Chapter 24
Forgiveness
A ghost lurked in the library. As the computer she worked on whirled silently. She could feel his gaze boring into her back. He was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore—black curly hair tied into a ponytail, olive green eyes piercing through, high sharp cheeks. Though not of Shiho's taste, Akemi had been enchanted by him. The man an uncomfortable reminder.
Shiho had always known him as Moroboshi Dai. Akemi had called him Dai-chan. Yet, in those few moments of panic, Shinichi had accidentally revealed a name. One that she had never heard before. An Akai Shuichi, a stranger that even her sister was unaware of. And the anger returns, forming an almost impenetrable barrier. The entity lingered, a ghost from a past she is still struggling to reconcile with.
In an effort to ignore the uncomfortable presence behind her, Shiho focused instead on the task at hand. Work that had been given by the corpse magnet—attracting bodies like the moon's gravitational pull to Earth.
A live news broadcast was shown on the screen. In front of Baihatsu's private mansion, reporters waited for the arrival of a billionaire who had no concern for public safety. A scoop so scandalous it could not be ignored.
"Baihatsu-san!" they cried as a bald-headed chubby egg-looking man appeared from within. He was dressed in a bathrobe. It was rather fancy, with the edges barely tied. He was barely holding it up, his stomach peeking out just slightly.
"Get lost!" he shrieked. His voice was hoarse and rough—unworthy of a man who owned 30 percent of Japan's food stocks.
"I wonder if he ate it," Shiho commented, and the ghost snorted. The phantom menace holding onto a phone that was playing the live feed of the supposed bomber simultaneously. There was no sign of the suspect at present. Instead, it showed the hostage struggling in a chair in an indistinguishable room, with a 30-minute timer counting down.
"Are you aware of the explosions in your park? Why aren't you closing it down?" The reporters persisted, and Genkei waved them away dismissively before heading back into the mansion. As expected, he fits the stereotype perfectly, and Shiho was mildly amused by his antics.
"So there we have it, Baihatsu Co-operation refusing to assume responsibility once again for the safety of others," the reporter said.
The scene changes, and this time the reporters were chasing after his son. Along with corruption charges, the deeds of their last scandals emerge. A carbon copy of his father, Hideo Baihatsu, is Genkei's son. Despite being a muscular and rather good-looking man, the man had a fiery temper and was pushing journalists away.
"I'll sue if I have to!" he shoved the camera so hard that it fell. An urgent news break replaced the interview, switching to Beika park, showing the destruction caused by another homemade pipe bomb. The sign representing Baihatsu's cooperation has been blown up. Shiho regarding the scene before pulling out the online articles about the Baihatsu Cooperation.
The articles written about them were not flattering. General news reports portray an almost unrelenting, cruel president who will do anything to crush the opposition. The advertising giant was still growing after acquiring several smaller entertainment companies. Having stocks not only in the media industry but also in real estate throughout Japan, it is no wonder that Genkei Bahihatsu is considered one of the world's wealthiest people.
And everyone knows that being rich means being above the law. A notion that Shiho could only scoff at—after all, the black organization was the same. Hidden deep within the shadows of the darkest depths. Perhaps, hell does not exist in the afterlife but rather within a world lusting after power and wealth.
"A motive," she studies the material.
Hideo Baihatsu, 45, heir to his father's throne. As the only son, he reigns supreme over his three sisters. Wealthy heiresses with their own hands in a dirty game. The family was embroiled in corruption scandals. From sleepovers with high-ranking politicians to drug deals with the mafia and even murder cover-ups. All acquitted. The family lawyer, a man by the name of Tanaka Yohei, was good, managing to bypass all aspects of the law itself. Money is often used to buy favors and sometimes loyalty from unsavory businesses.
Three years ago, Ryo Sakamoto was closing his restaurant. It was a humble Iyazaka, and it was late. Probably around three in the morning. He had been throwing out the garbage in an empty alleyway beside his shop. By the time his daughter found him, he was barely alive. Her attempts to save him were futile.
Following ten stabs in the chest, Ryo Sakamoto fought back—hard; however, he succumbed to his injuries.
"A horrible way to die," Akai stood behind her, and she flinched, startled by his almost phantom-like behavior. The aura he projected was cold and icy, reminding her of the days spent in that foreign house. Noticing her discomfort, he backed away and apologized softly, almost sheepishly.
"If I may," he approached her tentatively, pointing to the screen, gesturing to a woman standing beside Ryo Sakamoto's grave. "Shouldn't that raise some red flags?"
"You're raising more," Shiho quipped.
"Maybe," he muttered softly, and Shiho returned her attention to the screen, composing herself as she read. The woman in question had long chestnut-colored hair and ash-grey eyes carrying a storm. A quiet agony that penetrated deep. One which Shiho empathized with. She had lost someone important. She was—
"A daughter," Shiho puts down the papers and turned back to the computer to type in some keywords.
"Sunday Morning news, three years ago."
Wait a minute.
Shiho pulls up the episodes from the prime-time news.
The image appeared, and the FBI agent stood beside her, assessing the information.
"That is the agenda," he muttered. "However, the hostage seen in the video is not Hideo Baihatsu."
Hideo was a middle-aged man. The man in the video couldn't be older than thirty. Most likely, he was in his 20s. He had a youthful face filled with tears and fear. It was almost pathetic, and Shiho had to turn away again. The hostage triggered memories of people begging for their lives at gunpoint.
"If their intentions lie with the Baihatsu family, why attack a random guy?" Shiho voiced the man's opinions.
"William Blake's poem may provide the answer," Akai suggested. From the shelf just behind him, he produced a book.
"If we were to take the watermark and apply it to the last stanza. We can deduce what the hostage's fate would be," Akai glanced at the pitiful victim, who was sobbing loudly in the live feed.
"Outstretched beneath a tree," Shiho read from the collection.
"I was angry with my friend, I told my wrath, my wrath did end." He continued the first stanza, the poem starting with a phrase of forgiveness, of letting go—turning into something more. "I was angry with my foe; I told it not. My wrath did grow."
A secret hatred, buried deep, concealed—a deceitful lie. Fury bottled up, turning and churning, settling deep within the psyche, the darkness spreading until—
"And it grew both day and night, till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew it was mine."
"A play of characters," Shiho said as Akai closed the book and pondered the sentences. "The main character, a man who harbors a strong hatred, a friend and a foe—dualities of characters, same or different we would never know."
Akai paused the answer right at the edge.
"The hostage," Shiho realized.
When Akai looked at her, she spotted the almost trademark smirk that happened when they figured something out. Detectives tended to carry the same characteristics when it came to solving cases. An almost genetic trade.
"A friend turned foe, a hatred buried within."
Typing into his computer, Shiho pulls up a social media page. A name veiled in a tangle of a scandal.
"It's privated," she replied. Akai retrieved his phone.
Shiho gives him a disdainful look as he calls for Jodie. "Yes," Shiho catching a snippet of Akai's conversion. "I need the page. I know. It's extra work, but we need it."
The instructions emerging from his lips were along the lines of social media accounts and hacking.
"Figures," she scoffed. "You wouldn't have any qualms about invading people's privacy."
"No," he stated after a while. "Not when it comes to protecting innocent lives."
He was serious—almost too serious and Shiho paused, not having a rebuttal to his sincere statement.
"We will know the hostage's identity in an hour," Akai confirmed. "Let's inform the boy then."
"Good job, Shiho," he praised, hands reaching for her shoulder.
"Don't," Shiho snapped, and he paused mid-way. She hated it. She hated how he knew so much about her. She hated that he knew her sister as well. Detested the fact that her sister loved him and trusted him with her life. She hated when her sister talked about a future, promising a family—with him in it. Now, however, they stood two instead of three. Akemi buried six feet underground. Nobody could visit her grave. The organization keeping a close watch over it. Even in death, Akemi was monitored, lied to, and alone.
Tension builds between them, and Shiho averts her gaze. "I'll print the information."
"That will be helpful," Akai continued as she walked past him towards the printers.
"She's dead, Moroboshi Dai! Do you know why? Because you failed her!" Words she had told him came back to bite her. Although the answer lay deep within her, it was difficult to move on. The anger subsided, and all that was left—was sorrow.
She never blamed him. No.
There was just...no one else—
To hate.
"Shih—" he stops himself as she gathers the papers. His hand brushed along his neck nervously as he gestured towards the amusement park. "Let's go."
Shiho followed him, clutching the information tight. An ache spread across her chest as she regards the man.
A friend or a foe. Shiho could never tell. Their longing for someone they would never meet again created a chasm between them. They will never be able to meet in between. Even if he did not say so, she knows.
He blamed her as well.
They moved through the pavements, the library a short walk from Beika park. The Ferris wheel was getting closer. And then—
"Shiho!"
There was an unmistakable crack. It was accompanied by a loud bang. Heat raced through, and Shiho winced, finding herself pinned to the grass as a man shielded her with his body. She gasped as debris rained down on them. A shard of metal whizzed past, cutting the man's forehead. Blood flowed from a scratch.
Screams were heard, and people scattered around them. Slowly, the man got off her. "Are you ok?" he asked.
Shiho was unable to respond.
"Even at the cost of my life, I will protect you, princess."
She remembered his actions from a year ago as Okiya Subaru. Leaning against his red car, he looks at her with the same inexplicable expression.
"Why…why are you doing this?"
Light green eyes pierced deep.
"Because I promised."
His eyes held the same emptiness she carried. It was like looking into a mirror, a reflection staring back, speaking of a loss so significant it took every ounce of energy to get up and function for another day.
A strange lump formed in her throat as unbearable grief seized her.
"Ai-chan?" a nostalgic voice from the grave. Shiho and Akai froze in their tracks as a raven-haired beauty approached them in concern.
Akemi?
"Ran-san?"
"Any luck?" Shinichi observes the man seated in the back of the ambulance. The wound he had received from the blast before was taped up by an on-site nurse.
"It's as far as I can get," he shrugged.
Shinichi chuckled lightly, settling beside the man. The answer to his question sat with Ran just a few meters away. His childhood friend seemed to be locked in deep conversation with an auburn-haired scientist. Shinichi had no idea what was being discussed, but if he were to guess—
"What were you doing here anyway?" Shinichi asked as the man lit a cigar, much to the nurse's disgust. Taking a whiff, Shinichi realized that Akai probably smokes to relax. His stiff demur dissipated, and he leaned against the ambulance door.
"I had a gut feeling something might happen."
"So, like any creepy stalker, you decided to follow her."
The nickname made Akai squirm. "I'd prefer a bodyguard."
"Using binoculars does not help either."
"Spare me the details."
"Paranoid and mysterious, what are you? The Batman? "
Akai waved away Shinichi's statement with the cigar, causing him to choke slightly. Shinichi's eyes sting from the arid scent. "As I recall, Jodie-Sensei gave very sound advice on communicating your feelings," he suggested.
Brows twitching, Akai raised a hand, his stoic expression changing to one of irritation. "I will handle this in my own way. Besides, I think this will suffice for the day. Let's concentrate on the case, for now."
Akai handed Shinichi the information Haibara had printed. The papers were a little crumpled from the blast. As Shinichi contemplated the report, he could only frown at its inference.
"This isn't good."
Akai nodded, inhaling another whiff of smoke.
"A sad diabolical case, one that would not end well," the agent agreed.
"Not while that conversation is continuing," Shinichi gestures at Satou-san, who was screaming into the phone.
"I do not understand! Why can't we evacuate the park!?" the woman, irate. High-ranking leadership was bombarded and threatened by the Baihatsu Cooperation. Money always seems to prevail in the end.
"There have been four explosions! Three in this park alone, not counting the one near the police station. Reputation doesn't matter now, chief!"
"Politics," Akai observed, "a power play of sorts. Take one, give one. A pat on the back or two can go a long way."
"A deal with the devil, you mean," Shinichi murmured, and Akai smirked in disgust. "Maybe. It depends on who you are bargaining with."
"There are people stuck in the Ferris wheel!" Satou-san shouted as Takagi scurried around her, trying to calm her down. It was like witnessing a volcanic eruption. "The last blast destroyed the electricity box for the ride! There are children, I might add. Now, I want you to put your brain to use and tell me what could happen in such a situation!"
Shinichi looks back at the live feed. The culprit in a ski mask talks animatedly to the audience tuning it. Images of carnage are seen from above. Since the last explosion, the timer has disappeared.
"Are you seeing the crowds around the park? People do seem to love running into danger, don't they? And the narrative will always be controlled by the big players," the suspect continued, the casual tone fading. Banging his hand against the screen, the culprit screamed almost incoherently.
"Bribery, corruption, and monsters slumbering in human skins! Don't you think it's unfair that a man with money can get away with it all? Trampling over the lives of those who worked all their lives! And for what? Wealth? Notoriety? Prestige?"
"Look! Here is your pathetic answer," The culprit extends the live video footage of the park. Filming the people walking through the carnage as rides continued to function despite the explosions. Showing the police officers standing idly by while lives were in danger.
"Even now, they continue to do nothing! Nothing?! Why? Because they're controlled, that's why? The law had never been about justice!"
The suspect banged the camera once more, and the audience went wild. Among them were supporters of the tirade, while others mocked it and insulted it. Within it all, the culprit laughs—a telling sign of how the whole affair will end.
The hostage appears on a split-screen alongside the suspect. He sits limply in his chair. His eyes filled with regret, almost as if he knows what he has done.
That he deserved it.
"We know the culprit," Shinichi shared a glance with the agent. "And we know who the hostage is, but do we dare ask where the suspect resides?"
"I believe you have already figured it out," Akai smirked. "Besides," the man presented Shinichi with the information he obtained. "We've got everything we need."
Shinichi whistled. The FBI once again demonstrated its hacking prowess.
"Those sons of bitches!" Satou slams her phone to the ground. Takagi gasped in dismay at the cracked screen. "Satou-san!" he chided the woman as she marched over, glaring at them.
"Have you solved it?" she demanded. Shinichi recoils from the fierce aura surrounding the woman.
"You're scaring them!" Takagi nagged.
"Yes, we did," Shinichi offered tentatively, and the woman grasped him by the wrist. "So what are we waiting for?" she exclaimed. "Let's end this now!"
"Ai-chan," the raven-haired girl said carefully. Shiho typed furiously into the laptop Shinichi had just handed her. Police asset, no doubt.
"Can I assist in any way?" Ran stared at the pictures Shiho was compiling.
"No," Shiho, irritated with a shrunken detective's last-minute work, thrust onto her. She wanted to smack him, but that would have to wait. After all, there was a time limit, and he needed it quickly.
"Oh," Shiho noticed the nervous smile on the girl's face. And she sighs, gesturing at the files in front of her. "Perhaps you could help me with that," she muttered, and the girl beams.
"Alphabetically?"
"Sure," Shiho smiled as the girl got to it. She had arrived half an hour earlier to help Shiho with Akai Shuichi, who was bleeding profusely from the head. Satou-san was furious, whipping out the phone to make some calls. It appears that her pleas were ignored, and once again, Baihatsu's cooperation determined the narrative. The park would not be evacuated. Even though there had been three explosions, the fair was still bustling with people. Onlookers, social media fanatics, and influences from all over Japan gathered to take photos of the burnt and tattered crime scene. In a way, Shiho could understand why the suspect was gaining sympathy. The speech he made reflected the current state of a corrupt society.
Photos and evidence she was assembling into a video, revealing more about the suspect. This—was a desperate attempt to be heard.
"Ai-chan, may I ask?" Ran nervously, flipping through the case notes. "How do you know that man? And who exactly is he?"
It was an odd question to ask—almost as if the raven-haired beauty had met Akai Shuichi before.
Her dead sister's boyfriend? The man she was unable to speak to? An awkward, misunderstood soul? Shiho couldn't decide. The man is an entity too complicated to label, so she opted for a straightforward answer.
"Akai Shuichi, an FBI agent," Shiho ignored Ran's inquiring gaze as she returned to her work.
"An FBI agent, huh," Ran contemplated her answer. They descended into silence—and Shiho noticed Ran's hesitation. Eventually, the questions bubbled to the surface, the girl unable to hold them back.
"Were the two of you...fighting?" The girl, perceptive to subtle emotional clues, had noticed their awkwardness.
"No," Shiho muttered.
"An old flame?" Ran mused with a teasing glint.
Shiho almost dropped the laptop.
"No," she denied vehemently.
"He's not an old flame," Shiho sneered, slamming her fingers on the keys, "in fact, he's far from it."
"Really, from the way you two were looking at each other, I would've thought."
Shiho lets out a bitter laugh. "He's my sister's crush. She gushed about him so frequently that I had to stop her whenever the topic arose. He was a man who had promised to protect her. And now she's—" she stopped, realizing the almost venomous tone she was taking. Eyes widening in shock, Ran cups a hand over her mouth, and Shiho could see the horror settling in.
"Sorry," Ran whispered.
"It's alright—you didn't know," Shiho returned to her work. "It's not your fault, so don't dwell over it."
"Ai-chan..." Tension forms between them as they lapse into silence. Shiho growing slightly guilty for losing her cool with the girl who had shown her nothing but kindness.
"So, what are you making?" Ran changes the subject. The raven-haired girl draws closer, studying the recording she was creating.
"A presentation," Shiho explained, "For the suspect. Apparently, it's important to include these," she pointed to the pictures on the screen.
"Is that a picture of the Baihatsu cooperation president and son?"
Shinichi's instructions are a mix of hurried haste and excitement. The boy practically gushing when he reiterated the case.
"That idiot won't tell me what it's for, so don't expect to get answers. We'll never be able to figure out what's going on in his little head," she fumed.
Ran giggled at her response. "Ai-chan, you say that, but you're always there to help him."
"That's ludicrous," Shiho paused at the knowing look on the girl's face. Turning away as her ears grew a little hot.
"You're not very honest, aren't you?" Ran chuckled as Shiho snorted.
"I guess that's why," Ran faced her. Blue eyes waver as Shiho watches her inquiringly.
"Ran-san?"
"I know it's not my place to say this, but your sister wouldn't have wanted this."
"What are you getting at?" Shiho asked as the girl grabbed her hand.
"Akemi would have wanted the two of you to talk." Ran was strangely determined.
"It's not so simple,'" Shiho whispered. "I have killed the woman he loves, and in return, he has caused my sister to become a target of this organization. An eye for an eye, really."
"He shielded you from the blast," Ran cuts through her harsh words. "If he thought that way, he wouldn't have done that."
"He's an FBI agent," Shiho ignores Ran, "He's trained in that regard."
"Now you're just being stubborn, Ai-chan."
Clenching her fist, Shiho felt the sting spread through her chest. "We failed her." She examined the screen intently. "She was not meant to be a part of our world, yet we dragged her into it."
"She would have discovered the truth anyway."
"Yes, but-"
"Ai-chan," Ran interrupts, her eyes carrying a quiet purpose. A resolve that reminded Shiho of—
Akemi.
"She would have wanted to know, wanted to be involved in it," Ran's eyes softened as she looked at Shiho. "Akemi knew the risk. She knew what would happen. She wasn't naive or ignorant of the dangers, and I sincerely believe she wouldn't have regretted any of it."
The girl tightened her grip.
"Akemi-san wouldn't have blamed you guys."
"How could you know that?"
"Because from what I've seen, Ai-chan, your sister probably loved the two of you very, very much."
Blue eyes stared at hers, carrying a gentleness that made her pause.
For a moment, Shiho recalls her sister. All her quirks, habits, and laughter. Recollections— untainted by her sudden and unbearable death.
Of burnt cakes and food. Of favorite movies and pet frogs. Tears and laughter, stories told, her name repeated. "Shiho," Akemi would greet—with a warm smile, embracing her in a tight hug.
"Mo, he's always late!" Akemi had pouted as they sat outside the cafe they frequented, waiting for a man who Akemi had gushed over. If Shiho had been honest, she had been jealous. Peeved that her own flesh and blood had been taken by a man she did not know. All Shiho got was a name—a Moroboshi Dai. They waited for hours, but the man never showed. A text citing work that had gone over time was issued, and the meeting was canceled with an apology.
"Maybe he's breaking up with you," Shiho said spitefully as her sister chastised her. Looking back now, it had been a cruel thing to say. Akemi had been sad, but like always—she never blamed her.
And neither—him.
"Well, I guess we will have to meet him next time, Shiho."
It was a testament to a woman who was too forgiving and understanding for her own good.
"Ai-chan, you have to try," Ran nudges her, "He's trying, too."
Perhaps. In his own awkward way. The stews he brought when he was impersonating Okiya Subaru. The times when he tried communicating or when he intervened in dangerous situations. He had been taking the steps; Shiho just never gave him the chance.
"Fine," she gave in as Ran smiled.
They continued working, and eventually, Shiho finished the task.
"It's done?"
"Yes," Shiho said.
"Oh, finally, I thought it would never end. If we don't hurry, we won't get back in time for your party—" she gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.
"Party?"
"Oh no," Ran whined.
Suddenly it made sense. The haphazard way Shinichi had led her out of the house. The secretive meetings taking place between the professor and him in the coming days. The children's excitement whenever they talk about "tomorrow."
"You didn't hear it from me!" Ran jogged ahead. "Let's go!"
What did I do to deserve them?
"Idiots," she whispered as a smile graced her lips.
The area was swamped with news crews. The explosions that took place thrice on the same day in Beika Park in a temporary amusement fair owned by the Baihatsu Cooperation seemed to have garnered enough traction.
It was evening now, the sun just setting over the horizon. Orange hues spread across the skies, coupled with a few purple clouds. Shinichi ignored his ringing phone, dreading the scolding he would receive from the children later. They were late for Haibara's birthday party, but there were urgent matters to attend to.
"How did it go?" Shinichi asked Akai, who had just ended a call with Jodie.
"Just as you suspected," he remarked, "a childhood friend, likely the catalyst."
"So, the hostage," Shinichi confirmed. Akai nodded while still smoking his cigar, sitting on the stool and resting his elbows on the round stone table. They were in a pavilion on the edge of the park, looking out over Beika Lake. The commotion within the fair did not make them feel at ease, especially with cameras involved. Prime time news was something Shinichi did not want to end up in.
They could view the rides from here and the infamous Ferris wheel that was no longer in operation. The patrons were still stuck inside. Repairing the electrical box would take time. "Around forty minutes," Satou-san confirmed. A walkie-talkie provided allowed the inspector to communicate with them.
The inspectors were in the thick of the action—below the Ferris wheel itself. Shinichi could hear the avalanche of news reporters mingling and jostling for her attention as she trudged through the park. "Get off!" she shouted, fighting with the pesky media before questioning his plan. "Conan-kun, are you sure?"
"Yes, we need to be ready. Besides, I don't think we have much time left."
"Well, let's hope this plan of yours works," Shiho quipped.
"Plan?" Ran enters the pavilion. She was not wearing her blue sweater anymore. It was draped over Haibara instead. A dark blue hood covers the auburn hair of the scientist. "Turning into a circus," Shiho grumbled as she placed the laptop she was carrying on the table.
"It's to be expected," Shinichi chuckled.
"There were three explosions, and our suspect doesn't appear to be slowing down anytime soon," Akai added.
Ran and Haibara paused regarding the man.
His childhood friend bowed first, greeting him with a tentative smile, which he returned in his own awkward manner.
"How is the wound," it was Haibara's question that stunned them. The man remained locked in place. Ash, from his cigar, fell to the table. Shinichi nudged him, and he coughed, choking on the smoke.
"It's fine," he answered stiffly as if speaking to a cat that might run if he made any sudden movements. Haibara averts her gaze, pushing the laptop towards Shinichi. "Finish this," she said, "I've set up the account. The chat and camera should work if anything—"
She was avoiding the situation deliberately, perhaps too embarrassed by the question she had just asked. The man did the same, taking a second whiff of the cigar. Shinichi looked to Ran for help, and she shook her head. "Don't force it," she mouths. He sighed, opening the laptop to reveal the live feed that was still happening.
The feed was split into two screens now, with the suspect playing the hostage video beside his own. Comments ran continuously by the side. The viewers half excited and scared of what is to come.
"It's been three hours, and still nothing has been done? Despite the clues I gave. How stupid can they get?" The suspect taunted, static resonating through the video. At that moment, the background filter became blurry. It revealed a sunlit cabin before disappearing again into a green bamboo filter. The chat broke out again.
"It doesn't matter what you guys think," the culprit shouted, "It doesn't matter what happens—what matters is that you know. May your eyes be opened to the unfairness and injustice of the system!"
"And," he whirls around, motioning to the hostage's screen beside him. "There are no choices. Not for you or me."
Akai donning a Kamen Yaiba mask. "Ready?" Shinichi asked, and the man nodded.
"Shinichi?"
Studying the comment box, Shinichi is unsure where to begin. His task now was to get the culprit's attention. However, with a million comments flying by–it was difficult to find the right moment. The auburn-haired scientist sighed, pushing him away as she takes up the keyboard.
"Haibara?"
"It is your plan to hold a video conference with the suspect, right?"
"Yes," Shinichi responded. Haibara cracked her fingers with malicious intent. "Let me show you," she told Shinichi, who narrowed his gaze, "How to be a troll."
Dumb_Detective202: Hey, aspiring terrorist.
"Are you serious? You chose that name for our account?" Shinichi chided in disbelief.
"It was the thing that wasn't taken," she made an excuse.
"That's a bit mean, Ai-chan," Ran commented.
Dumb_Detective202: Do you really think your silly little plans will work? The Baihatsu cooperation owes you nothing. This is the way the world works. People like you are merely weak.
"Haibara, how can this possibly attract their attention?"
She ignored him.
Dumb_Detective202:If you think this would change anything, think again. The world is such that you would never win. Even if your plan were to blow up that pathetic man, you call a hostage. There would be no escape.
A grin spreads across Shinichi's face as he looks at Haibara.
Dumb_Detective202: A fruitless effort, worthless by nature. Are you going to kill yourself? William Blake? What are you? One of those wannabe poets? Do you really think you have a sophisticated plan? You're pathetic excuse to take down the system would only be buried under the Sunday news just like your fathe-
Haibara stopped, knowing that she would be going too far if she continued.
"He took it," Ran whispered. The suspect stared blankly at the screen for a moment. The insults Haibara had hurled at the culprit caught his attention. "I see," he whispered, "we have a detective here, someone who thinks he knows me very well. Who thinks the system works for them," he spat. "Who thinks this is acceptable!"
Dumb_Detective202: So, we got your attention?
"Oh, not just a detective, but an attention monger?" the suspect snapped. "Look," they continued, displaying their username on the screen, showing their audience their conversation.
"This is the condition of the world we live in. Even when something dangerous occurs, all they can think about is getting clout."
Dumb_Detective202: I'd just like to talk in a private video chat.
The suspect laughed hysterically, bending their head back and slamming their hands on their knees. "A talk?" they asked. "In a private chat? Why should I spare any time for you? Just who the hell are you?"
Shinichi took hold of Haibara's shoulder, giving her a wry smile. She relents, giving him the seat. "Now, let me show you how to negotiate," he teased as she rolled her eyes.
Dumb_Detective202: Akari Sakamoto.
The silence was deafening.
Dumb_Detective202: It appears I'm right.
Her name was plastered across the screen.
Dumb_Detective202: Pardon my rude behavior. I had no other way to get your attention. It was the only way for us to communicate.
The suspect snorted, regaining his composure. "Rubbish, do you believe that I can be identified by sprouting random names? I can assure you it does not work that way, wannabe detective!"
"Wannabe detective, they say," Haibara teased.
"A talented one, you mean," Shinichi murmured.
"I concur," she corrected, and he frowned, "Dumb detective."
"You guys..." Ran sighed, as Shinichi continued to type.
Dumb_Detective202: I'm fairly confident that I've got it right. The daughter of Ryo Sakamoto, who was murdered as a result of the Baihatsu cooperation. Three years ago, the case was a huge media fiasco. However, recently, the case was dropped by the courts.
The chat was still growing crazy, the name well-known in some circles. After all, former weather girls who appeared on primetime television on Sunday mornings were hard to forget. Particularly if they were exceptionally pretty.
It was the mention of Ryo Sakamoto that made the difference.
"What do you want?"
Losing any form of mirth or excitement. Exuberance is lost from the tone.
Dumb_Detective202:I just want to talk, Sakamoto-san, a truce, you might say. I know what you have experienced has been difficult, and what you have gone through is unfair and unjust. I just want to help. So, could we arrange a private video call?
"No," her name revealed, the pretense gone. There was no going back. Taking the place of the voice changer was a soft and mature woman's voice. The ski mask was removed to reveal short brown curly hair. Her rosy cheeks were covered in freckles, and her tired grayish eyes stared back. In the video, seated was Akari Sakamoto, a retired weatherwoman.
"How is that possible? Akari Sakamoto? What!?" The chat going berserk.
"No, we will talk here. The plan will go forward as planned. So say your piece," Akari leaned against a door.
Seeing the blood smeared across her cheek, Shinichi realized they were running out of time. Her lips were pale, and Shinichi was concerned. She was bleeding—and if he was right.
Ran gasped.
Habara winced, clutching her scarred wrist.
She had used the same method.
"Akai."
The man faced the laptop camera. His video appears on Akari's live stream.
"A mask?" Akari scoffed, "Not going to reveal your identity?"
"I prefer to remain anonymous," Akai replied, "I'm rather shy, you see."
Laughing maniacally, Akari adjusted the feed. "Well, go ahead. I don't have all day."
"This is not the way to end things, Sakamoto-san?"
"End what? You think you know my schemes, dumb detective. You know nothing."
"Ok, that's a horrible username," Shinichi whispered disgruntledly as Haibara shrugged.
"You're right, I can't say I understand what you're going through, but I can try," Akai's voice was deep, almost soothing, and the woman on the screen glared back at him.
"No matter how careful you are, Sakamoto-san," Akai continued, "there may still be traces on the internet. Searches on how to make homemade bombs will result in the system detecting your activities."
"Is that all?" the woman scoffed.
"You made bombs to disable, not kill," Akai points out. "Despite everything, you had no intention of hurting anybody else."
She snorted.
"I made bombs to destroy. I don't care what happens next."
"There was a purpose behind it," Akai said, and she waved him away.
"Just speculation."
"It was to draw attention to the issues at hand. Blowing up the police station sign, you wanted to show their incompetence. As for the park, well, you wanted to bring Baihatsu Cooperation to the spotlight. In a way, you succeeded, Sakamoto-san. Their public reputation is dropping every second the park continues to operate."
The woman's expression was darkening. It would seem they had gotten it right. The deduction had hit a nerve.
"It's not over," the woman whispered, her tone turning sinister. "It isn't enough."
"It isn't," Akai reached for the mouse. "Doing this would change nothing."
The woman hits the wall, causing the screen to shake. "I do not care, I—"
"You were a young reporter, just 23 years old," Akai cut her off before she could finish. The woman was stunned by the information he was revealing, "you had the career any person would have aspired to. You graduated with honors, even topping your class. The education you had, bestowed upon you by a father who worked very hard to ensure your future."
"Do not mention him!" she seethes, and Shinichi spots it. Her rage tempered with regret. Her desperation—evident.
"We have to. It's why we're here. Your father would not have wanted this."
"What my father wants does not matter!" she snapped, "He is dead! Murdered!"
"Yes," Akai glanced at the data Haibara gathered in the library. "Three years earlier, he had been stabbed and left to die by contract killers hired by Hideo Baihatsu."
Akai clicks on the photos Haibara had prepared. Images that Jodie-sensei had hacked from Baihatsu Cooperation, utilizing FBI expertise. He broadcast it live. Akari trembled as she traced the pictures of Hideo Baihatsu handing money to a couple of men.
Men who were wanted by the PSB and the Japanese police. Renowned contract killers that were already in custody.
"Though he was guilty of the crime. Hideo Baihatsu was acquitted, and the courts were paid off."
"How did you get these?"
"You had information," Akai ignores her question, "Information about a scandal, a corruption going on in the company itself. Information that could make a career."
The woman was in disarray, her face filled with regret. "Perhaps in your excitement or joy, you mentioned it to your father and a friend."
"He was no friend!" Akari's wrath burst free. Bloodshot eyes glistened with angry tears. "Friends don't steal, they don't lie, and they certainly wouldn't—"
She struggled to continue, closing her eyes tightly.
"Yes," Akai replied softly, "He was your childhood friend, and you believed in him. You trusted him. Daiki Suzuki pretended to be happy for you. But—"
"He needed money!" she spat out. The hostage recoiled in shame. "He told Hideo Baihatsu everything!"
Furious, she stood up, the video shaking again.
And Shinichi looked to the horizon, towards the park and a Ferris wheel locked in place.
"A friend turned foe indeed," Akai continued, trying to stall time. The woman laughing, the sadness running deep.
"Would you like to know what they did to me?" she hits the window, and the background filters disappear. The cabin she was in bath in deep scarlet, of a bleeding sunset, staining the ground red.
"The Ferris wheel," Haibara realized. "...that explains the shadows...the 30-minute intervals before."
"It syncs with the rotation of the Ferris wheel. She couldn't film when the cabin was on ground level. It would be too suspicious. So while the cabin was at eye level, she uses the hostage video in her live feed as a distraction," Shinichi elaborated.
"And when she was in the air, she resumed activities as the culprit," Haibara concluded. Shinichi nodded grimly.
"So, the reason for the missing timer?"
"She's at the top," he pointed to the Ferris wheel. "It was the reason why she placed her last bomb in the electrical box of the Ferris wheel. To stop the ride. That way, no one could reach or stop her. We're running out of time."
"She's going to bleed out," Ran warns.
"Exactly."
"We grew up together," Akari slams the seats again as angry tears roll furiously down her cheeks. "We were like siblings. My father practically raised him! He was happy for me. He even got me a job! How could you, Daiki!" she screamed, blaming the man in the video.
In her frantic state, she held a trigger, a button. Shinichi recognized it.
"You might not know this, Daiki," Akari spat, "but Otou-san was alive when I found him. And when I asked for a name, he hesitated. After everything, he was still protecting!"
"I'm sorry, so sorry."
Daiki was desperately trying to win her forgiveness. But it was too late. The damage was too profound, the betrayal a cutting wound. Her wrath watered deeply in tears, and she swore revenge. Nothing he said could curb her.
"That's not the way Sakamoto-san, and you know it," Akai interrupts. "Revenge. It's not going to achieve what you want."
"What I want is for him to die!" she screamed, "Do you think I'm dumb enough to believe a ruse such as this will change anything?"
Waving the trigger furiously at Akai, she smirked bitterly. "In the end, nothing would happen," Akari whispered. "No justice would be served. The Baihatsu Family could have fired a gun before the judge and still walk scot-free!"
"I fought. For justice, I sold everything, our house, my parent's restaurant...our lives. He might be just a stranger, but he was my father. He was the only one who loved—" Akari sobbed as she cupped her lips, slumping against the walls of the Ferris wheel cabin.
Her sorrow was shown live, garnering sympathy from the viewers, who, in overwhelming numbers, urged her to stop—to halt the plans.
Positive responses outweigh negative ones. Encouragement floods in. But she didn't notice it, her rage blinding her. "They fired me," she whispered weakly, sinking to her knees. "They let me go, and I was rejected when I tried for other positions. I was evicted from my apartment. They said I should drop the case, stop spewing nonsense."
"Nonsense, they say. My father's death meant nothing to them."
"It's too late. It's over," Akari raised the trigger.
"No! NO!" Daiki screamed as he struggled in his chair.
"Satou-san, now!" Shinichi shouted into the walkie-talkie. And in the live feed, the doors of the cabin burst open. A pixie-haired woman swinging in from a climbing wire—used to scale the stopped Ferris wheel. As Akari gasps from the impact, the woman pins her down.
Simultaneously in Daiki's video feed, Inspector Meguro and Shiratori-san had burst into the room. It was underground, and the evening sun flooded in through the door they had broken down. It was some type of Japanese wine cellar. Hidden beneath an abandoned restaurant that was sold two years ago—Ryo Sakamoto's Izakaya Restaurant.
"Got him!" Shiratori rushes over and untied the man. The hostage trembled before collapsing to the ground. He was a sorry excuse for a man.
Shiratori took the camera ending the stream as his side of the screen went black.
"Let me go!" Akari shouted as Shinichi turned back to the main feed. She struggled as Satou applied pressure to her bleeding wrist. "Why! Why are you doing this!" she was getting weaker. Her breaths came out in rasps. Satou-san held her as Takagi slowly made his way in. Clearly struggling to climb the rope.
"If you had helped and done your jobs, Otou-san wouldn't have died," the woman cried.
"This isn't justice, Akari-san," Satou embraced the woman.
"What would you know!" Akari screamed.
"My father was the same. He was a righteous man who did everything for others in need," Satou-san interrupts with a wry grin. "But like Ryo Sakamoto, he was killed." The woman exhaled deeply, "The suspect was his childhood friend."
Akari goes still, looking at Satou-san in shock.
"It had been a robbery gone wrong, and his childhood friend had wanted to end things by walking in front of a truck. But my father saved him. It was a heroic act that eventually led to his death."
Satou pressed harder against Akari's bleeding wrist.
"I was with him during his last moments. It didn't matter how many times I begged and asked for the culprit's name. My father simply smiled."
"Why?" Tears ran down her cheeks. "Even after everything, he kept that bastard alive! Why!"
Fury emerges once again. It was etched deep within her, and she could not let go.
"Because there was no reason to hate," Akai muttered. "He...had already forgiven him."
Shinichi studies the man whose expression is concealed by the mask.
"It doesn't make sense!" Akari, not wanting to hear his words, "Otou-san did not deserve this! This is not justice!"
"Neither is revenge," Satou pressed.
"There's no lesson in murdering someone, Akari-san; there will never be anything to gain from revenge. Your father wouldn't want you to go down that path. Take it from someone who knows."
The inspector flashes her a gentle smile.
"I was the same," Satou admits. "For a time, I was obsessed with the case. I was angry at the world for taking everything that mattered to me. But, Akari-san—"
"Justice isn't something you can just proclaim," she repeated, recalling words from a man she missed dearly, "It's a feeling you should hold onto, close to your heart."
"You can't just say that," Akari slumps against the inspector. The woman's lips were a faint blue, weak from the blood loss. "It isn't that easy to…"
"I never said it was," Satou replied. "I'm still learning."
"She's right," Takagi squeezes Satou-san's shoulder reassuringly. "We exist to help, Sakamoto-san."
The man squatting next to the woman. "We would do anything," he said firmly, "I promise to bring them to justice."
Akari Sakamoto considered them with wavering eyes before she collapsed. And for a brief moment, the inspectors panicked. The live stream bursts with comments of concern. The chat went crazy, asking if the woman was alright. Then, they felt a pulse, and the inspectors sighed in relief.
"Well," Takagi glanced sheepishly at the camera, "That's all, folks," switching it off, he ends it.
Akai takes off his mask, leaning back with a sigh.
"It's done?" Ran asked.
"Yeah."
"She will still be arrested, though," Haibara murmured.
"Yes, she would, but..." Shinichi closed the laptop.
The inspectors' words should suffice. Akari Sakamoto would be arrested, but at the very least—Shinichi glances at the evidence piled out on the table before him. Photographs of transactions. Of Hideo Baihatsu exchanging words and of a scandal. An act of corruption that occurred just three years ago. The public attention that this had garnered should be enough.
"They'll be going down," he confirmed.
"That's good," Ran commented. Shinichi smiled at the raven-haired beauty, feeling like—I am forgetting something.
Shinichi suddenly recalls the time. He snapped to his watch before peering over at Haibara. Taking Ran by her shirt, he pulled her in haste away from the FBI agent and the auburn-haired scientist.
"Shinichi, what—"
"Is it too late?" he asked, "We have a party on the way, don't we?"
Ran took a breath, his childhood friend laughing awkwardly at the statement.
"What is it?"
"Erm…about that," she started, twiddling with her fingers. "I might have leaked the secret."
"What!"
"Because there was no reason to hate." Akai's words to Akari resonated with Shiho. And she took it as a sign. It was hard to start, left alone with the man in an empty pavilion. She wasn't a good communicator, and neither was he. She had told herself that she will talk when given the chance. Yet when the time came, the words were stuck.
"I—" they began at the same time. The man stopped as she sighed.
"I never wanted to hurt her," Akai began after some time. Shiho noticed the man's tenacious grip on his cigar. He was nervous, a rarity for the silent, stoic man, displaying none of the confidence he had when disguised as Subaru Okiya. His shoulders sagged as he dropped the cigar, crushing it with his black boot.
"But it does not change the past," he continued, his eyes fixed on the Beika river. The evening sun casts a strange ephemeral golden glow against the shimmering surface. "It doesn't change the fact that she's gone because I failed. I was late. I was always too late.
"Akai-san," Shiho interrupts, "Akemi..."
Shiho trailed off, hands clenched into fists. "She was aware of my condition," she eventually said. "I told her about what the organization made me do, and she wanted out. There was nothing you could do. If anything," she gave him a rueful smile, "I led my sister to her death."
They stood apart. The memory of rain, of a woman lying on the ground—gone, lost—shot by the organization. Last goodbyes they couldn't give, a lost future. The heaviness settled into the crevices as the hole between them widened.
Soft shouts broke the tension, and they turned to find Shinichi fighting with a raven-haired beauty who had folded her arms and was pouting. The scene is surreal and almost reminiscent of the past. Of a sister who had just burnt a pot of stew, sulking beside the kitchen counter as Shiho nagged. A sad smile breaks across her lips as Akai meets her gaze.
"She's really similar, isn't she?" he muttered. Ran smacks Shinichi's back while placing her hands on her hips. "A crybaby," Akai commented, the man breaking into a light chuckle. Shiho notices the gentleness in his gaze, filled with affection as he recalls those moments he must have shared with her sister.
"A scatterbrain," he continued, "always throwing tantrums."
"Because you were always busy," Shiho scoffed.
"True, I wasn't much of a gentleman, and I was rough; she said I was—"
"Bad with words," Shiho recalls the light in her sister's eyes whenever she spoke about him. Shiho listened to her descriptions with irritation. Jealous of a man who held Akemi's affections. "Insensitive, brash, smoking too much, and never wanting to cut that black hair, which was longer than her own."
He frowned. "Akemi liked my hair."
"I guess I added that."
The man smiled weakly as Shiho looked at Shinichi, then at Ran. "The living move on. We carry —memories of the dead." Shinichi had said, holding her as the recollections came.
"Your sister probably loved the two of you very, very much." The raven-haired beauty recited words that her sister would have said.
And her sister appears, disapproval in her eyes, chiding them for their childishness with advice from the grave.
"You were always late," Shiho muttered. "Even when it mattered."
"I—"
"But she forgave you. She always did," Shiho whispered. "I do not understand why... but she loved you," she continued as the man grew still. "Akemi truly did."
"Is that so," the man averts his gaze.
"Yes."
"I won't ask you for forgiveness, Shiho," Akai replied after a long pause, "But you have to know," He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "Akemi would do anything for you. You know how stubborn she is. So, please...don't blame yourself."
His words brought no comfort yet held within—the irreversible truth.
Akemi would have never stopped. It was in her...nature.
Falling silent, she looks to the ground—making up her mind.
The tension eased as she sighed. It was hard. There was still anger and unbearable sadness, but—
"Thank you," she forced out, the words coming out easier than before. "For loving my sister."
He did not respond, but the quiver in his lips, one he failed to hide, told her everything.
They shared an understanding. Burdened by guilt, weighed down by the exploits and darkness of the past, haunted by a woman they both loved deeply. Only he understood that loss. The only one who remembered Akemi Miyano. And they shared a bitter smile, turning toward Ran and Shinichi, who were still quarreling over a secret party—that frankly wasn't much of a surprise anymore.
Akai lights a cigar as they continued their arguments, and Shiho grabs him by the shirt. He paused, regarding her with surprise. He was still treating her like a rare animal that would run if he spoke. Audibly holding his breath when she faced him.
"Akai-san," Shiho whispered. "When this is over. When it's all done."
He shared her sentiments.
"We'll visit her," smiling at her request, "We'll visit Akemi."
"Still sulking, huh?" Haibara teased.
"I am not, sulk-"
He stopped when the auburn-haired scientist slipped her hands into his. Haibara gave him a knowing smile, and he blushed faintly.
"How are you?" Shinichi noticed that she seemed more relaxed, less haunted. Perhaps her conversation with Akai made a difference.
"I'm fine," she admits before changing the subject. "I heard about the party."
"It was supposed to be a surprise," he groaned.
"Should I pretend to be surprised or cry?"
"Maybe surprised. After all, crying at your birthday party would just ruin the mood."
"Should I practice, Kudou-kun?"
"You're killing me, Haibara," he lamented, and she smirked. Although he was a little disappointed that the surprise had been ruined—
Shinichi sighed before sliding the present he had been carrying all day into her hands. Haibara blinked at the wrapped package and then at him.
"If it's a bomb, I don't want it."
"Perhaps it is," he retorted as she opened the box to reveal a simple golden locket.
"A necklace? I thought you weren't into jewelry." Shinichi frowned before reaching over and opening the small latch. On one side is a small photo of her parents and a picture of Akemi. He had printed it off the thumb drive, finding the image in the information he was reviewing. It had been a family photo, her parents smiling lovingly at a seven-year-old Akemi. On the other side was a picture they had taken several months ago. The professor and the children standing alongside them beside the beetle. Posing for the camera with smiles on their faces.
He waited for her to react and nudged her when she didn't. Holding the locket tightly in her hands, Haibara turned away from him. "Do you like it?" he asked nervously and was stunned when she buries her face in his shoulder.
"I assume you like it," Shinichi replied, his heart thudding furiously at her contact.
"It's old. Looks like a fashion locket for someone in their eighties," Haibara muttered, her voice muffled.
"Perfect for you then, you eighty-four-year-old woman," he pouted as she hung the locket over her neck before carefully tucking it under her shirt.
Witnessing this, joy overwhelmed him.
"I'm glad, Shiho."
He had said it unwittingly. But it was too late to stop, the cat out of the bag—he pressed on. His words were accompanied by an awkward silence, and she averts her gaze, fiddling with the helm of her shirt.
It was unlike her to be so nervous, and he grew concerned.
Had he made the right choice?
"I guess," she replied eventually.
"Shi...Haibara?" he began tentatively, detecting her dilemma.
For a moment, she went still, and then she faced him.
The hesitation—gone.
A decision made.
"Thank you..." she muttered as a tender smile graced her lips.
Green eyes wavered in the glow of orange-lit roads.
"Shinichi."
It was soft, barely audible...but—
It was enough. Desire he had so diligently suppressed—burst forth. Bounding forward, he grasped onto her arm, pulling her close, engulfing her in a tight hug.
"Not struggling anymore?"
"Don't get used to it," she scoffed. Though her tone was biting, her ears were tinged a deep red.
He chuckled.
She could never provide him with a straight answer...could she.
The girl had always been this way.
A riddle—he was still trying to solve.
"Happy birthday," he whispered, relishing in her warmth. "Shiho."
"Shinichi," she pressed her face into his chest, "...you idiot."
And for hours after that, her voice lingered—long after the party was over.
Episodes used:
Episode 206 (Satou-san's episode)
Episode 685 (Akai and Haibara's exchange in this episode :D was really good)
Again William Blake's Poison Apple was used in this episode. I am sorry for the late update, Covid-19 has finally hit me. The dreaded disease has rendered my ability to think clearly XD. Again, I am thankful for your reviews and feedback. I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)