Chapter 27
Negotiations
"Cut!" the director shouted. At the show's ending, there was a great deal of excitement among the media team. The responses she received from the crew were overwhelming, and she very much wanted to bolt.
"You did well, Shiho-chan," it was Jodie-sensei who saved her from the crowd, and she tensed from the quick hug the woman gave her.
"Your performance was outstanding, Ai-kun!" the professor joins her, beaming like a proud father.
"Apoptosis, was it?" Ran asked, still perplexed. "I do not know what it is, but you cured the rats, Ai-chan. Are they ok now? They won't die?"
"No," Shiho replied.
"A prodigy indeed," said the presenter Sango Ogawa. While Shiho had no idea what her real name was. The woman, a disguised FBI agent, did an excellent job of making everything seem plausible. After giving Shiho a thumbs up, Sango glanced wearily at the three guests.
They were inspecting the rats in the cage and the drug, which was secured in a digital lockbox ordered by a teenage detective.
Speaking of which—
"Where's Shinichi?" Shiho asked the professor, who turned to Ran. Like her, they were confused. "I do not know Ai-kun, but he-"
"Asked to follow my instructions," Jodie remarked sternly. "It is imperative that you comply."
"What is happening?" Ran grew increasingly frustrated. Noticing the shared glance between Jodie and Sango, Shiho frowned.
Why are they...
Realization hits her, and a chill runs down her spine.
"They're here, aren't they?" she confirms.
A crooked smile spread across Jodie's lips as she pressed a finger to her lips.
It couldn't be.
They had been so cautious.
And there it was, that nagging numbing fear. Attributing it to nerves, she had ignored it when it appeared—but things were different now. The feeling returned in force, and Shiho stiffened as the three men approached. Jodie-sensei shields her, flashing a friendly smile.
"This is a remarkable achievement, Fujita-san," Moroshi still holding onto one of the healthy rats. "Is it possible for me to bring him back?"
"No," Shiho replied, and his cheerful demur fades.
"Why would she permit you to experiment on her rats?" Kano-san chides the chubby scientist. "You would have extracted her secret and exploited them yourself."
"I would do no such thing!" Moroshi protested. "I am just curious to know what could cause such a phenomenon. And she," he snapped, pointing to Shiho, "Would not tell us a thing."
"It's a trade secret. I'm afraid," Jodie chimed in.
"Just like everything these days," Kelly laughs as Jodie shrugs.
"But—"
"Refreshments will be provided by the sides," a stagehand interrupts Moroshi-san. The young man gestures to the snacks on the table. "It's the director's treat," he grinned.
Arguments forgotten, Moroshi Habuki and the professor made a beeline for the food, mouths drooling with anticipation. Seeing this, Kano-san shakes his head in disappointment as Ran called out to the professor.
"You would think that after all these years, that student of mine would show some restraint."
"Student?" Sango asked.
"Yes, Moroshi Habuki is my student. He might be a genius but is too rash to accomplish anything significant."
"He seems pretty famous to me," Kelly commented. Kano snorted, and the two men strolled slowly toward the refreshments.
Shiho lingers back, catching Jodie before she can join them.
"When?" she demanded.
The woman shook her head, signaling to the trio in front. Her suggestion confirmed Shiho's theories.
They were aware of it.
They had not informed her.
Something was going to happen.
That idiot.
"Fujita-san, was it?" Kelly asked a while later. He settled beside her as they observed the procession of stagehands packing up the spare equipment. Drinking tea from a paper cup, his blue eyes glowed with a touch of gray. "I'll have to apologize for my actions earlier," he confessed, "I hope you'll forgive me."
"What do you want?" Shiho regards him with suspicion. His actions from before were still fresh in her mind. A menace lurked behind his eyes. One she had observed when he grabbed her earlier. He almost seemed too eager. Too desperate.
"Oh," flustered, Kelly fumbled with the paper cup, "I...I didn't mean any harm," he stammered. "I overreacted, you see. It's a bad habit of mine. And well...your drug," he scratched his chin sheepishly, "sounds too good to be true."
"It is," Shiho revealed carefully, aware of the man's hidden nature.
"Well, good or bad, it marks the beginning of a new era, doesn't it?"
"I do not follow, Kelly-san," she frowned, and he chuckles.
"Tell me, Fujita-san, have you heard of Eurydice?"
Shiho had—though the details were vague. "A Greek myth about a man who ventured into Hades to rescue his wife?"
"Yes, that's the one."
"What about it?"
"Madly in love, Orpheus was beside himself when Eurydice died. Not able to live without her, he decided to pursue her. His decision led him to Hades, the underworld. Facing dangers, he conquered the trials given to him by the gods and nymphs. Eventually, Orpheus managed to gain back what he once lost."
Turning to her, Kelly smiled awkwardly. "Unfortunately, he broke the only rule he was required to follow. Doubting the gods' promise to him, Orpheus glanced back into the abyss, and Eurydice was lost forever."
Shiho shrank back as he neared her. "Doesn't it remind you of the drug, Fujita-san?"
"An unattainable dream," Shiho whispered, and he nodded.
"An elixir holding a promise that sounds too good to be true. An answer so close but untouchable," he commented cryptically. "Just like Eurydice herself."
"Kelly-san?"
"Well, it's just a myth."
He stands up, glancing at her with a wry smile, "Thank you for humoring this old man," He shook her hand, "It was a pleasure to know you, Fujita-san. I wish you the best of luck."
Crushing the flimsy cup in his hands, Kelly bows slightly before walking back to join Kano and Moroshi-san.
"Ai-chan, are you alright?" Ran appeared, glaring at the man.
"Ran-san," Shiho studies Jodie, who stood rigid by the exit doors, clearly speaking into an earpiece. "Whatever happens," she continued, "Do not leave this area."
"Why? Seriously, what is going on? First Shinichi, now you!"
"It's time," Jodie interjected before she could answer.
"What—" Ran began, but the woman silenced her with a glance.
Sighing, the girl grabs Shiho's hands. "I do not know what is happening, but," she squeezed tightly, "remember Ai-chan," her blue eyes reflecting gentleness—quelling the reflexive panic from ruining Shiho's composure. "We're here."
"Don't worry," Jodie assured, her attention now fixed on the three men ahead. "This won't take long."
Time was ticking away. Having emptied the building lobby, the FBI stood poised, awaiting the signal. Strapped into a bulletproof vest, Shinichi stared impatiently at the flickering "On Air" sign above the studio door. The presentation coming to an end.
Unable to control his anxiety, Shinichi inhales deeply, hoping everything would go according to plan.
Akai was positioned behind him. Having stubbed his cigar earlier, the man stood stiffly, waiting. His hands clamped over a pistol.
"Jodie, are the formalities done?" he whispered into an earpiece.
"Probably in five. Sango's inviting them out," the woman replied.
"Jodie-sensei, keep the professor and Ran safe," Shinichi added.
"Don't worry, I'm with them," Jodie-sensei assured before pausing.
"They're on their way."
"We are ready, "Akai replied.
"Cool kid, Shuu, be careful," Jodie-sensei cautioned.
Readying himself, Shinichi clutches his watch as sweat beads across his forehead.
Upon the release of the advertisement, Renya Karasuma acted without delay, disseminating members into the fields.
Infiltrating Otaru's snowy plains just a few days ago—he was disguised as a tourist. He was nameless, invisible. Low ranking, without a title—serving as eyes for an insidious network.
Miyano Shiho was important to them, and they wouldn't let her go. They had become desperate, impatient, and, in the process— made a mistake.
"They're approaching the door," Jodie informed. The agents around Shinichi preparing for the confrontation.
"Arrest them. Letting them escape is not an option," Akai ordered. Raising their plastic shields, they surrounded the door.
"Boy, should things go bad," remembering Akai's words, "Take her and run. There can be no coming back from this."
Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Shinichi raised his watch, aiming it at the door.
"I'd like to see more of your research, Fujita-san," Moroshi-san spoke excitedly. The second he opened the door, his smile dropped, and he recoiled at the sight.
"What's going on!" Kano-san cried. Guns out were directed at them.
Shinichi shared a glance with Shiho, who understood the implications immediately.
"Get down! All of you!" Akai roared. He spoke with stern authority, his voice displaying the sinister pressure of a former organization member.
"What is the meaning of this!" Moroshi demanded, shaking violently.
"I said," Akai ignores the man, pointing the gun at a blonde-headed foreigner with blue eyes. "Get down, Kelly James Miller!"
"Is there a reason for me to do so?" the man reached into his pocket.
Taking no chances, Akai fires a single shot. Gunfire echoed through the lobby—bullet hitting its target.
Kelly fell back with a cry, hitting a wall behind him. Simultaneously, Shiho grabs Kano-san and pushes him away from danger. They crashed into Moroshi Habuki, who fell. Covering his ears, the scientist screamed hysterically.
"You are surrounded, Kelly," Akai eyed him with a warning. They approached the man who was withering on the ground, groaning from the wound in his shoulder. Blood seeped through wrinkled fingers. He moaned, holding back tears, acting helpless—like he was a victim.
"Why are you doing this?" Kelly demanded. "I have done nothing! What does the FBI want from me?!"
Shinichi snorted at his accusations. The man going still when he realized they were not buying his act.
"You must think we're stupid," Shinichi scoffed. The watch pointed directly at his forehead. "Three days ago, we found him in a field south of Otaru, buried within the white snow."
The act drops, and Kelly's eyes hardened with hatred.
"Gasoline was used, stacked neatly beside a burning tree. The victim was shot. His taxi was found later in an icy river just off the road." Shinichi continued, "Arriving from America, he boarded a cab, and the perpetrator, knowing he would be attending an exclusive event, assumed his identity."
The imposter grimaced. Shinichi had been right all along. It was a situation that was too close for comfort. They were almost caught by the organization.
Putting the sinister thought aside, he pressed on.
"Disguised as a taxi driver, you took the real Kelly James Miller into the forest and shot him. And to erase his identity, you burned his body. I must admit, it would have been a perfect plan. It should have worked...but luck was not on your side."
"What do you mean?" the man spat.
"You had no idea that Kelly was involved in the actual operation. It was pure chance—a coincidence." The man clenched his fist, seething from the revelation. "You could never have guessed that he was part of the FBI's plot. You found her, but," Shinichi smirked, "you weren't prepared."
"Enough with this bull shit!" he festered as Shinichi leaned in.
"I agree," Shinichi sneered, "You may not have been aware of this, but," reaching out to rip away the disguise, revealing the identity of a Japanese man. "We were following you."
He was a young man. In his twenties, probably. Bearing crew-cut hair and possessing a baby face—he presented an unassuming persona. Akai had a name—data extracted from the thumb drive provided the required information. He was a puppet, a scout. The organization's pawn.
"Ando Masashi-san," Shinichi announced, the man reeling in shock. His ruse was up. The FBI surrounded him, denying him any chance of escaping. And he slumped against the wall, laughing maniacally.
"It doesn't matter," he shouted in indignation, "I've already reported her position. They will come; you're too late!"
His words seeped with menace, and Shinichi spots the look of horror plastered on Shiho's visage. The man's revelation seemingly cemented the failure of their operation. But—
Shinichi smirks, glancing at the man who noticed his confidence.
"We were tracking you, Ando-san," Shinichi scoffed, "What makes you think we'd let you have your way?"
"No," the man whispered.
"You were thrilled, I suppose. Absolutely exhilarated," Shinichi mocked, "Perhaps in your celebration, you failed to notice."
"You!" Ando snarled, realization sinking in.
And Akai steps forward, presenting the jammers employed to intercept his calls and messages.
"Everything? The organization member I was speaking to, was it all a lie?" he asked softly.
"We intercepted every call and message you made," Akai stands over the man. "Nothing was sent to your headquarters."
"It doesn't matter," Ando seethes, "Without my contact, they'd know I'm missing. Otaru would be their next stop."
"We are not that incompetent, Ando-san," Akai smiled, "We've been relaying false information back to the organization. It's not that difficult to do."
His statement —a final nail in the coffin. For a moment, the man regards them with mirth—and almost uncontrollable rage, but then, it disappears.
Throwing back his head, Ando laughed. His voice echoes through the lobby. Struggling to stop, he faced them with an insidious smirk.
"As expected from the almighty FBI," he snarls. "Right? Sherry!" The man stood, unconcerned, with the guns still pointed at him. "Are you proud of yourself?" Brown eyes glared at the auburn-haired scientist still shielding Kano-san. The old man shrank back in fear.
"Surrender, Ando," Akai commanded.
"No."
Shinichi shouted a warning as the agents descended upon him. An object shaped like a grenade was pulled from the lapels of his suit. Reacting, the agent raised their shields.
It was too late.
An ear-crushing explosion was followed by a bright flash. The impact left Shinichi reeling. He collapsed to his knees—dazed. His eyes ached from the blinding light that had engulfed the room. Disorientated by the experiences, he choked before gasping.
The incident left him in a heap with painful ringing in his ears. His vision blurred as he tried to get up but couldn't.
A flash-bang?
There was a frenzy of movement. Shinichi noticed Ando rushing towards him through his blurred vision. The man, unaffected by the blast, kicks Shinichi in the gut, and he collapses—writhing in pain.
With his ears ringing, he was barely make out Ando's words.
"Who are you!?"
Shinichi tried to shield himself from the blows coming his way. Ando was not giving him time to recover. Blows raining from above, his bullet vest took the brunt of the force. Stumbling back, a faint glint caught his eye.
A knife.
Shit!
Shinichi rolls away as the sharp edge hits the ground. The ringing in his ears caused dizziness, and he stumbled. Shinichi sees the knife coming away, and he was shoved back.
Shinichi gasped as auburn hair appeared before him. There was a loud pop, and he reached out to hold onto the woman who had shielded him. They landed painfully.
What was going on?!
Holding onto his bloodied abdomen, Ando descended upon them. The knife was raised again. With fury etched across his features, Ando was about to attack when gunfire erupted in three short bursts. The bullets hit their mark, passing through shoulders, arms, and legs. Collapsing, the man dropped the weapon, crying out as blood pooled on the marble floors.
The madman was incapacitated by Akai. The FBI agent somehow recovered some of his bodily functions despite being immobilized by the flashbang. Shinichi was grateful for the man's physical prowess. If he had waited any longer, Shiho would have been stabbed by the abominable man. Speaking of which—
Shinichi glanced frantically at the girl who protected him. Releasing her, he props her up—prodding her for injuries. Apart from the purple bruise forming on her cheeks and the bleeding lip, she appeared fine. He sighed in relief and was surprised when she grabs him. Hands squashing his cheeks, she glared at him with pure indignation.
She was speaking, her lips moving frantically, but he could hardly hear her.
Her words, though, were not hard to decipher. Worry and concern, mixed in with anger—spilled from her lips. Heart lurching in his chest, he reached out, pressing feathery fingers against her bruise before wiping the blood away with his thumb. "You idiot," he said, and her eyes narrowed.
Eventually, his hearing returned. And he stood shakily as Shiho helped him up.
"Are you all right?" Akai stumbled toward them. He had a cut on his cheek. Shrapnel from the flash grenade must have eluded the shields.
"Yes," Shinichi replied. The grenade doing a number on the agents, and the two old guests, who were moaning in pain. Akai immediately attends to them.
"What…what happened?" Moroshi asked. Kano-san sat dazed and unable to stand, in a worse state. "We'll get you to a safe place," Akai assured as they continued asking questions.
"Let me go!" his screams echoed. Ando Masahi is pinned down by a group of disoriented agents.
"Check him," Akai ordered. "Ensure there's nothing else up his sleeves."
The bleeding man was examined and prodded. The bullet wounds he sustained during his attack on Shinichi bleeding profusely.
Satisfied that there was nothing in his sleeves, he was cuffed by FBI agents. Ando cried out in pain. The wounds sustained gushed, staining the ground with a deep crimson. The organization member was in a bad state, and Akai was calling for an ambulance.
"You will be transferred to a secure facility," Shinichi told the gasping member of the organization.
"So that's it?" the man rasping from his wounds, "You're just going to arrest me?"
"Yes," Shinichi replied, showing no emotion toward the man who injured Shiho—not wanting to give him the pleasure. "You will be confined and questioned. The information we seek from you would be extracted—no matter how long it takes."
"It's over, Ando-san," Akai concluded.
Ando Masashi was quiet until Shinichi noticed the man's trembling body—violent in nature, he could not stop.
"It isn't," Ando whispered feverishly, "They will come for me."
It was then that Shinichi remembered Shiho's words. About members without nicknames—low-leveled pawns used and discarded quite frequently. About a serial killer named Ki'ichiro Numabuchi, who has escaped from the organization's clutches. Fear drove him to kill, not desire. Fear of shadowy entities lurking within. Trained as killing machines, they were— "Nothing more than human guinea pigs," Shiho had said bitterly.
"Ando-san," Shinichi said tentatively, "The FBI would keep you safe. You can be assured that the organization would not get you in the state's maximum security prisons."
And a harsh laugh escaped his lips. His eyes taking on a glassy appearance.
"You do not know them," Ando snarled, "They are relentless, too powerful." Brown eyes linger on Shiho. "Eurydice indeed," he laments, "a true farce. An unattainable prize. I should have known this was a trap!"
The man hits his head against a wall, the madness emerging into the light.
"Dispensable," he rages. "Aren't we, Sherry!"
"Shinichi," Shiho murmured, alarmed by the man's changing behavior.
The bloodied wounds from the bullet stained Ando's black suit. The organization member who had threatened the entire operation just days ago was now rendered useless. Fury emerging in brown, soulless eyes, becoming fiery and hot. Ando's fear changes to that of resignation.
"Sherry, they know," his gaze fixed on the auburn-haired scientist. "The net is closing in on you. For us. He is inevitable."
"Do not speak to her!" Shinichi snapped as the man took a deep breath. A cruel smirk crossed his lips.
"Remember, Sherry," Shiho staggered back as the words left Ando's lips. "Traitors would always die."
There was a crack—of something breaking. Shinichi catches Ando biting down.
"No!" he shouted, rushing forward. He smelt the distinct aroma of almonds. Ando's brown eyes glistened— madness immobilized him. The man's lips were foaming as he shook violently. Cyanide kept in a false tooth, moving through the system. The process only took a few minutes, and Shiho pulled Shinichi back. The poison killing fast.
Betrayal was death. Fear of them caused Ando Masashi to commit the ultimate test of loyalty.
Shinichi punched the wall. There was a flurry of movement as FBI agents rushed to save the man's life. It was too late. The man breathing his last—collapsed, dead.
"Shuu, what's happening?" Jodie-sensei asked through the fried earpiece.
"It's done," Akai looking wearily at the body. "He is dead."
"What!"
"We need to regroup," Akai continued, not giving the woman time to question him. "We are moving on to the next phase."
Unable to move, Shinichi stood over Masashi's body. He was so close. He could have—
"No," Shinichi whispered.
"There was nothing you could do," Shiho grabs him, and he buckled under the weight. "He made his choice."
He choked, unable to accept—the reality. Shiho tentatively reaches for him.
Although the man was despicable—he did not deserve to die that way. With almost telling terror, Ando's last moments replayed in his mind. A life controlled, used—discarded.
"This is the organization, Shinichi," Shiho's voice lacked warmth, and the darkness settled over like a storm cloud. Ando's last words threatening in nature.
The net was closing in like a noose.
I will not allow it.
"I'll end them," Shinichi declares, hands clenched. "If it's the last thing I do."
"You have to eat something," Ran nags. The girl was fussing over them. Shiho, still dazed from the incident, glanced over to the teenage detective. He was whispering with the FBI agents. Information exchange between, kept from her.
It had been hours since the death of Ando Masashi. The member carried out in a body bag. Committing the deed, he had died a terrible death. His fear of reporting a failed mission to the organization is more frightening than facing jail time.
An ironic circumstance.
Leaning forward, Shiho sighs. There were currently in a private inn. Booked and rented by Jodie-sensei, it lingers over the Otaru canals. Sitting by the veranda, Shiho watches as white falls gently from black skies. Once again, the canals were illuminated by the festival lights. In the darkness, snow lanterns flickered as tourists strolled along the streets, casting luminous silhouettes on the cobbled ground. The peaceful atmosphere was a contradiction of what had transpired before.
"Ai-chan," Ran, holding her gently by the shoulder. "Please."
Shiho eventually relented to her request. Shifting back to the private room, she stands over the tatami mat, glancing at the food laid out on the table. A variety of soups, meat, and rice dishes were provided by the hotel staff. The professor, who was already scuffling it down, gestures for her to join him. Shiho wants to nag him but stops. Lacking strength, she instead settles beside him, taking small bites from her bowl. She was tired and—
She smirks bitterly.
It was not over. Not yet.
There was no escaping it. All over the news, a number was displayed. The burner phone sat in Akai's pockets. With her face shown extensively on prime-time television, it was only a matter of time.
The number will soon be used. Shiho wasn't sure if she was ready.
Having lost her appetite, Shiho leaves the table to Ran's disdain. The older girl was about to nag but stopped when Shiho returns to the veranda.
"Here," the raven-haired beauty places the miso soup behind her, "If you're hungry..."
"Ok," Shiho muttered, and the girl squeezes her shoulder before moving in to join the professor.
She should thank her. But again, the words were stuck. Thoughts of what could happen and what would occur left her weak, and she sighs, drawing her knees to her chest—observing the scene below.
"How are you feeling?" Shinichi joins her. An unfinished meat bun sat in his hands, turning cold in the snowy weather. Having settled beside her in the hotel's blue kimono, he leaned against the wooden banister. His eyes carried a faraway look as he gazed at the shimmering dark waters of a canal lighted up by snow lanterns. With a sideways glance, Shiho replied, "The same goes for you."
"I'm fine," he responded. It wasn't the truth. He was still bothered. Idiot.
The hero complex he had extended even to criminals who had wished him harm. "Besides," he continued, glancing over to Akai and Jodie.
The two FBI agents were hovering in front of digital screens. Still monitoring the news and social media outlets that covered the presentation. With the threat gone, they focused more intently on the next procession. A part of a plan that involves a burner phone and Shiho herself.
"Negotiation," Akai elaborated three weeks earlier. He was adamant about the techniques—intimidation would not work. "We have the drug," he said, "and we have you."
The drug wasn't the bait. The fact was not lost on him. It never was. Akai is aware of her intentions.
"Don't give them what they want," Jodie elaborated, "leverage your skills."
"State your case and move on," Akai said, "And if something goes wrong."
"Just leave it to us," Jodie finished, smirking.
"They haven't called," Shinichi muttered. Having aired the presentation and escorted Moroshi Habuki and Kano Miura back to safety, Shinichi had assumed the organization would contact them immediately. After all, the number displayed on the screen was a clear indicator. However, it had been five hours—and still—nothing.
"They're taking their time," Shiho knows their game. The task wouldn't be easy. When it came to the organization, nothing ever was. In the worst-case scenario, it could all be for nothing.
"No point in moping about it," Shinichi concluded, "If they call, they call. If not— we'll think of something else."
"I won't do this again, Shinichi," she raised an eyebrow when he scooted nearer.
"You're too close," she frowned at his knowing smile.
"You weren't complaining earlier?"
"...that wasn't my intention," Shiho snapped. A chuckle escaped his lips as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. She blushed as his nose tickled her.
And then he was still, his lips quivering slightly.
"Shinichi?" Her attention was drawn to this.
"Just let me..." he muttered. Azure eyes held a weight, wavering slightly.
She realized that he was not fine.
He could not be.
"Ando Masashi made his choice, Shinichi," she said softly while he remained silent. " You would not have been able to stop him."
"I know that," Shinichi muttered ruefully, "but if we were faster. If we had planned more, if we had more time."
"Shinichi," Shiho interrupts before he could elaborate, "It isn't your fault," she affirms, "Given the circumstances, you did your best," she states with a wry smile. "You, at least...tried."
He relents, lowering his head against her shoulder.
Shiho allowed it, and they talked, bantering as snow continued to fall. In the end, exhausted by the day's events, he lays on her lap—snoring softly as he sleeps.
"Can't sleep," Akai joined her by the veranda. Darkness fills the private room behind. Ran, Jodie-sensei, and the professor were, too, sleeping by the dining table.
"Like you," Shiho muttered, and the man shrugged. Taking a puff from the cigar, Akai sat beside her, looking at the boy lying on her lap.
"An enigma, this one," he said, draping a duvet around them. "Your sister would have approved," he teased, his eyes full of mischief.
"My sister's taste doesn't matter, Akai-san," she snorted, "after all, she chose you."
The agent chuckled after a brief pause. "That kind of stings," he replied before peering out.
The festival had long since concluded. The lanterns had been extinguished an hour ago. While the snow continued to fall, only gas lamps provided light to the dim pathways. The silence stretched, and the questions emerge.
"There were deaths, weren't there?" she asked, recalling whispered conversations between the FBI agents and Shinichi. "They're looking for me, aren't they?"
The man raised his cigar, not responding immediately. From his lips, gray wisps rise as he exhales.
"There have been incidents involving studios in Kyoto and Tokyo," Akai whispered.
"How many dead?"
"Shiho—"
"How many dead," she demanded.
"Ten," he sighed. "The news reported it as a fire, but—"
"They were murdered by the organization."
"Yes," he eyed her as she tightened her hold on the banister.
"Shiho," Akai began, apparently wanting to say something, but stopped before squeezing her shoulder. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will be long."
She nodded as he sauntered back into the room.
The organization was looking for her. Taking innocent lives simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
People were killed because of her.
Was this the result? How long will this continue?
She had blood on her hands.
"Remember, Sherry. Traitors will always die." Ando Masashi's last words mixed with Gin's. Both harken back to the past.
Gritting her teeth, Shiho regarded the forbidden snowscape. She resented the scene. It reminded her of winter nearly nine years ago. Of that foreign land. Of a basement. Of years spent with a beast who made her life a living hell. Of them.
Will it always be this way?
The swirling darkness was interrupted by sniffles. As Shinichi moved, his arms encircled her waist.
His words resonated in her mind.
Those blue eyes never wavered—a promise kept— "It will all work out in the end, Shiho."
Her determination deepens.
"No," she whispered, clutching the locket Shinichi had given her as she prepared for what lay ahead. "Never again," she vowed.
The tatami was a crimson red as a morning sun spilled through the lattice windows. On it, Shinichi sat with his arms folded, focused on the device.
"Shiho," Akai greets her sternly as she rises from the futon. "They're calling," he confirms.
The burner phone rings on the knee-height coffee table, vibrating ominously as Shiho peered apprehensively at it.
"Ready?" Shinichi asked.
There was no escaping fate. She had faced them once before; she could do it again.
"Yes."
"Ok," Jodie-sensei readies the laptop and hacking devices.
"Do it," Akai orders.
And she picks it up.
"Sherry, you've finally shown yourself," he drawled, greeting her with his dreaded tone. It was Gin.
She could almost imagine the twisted grin on his face.
Akira gives her the signal, and she cuts the call off. "Who was that?" Ran, horrified by his voice.
"Is this going to work?" the professor added, staring at the phone in disgust. "Won't this make them angrier?"
"That's the plan," Shinichi replied, giving Jodie-sensei a thumbs up.
As expected, the phone rang once more. "Let it dwindle down," Akai instructed Shiho.
"What are we doing here?" Ran asked, just as confused as the professor.
"We are stalling," Shinichi explained. Shiho stares unnervingly at the black burner phone. The call dwindled as it drew to a close. A tense silence followed, hanging over the room like a storm.
"Make them angry, Shiho," Akai had instructed her earlier, explaining how they would engage a member of the organization. "We have to lure him out."
"He'll call again," Shinichi predicted confidently.
He did, the phone ringing as she picked it up. Gin's voice was calculated, emotionless. She could, however, hear it—the simmering rage that threatened to explode just beneath the surface.
"Enough of this, Sherry," he growled. "You won't last if you keep this up."
Shiho cuts the call without giving him any satisfaction.
"Good," Akai replied, "Do it, Shiho."
The phone rang for the fourth time. She picked it up once more and was met with silence. Shiho could hear the wind whipping behind him, static crackling, and when he spoke again, it was almost methodical, clinical, a threat he could not resist.
"I warned you, Sherry," Gin sneered, his voice a painful reminder of her past.
She was suddenly plunged into a basement without food or water. All that lingered was the metallic stench of blood and the phantom sensations of chains wrapping around her ankles and wrists. And scars left behind.
She swallowed, gathering herself.
"The organization is finished," she forced, her tone devoid of emotion. Kept purposely so she could not show weakness. It would be detrimental.
"Oh, how brave. Our little bird...spitting warnings now?" He laughed dryly. Shiho tensed at his tone. "Do you really think," he sneers, "you can run?"
Gin's words were chilling—baiting her, luring Shiho into the darkness of her own psyche. A psychological game. His subtle glee in her suffering was evident, but—
"You're finished. The FBI knows who you are. It's over."
She would not succumb to his threats.
Gin laughs again. Shiho had to steel herself. She hated when he did that. Something terrible always occurs when he did.
"The FBI are nothing, Sherry," he said, "We'll get you. There is nothing you can do about it."
"The drug," Vermouth emerges, and Shiho wanted to bolt again. "We want the drug."
"What makes you think I'll just hand it over?"
"Do not push me, Sherry. I know what you are. If you want them to live...you know what to do."
Did they threaten Akemi in this manner? Was this the method by which they lured her sister to death?
And from her fear, anger erupts. Red, hot, it burnt through. Smothering anything in sight. It was impossible for her to feel anything else.
"You don't seem to understand Vermouth," Shiho spat, "I'm not some brat you can order around anymore. The organization is in shambles. Your members are scrambling for every last bit they have. The drug you so desperately want, I will not give. And if you threaten me ever again, I will destroy it. Your miserable Pandora's box will remain shut for all eternity!"
Across the line, silence ensued. Shiho is unable to stop, her rage consuming her. "You will come on my terms. I'm done running. If you want this, you will get it yourself."
"And what would it give?" a quiet voice asked. "For a trade?"
It was soft, husky. But—
In shock, Shinichi pulled back, a smirk flirting on his lips.
"Money?"
It was him. Renya Karasuma. That bloody fiend. They finally got him.
"Do you think I want your money?" It was their only chance, and she will seize it.
"Then state your terms, girl. I have no patience for your fickle games," the man huffs.
"Patience? You were never patient with anything. When my parents failed to finish the drug, you had them killed. You'll do anything to get this," Shiho whispered harshly.
"Killed? Your parents died in an accident. I would never order a hit on them," he sneered, taking the bait.
Hearing it from his lips, Shiho falters. His words confirm Shinichi's confirmation. The truth of her parent's death suddenly—a mystery. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry. But she held back.
There was nothing she could do now. Her parents were killed—he had not ordered the hit. He needed them.
It proved something.
"Accident?" Shiho continued, "Are you sure?"
"What do you mean?"
"Perhaps you should ask Rum that question."
Data hacked from the thumb drive provided Shinichi with a web of lies. Woven within the organization, of secrets that were kept—hidden from the boss himself.
"Your parents met with an accident," Rum emphasized, emerging from the shadows, speaking for the first time.
"No," Shiho seethed, keeping her tone in check. "You killed them against your boss's orders, or did you forget—Rum. Treason, won't you say, Renya Karasuma."
"Is that all?" Renya snapped, losing his patience. "Do you think your innocent, Sherry?" His raspy voice was rife with malice.
A scream followed. One so primal, so raw, so filled with terror. As she heard a woman whimpering from the other end, she paused.
No.
The scream happened again, followed by begging. There were cries, shouts, and a deafening pop of guns. She recognized it—the insidious recording. Of an innocent family murdered. Of a box in a basement. Of a tape played repeatedly.
There was no escape.
The memories rushed back, and she was transported to a basement. Again, the silver-beast beckons, laughing cruelly as he raised a gun.
"Naive little fool."
A hand grabs her, and she whips around. Panting slightly, she finds herself staring at the professor.
Control yourself. She chided. The touch burnt. Her back was scarred from the beatings, the phantom pain running through the scars. Shiho was sweating, her body trembling slightly.
"It's ok," the professor mouths, gesturing to the room before her. The weight of his hand brought her back to reality. Shinichi, Ran, Akai, and Jodie-sensei. They were here.
She wasn't alone.
She wasn't there anymore.
"What are you up to?" she swallows the panic.
"You've killed people too. Innocents, I might add," Renya quipped. "The answer is simple, isn't it? Sherry, you belong with us."
Shinichi grabs her, tightening his hold. His eyes burned. He was furious.
"I am not playing your games. Do you want this or not?" she demanded, unwilling to fall for his rhetoric. Laughing at her attempt, Gin taunts her.
"Not begging anymore, huh?"
"Beg," she sneered, "I will not be the one doing the begging, Gin."
'Oh really?' Gin laughs, "What happened to the Sherry, who used to grovel on the basement floor, pleading with us...to end her life?"
A painful mess flooded back, bubbling like lava and smothering her. The abuse, pain, and hopelessness of it all. The weight of his body crushing hers. Of the desperate wish to die.
"Are you done?" Shiho whispered, unable to retain her composure. Despite Shinichi's efforts to stop her, she pushed him away. Without mincing words, she spoke quietly in a low voice, "The Organization is finished, Gin," she spat mockingly, "It was. Ever since you failed to kill me. Not once. But twice. Despite everything—you're pathetic."
"You—"
"What is it you want?" Vermouth intervenes, cutting Gin off.
"All four of you will meet me on my terms."
"Sherry, do you think we will fall for your trap?" Rum sneered.
"I do not care," Shiho scoffs sarcastically, "My terms remain the same. The answer is simple," she mocked, throwing words back in their faces, "Isn't it?"
An eerie silence descended. The situation had reached its peak. A burst of laughter echoed followed. Soft at first, it grew louder, carrying a sinister atmosphere that carried ominous intentions.
"It is," Renya chuckled, "but I would have to respectfully decline."
It wasn't the answer they were looking for.
"As Vermouth noted, this is a trap—the drug works, yes, but I have yet to see its full potential. It's not worth the risk, I'm afraid."
Shinichi was on the verge of cutting the call. Negotiating with them now was pointless. Not when they weren't getting what they wanted from the organization. Akai signals the need to regroup. To reconsider the terms. Shiho glanced back at the phone. Something about Renya's words seemed to imply—
She smirked, catching the bluff.
"Oh, really," she taunted. Holding up a hand, she stops Shinichi. "Why the desperate effort to locate me then?"
"Simple. You're a traitor, Sherry."
"That's not it," Shiho whispered, "The organization's survival, your life work, the answer to your chronic disease—depends on this."
The information extracted from the black organization databases becomes useful. A deduction made by Shinichi regarding Renya Karasuma's current state was confirmed.
"Sherr—"
"Can you afford to throw it all away?" she ridiculed, interrupting him, "All because of one little girl?"
"There are other methods, Sherry, I do not need—"
"A cure?" Shiho intervenes. "Even if it's dancing right in front of your eyes?"
The man's silence was telling. Shiho sensed the fury within. To obtain the drug, Renya Karasuma was willing to do anything.
They had found it—their leverage.
"It's worth the risk, isn't it?" she finished.
In anticipation, Shiho holds her breath.
"You're walking a tightrope, Sherry," He whispers, "Do I sense a threat? An almost foolish attempt, I suppose, but very well, I'll concede."
"But—" Vermouth said, but Renya stops her.
"With conditions," he sneered.
"What do you me—"
"As long as you can prove the drug's effectiveness," he cuts her off. "I'll come to your terms."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Shiho asked.
"Imagination, Sherry," he chuckled ominously, "Don't worry, you'll see."
The call ended with a click. An unsettling tone beeps from the line. Renya's last words hinted at an insidious promise they couldn't understand.
She shuts her eyes, trying to forget the swirling memories of abuse and torture. They had heard it all. The professor, Akai, Jodie, Ran, Shinichi—they had heard everything.
And an overwhelming sense of shame gripped her.
The answer remains ambiguous, and the black organization persists.
"Did...did we fail," she murmured. "Was it all for—"
"No," Shinichi assures her. "Having the drug will serve our advantage. As long as we have it, they won't do anything rash."
It was a start, but the future remained uncertain.
"What," Ran broke the silence, "What happens now?"
"What is he going to do?" the professor whispered.
"Are we going to make the first move?" Jodie asked.
"No. The risk is too high," Akai answered, "We simply—"
Taking the burner phone in his hands, he stuffed it in his pocket.
"Wait."
Episodes used:
Episode 289 to 290- guinea pigs in the organization :D
I hope you enjoyed this chapter :D Thank you for all your kind reviews and support.
We're nearing arc 3 :D