Chapter 61

Lockets and Family

From within, a statue appears. Hands placed together—a figment of Mother Mary was pleading with the sinking shadows. Everything in sight washed away in a torrent of blood, and she stood before a tree bathed in inky black, embodying an abyss deeper than the ocean. Blood streamed from her side as Akemi lay beneath the tree, covered in a white raincoat.

Like a tsunami, the fury rushes through her, making her nauseous. Then it appeared—

A hiss, a forked tongue, and beady golden eyes withheld mirth and gazed lazily at her. Coiled around the rough branches of a lone tree, a serpent hangs, smirking as it approaches. "Choose, Sherry." it snarled, a whispery temptation. It extends a crimson apple as an offering. Clear and stark in the darkness, it represented—a choice. Without hesitation, she takes it. The apple transforms into a pistol.

A frantic beeping of machines resounds in her ears. As if by magic, the floors fell from her feet, leaving her in a whitewashed room. The stench of antiseptic stung her nostrils.

A blonde-headed demon lay under white sheets, still as if dead. The woman was a monster who had killed without remorse, based on clandestine orders they all followed without cause. Sherry had been the same.

They deserved it.

While holding the gun, Sherry pressed it into the woman's temples.

Her hand hovers over the trigger as lightning strikes against stygian skies. She pauses as her phone vibrates viciously in her pockets. It had been ringing continuously—distracting her from her mission. The throbbing ache that was pounding constantly turned into a persistent sting, stabbing through like a hundred needles.

As her ears buzz, the lump in her throat grows stubbornly. Gritting her teeth, she shuts her eyes, seething with frustration. Her blood was racing through, and she could hardly contain the swirling rage threatening to burst forth.

Her eyes caught sight of the caller ID, and despair swept through.

Why? Why was he still—

Thoughts of shrunken detective persisted at the edge, intensifying—blue eyes, gentle smile, the banterings they shared, the warmth…he remained.

"Trust me."

"Don't worry. I am the Heisei Holmes, after all."

"I'm here."

"I love you, Shiho."

As the gun drops from trembling fingers, it bounces off polished floors. The ache subsided, and an emptiness developed, turning into a void.

"Ah!"

There was a crash. Startled by the noise, Shiho awoke. Faced with bubbling flask and bunsen burners, she ran a hand through her hair as she turned to the source. Muffled curses were coming from beneath. Shiho peered over the makeshift platform to find the professor buried in carton boxes and equipment below. The man was lying flat, groaning under the weight of a stack of cartons. As he struggled to stand, he looked up at her grimacing slightly.

"Hakase..." Shiho murmured, concern taking over as she bounded down the ladder. "What were you trying to do?"

As she helped him up, the old man chuckled nervously. Besides the dirty hands, she noticed the black smudges on his cheeks and the slightly burnt smell emanating from his brown sweater.

"I just wanted to..." he trailed off, chestnut eyes trained on her. Reaching over, his fingers brushed against her eyes. Pulling away, there were remnants of tears. A frown emerges. "Ai-kun," he whispered, "What happened?"

There was a lasting ache left by the disorienting dream. As she gazed at the platform above, she felt numb. The basement of the professor's house is currently under renovation, with FBI and PSB officers moving in and out of the space. The place was, of course, off-limits to her. After what transpired, she was not permitted to be alone. As a result, a temporary lab was set up in the professor's garage, and the old man kept a close eye on her like a tenacious bee.

"It's nothing, Hakase," she sighed.

"Not again, Ai-kun," he chided.

She remained silent as he bumped her softly on the head.

"Nightmares? Episodes? You need to talk to us," he insisted. "Lest you repeat what you did that night."

She winced.

"I won't stop," he noticed. "What you did really scared us, and no matter what..." he nags, their roles reversed. "It was wrong."

Shiho could only endure it as she assisted him with the fallen equipment, and they descended into a bearable silence. As time passed, her movements slowed, and she stared, dazed, at the rising dust clouds made visible by the stream of sunlight. Hypnotic in nature, they drifted and floated in the atmosphere, and memories of that night returned to her.

The ride back in Jodie-sensei's car was, at best, an awkward one. The gravity of what she had done was severe—it was a miracle that she had gotten off as lightly as she did. Akai's influence helped mostly. Mitigating the damage done, writing off her actions in a report, and ordering the agents involved to remain silent. The ear shelling she received from Jodie-sensei, however, was extensive. Akai was more subtle, forbidding her from leaving the house without permission. More than anything else, the man was concerned about the security lapse. The fact that a ten-year-old could slip past special forces had to be considered.

Attempting to regain some sense of normalcy was challenging during the last week.

The elephant in the room was left unaddressed. Too busy, she said. Her excuse. Shiho knew it by the way he stood, the look he gave her, and the hurt he showed in his expression. Shinichi wanted to talk, but she could not face him—not when the anger still festered. It burnt like an eternal fire. The temptation was still strong. In some instances, the pain emerged as an erupting volcano, and she once more found herself restless and searching for a gun to end it all.

Rum. Vermouth. Gin. Organization. Parents. It conjured up torrid recollections.

And so, with the days passing, and an operation in the works, the shrunken detective, like her, buries himself in work. The two hardly saw each other, let alone converse. Their uneasy tension becomes a solid wall, creating an impenetrable barrier.

"Ai-kun?" the professor interrupts.

"I'm fine, Hakase," she quipped when he approached her. Shiho held out her hand to prevent him from touching her.

He hesitates before sighing and gesturing to the mess on the ground.

"Well, if you're free, you could help me carry this out."

"This?"

A small silver-colored metallic box stood out from the displaced cartons and equipment pile. This rectangular object had a hole in the middle.

"What is it?' she asked.

He winked at her as she helped him dislodge it, unable to contain his excitement. As they lifted it from the garage into the courtyard, dead leaves swirled in yellowish-green grass. A light blue sky is dotted with fluffy white clouds, and an icy breeze swept through her auburn bangs. Shiho shivered slightly, only to be greeted by the enthusiastic face of Yukiko Kudou.

Shiho paused, giving the professor a raised brow.

"An outdoor cookout, Ai-kun," he revealed.

Waving excitedly, Yukiko stood at the gate's entrance. Donning a stylish winter coat, and sunglasses, the woman was effortlessly graceful as she strolled in.

"What?"

"A BBQ party!" Yukiko's shrill tone pierces the tranquil atmosphere. The woman walked over with a giant grin. The vibrant energy she exudes is disorienting.

"Come on, Ai-chan!" the woman exclaims.

As Shiho gawked, the professor handed her a list. His lips are curved into a mischievous grin as he places the Osaka cap on her hair.

"Grocery shopping now?"

"This is your punishment for taking matters into your own hands!" the professor chided when she protested against Yukiko's grip. She was just about to escape when the woman caught her. Shiho was unable to react as the woman dragged her forward.

"No weaseling your way out of this one~" she sang, grinning widely. "What shall we buy, Ai-chan?" Yukiko chirped, skipping down the pavement, "Ooo, do you think oranges will go well on the grill?"

Oranges?

"If you're fine with an explosion," Shiho quipped, and the woman laughed. Glancing at her, the woman's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Exploding fruit it is."

Faced with this force of a woman, Shiho could only sigh.

"I've heard," Ran started. They were riding in a bus. Shinichi rubbed tired eyes, yawning in the process. He was exhausted, the sheer workload coupled with the late nights the cause.

He grimaced, recollecting the incident that happened a week earlier.

"I don't want to talk about it, Ran," Shinichi snapped at his pestering childhood friend, who sat with arms folded, pouting slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, "I could have helped!"

She was adamant, and Shinichi could only sigh, half in annoyance and half in frustration. "Look, we were in a hurry," he explained, "the professor found her gone, and there was just no time…" he trailed off, feeling the anxiety grow again. He fell silent, leaning against the glass windows and looking into the passing red-yellow maple trees. Getting to the private hospital was a long journey—an hour's drive.

He recalled Jodie-sensei's haphazard driving as the car slid across slippery roads while a storm raged above. "We might not make it, boy," she warned him, and he bit his lips and tightened his seat belts.

The ward is silent. Shiho had not committed the crime. Instead, by some miracle, she had wandered into a cafe. He found her. Thank god he did.

Falling limp in his embrace, she leaned on him as he bore her weight. As the shadows deepened, she cried herself to sleep. After that, Jodie-sensei carried the girl back to the car. Both the FBI agent and shrunken detective breathed heavy sighs of relief. In the distance, purple clouds fade into clear skies as the first light of sunrise breaks through dreary gray skies. Akai and the professor were waiting by the doors, surrounded by armored police vehicles. Within seconds of seeing her, the professor rushed to the sleeping scientist and carried her inside. Akai relaxed as he lit a cigar, exhaling smoke into the morning air.

Ran arrived later, and Shinichi wasn't in the mood to explain. He ignores his childhood friend's question and engages in heavy discussions with Akai and Jodie-sensei instead. Now that the plans for the operations were moving along smoothly, he took the same route Shiho had taken a week earlier. Some issues still needed to be addressed. He had noticed this as soon as he saw Vermouth's comatose form.

"Is Ai-chan…alright?" Ran nudges him as the bus nears a forested area. Shinichi nodded solemnly in response to her question. A worrier as always, his childhood friend fiddled nervously with her thumbs. It was a habit of hers—a childhood quirk she never got over.

"Did she really..." Ran was about to continue, but she stopped herself, sighing at the darkening expression on his face.

"Fine, let's not discuss it. But Shinichi," the girl placing a comforting hand over his shoulder, "Remember, Hattori-kun, Sera-chan, and even the children, are willing to help."

Her gesture touched him, and he could only nod.

"What are we going to do anyway?" Ran turned to look at the building that appeared ahead. Shinichi reaches into his pockets, feeling the smooth surface of a locket, as a slow smirk emerges on his lips.

"A date," he replies, "With a sleeping beauty."

Ignorance.

That was the curse that plagued Mouri Ran.

Living without the burdens of knowledge. Protected from the cruelties of the world. Like most people, Mouri Ran lived blindly to the side of the world Shinichi saw.

Despite being more exposed to the elements than others, growing up with a detective who literally attracts corpses, she was still naive about the evils humans could inflict. A good thing, Ai-chan had told her once. The shrunken scientist had expressed, without malice, her sincere desire that Mouri Ran remains untouched by the perils that threaten her world.

I can handle it.

Ran, though, wanted to say. While they rushed headlong into danger, she could not sit back and watch.

I want to know.

Again, she felt powerless as she witnessed the breakdowns a scientist tried so hard to hide from her.

I can't remain like this anymore.

Having dipped her toes into the darkness, she became curious. Fear was something she hadn't quite grasped yet. Willfully simpleminded. Throughout her life, she believed that good would always triumph over evil. That as long as heroes exist, as long as Shinichi exists, everything will work out.

The world, she knew, could be cruel sometimes, but good always won. It was a natural order of things. This was a hope Shinichi desperately clung to. Having molded his purpose, it had given him the will to carry on.

"Why did you save me?"

On the dreary summer night, amidst the dazzling lights of New York City, and pelting rain, her feelings burnt bright. Her heart buzzed in an evanescent tempo as she clung to the teenage detective before her.

Her arms were aching from trying to save a silver-haired man who had tried to kill her. The man did not hesitate, and she did not either. The dualities of their natures are reflected in the flash of lightning. Their fates are forever intertwined in a single moment.

"Is a reason necessary?" Shinichi's words reverberate in her heart. "I don't know why you would kill someone. But as for saving someone...A logical mind isn't needed, right?"

A heat blossoms, molding into attraction and adoration. An innate idea they shared.

But—

It was simply not reality.

She understands that now. Despite her optimism, she was unable to save. Sometimes heroes die, and sometimes nothing goes as planned. She had not been prepared for the operation along the docks. When Anne Kinoshita, an FBI agent she had gotten close to, died, she was devastated.

The FBI agent stopped them from rescuing her as they communicated between the detective boy's badges. Ran could not reach her in time.

Nobody could.

At that moment, her foundation collapses. As Ran continued to communicate, she had to ignore the developing situation. The coming months are filled with a deep aching feeling, leaving her helpless.

I can handle it.

As the phrase emerges again, she loses the confidence she had.

An ugliness manifests, leaving her to question her beliefs. The naive hope she carried shatters, and she hesitates on matters she would have answered with conviction months earlier.

Her ignorance was bluntly shown to her. Like a mirror, peering back.

"An innocent loss," Eisuke had said weeks after the operation by the docks. While watching the detective boys play on the park benches, Ran muses about her crumbling purpose. Sorting through the aftermath with Ai-chan and Shinichi exposed her to an unfamiliar world.

No.

It was a world they tried to keep her from.

"To protect me," she realized. Unable to keep the hurt at bay, tears sprouted once more. With her newfound knowledge, Ran was at a loss as to how to proceed.

"I'm so weak," she admitted, looking to the ground as Eisuke faced her. The rough patches of dirt are covered in a faint hue of reddish earth, like the crimson liquid that stained the rain-soaked ground on that fateful day.

"I don't know what I need to do. I am…afraid," Ran whispered, clenching her hands into a fist.

Naive to the world. Redundant. A burden to Shinichi and Ai-chan, who were adamant about keeping her out of it. Ran thought she could handle the darkness they faced every day, but after stepping into it, she felt a fear she had never felt before.

A fear so deliberating. It left her despondent.

"We all are," Eisuke replied. Ran turns to face him. He wore an ironic grin, displaying none of the innocence he so often portrayed. "There is no hiding the fact," he continued before leaning into the bench to look at the sky. "It doesn't matter how well planned out an operation is. People will die."

Eisuke made no attempt to mask the truth. There was no attempt to hide it under white lies that Ran was so accustomed to hearing. Of comforting words given to her by Shinichi. Ai-chan. The professor. Akai-san. Jodie-sensei. Her father or mother.

The heaviness settled. An uncomfortable weight weighs heavily on Ran, and she struggles to comprehend the truth so blatantly displayed.

"I'm sorry," Ran apologized, realizing that her emotions might have burdened the boy more. Like Shiho, Eisuke had lived in darkness. She, a person who had lived a life free from it all, had no right to complain.

Increasingly embarrassed, she was about to leave when she heard a cry. Ran immediately, glancing at the children. Ayumi had tripped and was on the ground. About to rush forward to assist, Ran stiffened when Eisuke wrapped his hand around her wrist.

"Eisuke?" she asked when he smiled, silently pointing to the girl before them.

Trying to pick herself up from the ground, Ayumi had tears in her eyes. She had fallen knee-first, and it looked like it hurt a lot. She fumbles momentarily while Mitsuhiko and Genta gather around her, unsure of what to do. After some time, the little girl stood up, still suffering from the injury. While sniffling, Ayumi rubbed her hands over her eyes before stubbornly kicking the ball that stood in her way. She smiles, calling Genta and Mitsuhiko over. The boys, relieved, laughed as they carried on.

There should have been nothing significant about the scene. Nevertheless, the little girl's act of bravery stirs something within Ran.

"It's ok to feel weak," Eisuke whispered. "It's ok to cry, to bemoan circumstances you have no control over, to complain," he gives her a gentle smile. "But what's important is what you do later."

"And the Ran, I know," Eisuke blushes, looking at the children running ahead. "Though she cries and falters…has always stood up for what is right."

"Eisuke, I—"

"Your problems are valid, too," he muttered.

"I…" Ran blushes, unable to look at him. "I don't mean it that wa—"

"Your problems matter to me," Eisuke squeezes her wrist firmly, forcing her to listen.

"I will always support you," Eisuke pulls her close. "I will always listen to you, just like you have." He wraps around her, the warmth of his body erasing her fear.

"What do you want to do now, Ran?" Eisuke interjects, not allowing her to wallow in her pity. His determined stance and knowing look pierced through, and she took a sharp breath.

He—

Courage.

Believed in her.

"I want to know," she was determined. "I want to learn more…but most of all," she steps through the uncertainty.

Courage is the word of Justice. It means the quality of mind that enables one to face apprehension with confidence and resolution.

"I want to help."

Yes.

Ignorance was her curse. It was a dreaded entity she would have to live with for the rest of her life. There were mysteries that would be kept from her. Things that she would never understand.

But if that were the case, then…

She'll face it all the same.

Studying the blonde-haired woman hooked to a beeping machine hidden beneath the white sheets, Ran braced herself.

Shinichi had ordered her to stay out of the private ward. However, Ran insisted that she accompany him. Still ringing in her ears are her words from Eisuke on that fateful day. The bespectacled boy kept his promise, listening to her as she listened to him. No, he wasn't a hero...Ran glanced toward Shinichi with a wry smile. Instead, it was a partnership, a companionship. Eisuke stood her equal.

"Hey," Shinichi, in his child-like form, glares at the woman. "Hey, wake up. I know you're conscious!"

Shinichi was grudgingly angry. "Cut the act," he demanded, "Why didn't you stop Shiho from shooting you!"

There it was. The cause of his rage. There was a festering impatience. His concern for the girl outweighs any decorum of manners. Shinichi kicked the bed uncharacteristically like a gangster she'd seen on television. Ran might have scolded him if the situation had not been so dire.

"Wake up!" he continued, and Ran stopped him.

"Shinichi, I don't think that would—"

A dry chuckle echoed through the room. While Shinichi glared at the bed before them, Ran stiffened. Pools of olive green gazed lazily at the shrunken detective, then at Ran. There was a moment of surprise in her pale features, but then it faded, blending into a visage of indifference.

"Why should it matter, boy?" she spoke. Her voice was hoarse from the lack of use. The mirthless thin-lipped smile appeared to aggravate Shinichi even further. "Is there any point in keeping me alive?"

Wanting to lash out, Ran watches Shinichi compose himself. Her childhood friend's fist was so tightly wound that it appeared swollen.

"I will never let you die," Shinichi snorted.

"My?" Vermouth playfully jests. "I'm honored."

"You'll have to answer for your crimes. You don't deserve peace for what you've done," he continued, and she laughed.

"So, you're keeping me here…to satisfy your perverse sense of justice?"

Vermouth glanced at Shinichi as he fell silent. "Please excuse me, but I cannot stomach revisiting the past. I'm tired, so I'd like to sleep if you allow it. Even prisoners have rights," she smirks, "Do they not?"

"Shinichi..." Ran muttered uncertainty, knowing that the woman was just trying to get a rise out of him. Purposely goading. The nature of their relationship is too confusing to even fathom.

"A monster," Ran recalled Ai-chan telling her during one of her visits to the professor's house. Ran found the girl in the basement, mumbling incoherently as she suffered a bout of nightmares. Later, Ran sat with the shrunken scientist, gently rubbing his hands to comfort her. While Ai-chan hadn't spoken much about what the woman had done to her, if Ran had to guess—

The faint scars, which Ran sometimes chanced upon, told a morbid story. One that Ran was, again, ignorant about.

Shinichi had told her snippets about the woman. Vermouth. Sharon Vineyard. The white-haired man who had tried to kill her—whom she had saved.

Who had shot Ai-chan at that dockyard and saved Ran from being killed by a sniper.

A woman of dualities. She was—

"An orphan who was abandoned in a foreign land by their birth parents," Shinichi begins. "The girl had been adopted. Raised in a house in Minakami, Gunma. Growing up, she had a relatively happy childhood. She lived a respectable life, according to others. It was obvious that she was loved. She grew up. She married, and she had a child."

"What do you want?" Vermouth asks in a flat tone. "What are you trying to say?"

"She had pledged her allegiance. She loved him with all her heart. He was her father. He was everything to her."

Vermouth goes still, glaring daggers at the detective who carried his own vicious smirk this time.

"But in an odd twist of fate," Shinichi reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled note. The writing on it appears smudged. There was no doubt that it had been soaked through, then dried. "The same woman harbors resentment and seeks to kill the father she once loved."

"Your efforts are laughable at best," Vermouth sneered. With a wave, the woman dismissed Shinichi. "If you think that'll get a rise out of me, you're sorely mistaken. Now lea—"

"Why did you save Mary-sera?" Shinichi interjects before she can finish. "Why did you prevent the Organization from shooting her? What made you give her the drug? What made you push her into the river? Why did you give her," Shinichi raised the note he held, "this—that leads directly to your childhood home?"

As Shinichi glared at the woman indignantly, Ran held her breath. Suddenly, laughter erupts in the soulless white room. With ominous mirth, dead green pools studied them.

"The organization is finished," she shrugged, "None of this is…my concern."

"Rum is still out there," Shinichi revealed. As soon as he mentioned his name, her shoulders went rigid. "Gin's prison has been broken into. Security has been breached. Vermouth, your objectives...are far from complete."

"Like I said," the woman emphasized, "Not my concern."

"You—" Shinichi losing any semblance of patience. Grabbing his shoulder, Ran stops him.

It was fruitless. They were beating a dead bush.

Ran noticed it as soon as she peered into the woman's eyes. Defeated, hopeless. There was a wavering emptiness within that carried a sorrow that stained everything it touched.

Despite the monstrosities and crimes she had committed, Ran only saw—

"We can get the answers later," Ran told Shinichi, who groaned in frustration. Shinichi grumbled as he made his way to the exit, accepting that she was right. As Ran followed suit, she paused, lingering by the doorway as she stole one last glance at the woman.

"Move it, Angel!"

Once again, Ran recalls the woman from that fateful night. The desperation in her voice. It lodged deep in the heart. The woman's resolve crumbles. Unable, for some reason, to shoot Ran, Vermouth had spared her and, in the process, protected her from what came after.

"I know what you've done," Ran does not know if she would worsen the situation. "As for your crimes, you must answer for them. But…"

She swallows her apprehension.

"Thank you for saving Shinichi's life and sparing mine. Hopefully," Ran smiled faintly, "you'll, at least, find some peace."

Ran sighed as the woman remained silent. As she prepared to leave, the woman stopped her.

"Ojou-chan," Vermouth whispered, a bitter smile flashing across her lips, and she turned to Ran. "It's always you, isn't it?"

Later, they sat beside Vermouth. A voice recorder captured the secrets from Vermouth's lips as Shinichi recorded them.

"What do you mean?" Shinichi's shock was palatable.

"It is exactly as it is," Vermouth continued.

"But…that is just…" Ran is having a hard time accepting the motives of a one-eyed devil.

Vermouth leans back against the bed and peers at the white ceiling.

"To think that all motives are grounded in reality is a mistake everyone makes. Madness, you see," she shrugs, "Is fundamentally illogical."

The beeping of her life support machines gets louder. The dreaded tone was unable to drown out the revelations she had just spoken of.

"I was brainwashed. Led to belief in the lunacy he talked about. Indoctrinated into his silly fantasies, blinded by the promise he envisioned. We all were."

"His purpose…motives all lie within," Shinichi gasped. "A corpse within a man!"

"Yes, Kudou Shinichi," Vermouth smirks, "So what do you want to confirm?"

Shiho takes it back. Shinichi was not like his mother. Although inheriting her confidence and arrogance, he lacked something she had in abundance. A copious amount of energy.

While dragging Shiho across the shop floor, Yukiko raved over the variety of foods on offer. The list in Shiho's hands—forgotten. Apparently, lists and the woman did not get along.

"What about this, Ai-chan!" she exclaimed, raising a dripping packet. It was in the seafood section, and all Shiho saw were the grotesque combination of eyes. Fish eyes, to be exact.

"For a grill?" Shiho questioned.

"What's the problem?" Yukiko commented, dumping the packet into the basket Shiho was carrying. Amused by it, Shiho merely followed along. There was no stopping Yukiko—the professor simply had to make do with whatever she bought. The last-minute party he was planning, Shiho hadn't the faintest idea.

As the basket filled with various slices of meat, they emerged into the fruits section. Yukiko picked up a rather bizarre-looking spiky green fruit. It carried a pungent smell, and Shiho was sure it was not native to Japan.

"A durian," Yukiko read the label casually, her eyes gleaming in wonder. "Oh, I've heard of this. Apparently, it's really sweet!"

And stinks.

"How about it?" Yukiko grinned. Having no heart to discourage the woman, Shiho smirks sardonically. "Why not? We can't just stop at the fish eyes, can't we?"

For a moment, the woman's bubbly smile falters and reveals, behind the airheaded mask—a sly smirk bearing the Kudou's trait. "No, we can't," she agreed. "An opinion is in order."

Pulling out her phone, the woman dialed a number over the loudspeaker and was greeted by an irate detective.

"What is it, woman!" he snapped, "Don't you know I'm busy?!"

Yukiko pouted as her hands moved to her hips. "Is that how you greet your mother? After everything we've done for you," she fake cries, and Shinichi snorted.

"I am in a hospital. Stop calling me."

Shiho tensed at his mention. She grips the basket tighter as her throat goes dry. He was at—

"It's of utmost importance!" Yukiko states.

"What?"

"What do you think of durian on a grill?" the woman asked, grinning widely.

"Stop wasting my time on such trivial matters!"

"How can you call it trivial!" Yukiko protested.

An argument between a boy and his mother descends into childishness. "Do you lack common sense?" Shinichi concluded when she again asked for an opinion. As the line cuts, Yukiko huffs and turns to Shiho with a long pout. "The nerve of that boy," she complained, grasping Shiho by the shoulder and pulling her close. "Can you believe it? He's so mean to me!"

The woman whines as Shiho struggles to reconcile with the information she learned.

Shinichi was in the hospital. He was probably talking to her.

"He doesn't cook anyway," Yukiko snaps, "he's so rude and inconsiderate! Wouldn't you agree, Ai-chan!"

Her throat tightens as she recalls the events from a week ago when he held her in the abandoned cafe. The gentleness of his touch and voice. Despite what she had done, his kindness was unwavering.

"He isn't," the words escaped her lips.

"Huh?" Yukiko asked.

"He isn't…all that," she whispered. A grin appears on Yukiko's lips. It widens considerably when she pokes Shiho lightly. "You don't have to defend him~" the woman teased. The happiness in her eyes is unmistakable, and Shiho again hosted an ache.

Silently, it throbs. Like waves striking against rocks, the guilt came crashing down. She had been unfair to him. Throwing back Shinichi's gift, crushing him with her words and actions, pushing him away.

She had hurt him.

Like everything else, she was a wimp, unable to deal with the aftermath.

As she stared at the ground, she tightened his grip on the basket handle, breathing a shaky sigh.

Suddenly, fingers pinched her cheeks, pulling them painfully. Shiho tried to break away, but the woman held on. With her face close to hers, Yukiko regards her solemnly.

"Yukiko-san?"

"You can't change the past," the woman started, "But you need to forgive yourself."

When Shiho saw Yukiko's expression, she nearly dropped the basket. Those azure eyes resemble Shinichi's, carrying wisdom within them.

"There is no turning back," Yukiko continued, not letting her go. The pinch became a gentle caress."The choice you make, it is yours, and yours alone. Wallowing in guilt is not an excuse. Anger is not a tool for justification," the woman tightened her hold, "You're family loved you, Ai-chan. The life they have given to you," she paused, a tentative smile spreading across, "Live it."

Lips parted, Shiho remained still, unable to turn away from those straightforward eyes.

"Don't keep him waiting," Yukiko added.

"I'm sorr—"

Fingers pressed to her lips, the woman stops her. "Not to me," Yukiko says as she links her arms around Shiho and drags her through the shop floors.

"Enough serious talk," she said. "Let's get the ingredients, shall we," turning around, she beams cheekily.

"Shiho-chan."

Ran seemed dazed. It had been a busy day between going to the hospital and running errands for the professor. A bag of charcoal they bought on the way back rested in Ran's arms.

She was tired. Their conversation with a weakened blonde-haired woman, awoken from a coma, must have shocked her. Ran was still coming to terms with the organization.

Shinichi felt guilty, burdening her with something she shouldn't have to deal with.

"Ran?" he nudged her, and she smiled weakly.

"I'm ok, Shinichi," she said before gesturing to the scene.

The sun was halfway down, the air crisp and filled with the aroma of roast meats and vegetables. The glow from the evening light baths the professor's courtyard in an orange cadence. Shinichi spots her first. Standing beside his energetic mother, Shiho smiled slightly as she chopped the vegetables.

It was a rare sight. The shrunken scientist usually occupies the professor's garage after returning from that torrid night. Every attempt to talk was avoided. The weight in his pocket is a telling reminder of where they stood. Taking a deep breath, he approached. Jodie-sensei and Akai greet him with giant smiles. As soon as the children saw him, they rushed over. Genta slapped his back hard.

"Where did you go?" they protested. He was forced to explain himself as they chased him through the courtyard. Shinichi is unable to speak with the scientist again. Later, he finds himself seated beside Yusaku. The man munched happily on the mushrooms his wife grilled for him. He also had a bizarre mixture of assorted meats on his paper plate. Shinichi picks up the fish eye with a rather grotesque expression. He narrowed his gaze as his father chewed on it.

"Let me guess…" he deduced. As Shinichi tossed the eye onto the grass, Yusaku chuckled lightly. "Kaa-san didn't follow the list."

"Well, at least the beef tongue is good," Yusaku said. "You should try it."

"Thank you very much, but I'm done with Kaa-san's bizarre ingredients," he grumbled, lifting up the slice and tasting it with disdain. It was good; to his dismay, his father was right.

"How was the visit?" Yusaku inquired later as they lapped up the normal silence. As usual, his perceptive father reads his body language perfectly. Shinichi gave a heavy sigh. "It was what we expected," he pokes at the meat. "The black organization is merely a cover for a madman."

Yusaku regards the information with interest. "I guess we're discussing the one-eyed monster," Yusaku stated, while Shinichi glanced wearily at Shiho, who was now being harassed by his mother. The woman forced the girl to hold strange-looking fruits. She has become Yukiko's favorite. His mother taking a special interest in her.

"Two brothers, born and destroyed in a fire that raged around the world," Shinichi elaborated, telling his father what he learned in Hiroshima. "An origin point. He had no qualms about anything else. His objective—exceedingly clear," Shinichi paused. Father and son look at each other solemnly.

"He won't be easy to beat," Yusaku concluded.

"That depends," Shinichi continued, poking at the meat on his plate once more. "Gin will be moved."

Days ago, the plan was discussed. Furuya Rei and Akai Shuichi put their feud aside as they worked on the operation.

"The location where he is kept is no longer secure, and we suspect more is happening. The information was probably leaked by a mole in the FBI. We can't confirm that, but Akai-san is investigating it now."

"Move? At such a vulnerable time," Yusaku questioned.

"It will happen in a week," Shinichi stated, "It is the only option we have now. This is why—"

Shinichi smirked, "We need to be ready for anything."

With a rare gesture of physical affection, Yusaku rubs Shinichi's hair thoroughly.

"Stop, I'm going to lose my hair," Shinichi protested as Yusaku dragged him before pushing him forward. He almost trips but is caught and steadied. They were in a quiet spot. Maple trees, blocking them from the others, rustled as the wind blew past. Astonished, he pulls back from the auburn-haired scientist. Behind the girl, his mother stands. "Thought you might appreciate it," his mother winked at him. Shinichi gaped at his parents.

"Have fun, kids," Yukiko teased, "Don't flirt too much~."

"Shut up, old woman," Shinichi snapped, realizing his mistake. He flinched at her piercing blue eyes. He was saved just in time by his father. Yusaku held back the woman about to give him a good beating.

He sighed in relief, then tensed again at the girl beside him. Out of the pit, straight into the fire indeed. The awkwardness persisted, and Shinichi found it difficult to start. There were so many things he wanted to say, but when he looked into her forest-green eyes, he found himself lost for words.

"Meat," she breaks the silence, shoving a paper plate into his hands. He glances at it, then at the blush appearing on her cheeks. Uncomfortably, her lips twitched, and she looked out of place. It was the first time he had seen her in this manner, and he couldn't help but smile.

"What about it?" he teased.

"Do you want it or not," she snapped, and he grabbed the paper plate.

"Sure, I'll eat…your meat."

A chuckle comes from his lips as she smacks him. The tension dissipates slightly, and he sits with her on the grass, eating the food she'd given him. Watching the laughing children tease the professor who had burnt a series of prime cuts. Akai shakes his head. The FBI agent, who was more proficient with charcoal, had shooed them away. Jodie-sensei poked him, teasing the agent whose eyebrows twitched. As Ran served some FBI and PSB officers, Yukiko and Yusaku Kudou flirted, feeding each other.

A pleasant calm settled. The orange hue of the sky deepened to a lovely shade of pink and purple. A breeze ruffled the leaves as they rustled and fell, auburn bangs dancing in the wind, green eyes unfocused. "How's the operation coming along," she asked.

"As expected, messy in some places, smooth in others," he replied. "Your role will be pivotal," a wry smirk flirts to his lips. "If you stick to the plan, that is."

She flinched. Shinichi tried to stop but was unable to. His frustration towards the situation she put them in a week ago took root. Something ugly emerges from within. A potent sense of dread kept him awake in the following nights.

"What made you do it?" Shinichi muttered. "Did you know how worried I was?"

Bitter feelings left a lingering pang. "You're right. I'll never understand."

"I—" she tried but went still when he pulled out his locket from his pocket.

He couldn't help himself. "I'm not sure what I could have done. I don't know what…you need. All I want is for you to be safe. But…I couldn't reach you. And—"

"You," Shinichi chuckles dryly, exhausted. "Left me."

Several things could have gone wrong that night. What if she had pulled the trigger instead? What if Jodie-sensei hadn't realized it in time? What if they haven't found her in the cafe? What if she simply…disappeared?

There were so many what-ifs—scenarios that could have happened, triggering a primal fear that left him in a constant state of anxiety.

Green eyes linger on a locket as tension returns. Her features are hidden by the shadows of the coming night.

"They killed my family," she finally whispered, "I couldn't move on. I wanted revenge. I wanted it to stop."

"Shiho—"

"I almost did it," she stood with her back to him, hands held behind her, staring at the sky, "but..."

As his fingers curled around the locket, she fell silent.

"I couldn't, Shinichi."

"Why?" he asked quietly.

A soft sigh escapes her lips, and a wry smile spreads across her lips as she glances back at him. Her eyes, pools of emeralds, held a touch of mystery, reflecting the fading glow of a setting sun, accentuating her face's subtle contours, revealing the delicate lines of unspoken emotions.

"An annoying fly," her wistful gaze conveying the fragile dance between heartache and—hope, "was in the way."

He felt something stir within him as her words wrapped around him like a gentle breeze.

She could have fired the gun. She could have disappeared. She could have pushed him away. However, in that omnipresent place, in the darkness, faced with a choice…she stopped. And now—

As his heart swelled, he was overcome with emotion.

"They're gone," she stares back at the changing skies, "Everyone I've ever cherished is gone."

Taking a step forward, Shinichi hung the locket over her neck.

"Idiot," Shinichi grabs hold of her shoulders before turning her around.

With a smile on his face, he places his forehead on hers. "You know how tenacious I am," his promise deepens, "I will never leave you alone."

"Like a cockroach," she muttered.

"Yes," he chuckled. "A cockroach."

Then he enveloped her in a tender embrace, hugging her from behind. Her slender frame trembled, eyes filled with tears that mirrored the fading light. Holding her tightly, he remained steadfast as she breathed in sharply.

"Shinichi," she whispered, "I'm…sorry."

Her admission soothes the underlying fear. And he breathes a sigh, his own tears threatening to fall—he holds back, instead pressing his face against the crook of her neck. Shinichi takes in her scent, her warmth. "As you should be," he chided, "Idiot."

"Ah!" The moment was disrupted by irate children who raced forward. They were ripped apart. With hands on hips, the children eyed Shinichi with upset expressions.

We planned this party to cheer Ai-chan up! Why are you making her cry!?" Ayumi demanded.

"Yeah, Conan-kun!" Mitsuhiko pouted, "What are you guys doing here so secretly?!"

"Were you guys," the freckled hair boy continued, gasping, "Hugging!?"

"Are you ok, Haibara," Genta eyed Shinichi with disdain as he protested against the unfair treatment, "Where does it hurt? Did Conan hurt you!?"

"Hey!" Shinichi snapped.

"Remember Haibara! The Detective boys never keep anything from each other!" the chubby boy asserts.

Glaring at him, the children then turned to the girl for answers. A soft chuckle escaped Shiho's lips, and the children looked at her in shock. A sad smile forms as she wipes away her tears.

"Edogawa-kun isn't responsible," the scientist, not escalating the situation as she usually would.

"Then!?" Genta demanded.

"I miss them," she confessed. Shinichi held his breath. "My family."

For a second, the children stood motionless. Her words were not lost on them. There's no doubt they guessed it. Haibara Ai, a girl who arrived unexpectedly, lived with the professor instead of her parents.

As far as they knew, Edogawa Conan had only shared fragments of her past, and Haibara Ai never elaborated. As a result, they never asked, but hearing it from her lips was something else altogether.

Shinichi wasn't sure if they were overjoyed or—

Shiho was crushed into a tight group hug.

"Ai-chan!" Ayumi cried, embracing the auburn-haired scientist. Genta and Mitsuhiko circle the two girls, hugging them. Shinichi eventually joins in, huddling within; the warmth spreads. As Shiho closed her eyes, a single tear trickled down her cheek. A peace descended, and Shinichi looked to the sky, the anxiety buzzing in his chest, ebbing away into the light.

She was back at the cafe where her sister frequented. There is a familiar scent of brewing coffee and tea in the background. Her sister's special blend of Yuzu and Earl Gray tea filled her teacup. The place was empty. An ephemeral light envelops the area, filling it with a strange dreamlike warmth. It was silent but peaceful. Slowly, Shiho drank from the cup. The taste was exactly what she remembered, bitter yet sweet at the same time. The nostalgia hit her almost immediately, and she smiled, resting her arms on the table as time passed.

She was not alone.

They were seated a few tables down from her. She could hear the faint laughter of a child-like Akemi and the familiar voices of Elena Miyano and Atsushi Miyano. The scent of burning candles was accompanied by singing. Their voices were muffled, barely audible, but joy radiated around them.

Then the music stopped, they turned towards her, and she felt a longing she could not explain. "Okaa-san," she whispered, "Otou-san..." Her parents rested their hands on the shoulders of a childlike Akemi. Her sister, eight years old, looked at her. "Onee-chan."

"I've missed you."

Her desire to be with them was so strong. She rose, taking a step forward, then paused. Slowly, her sister shook her head.

The living carries the memories of the dead.

Acceptance washes over her grief, and she looks to them. They smiled, and it hurt. But—

"I have to go," she whispered, turning around and walking to the exit. This would be the last time. Tears fell softly and—

"Shiho," Warm hands pressed against her back, and she was pushed forward.

"Live."

"Haibara," Shinichi called to her as he squeezed her hand. The children were holding charade cards while Ran played games before them. Yukiko and Yusaku talked in the kitchen and drank wine with Akai and Jodie-sensei. The professor is eating another bout of dessert.

"You fell asleep," Shinichi told her as she blinked. They sat on the purple sofa in the living room. The BBQ party had ended. Her eyes focused on Shinichi before she tightened her grip.

"Shiho?" he whispered softly.

She could still feel their touch. Despite being a dream, it felt so real. The ache returns, then dissipates when Shiho felt the locket nestle against her chest.

Yukiko was right. Anger, guilt, and sorrow were not excuses. There was no escaping it. As she faced her demons in that insidious private ward, Shinichi reminded her of her purpose. There was no way she could repay him. No. She could never, but—she had a choice.

"Shinichi," she whispered, leaning against his shoulder as they watched the children, Ran, and the professor, not caring if they were seen. They huddled together as he rested his head against hers.

"Tadaima." The words echoed louder than expected, unwittingly leaving her lips. It was also heard by the children, Ran, and the professor. She paused when she saw the all too happy faces of her new family. Blushing slightly at her blunder. Laughing, they teased her. Not knowing how to respond, she bit back her retorts.

But as they sat together later, drinking hot chocolate under the bright fluorescent lights of the professor's house, Shiho finally realized.

She was, indeed—home.

Episodes used:

Episode 345

I apologize for the 3-week hiatus. Unfortunately, someone had died in my family, and I was busy with the funeral. Again, thanks for your patience, reviews, and feedback. We're now approaching the last segment of the story, and I hope you'll enjoy it. See you next week :), and I hope you have a great week ahead.