Chapter 55
English Tea, Victorian Cakes, and Mothers
The neighborhood was quaint, located a few hours away from Beika Station. Shinichi was greeted by the smell of roasting sweet potatoes and the sight of red and yellow maple leaves as he exited the vehicle. As autumn approaches, the green of the leaves turns into vibrant hues.
The wind was blowing past, frolicking through his blue baseball coat. Shivering, he put his hands in his pockets before turning to the girl beside him. Shiho wore a light brown down jacket over a red turtleneck. A green scarf wrapped around her neck, courtesy of Ran.
His childhood friend exits the yellow beetle with the professor. The violet coat she wore, along with her wooly pants, looked like the perfect outfit for the chilly weather.
"Are we in the right place, Hakase?" Shinichi quipped, looking around. Shinichi could see Mount Fuji in the distance. The mountain, a Japanese icon, stood in the foreground, its white snow illuminated by the afternoon sun. Multiple short Japanese-style buildings surround them, banners flapping in the wind as people walk along the pavement. There were shops, houses, and a small neighborhood market. A shotengai. The street was busy, packed with boutiques and cafes.
"Koto-cho...Is that right?" the professor confirmed, approaching Shiho and placing a hand on her shoulder.
While the shrunken scientist smiled softly at him, her eyes revealed otherwise. She was a bundle of nerves—a contemplative mix of curiosity and trepidation.
"He said it'll be around the corner," Ran walked ahead, leading the way through the cobbled street.
Shinichi followed but stopped. Taking a peek at Shiho, who was lagging behind.
"Hey, are you ok?" he asked her as she drew in a long breath, giving him an ironic shrug.
"Maybe," she answered.
He grabs her before pulling her along. Shinichi remembered what Amuro-san had told them a week ago.
"Kato district, at noon," was his cryptic message. As the man stared intently at the auburn-haired girl, his extended handshake remained untouched.
Standing beside the river, afloat with the mukaebi lanterns, Amuro eventually withdrew his hands before scratching his chin awkwardly, a crooked smile appearing on his lips.
"I'll see you there, Miyano-san." The man left soon after as the children and Sonoko-san joined them again. There were questions and activities played, and the festival ended with Shiho sinking into deep thought.
Shinichi is aware of her hesitation. The reason was written in a letter hidden in her drawers. Shinichi had spotted it once while looking for a pen. There nestled within, was the written truth of a man who had met her family—parents she was still coming to terms with.
A complicated relationship.
He thought she would reject the man's invitation, but she surprised him. Shiho taking the first step.
"We'll meet him," she had told him the morning after. While eating breakfast, her fingers circled the letter that Amuro-san had composed.
"Shiho, are you sure?" Shinichi was concerned. Although he needed the PSB agent's help, he would never force Shiho to speak to the man if she was uncomfortable with him.
"It's alright, Shinichi," she replied, "we need his help anyway. "Besides," she added, giving him one of her rare shy smiles, "you're here."
He was heartened by her statement and could not help the big and goofy grin.
"Hmm..." Shinichi pulled her into an embrace, gently cradling her face in the crook of his neck and resting his chin on the top of her head.
"It's going to be alright," he reassured her, and she nodded.
"And if anything," he smirked, "There would be…"
"Dessert."
Relaxing, she narrows her eyes at his statement. "A snack that the professor won't get to eat," she said to the old man who was eavesdropping. The professor whined for hours.
That was hours ago. Now here they were, with Ran, who once again insisted she tags along. It was clear what her motives were. The girl is too much of a worrier for her own good.
"Shinichi!" Ran calls out to them, reaching the address Amuro had given them. Within this modest two-story shophouse—was a closed cafe. While peering inside, Shinichi frowned, pressing his face against the glass. A rather old place, with chairs and tables upside down. In all probability, it had not been used for a long time.
Shinichi spotted a bartop counter, a stove, and a sink. A vintage jukebox and an antique grandfather's clock sat by the cafe's end wall.
"Did he forget the date?" Shiho asked, her lips set in a thin line.
"Amuro-san would never forget about this," Shinichi muttered.
"You know him so well," Shiho snorted, "Should I be worried?"
"Why should you be?"
"An affair, Kudou?" she jested, and he scoffed, glaring at her with raised eyebrows.
He waved her away, looking back to the store as she chuckled.
"Is he baking?" the professor pressed against the windows too. His stomach grumbled as Ran nudged him.
"Hakase, we just ate like an hour ago."
"There's always room for dessert," he replied. Shinichi sniggers as both girls look at him in contempt.
"Forget about it," Shiho chided, and he whimpered like an injured puppy, turning to Ran, who shook her head.
"I'm not allowed to spoil you, Hakase."
"Shinichi!" he protested, and he shrugged.
"Can't help you there, Hakase."
"Nooo…"
"Are you a child," Shiho quipped and was about to nag the old man when the cafe's door cracked open. A man sneezes from the dust coming from the rusty hinge.
"Amuro-san!" Ran greeted the tanned man giving them a bright smile. His gray eyes regards the situation, and he chuckled. "Don't worry, Agase-san," he affirms, "You'll get your dessert."
The professor's joy was contagious as Amuro-san welcomed them into the store. A humble abode without a name, a mysterious cafe. A fragrant scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted them as they walked in. A flickering relic lamp illuminated a picture frame behind the kitchen counter. A small boy about seven years old stood within the cracked frame with an angry scowl. An attractive blonde-haired woman with tanned skin messed with his hair. Laughing loudly behind them was a stocky Japanese man with freckles on his cheeks. Taller than them both, he had his arms wrapped around the woman and boy. Although disgruntled, the boy was blushing from the contact. A family photo was taken many years ago.
"My father's shop," Amuro replied when he spotted Shinichi staring at the image. "I used to live here."
"Oh?" Surprised by the revelations, the professor settled in the high seats by the counter.
Amuro wipes down the surface with a wet towel. "Pardon the mess. I've been trying to get the cafe up and running again, but it's been a busy time lately."
"It's alright," Ran folded her sleeves and motioned to the towel. "If you would allow me, I could help."
Amuro shakes his head.
"There's no need. If I allowed my guest to clean my shop, I would fail as a cafe owner."
Turning around with a couple of mugs, he adjusted the red checkered apron he had been wearing. There was a crack on the sides of the ceramic cups, but they were still functional. Taking the kettle steeping on the stove, he pours the hot drink carefully. "Besides," he places it before an auburn-haired scientist. "My purpose…lies…here."
He was purposefully ambiguous, leaving out the main crux of his intentions. Though Shinichi had corresponded with the man multiple times, he still remained a mystery.
Shiho did not respond, her reticent mask set in place. Even so, Shinichi can detect the stiff way she holds herself. Hands placed on the table balled into fists, shoulders squared, back straight. Her lips slowly curve into a crooked grin. An ironic expression that was reminiscent of her previous persona. "And what does Bourbon want with me?" she sneered.
"It depends," Amuro leaned forward, elbows on the counter, chin resting in his open hand, lips curling like a sly fox. "Why did you take so long to consider my invitation?"
"Why did you offer it in the first place?" Shiho asked back. They smirked at each other, green pools stubbornly fixed on gray. Neither of them wanted to take the initiative. Shinichi felt like he was watching a game of cat and mouse, and Ran shook her head in disapproval.
"I'm assuming you've heard the news," Shinichi interrupted their little romp. The man paused before giving a tight-lipped smile, his eyes were hard, and he bent forward, scratching his head. "About the new developments. Yes, I have been filled in."
"Then you should know about the FBI's operation and that we need—"
"My assistance?"
Shinichi nodded. "I've heard, from Akai-san, about your run-in with—"
"Rum," Amuro finished, and Shinichi pulled out the file he kept in a bag. At that moment, the former member's smile faded away.
"Of course, I would love to help out," he replied after a while, his bright, unassuming smile returning. Despite his innocent expression, Amuro's eyes held a certain rigidity, and Shinichi observed the facade the man often wore. A mask that was like Shiho's. An ulterior pretense to keep others at bay.
"We know very little about him. He's a ghost. And we would like to know if—" Shinichi continued.
"I know anything else?"
Undercover PSB agent Amuro Tooru, no—Rei Furuya pauses momentarily before setting down the file. "And what makes you think…that I'll know anything significant about Rum?"
"Bourbon," Shiho says, quoting the thumb drive's digital profile. When she brought up his old moniker, the man's eyes hardened.
"An excellent hacker with a propensity for information gathering," she recalled. "With skills like that, it's no wonder you were considered a valuable member of the organization."
"Shiho… "Shinichi groaned, but Rei stopped him.
"I could say the same for you, Sherry," he started. Her code name echoed throughout the tiny shop. They stared at each other. A doll's mask met a fake sunny smile—tight lips giving no hint of their true feelings.
"A child prodigy, creator of APTX 4869 and Elena Miyano's daughter," the man smirked bitterly, gaze softening. "A woman I have been chasing after," he added softly.
Shiho paused, hands tightening over the cup.
"Have you guys met before?" Ran was confused with the developing situation.
"This is new," the professor frowned, glaring at Rei, who chuckled dryly.
"Perhaps we did," he replied cryptically, taking off his apron and leaving the counter. He drags a chair to sit beside Shiho. Resting an elbow against the high-top counter, he leans closer, a bright smile again plastered on his lips.
"So, what can I do for you?"
"Not invading my personal space would be a start," Shiho scoffed.
Clearly uncomfortable, the girl looked like she might strike the man beside her. Fortunately, Shinichi's perceptive childhood friend and a disgruntled professor had pulled Shiho behind them, sitting between them. Rei sighed before looking at Shinichi.
"The man is a mystery within the organization itself," the PSB agent elaborated, flipping the file open and seeing a blurry image of a muscular man. He looked younger in the picture, probably around forty. There was a wicked smirk on his lips, and his black eyes held a deadly glint. He had an artificial eye on his left side. A unique characteristic of his.
"That's Wakita-san," Ran murmured, eyes widening at the picture. The girl gave a gasp and whips to Shinichi, who ran a hand through his hair, smiling nervously.
"And you only decided to tell me now!" she snapped.
"Well, I didn't know until…" he trails off.
"Mah, mah," the professor comes to his rescue, "We only found out recently."
Ran grumbling at the revelation. "Otou-san was talking to him. Oh my god," her shock was understandable. Kanenori Wakita was, after all, a silly-looking man. Beika Iroha's sushi chef looked almost comical in appearance. An eye patch conceals the eye. From beneath his lips, his buck tooth protrudes. He had a loud laugh and was mostly unassuming. Shinichi had been tricked too, and could only shiver at how close he came to being discovered by the deadly member who had been so close to Mouri's Detective agency.
"I've only met him a few times," Rei recalled, "He is exceedingly shrewd and decisive…who would do anything to get what he wants."
"The organization second in command," Shinichi muttered.
Rei paused, "Second in command, huh."
"What do you mean?" Shiho asked, detecting the strangeness in his statement. Rei smirked, pointing to the man.
"In our activities together, he revealed nothing about himself. Riddles, though, he enjoyed, and I could only weave together a picture that was offered to me. The files I hacked on him contained missions he had undertaken. Within are many names buried. With no mercy and a purpose, he killed. Torture was not his thing, but hunting was. As I recall, there was a quote he enjoyed using."
"A quote?"
"If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers too."
It was familiar, and Shinichi wrecked his brain around it. He frowned.
"The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," Shinichi muttered.
"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" the professor asked.
"It's a famous literary work, Hakase," Ran explained, "We read it in middle school. To put it in perspective, it's about a doctor who experimented with himself and separated his personality into two. Unfortunately—"
"What resulted was a monster, an evil entity unafraid to harm others," Shinichi continued. Rei clasped his hands tightly as Ran fell silent.
"Yes. An insufferable storyteller," Rei snorted, "A man who likened himself to be—"
"The incarnation of good and evil, living in dualities. A contradiction," Shiho muttered.
Rei blinked, a crooked smirk emerging from the depths, his eyes hardening as he looked toward the file.
"There was a boy," the PSB agent began softly. "And a war. It was a horrible travesty brought about by greedy politicians... by humankind's hunger for resources and eagerness to show off. Effortless and fruitless. There were hard times, and the boy lived through the following fires and destruction."
"Furuya-san?" Shinichi was stunned by the story being told.
A war?
"During those war-torn days, the boy lived, surviving in any way he could. Then a bright, blinding flash changed the boy's life forever. Amidst the wreckage of buildings torn apart, fires raging, bodies charred, burnt, vaporized, the boy looked to the destruction."
"A boy?" Shinichi asked tentatively. Rei did not answer but continued looking at the grandfather clock by the wall. It ticked quietly, a repetitive rhythm almost menacing.
They were drawn to it, the handle moving slowly, never stopping. Time. Rei gazed listlessly, considering, then relenting, sighing. The implications of the situation outweigh the secrets he kept.
"He used to tell me," the PSB officer revealed. "That he was cursed. A restless wanderer without a name, and when I asked what he meant—"
He stopped.
"Amuro-san?" Ran asked. The man shakes his head, lips twisting. Contempt and hatred rolled into one.
"He would use an inexplicable expression, one that I could only guess."
"What was it?" Shinichi asked.
"I don't know. Am I my brother's keeper?"
The words spilled, causing Shinichi to drop the cup he was holding. In shock, Ran has her hand over her mouth, and the professor leans back, almost falling from the chair. Silently, Shiho absorbed the information with clenched fists.
"But that would mean…" she trailed off. Shinichi reached out, holding her as she quivered slightly.
"No one knows his true intentions," Rei continued, "but in this mess of stories lies the answer. His goal is all that matters to him, and he would do anything for it. The takedown of the organization was a minor setback, as he would call it. Considering how dangerous he is, it is best we use every tool at our disposal to deal with him. As much as I would like to say that we have time, considering the man's highly impatient nature—"
"There isn't much time left," Shinichi concluded.
"For the operation to work, we need to be quick. I have something in mind, but it might differ from what the FBI has already constructed."
"It's alright," Shinichi smirked, "I'll see what I can do. If anything," he looked at the photo of Rum by the table—a mystery entity—a deadly foe. "We'll take any help we get."
Discussions were held at length. Taking a seat at an old retro-style counter, Shiho sinks into the broken leather seats. Shinichi whispered rapidly to the tanned smiling man. The expression on his face is in stark contrast to the cold-hearted nature he had revealed earlier.
Ran sat beside them, listening to the conversation with the professor, arms folded. There were plans, a mission. A plan that Shiho didn't want to be a part of. Not when the topic was about Gin. Not when the revelation of what Bourbon had revealed still lingered in her mind. In exhaustion, she leaned against the table, gazing at the scenery outside.
Her thoughts went back to her time working in the laboratory, her parents' notes, reports, experimentations—deaths.
"Rum," she whispered, hands balled into fists.
She was interrupted by a plate placed before her. There was a cake— a sponge cake, to be precise. It was spread with jam between layers and slathered with a hefty amount of cream. Shiho knew the professor would enjoy it. Bourbon sat opposite. She watched as he slid a fork toward her. While studying her intently, he set his elbows on the surface of the seats and eased into the seats.
"For you," he quipped.
"It's delicious!" the professor exclaimed as Shiho predicted. When she turned around, she saw Ran and Shinichi devouring the cake sheepishly.
"Done with the discussions?" she asked, and the man shrugged.
"It'll need some work, and it's not worth continuing today."
"We will hold another round of meetings with PSB agents," Shinichi confirmed. He joined them, slipping to the seat beside Shiho, his lips smeared with cream, and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"So just relax and take a break," Bourbon pushed the plate closer to her. He insisted. "Come on. It ain't poison."
"It's delicious, Ai-kun!" the professor licks his lips in enthusiasm, "If you don't want it, you can always give it to m—"
"In your dreams, Hakase," she snapped, picking up a fork and hesitating for a moment before taking a bite.
It was, unfortunately, delicious. And also…familiar.
"A Victorian sponge cake, something of a British specialty," Rei explained, "Mostly taken during afternoon teas."
The man studied her. "How is it?"
There it was. The subtle pensive gaze is hidden behind that amiable mask. Shiho's answer seemed important to him. He waited almost impatiently. It was then that she remembered the words in the letter he'd given her. Again, questions bubbled, but she held back.
"It's alright. I guess," Shiho grumbled, and he frowns.
"That's all? Nothing else?"
"Why does it matter what this tastes like?"
He seemed disappointed.
"I thought..." he paused, wanting to say something but deciding not to. He shook his head with a wry smile, "It's...nothing."
It was unclear to Shiho why, but she became indignant at his dismissal and his unwillingness to state his purpose. It was like...he was—playing a game.
Heat surges through her veins. Shiho slams the fork against the table and pushes the plate away. "If that is the case, we're done."
"Hey—" Shinichi tried to placate her, but she had enough.
Enough of their riddles. Of their ambiguous motives. Of discerning the intentions of their actions. Of family…or trying to uncover the purpose of her—legacy.
Why did her parents join the organization? Why was she forced to continue their experiments? Why was she chosen?
Why had they left them behind?
Throughout their lives, Akemi and Shiho have always been alone. Victims of sick games that their parents forced on them.
Why didn't her parents intervene? Why had her parents entrusted them with the organization?
They had relatives who knew about them, yet they had not appeared.
Why?
As always, they were kept in the dark.
Her parents—
"Loved us, Shiho," Akemi would insist.
But—
They had abandoned them. Akemi fought for survival and was killed. Shiho was abused—used. And, still, nobody came.
Loved?
Shiho was unable to understand. Tapes from her mother. Kind words that did not match the reality delivered to her children.
Shiho could not tell what was the truth anymore.
What was I searching for?
Answers once again, locked behind a wall of riddles. Bourbon's unwillingness to share fueled the volcanic turmoil threatening to erupt.
What was I trying to confirm?
She had had enough.
This was a waste of time.
"We're going, Shinichi," she demanded, glaring at the shrunken detective who grimaced. Sighing, Shinichi glanced at Bourbon.
"I guess that's it for today, Amuro-san," Shinichi mutters. The tanned-skin man stared blankly ahead. The fork in his hand tightened as he gazed at the layered sponge cake. While they were about to leave, Bourbon released a repressed chuckle.
"If I offended you in any way," he again pushed the plate toward her, "I'm sorry."
"I was being selfish," he admitted. "I wanted to keep the memory to myself."
Poking the fork into the cake, he plays around with it. Sadness rippled in gray pools, forming a melancholic smile. "But keeping it would be pointless, won't it, Elena-sensei?"
"Amuro-san?" Ran intervenes. Concern was etched in her features as she tried to navigate the rising tension.
"It was your mother's recipe," Bourbon reveals softly, slumping against the seats, before nervously rubbing his neck.
Shiho froze.
"I tried to recreate it," he shrugged nonchalantly, "She used to make it during my visits."
"Ai-chan's mother?" Ran asked, equally stunned. They turned to her as Shiho glanced at the dessert.
"Yes," the man continued fondly, "She had taught me."
Okaa-san's recipe?
The ache rushes back almost immediately. It took everything for Shiho to remain in the man's presence. Seeing her distress, the shrunken detective tightens his grip. Holding onto Shinichi's hand, she squeezed, attempting to ground herself. Azure eyes, calm—unwavering.
"Don't run, Haibara…"
And Shiho finds her resolve.
"What," she keeps her voice in check, "What is the purpose in this…in calling me here," pressing her eyes shut before facing him, "Bourbon?"
He gives her a lopsided smile as she stares at him. His expression is a mixture of yearning and regret.
"It's Rei," he whispered. "It's always been Rei, Shiho-chan."
And here he was, a man who had known her family.
She knew nothing about her parents besides those cold-written reports she had read in a laboratory in America. The burdensome place, filled with the icy stares of her jealous colleagues, was made more oppressive by the methodological, evil-hearted experimental reports of her parents.
Monsters. Vermouth had called them.
Hell Angel. Mad scientist. Others had said.
Okaa-san and Otou-san. Akemi would say.
Stories that contradicted each other. A family she would never have. Speculations she could only form from a voice playing from old tapes found in a bathroom.
"What was she like?" the words spilled.
With a deep breath, Shiho swallowed her apprehension and faced him.
"My mother, Elena Miyano. What was she like?"
And for the first time, the mask breaks. In a sunlit retro cafe, surrounded by the rich aromas of freshly brewed coffee and sweet Victorian cakes, Rei Furuya reveals a genuine smile. Almost bittersweet.
"A woman, who spoke ironically but was very gentle," he started. "A member of a gracious family who would welcome anyone into their abode."
"Would…" he leans forward, "You like to hear more?"
"Why not?" Shinichi answers for her, giving her a supportive nudge. "We have time."
"Yeah, Ai-kun," the professor said, mouth filled with cake. With a tender smile, Ran squeezed her shoulder encouragingly.
She glances at them before looking at the cake. Lifting the fork hesitantly, she eats it once more. The sweetness spreading through her body, the taste—home.
It fills her with longing.
She wants to know.
"Yeah," she whispered, "I would like to."
After leaving the cafe, they strolled through the neighborhood. Shinichi stood beside her as Ran and the professor followed behind. As Rei led the way, he pointed to the buildings and shophouses around him.
"Akemi and I would steal...the candy over here," he chuckled as he passed an antique-looking wooden store. It was a dagashi store that sold traditional sweets. He approaches the doorway and greets the old woman sleeping inside.
"Stole?" Shiho asked later, skeptical of her sister's past crimes.
"Hey, everyone did it," Rei chuckled, "though Akemi was the one who got the ball rolling. We paid it back later…when Elena-sensei found out."
"My sister wouldn't do something like that," Shiho protested, and Shinichi sniggered.
"Sis-con," he teased, and she stepped on his feet, causing him to yowl.
"That's mean, Shinichi," Ran chided.
Rei laughs at their antics, giving Shiho a wink. "There are many things that you don't know about your sister."
She paused. Rei, suddenly realizing his statement, ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me."
"It's ok," she answered wryly. It would have hurt unbearably months ago, but—
She turned to the professor, Ran, and then to Shinichi.
"I…I would like to know," Shiho clutches the locket she always wore, "More."
With gray eyes that wavered slightly, Rei fell silent. As he kneels before her, he pats her gently on the head with a soft smile.
"You've changed," he said, "I'm glad."
"Uh," Shinichi interrupts, coming between them, glaring at the tanned man who raised his hands and backed away.
"Shall we continue?" the detective insisted. As Shinichi held her hands tightly while grumbling, Shiho was puzzled by his sudden behavior.
"What's the matter?" she asked, and he eyed her.
"And you called me a dense fool," he snapped. Shiho, baffled, glanced at Ran and the professor, who was chuckling.
What?
Still perplexed, she contemplated Shinichi's odd mannerisms as Rei led them through the shopping district to a nearby park and then...to a terrace house.
The house was modest, small, painted a pale yellow, and occupied. There was a family nestled inside. Shiho could see them eating by the dining table. A father and mother laughed as they interacted with two boys—brothers.
Taking a moment to look at the house with fondness, Rei walked around as they followed towards the back. A giant grin spread across his face as he noticed the rose bushes flourishing in the yard behind. Well-maintained thorny bushes bloom with red and pink flowers, gently swaying in the autumn breeze.
"It's beautiful," Ran whispered as they stood transfixed, staring at the roses glistening in the evening light.
"Where are we?" the professor asked.
"A clinic," Rei revealed. She breathed sharply. As she studied the house, the rose bushes, and the family living inside, she understood his intentions then.
"Your parents used to run a clinic here. They were humble folk who was well-liked in the neighborhood. Mostly because they treated everyone, from the old to the young, the poor to the rich. Generous, but always..." Rei closed his eyes, reminiscing about a life long gone.
"Kind."
Contradictions.
Again, Shiho had no idea how to feel about his statements.
These were the terms Akemi had used to describe them. However, the reports written in ice-cold laboratories painted a different picture.
"You might find it hard to comprehend," Rei noticed, reading her thoughts perfectly. "But they weren't what the organization portrayed them to be."
"That's impossible," she whispered, "They weren't innocent either."
Clenching her fists, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
"They...experimented on people," she reveals to Ran and the professor for the first time. They were stunned, recoiling slightly at the news. Shinichi held her hand as she spoke.
"These ideas were prototypes, used on people...to achieve their goals...they were...mur—"
"Like you," Rei interjects, "And me."
She paused as he looked to the sky. "Forced into circumstances that they could not escape from. Though, this does not excuse their actions. I know, for a fact, that no matter what," he emphasized, smiling ruefully, "they were only human…like you and me."
She swallowed the lump forming, the sharp pang stretching across her chest like stinging nettles, and Bourbon approached, squeezing her shoulder.
"They cherished you tremendously. Even before your birth, they always have."
He looks once more at the yellow terrace.
"Elena-sensei often talked about a family of four. It was something she had always dreamed of. As you grew in her, I watched on. There was an unmistakable gentleness about your mother every time she mentioned you. And despite being mostly silent, your father was ecstatic when she announced your arrival. It was then that he made the decision. For you, Akemi, and Elena-sensei, he wanted only the best. Having trouble in his business, he decided to take up the offer from the organization. So you see, it was not for fame...or for a personal pursuit," Rei explained with a bitter smile. "They wanted a better life for you."
Shiho listened. The sincerity of his words gave rise to a throbbing ache, but at the same time—
Relief?
Speculations.
For her parents, she only had speculations. Even so, as she listened to the past, to Rei Furuya, she recalled Akemi's words.
"Remember," Akemi had told her as they cuddled in those dreary rooms, devoid of anything else, "No matter what happened, they loved us. There was never a doubt, Shiho."
Speculations became a reality. The warmth of family was confirmed by a man—Rei Furuya, who loved a woman they both missed very much. It was—
The tangible, unmistakable truth.
"Rei-san," she whispered his true name, a faint smile gracing her lips, "Could you…tell me more?"
"Gladly."
"Your sister was a playful brat," he recalled later, laughing, "always dragging me along, always stalking me."
Shiho frowned as Shinichi chuckled at Rei's statement. "My sister is not a brat!" she replied indignantly but smiled at the pranks Akemi played, like when their father got stuck in the bin because Akemi pushed him.
"I have always wondered how she got away with it. Your father, though possessing a stern exterior, was quite the opposite. He never yelled at her and often greeted her with open arms. I could tell that he adored her very much," he chuckled, "He was like a gentle giant. And if I recall, he was very affectionate with Elena-sensei. They displayed their fondness for each other rather often...publicly," he cringed a little.
"Too much?" Shiho asked, and he chuckled, "Yeah. Their open displays were something I didn't really need to see."
"Jealous?"
"Maybe."
A past unravels of a small neighborhood clinic. Of a boy who got into fights. And of a little girl who would drag him there.
"How are we alike?" Ran giggled at Akemi's antics.
"Caring," Rei and Shiho said simultaneously, looking at each other as Ran blushed. Shinichi sniggers at their admission.
"Both of you were kind, considerate, and—" Shiho continued sheepishly.
"A cry baby who whines too easily, sometimes a pain in the butt." Shinichi continued.
Shiho glares at him as Ran smacks him on the back of the head. The professor and Rei doubled over with laughter and continued their walk. Eventually, they sat on benches overlooking a pond in a quaint park, reminiscing about a woman who would invite a lonely boy to her home.
Warmth and laughter fill the house, along with cakes and tea. Returning many times, the boy spent long afternoons there. Sometimes trimming bushes by the yard, sometimes conversing with a woman as she worked. Occasionally, the boy joined a sister and a father as they enacted some mischief. Apologizing later to the woman who would bake them treats.
The memories shared by Rei wrap around Shiho like a warm blanket. Amid the stories, she closes her eyes and relaxes on the bench.
Night came quickly. The park had become dark, and Rei had offered them dinner, which they accepted.
"You don't seem like the type who would start a fight," Shinichi commented as they walked toward the cafe. Rei shares with them his first encounter with Akemi Miyano.
"It is no secret that children can be cruel at times. Even more so when you're different from the rest," Rei scoffed, "I'm half-Japanese, and we're not exactly understood in a largely homogeneous society. Many times, I was mocked...and well, I learned to fight back."
"That's stupid," Shiho remarked.
"It was," Rei quipped. "But I'm sure you've dealt with it too."
"I did, but it doesn't bother me too much."
"I'm sure," Rei snorted.
She shrugged.
"Racism is bound to exist, but even if we are different when you peel back our skin, we're all just lumps of blood and flesh. To prove it, every race in the world has red blood flowing through them, just like yours."
As soon as the words left her lips, the man went still.
"What—"
In an instant, he grabs her. With his hands tightly wound around her shoulders, he looked like he might cry.
"Hey! Hey!" Shinichi broke between them, a little flustered at how close they were to each other.
"You're really..." he started, looking at her with wavering eyes, "Elena-sensei's…"
"Rei-san?"
Then, he goes silent before composing himself. Standing before her, Furuya Rei extends a hand—a gesture of trust.
She takes it as he holds her tightly.
"Thank you," an honest smile materializes, "Thank you…Shiho."
The ride home was a quiet affair. Shinichi studied the auburn-haired scientist resting on his shoulders. Soft breaths emerged from her as she slept soundly. He smiled slightly. The interaction with Rei before had helped. However, Shinichi admits that he was a little jealous of the genuine smile Shiho gave the tanned man and grumbles at the thought of her getting closer to him. It was one of his bad habits. As Ran would have put it, in a teasing tone—possessive.
He begs to defer but decides against it. The only result would have been more goading, and he didn't want Shiho to catch wind of it. The result would be disastrous. For the shrunken scientist, it would have provided a month's worth of joke material.
After fetching Ran home, they returned later. While Shinichi contemplated the file Rei had given him, the professor carried the shrunken scientist to her bed. A treasure trove of information was contained within. This file contains information about a 17-year-old incident. There was a hotel, a murder, and Rum's involvement. If Shinichi was correct in his suspicions, he flipped it open to look at the pictures of Atsushi Miyano and Elena. This was—the key to their mysterious deaths.
As he went over the information, it began to rain heavily. Winds whipped violently, banging against the windows, making concentrating difficult. After a while, Shinichi gave up and walked over to the beds next to the professor and Shiho's, settling in and staring at the ceiling. Amid the possibilities, theories, and thoughts that were forming about a man, a mysterious malevolent entity, he drifted, eyelids becoming heavy, and before he knew it—he fell asleep.
It was warm, he realized. Someone was stroking his cheeks, and he grumbled, shifting in his sleep. Cracking his eyes, he mumbled incoherently, looking at the source and finding an auburn-haired scientist who pulled away.
It was the way she stood that made him chuckle. Shiho averted her gaze, the blush in her ears betraying her emotions.
"If you wanted to sleep together, you could have just asked," he teased. As Shiho stood with her arms wrapped around a pillow, she looked like a little girl who wanted to sleep with her parents. Shinichi had to suppress the urge to pull her into his bed when he saw this rare adorable sight.
"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped.
"Shiho, come on," he pats the empty spot beside his bed. "I won't bite." She paused, turning away indignantly before nearing him. She was too slow, and he grabbed her, pulling her abruptly as she let out a slight squeak of surprise.
Shinichi pressed his face against the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her petite form. He inhaled her scent as her slender back pressed against his chest.
"You're too close," she protested, and he smirked.
"You're obviously enjoying it," he continued, and she pinched him. He yelped, letting her go, about to protest, when he froze. Shiho had pushed him into bed. She was straddling on top of him in an awkward but not unwelcome position. Then she leans in. Forest green pools peering into his eyes.
"Sh…Shiho?" he stammered at her sudden boldness.
As heavy rain pelted against the roofs, distant thunder masked his pounding heart. He gulped as Shiho spoke.
"What's going to happen now, Shinichi?"
It wasn't a statement he was expecting.
He contemplated. The anxiety in Shiho's expression was unmistakable. Their plans would be derailed by the revelations of today. As Rei's theories suggest, they would be dealing with something far more dangerous...more unpredictable...than anticipated.
"What if," Shiho continued, "It doesn't work."
He pulls her in, causing her to land painfully on his chest. Wincing, she was about to engage in customary banter when he embraced her fiercely. After a moment, she seized hold of his shirt and clasped it tightly as if seeking comfort—preparing herself for the realities they would eventually face.
"It will work. We just have to trust the system, Shiho; besides," he released Shiho from his hug, giving her a toothy half-grin, "If anything happens, I will think of something."
Her eyebrows are slightly raised in skepticism. "That's reassuring," she murmured, and Shinichi laughed softly.
"Hey, when have I ever let you down," he jokes before scowling when she starts counting with her fingers.
"Ok. Besides housework," he snapped, and she smirked, "and cooking, come on, Shiho, that's not fair."
"Fine," she said, "I'll let it go, you green-eyed monster."
His gaze lingers on her knowing expression. While the playful, cunning smirk on her lips widens, he groans, burying his face in his hands.
"Don't be jealous, Shinichi. I won't steal your boyfriend away from you."
"Shiho, for the last time, I do not have a crush on Furuya Rei!" he snapped.
"I might have," she states as his lips parted in shock.
"Shiho…" he warned when he noticed her teasing glint.
"Just kidding," she mocks.
"Why, you little—"
She places a finger against his lips.
"Hiroshima, Shinichi," she whispered, and he studied her intently as she continued. "We need to visit Hiroshima."
It was unexpected, something out of the blue. Though Shinichi could guess why she would want to, he knew it would be too much, and subjecting her to something of that nature would be too…cruel.
"Why?"
"Ara, I thought the great detective had figured it out," she quips.
"It'll be difficult," he tried, and she waved his statement away.
"Everything is difficult, Shinichi, even your stubbornness to protect me from something I can handle."
"You know that's not true," he said softly, and she reached for him, holding onto the lapel of his shirt.
"I have to do this, Shinichi," she insisted. There was fear but also determination. "I need to know."
"Shiho—"
A sudden ringing of a doorbell, accompanied by thunder, interrupted them. It echoed through the professor's house like a discordant symphony. Shinichi dived for his glasses while placing a protective arm across Shiho. Both shrunken teenagers glanced at the glass windows.
There was somebody there.
The darkness of the night and the storm outside masked the entity behind the misty, fogged windows. As soon as the ringing stopped, eeriness reigned. A menacing, almost sinister silence emerges despite the roar of pelting rain. Shiho stands behind him, holding on tightly to his shirt. A look was shared, a hint of what was to come...slightly unnerving.
"Somebody," she could barely form words. "Somebody's there."
"Who?" the professor stirred, the old man rubbing his tired eyes as he stumbled out of bed. "Who's at the door?"
He was about to answer the door.
"Hakase, stop!" Shinichi commanded harshly. The professor stopped in his tracks and looked at them, then at the main foyer. He gasped, the old man finally coming to his senses.
"It's three in the morning," Shinichi explained, "There shouldn't be any visitors."
When the professor realized the implication, he approached them, taking Shiho before shielding her behind his body.
"What's going on, Shinichi?" He asked frantically, and Shinichi shook his head. His phone violently vibrated against the dressing table beside his bed, and he almost jumped. The FBI was calling—
Why was he receiving...so many messages? His mouth went dry. This...this is too fast...it shouldn't be this fast...we know...
There was no point in panicking. Shinichi had to focus.
"Hakase, get Shiho to the basement," he instructed.
"But—"
"Hakase."
"No, Shinichi," the auburn-haired scientist protested. "You're not doing this alone."
"It's dangerous," he snapped, frustrated by her unwillingness to cooperate.
"We're doing this together," she snapped back, emerging from behind the professor and taking hold of his hand. Shiho was deathly cold, her eyes were filled with fear, and she was quivering slightly, but she was determined. It was the same look she had a few months ago when she faced them on the docks. Since arguing with her would be futile, he puts aside his anxiety, turning to guard the door and raising the tranquilizer watch as they waited.
Darkness swirled around them, and they stood ready to fight. Then—
It was a haunting melody that evoked childhood memories of crossing the street and watching trains pass. Rain distorted it, but he recognized it anywhere. It was a number Shiho had mentioned months ago. "Pandora's box," she warned him as he fiddled with a phone, ready to dial a number Vermouth had entered into her phone.
"Nanatsu no ko," the professor whispered, and they froze at the sound of footsteps. It was slow, heavy boots hitting the concrete ground, echoing throughout the deep murky darkness, the shadows stretching, and there, by the windows, a figure of a man. Shiho took a sharp breath as Shinichi raised his watch to shoot. White light flashed briefly, reflecting a hat, sunglasses, and the unmistakable figure of—
"Vodka," Shiho whispered harshly as Shinichi raced to the windows. Slinking into the darkness, Vodka slipped into the heavy rain, hidden once more by the opaque, ominous clouds and flashing lightning.
Immediately, Shinichi ran for the main door, ready to chase. Upon flinging it open, he couldn't help but stumble at the sight that greeted him. Shiho followed behind, becoming increasingly solemn.
Blood...black feathers...dead blank eyes of a dead crow. Its wings spread like a cursed doll pinned down by needles. Red scarlet flowed silently down the wet concrete foyer from its punctured chest, trickling down and mingling with rain water, forming cursed branch-like trails on the ground. "He was here," Shiho announced grimly. Shinichi reached out and retrieved the note stuffed in the crow's chest. A strong, metallic odor emanated from the wet, soaked paper. Opening the flimsy message, he stared at the symbols he could not understand.
"Oth, אות"
With a mixture of apprehension and anger, he studies it.
"Hakase," he murmured as thunder sounded ominous. The once peaceful night had transformed into something frightening. "Inform Jodie-sensei. Tell her that Vodka was here and…" He turned to Shiho, looking intently at the paper.
"Hiroshima," she stated as he nodded.
"Yes, we'll solve this now. The origin of your parents' murder."
Episodes Used:
Episode 953
Reference used:
The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
And now, we dive full force into the last arc. I have taken liberties with it, and it would not be the same as the one Gosho Aoyama panned out. Though, in my opinion, his story is a million times better XD. (Have you guys read the latest chapters? Haibara is really cute in them) :D.
I hope I don't butcher it, and hope you guys enjoy it. Again, thank you for the feedback and reviews given. Wishing you guys a good week ahead.
P.S. If anyone can figure out the language in Vodka's message, please tell me :D