackmail me with that all the time—"

Naonobu stepped between them, to which the situation appeared to deescalate.

"Ah, excuse this little scene. There are different opinions and views between family members too, time to time." Naonobu scratched his head. He wished he would drop the innocent act. He knew that biased as well. "That said, we should consider the potential role—"

He raised his hands in interruption. He needed to maintain the communication. "I will visit them tomorrow. No worries, it will be about a couple of short questions about the incident. No matter whether that family is involved in the incident or not, their testimonies will be needed for reference. As their estate is in the area from what was mentioned so far, some of them could have seen the culprit flee the scene in a car, for example. Any piece of information is invaluable in this dubious case."

…

Tatsue switched tone. "In that case, make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be in an hour."

He drank the last drops of coffee as he noticed the darkness outside.

…

"Ah, it is that late."

…

A bulk of a man stepped to the wet pavement under the faint illumination of the street lamps. He smoothed a couple of wrinkles on his suit and motioned the driver to leave. His steps resounded in the darkness that enveloped the urban environment. He walked towards his true workplace, which in an ironic sense, he visited at the rarest of occasions. His true occupation was a secret to his normal subordinates and his true identity was a secret to even his not-so-normal ones. He knew that his constant critique towards the prophet because of the countless lies and silence around his person, when he was the finest master of those deceptive tactics.

He stopped at a phone booth to inform the headquarters about his visit, when the faint creaks of shoes on the murk of snow melted with the filth of the roads hit his attentive ears. He wasted a moment to check out the source of the sound, and was relieved on the inside.

A person leaned to the phone booth.

"Kuroda-san."

"Kazami."

"Kudo Shinichi left the police protection." Kazami responded with a short report, voice low. "He left the police itself. He had no real choice in that matter, the hospital where he was admitted to was attacked. It appears that the syndicate outsmarted the police and obtained classified information. He was not safe there. He seems to move on his own. The police now believes that he is an accomplice of the prophet sent to observe them, but have no idea where he is."

"And what about us?"

"He is in this prefecture."

"He has done more than we did." He admitted. He could speak his true opinion about the prophet ever since the person appeared. "Kudo Shinichi. He is a teen, and has done more than the entire law enforcement has. He tried to warn us, to wake up the world before the catastrophe would hit. A war is on the horizon. A war that will decide the future, with his future prediction as the most important factor without a doubt. Find him as soon as possible."

Kazami noted his rant. "And about that matter—"

"Michitaka failed to contact me. Kazami—"

…

"I know."

…

Published: 25/07/2023

So, we know what that first small scene in chapter fifteen was. And the next characters to add into the mix are the three actually competent police in the show. And Akemi. I hope I could somewhat do justice to her character. Kuroda is mysterious as ever, and—well, you will see.

This and the next chapter are based on the "Fuurinkazan" case (ep. 516-517), in case someone does not remember it in much detail and wants reference. I think that this version will be understandable without a complete and flawless memory on that episode, and even derive from that at certain places. I share the source nevertheless.

Hoshi2050, Gamelover41592 and James Birdsong: thank you for the reviews. And Neyane too, even if you will read this a bit later.