Chapter 54
Obon
In the afterglow of an evening sun, crickets hummed persistently. Groaning as he stretched, Shinichi found himself seated on the high-top chairs of a kitchen counter. With a document stuck to his cheeks, he yawned loudly, wiping the sweat from his brows. In a daze and a little lightheaded, he struggled to remember what he had been doing.
Notes, photographs, and evidence lifted from an abandoned house in the derelict town of Minakami were sprawled in front of him. Shinichi grimaced. Yes, he spent the night poring over the clues. A web of deceit and lies. In a way, it had been insane luck that led to an astronomical discovery, like a historian stumbling across the mythical city of Atlantis.
Shinichi yawns again before finding a light blue blanket draped across his back. Sniffing slightly, he noticed the slightly cooled cup of coffee beside him. A warm smile tugs at his lips, and he holds the cup. Though stale, the drink contained hints of his favorite blend. Everything was made to perfection. A secret concoction that only an auburn-haired scientist had figured out. Coffee with a spoonful of milk, no sugar, piping hot. Once, she had told him that it tasted unpleasant. In response, he deferred, commenting that hers tasted similar to pungent cat piss, to which she eyed him with disdain.
"And how would you know what cat piss tastes like?" she asks when he comments on her lack of additives.
"It was just an example," he commented and had frowned at her teasing smirk.
"Ara, for a moment, I thought the great detective had a fetish for—"
He had stopped her, slapping a hand against her mouth. The result was a quarrel, which led to hours of banter about the topic of taste, which was eventually resolved by the children who had come over to play games. Ayumi had forced them to apologize later, the day ending with a satisfying dinner and an exhausted auburn-haired scientist sleeping peacefully on his shoulder.
Smiling at the nostalgic memory, Shinichi made his way down the basement. A deep voice echoed from the entrance, and he paused. Peering in, Shinichi found the stoic-faced FBI agent speaking to an equally reticent shrunken scientist.
The man held a cup in his hands. Sitting by the purple sofa, he watched Shiho tinker with the experimental antidote. Akai-san was especially tense. It was evident from his rigid shoulder and the slight wavering of his olive-green eyes. Shinichi could not blame him. After all, the revelations that Mary-Sera and Elena Miyano were sisters came as a shock to him.
The news he had received a week ago had left him so confounded that he had gone for a walk through Gunma's forested reserves. Only appearing hours later, relatively collected as he escorted them to their destination. Shinichi still remembered the man's haunted expression. It was one of a broken man, one still struggling to reconcile with the fact that he had not only lost his lover…but his family too.
It was tragic yet brought forth a stubborn resolve. Akai making increased attempts at persuading Shiho. "A miracle," the professor murmured when Akai stood in disguise outside their door two days after their little chat with Mary Sera in a secluded hotel room just off Gunma. Shiho did not dismiss the man, as she usually would, but instead allowed him inside. The two then sat in silence as the wall clock clicked with increasing intensity. It was Shiho who spoke first, to everyone's surprise.
"You need not apologize," she said softly. "You didn't know."
The FBI agent was left speechless, and she excused herself by saying she needed to work on the antidote. Neither the middle-school woman shrunk by her drug nor the turtle tooth tomboy detective had been mentioned by the scientist.
Since then, Akai-san had tried in vain to get Shiho to come around.
"They want to meet you, Shiho," Akai prodded delicately. Pouring a light blue liquid into the tube, the girl snorted.
"What good would that do, Akai-san?" she purposefully ignored his exasperated sigh. Having failed to convince the girl for what seemed like a hundredth time, he was clearly irritated. With his sister constantly standing outside the professor's mansion, it had become increasingly pressurizing. Sera Masumi stops the professor and Shinichi by the entrance whenever they have errands to run, asking about an auburn-haired scientist who refuses to leave the vicinity whenever she is around.
"They are..." Akai trailed off, his lips pursed, weighing his words carefully. "We," he added, "Are your family. Aren't you curious about them…at least?"
Shinichi groaned inwardly. Words were never Akai-san's strong suit. Straight and blunt to the point, he failed to see the inner dilemma that was festering within the scientist. As expected, she reacted with anger, unable to hold back the ugly smirk that formed on her lips.
"Family?" she scoffed, "I never knew them," spitting out the words. The hurt in her eyes was evident. While she tried to hold back, the words tumbled out like venom, poisoning everything in its path. "Tell me, Shuu-nii," she sneered, and the FBI agent flinched, "What does having a relationship with your cousin feel like?"
It was a low blow, even for her. Shinichi saw her turn away. She regretted it as soon as the words left, and Shinichi made the conscious decision to step in. He did not need a full-blown cold war between the auburn-haired scientist and the FBI agent. Not a family feud that could tear apart the operation, and if he was being truthful. Shinichi couldn't sit back and watch the scientist deepen the mental wounds she was inflicting on herself.
"Akai-san," he interrupted, gesturing to the documents in his hand. "Could we go over the clues again? I might have left some of the evidence at the Kudou Mansion."
Still stunned by the girl's words, the FBI agent could only tighten his grip over the mug he held. The man closed his eyes tight for a second, regaining his composure as the coffee swirled inside. Shinichi placed a hand against the man's shoulder, lightly squeezing it, before facing the shrunken scientist.
Shinichi would not touch her now. Doing so will only exacerbate the situation. Even though she had lashed out with aggression, Shinichi knew that deep down, her words were empty, and she was simply venting.
"Shiho," he prodded gently. She stared stubbornly at the floor with her arms tightly coiled around her. The shadows crept around her as she burrowed herself in rage and self-loathing.
"I know you don't mean it," he released Akai. Shinichi edged closer, and she subconsciously tensed when he stood before her.
"Words are like swords," Shinichi repeats the phrase he used to break up a fight between the Detective boys on a snowy night, stranded in the middle of a lonely road, "If you use them the wrong way, it can turn into ugly weapons."
Guilt flooded her features. As soon as he spoke, Shiho took in a sharp breath. She remembers his words well. Slowly, the scientist reached out to grab his shirt cuffs, tightening her grip. When she looks up again, Shinichi wraps an arm around her. Holding her still while she collects herself.
"Shiho," he prodded gently when she was done, and she turns reluctantly to the FBI agent studying them.
"That was uncalled for," she forced out a few seconds later. Her voice was soft—remorseful, "I apologize."
Initially, the FBI agent appeared reluctant, but then he gathered himself. Standing before nodding slightly, he placed the mug on the table. "I understand your sentiments, but I hope you consider my suggestion," he said sheepishly, scratching his head. "Though it might not seem that way, Shiho, they want to meet you."
The FBI agent's offer met with silence. The scientist, unable to deliberate an answer, could only return to her experiments. Knowing that nothing would change her mind, Akai-san sighed before motioning to Shinichi.
"You said you'd like to discuss something with me?" he asked, about to make their move to the Kudou mansion when Shiho interjected.
The girl was intently tinkering with the bunsen burner, purposefully avoiding eye contact.
"If you had found out earlier, Akai-san," she asked. "Would you have..." she trailed off before facing the FBI agent.
"Would you have treated Akemi any differently?"
"No," the man replied immediately.
"No, Shiho," he continued, "No matter what," he gave a gentle smile, "I would always love your sister."
It was perhaps the first time he admitted it. And for a second, Shiho wavered momentarily as the conviction of his confession penetrated through her stubbornness.
Instead, she snorts and composes herself.
"I would not have approved, though," she quipped. Her comment met with stunned silence and then a light chuckle. The FBI agent grinning at her likely jest.
"I guess…in another time, I would have to convince you," Akai left as soon as he uttered the words. Shinichi follows him, closing the doors, as a scientist lingers behind—seemingly lost in thought.
Ran was insistent. In the end, it was Ayumi who persuaded Shiho. In Kogoro Detective Office, she stands before a mirror and examines the summer yukata that she received from Ran. "I used to wear that when I was a child," said the raven-haired beauty as she helped Shiho with the Obi.
"Ai-chan, raise your hands," she instructed. Shiho watched curiously as the girl continued the intricate process of wearing the Yukata. The girl, surprisingly adept at it, had already donned her own. Ran's yukata was magenta blue, embroidered with golden chrysanthemums, and her obi was purple. Her long hair is pinned up in a bun, with intricately carved bamboo sticks pinned through it. Ran was, as usual, astonishingly beautiful and had a manner that would make the general male population swoon.
"This is a surprise," Sonoko remarked. Shiho cringed at the high pitch whine of the heiress, her eyes narrowing at the skeptical look in the girl's eyes.
"One would think a brat as smart as yourself would at least know how to wear a yukata."
The statement was made honestly and without malice, but it still left a mark. Shiho scoffed a little, averting her gaze from the brown-headed heiress.
"Sonoko," Ran chided, "If you are bored, why not check up on the kids? They should be here soon."
"Aye, aye," the heiress grumbled, "Why are we always the babysitters," stretching as she walked lazily toward the door. Ran frowned before glancing back at Shiho.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, and Shiho waved it away.
"It's fine, besides..." she trailed off, catching a glimpse in the mirror. The Yukata she adorned was dark green, embellished with pictures of goldfish intricately embroidered into the fabric. She smiled slightly as she viewed the patterns. "It's true."
How did she get here anyway?
It had been three hours ago.
In addition to the coming operation and the antidote brewing back at the professor's place, she had found herself rather busy. Before she knew it, the heat of summer dissipated into the affable chill of coming autumn. The luscious, green leaves transform into a mess of yellow and red. Shiho barely noticed the changing weather until Shinichi burst into the basement following another hectic session with the FBI. Besides the bags under his eyes, he also had messy black hair, indicating he had not washed for days.
"You stink, Kudou," she wrinkled her nose at his haggard appearance. Ignoring her disdain, he grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed her as she stared at him intently.
"We got them," was his sole statement before he slumped, almost falling asleep. The vague intent of his message was lost as Shiho tried to balance his weight. When he muttered, she laid him down on the pink sofa. In a half-awake state, he whispers in puzzling terms. Some referring to past members of the organization being questioned, others referring to Vodka, the elusive member who has yet to be found—and then—a name.
It made her pause, recalling a letter she had opened a few days after the Gunma trip. It lay hidden in the drawers; Shiho could not bring herself to throw it away. The letter—given to her after the incident Shinichi referred to as the "never again, you stupid idiot" operation. Her only reaction was to grimace, first at the boy who chided her and then at the sender of this particular note.
"Idiot," she muttered, reaching for the duvet and wrapping it around Shinichi, before glancing at a locked drawer.
"Bourbon...huh," she unlocked the compartment and inspected the neat scrawl on a single piece of paper.
"Dear Miyano Shiho,
First of all, please accept my apology for the incident on the train. It was not my intention to cause you harm. Though you might find it hard to believe, I met you before you were born. Elena Miyano was a person I held in high regard. A kid's infatuation, you might say. Contrary to what the Organization may have told you, she is nothing like the rumors portray her. If you allow me, I would love to talk.
Regards,
Furuya Rei"
When they had first met, he was Bourbon. The mysterious member whose task it was to eliminate her. He wore a mysterious smirk coupled with the calculating gaze of every member of the black organization, a far cry from the man he portrayed himself as. She had seen him before, serving coffee and cakes to the patrons of the Poirot Cafe. The words he had spoken to her back in the broken cabin of that nightmarish train ride, she recalled them well.
"Bourbon," he had greeted her, his voice coming through a phone receiver Shinichi had passed her. As she sat beside a dead man with a bullet wound to the head, hands clutching tightly to the device, all she could do was listen in to the man. "Perhaps you recall hearing this codename before?" His voice was tinged with irony, as opposed to the often welcoming and carefree voice he used when speaking to Ran or the children. The sunny smile he wore was an amiable façade. She heard a click of a gun pointed at the disguised Kaito Kid. His following words made her freeze, "I have met your parents and sister."
Speculations.
As usual, Shiho found herself imagining a past that she could only dream about. A past that did not exist for her. A family that supposedly loved her…very much. Parents she knew only from what Akemi had told her—and from the reports written by the organization's scientists. The few words she barely exchanged with Mary Sera weeks earlier did not help either.
The woman, Shiho, could barely think about. Even as she forced her thoughts back, she could not bring herself to confirm the truth of Mary's identity nor reconcile her guilt. APTX4869 was used. There was a possibility that Mary Sera would have died. And if she did—Shiho would again be burdened with the knowledge that she was responsible for the death of another family member. While the woman was mostly cryptic about how she felt about Shiho and Akemi, there was no anger or hatred. Shiho couldn't comprehend it. She had considered taking Shinichi's advice—to communicate with the elusive woman. But frightened of what she'd potentially find out about her parents, had backed out. Again she isolates herself, avoiding them when necessary.
It was a bad habit that she hadn't been able to overcome.
And all she was left with—were fragments.
A juxtaposition of characters. A clash of personalities. Strangers.
The bitterness she carried emerged.
A wry smile spreads across her lips. She folds the letter and slips it into a drawer. There was no point in dwelling on the past at this point. There is no need to let her natural apprehension get in the way. Even more so when an operation was imminent and they needed all the help they could get.
Yet—
It was difficult.
With thoughts still swirling, she reverted to the bubbling prototype and worked until they called.
"It's time for a break!" the professor announced as he burst into the basement. A grinning Ran was with him, her face concealing a rare look of mischievousness. The sudden intrusion woke Shinichi, who fell to the ground cursing.
"What?" he began, standing up, glancing at her, then at Ran.
"I invited the kids," the raven-haired beauty replied, "And Sonoko. Summer is ending soon... "
"And we're going to the bon odori festival!"
Indignantly, Shiho raises an eye at the professor before folding her arms.
"I hope," she quipped as his face fell, "That you're not planning on using this to binge, Hakase."
She expected him to deny it and sulk like he normally would, but the old man regarded her carefully instead. "It's the Obon festival, Ai-kun," he murmured softly, giving her a crooked smile. She paused, not understanding his intention.
Shinichi, though, seemed to have grasped it and nudged her, grinning gently as he pushes her forward.
"Why not? I need a break, too," he winked. Shiho sighed, placing the flask she had been holding down.
That had been hours ago, and they were led from the basement to Kogoro's detective's office. Shinichi met with the detective boys first while Ran remained.
"Ai-chan," Ran said tentatively, fixing the last details of the Yukata, sticking a pin in her hair, and pinning up her sides, "I can teach you how to wear...a Yukata."
Ran places her hand on Shiho's shoulder, turns to the mirror, and examines her work. Standing behind her, the raven-haired beauty smiled warmly. Her features were reminiscent of her sister. Almost nostalgic. "And if you like, we could make this a tradition."
Touched by the girl's gesture, she could only swallow the lump in her throat. "Yeah," she whispered, "I'll like that."
"Ai-chan!" Ayumi runs over as they left the detective's office, donning her own Yukata. It was red with yellow stripes and pink peony flowers sewn around its seams. With Sonoko trailing behind, the brown-haired heiress was wearing a pink dress adorned with golden peacocks—an animal quite like the girl. "The boys said they will meet us at the venue," Sonoko confirmed.
"Pictures are in order!" the heiress exclaimed as she pulled Shiho into a group hug and forced her into an uncomfortable position as she took selfies.
"Ai-chan, you're really pretty," Ayumi said later as they traversed the busy streets. It was late evening now, the skies above turning a deep purple. Around them, people jostled with excitement, a festive mood prevailing. Families, couples, and friends moved in a unified direction toward the banks. A ceremony by the river of sorts.
"You look good too, Yoshida-chan," Shiho answered warmly as the girl grabbed her hand. Ayumi laughs, pulling her forward, talking about the many activities they can do. Her chest puffed out in excitement at the prospect of scooping a goldfish. "I'll beat Genta-kun this year, too!"
"I'm sure you would, Ayumi-chan," Ran assured as the girl grinned.
"It's so hot!" Sonoko complained as they made their way up the stone steps. The red Torii entrance bustling with people. Green bushes lined the sides, along with stone lanterns alit with a warm orange glow.
"Mo," Ran nagged, "You need to exercise, Sonoko."
"I'm still young and fit!" Sonoko protested though she complained some more.
"Metabolic rates decrease as we age," Shiho quipped, stopping the girl from whining. "So unless you want to end up like Hakase, I suggest you start now."
Ran chuckling as the heiress pouted, mumbling under her breath as she climbed the stairs in two. The complaints stopped, though, and Shiho relished in the peace that came after. Finally, they reached the banks of the river. A gentle night breeze blew past, rustling through the green-brown maple trees.
There, strung up along the street lamps, gentle circular lanterns lighted a deep orange swaying in the breeze.
"There you are!" Genta exclaimed, the boy running over with the rest.
"Looking good!" the chubby boy declared, nodding approvingly at their yukatas. Shiho looked at the group, noticing the silent, open-jawed expressions on Mitsuhiko and Shinichi's faces.
"Ayumi-chan..." Mitsuhiko stuttered, "Haibara-san…"
The boy turned a deep red as they regarded him.
"What is it Mitsuhiko-kun?" Ayumi asked, approaching the boy, who yelped and moved back.
"Aww…" Sonoko chuckled at the sight, "Somebody has a crush!"
"No!" Mitsuhiko exclaimed before looking away. "You girls…just look really good."
"Why thank you," Sonoko said, and he snapped back at her with folded arms. "Not you, though."
Sonoko waved her raised fists. "Why, you little brats! "
The children broke out into laughter, running about as the heiress tried to chase after them.
As they bickered, Shiho looked around, noticing that the professor was missing.
"Where's Hakase?" she asked Shinichi. The shrunken detective was still dressed in a blue shirt and khaki shorts he had worn the day before. When she was met with silence, she turned to him with a questioning look.
"What?"
He was staring quite intently, and she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.
"What?" she asked again, and he ran his hands through his messy hair, turning away.
"Nothing," he muttered, eyeing Ran with irritation as the raven-haired girl giggled. Their interactions left Shiho confused.
"Anyway," he snapped, Shiho noticing the teasing jabs that Ran was giving him. "Let's find Hakase, shall we."
"Don't need to," Shiho answered, pointing ahead to the festival food stalls. "He's probably there."
Sure enough, the old man was salivating, lining up for grilled squid in the mess of a bustling crowd. The tiny sheds, serving as stalls, set up in rows around the river banks. The lights, mixed in with energetic greetings from the stall owners, created a lively atmosphere. Drums pounded on a raised structure in the middle of the bustling Bon Odori festival. Amidst a brightly lit yagura stage adorned with red-yellow circular lanterns hung on strings, drummers hit Taiko drums as a traditional flute played a few songs. The atmosphere is filled with dance music.
"No fair!" the children exclaimed, racing to the professor. Ran and Sonoko followed not far behind. Shinichi strolled beside her with hands in his pockets, giving her another side-eyed glance.
"Shinichi," she remarked, "What is it?"
"What?" he asked, making it a point to avoid her gaze.
"You've been staring?"
"So? Can't a boy stare…at his girlfriend, no less."
"Have I grown horns or something?" she frowned at his absurd statement.
"What! No. Besides, that is highly improbable," he argued as she folded her arms.
"And so is stumbling onto a corpse every time we're out," she retorted, and he sighed.
"Look, it's nothing. Drop it, Shiho."
As he says this, he glances at her once more, and she sighs. "You're doing it again."
The boy froze, scratching his nose sheepishly. She raised an eyebrow in question, and he swallowed. "Well… it's different."
"What is?"
"Everything!"
"…what is? The Earth? The sky? Reality itself?"
"Y…you insufferable woman," he raised his hands in defeat. She watched as he calculated his next move as if fighting with himself, then he approached her quickly. He leaned closer, their noses almost touching. His azure eyes were intense, and she drew in a sharp breath. His cheeks were slightly red as he reached out, tucking a stray hair behind her ears. "Like I said, it's different."
Realization hits her, and she goes still, a little flustered, before smirking. He noticed it and scowled. "What is it, Kudou?" she pressed forward, and he snorted, "Can't handle this? Got a weakness…for the traditional?"
"Shiho," he warned.
"Per-vert."
"Shut up," he quipped as she chuckled.
As they strolled through the crowd, Shiho was enthralled by the sights and sounds that were around. The children rushed towards the games stores. Sonoko and Ran competed against one another by throwing circular hoops onto bottlenecks. Ran won spectacularly. Sonoko didn't. The children laughed as Shiho prevented the professor from visiting another food stall. He sulked later, hands in his pocket, mumbling something about elder abuse. The festival—filled with rhythmic music, of families and friends laughing, and the heat of summer dissipating into the cool of early autumn, was lively enough.
A mix of lanterns, smoke, and faint chatter fills the night sky. Peaceful. These experiences were new to her. She had only been to a bon odori festival like this once...with the children a year ago. A luxury. Something she would never have experienced if she had never escaped the Black Organization.
They walked for a while, eventually standing beside the river. That was the main event. People gathered by the sides of the narrow stone steps leading down. Rice glue and bamboo were used to assemble the candle lamps placed on top of a paper boat. Inside, candles cast a soothing, meditative glow. Shiho watched in awe as the boat lantern was released into the stream. A soft glow reflects off the waters, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. The sight was hauntingly beautiful, and she stood transfixed. Over the serene river, lanterns floated silently. Illuminating the dark waters.
"Toro Nagashi," Shinichi whispered, coming up beside her with a lantern. He hands it to her. Having seen the activity in documentaries, she recognized it. "A mukaebi," Shinichi, the human encyclopedia, gave her an intimate smile. Taking the paper lantern boat, she examines it carefully. A candle is lit within, flickering gently. "Welcoming fire," he continued as he carried his own. Besides her, Ran, Sonoko, the children, and the professor had one as well.
After lighting them, they walked down the steps, lowering the mukaebi gently into the river. It was a quiet affair.
"A flame to guide our ancestors back to the spirit world," Shinichi explained as he released the paper boat into the flowing water. "A way of remembrance."
Shiho squats beside the river, placing her boat on the water's surface, observing as it breaks through and creates ripples as it drifts from the shore. Flickering in the darkness to join the rest. The orange glow of shimmering paper rectangular lanterns glistens across an inky surface. She watched, remembering. The souls of those who have long since passed. Those who will be deeply missed. The throbbing ache in her chest was eased by the pleasant glow of the mukaebi.
Shinichi slips a hand into hers, fingers entwined. They shared a mutual understanding. The significance of the event dawned on her. When Ran and the professor found them later, they sat beside them, viewing the procession with hands on her shoulders. Their motive for bringing her here—revealed. Moved by their gesture, she suppressed the tears, choosing instead to remain in their presence. Observing silently as the lanterns continued down their path.
She wasn't sentimental by nature, but as the scene unfolded, an excerpt from a poem came to mind. It was from an old book she had read while seated beside Shinichi on a lazy afternoon.
"Peace, peace; she cannot hear," Shiho whispered, the words escaping unwittingly. Shinichi moved closer, shoulders touching. Ran and the professor listened solemnly. "Lyre or sonnet; All my life's buried here."
"Heap earth upon it." A voice interrupts, completing the sentence. "Requiescat, a poem by Oscar Wilde for his dead sister," the man continued. "I see." Turning, she stared at him. His rueful smile was reflected in the glowing lantern. Gray eyes contemplated the scene before releasing his own into the river.
"Amuro-san," Ran greeted inquisitively, startled by the man's sudden arrival. Shinichi stands in front of Shiho, shielding her. The professor did the same. A bitter chuckle emerged from the man.
The lopsided smile on his face was a far cry from the amiable mask he wore often.
"I believe this is the first time we've actually met."
Ash-gray pools filled with a waning melancholy, one mirroring her own.
"Bourbon," she whispers.
"Sherry."
Episodes used:
Episode 704 (Train Arc)
Quarter of Silence, DC movie 15
Poem Used:
Requiescat - Oscar Wilde
A shorter chapter this week. You could call it the prelude to the end :D We're moving to the last arc, guys. Again, I thank you all for reading your reviews and feedback. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and see you in the week ahead :).