A/N: There were two chapters posted today. Please click to go back one chapter if you came here by skipping to the most recent update.
Thank you for your reviews!
Approach of Absolute ZERO
by fluxfiction
6. Poker Face (Truth)
(Gin and Vodka in pursuit of Kudou Shin'ichi's ghost! What does "that person" have to say about emergencies...?)
"Set direction?" says Sonoko. "Your dad's in Hokkaido to help film the TV adaptation of a crime novel?"
Ran nods and explains the strange directions her household has taken in the last few months. Something about Kogorou's mannerisms must make him great to work with, as the latest offer has come out of his consulting arrangement with Producer Taruoka.
"He can't write, and it's not that he has a great imagination, either," Ran wonders aloud.
"Isn't it obvious?" Sonoko asks absently, still checking reviews for a nearby waffle shop. "He's great at building up stories."
Ran's mouth is already open to disagree when the words sink in. She thinks of her father's concrete flare for drama and his obsession towards catching criminals. "Oh."
Before Sonoko can say anything about her waffles, their path is cut off.
"Young misses," says an old man, coming to meet them from where he'd been in front of a sign. The softness in his voice grasps their attention, and kind eyes smile behind round eyeglasses, "If you're intending to have some sweets, would you care to do some good?"
"Eh?" says Sonoko.
In unison, the two girls look to the side and the characters of a blood donation centre come into view. The screen of Sonoko's smartphone goes black as she pales. "I'm... I think I'll pass."
"I'll donate," says Ran.
With the end of the year approaching, the Mouri Detective Agency has lost two of the three occupants that called it home. Her days have grown fuller, not emptier, schoolwork and study and time with Sonoko and Sera filling in time which used to be for taking care of others, and she thinks of the boy who lived with them for a time. She thinks of an emergency ward and small, pale Conan.
The old man smiles kindly, his fingers trembling like he's approached so many people that day and continually been denied.
"I'll donate," she says again, "I know my blood can save a life."
Ran turns to the automatic glass door, and the old man follows her inside.
The man known as Gin surveys a fading vapor trail smeared across cool air and notes, with no real fervour, that winter has come around again.
"Vodka," he says.
"What is it, bro?"
"This Kudou Shin'ichi... who is he?"
"One of those brats calling themselves teenage detectives. Remember the rollercoaster murder with the chick and her ex? He solved that."
Gin recalls the amateur assassination with distaste which others might reserve for overcooked cabbage. He remembers the boy now, those sharp blue eyes which see too clearly, too much.
"Idiot stuck his head into our business," Vodka continues, "then you came and taught him what it was to be stupid."
"The experimental poison."
"Exactly! He vanished overnight. We killed him."
"He was dead until he appeared today to meet the child who was last in contact with Irish."
A small, grey bird lands on the sidewalk. It hops along the concrete and appears to cock its head at the occupants inside the black 356A. The air outside buzzes from the crowds of people, yet between Gin and Vodka, there is only silence.
"It's odd," says Gin, examining its beady black eyes, Korn and Kir yet to deliver a new update, "That this Kudou appeared now... How did he fool us into believing his death?"
"His house had been abandoned."
"Where does he live?"
Vodka looks the surname up.
"Here, bro." In the laptop, the house next to Kir's positional beacon lights up. "The Kudou Family's mansion is next to the house of that inventor, Agasa Hiroshi."
Inventor. Neighbours. "Who checked his house?" says Gin.
Vodka navigates to their records.
"No way," Vodka blurts instead of an answer. For Gin's suspicions, that alone is confirmation enough. The boy detective was dosed with the experimental poison which means only one person would have been sent to assess the result.
"I want the inventor's list of patents," orders Gin. "Look for transmitters or tracking devices."
"Found 'em. He's made them both."
Gin does not forget the day that somebody had taken him for a fool and tried to bug his 356A. That 'somebody' who returned a second time to plant a transmitter on Kir. They were devices he'd attributed to Mouri Kogorou when the truth was instead far simpler, much less innocuous.
Gin found a golden strand of hair belonging to a woman with intimate knowledge of their drugs.
"Contact Kir," says Gin. "Have the inventor summon Kudou and kill him as soon as he finishes the call. I want video and audio. Monitor all entry and exit routes around both houses."
A beating of feathers. The bird takes to the sky.
"They worked together," Gin declares, the conclusion obvious. "Kudou Shin'ichi... and Sherry."
"So you're saying," Shin'ichi summarises from outside an ice-cream parlour, sitting across from a headache, "The reason major department stores in Japan have Kaitou KID heist procedure training is because you once stole something and the ability to demonstrate strong security maturity against Kaitou KID has become a central part of ensuring an owner's retail reputation?"
"Yup." KID takes another bite out of his two-scoop chocolate ice cream cone. "If you ever want to tell which buildings have regular drills or hired a security consultant, easy. Look at the number and setup of jewellery stores and high-value shops. Watch that guard there."
Edogawa Conan spins away from a thief dressed as his Shin'ichi-niichan and looks. His gaze follows the uniformed guard. Then he sees the guard exchanging some sort of passphrase before passing another.
"Their code changes every twelve hours," KID divulges.
"Twelve hours? You'd still be able to—"
Instead of walking away, the guards show something to each other. Conan frowns and taps his glasses, but even with zoom, the object is mostly-hidden. "What's that?"
"Body temperature monitor."
"Eh?"
"Baseline body temperatures are different between people." There's an echoing crunch. Somehow KID has demolished half of the dessert in the span of seconds. Shin'ichi looks away from the thief eating with his teenaged appearance; he'll lose his appetite. "Of course, it wouldn't be more than an inconvenience against a genius thief like myself."
"A passive monitoring combined with a passphrase, huh?"
KID is licking his fingertips when Shin'ichi looks back.
Propping up his head on one palm, Shin'ichi pointedly extends a tissue, which the thief accepts. "What did you steal, anyway?"
"Christmas."
"You can't be serious."
"I'm hurt, tantei-kun. Hold out your hand—" at KID's gesture, Shin'ichi does without thinking twice. KID grins, "—if you want my help."
Shin'ichi's face grows hot. He snatches his hand away as something is dropped into his palm, and is distracted before he can examine what it is.
In however long it takes for Shin'ichi to regain his wits, KID has balled up his used tissue in one fist. From his fist he pulls out a square of blue fabric. He drops the fabric onto the table and sets up his trick. "One, two, three...!"
The blue napkin is pulled up to reveal a tall stack of calling cards, an illusion defying common logic.
"Though I'm a KID, even kids can be serious."
Though the Kudou Shin'ichi disguise doesn't show it, the boy called Edogawa Conan can clearly hear the presence of KID's phantom grin.
They're going up the shopping mall's central escalators, Shin'ichi absently glancing at ankles as if Vermouth would be hidden in the crowd, when the murmuring begins. KID-as-Shin'ichi pretends to notice his unexpected popularity and waves at a group of young teenage girls before winking and holding a finger to his lips for silence.
After the Sunflowers heist, Shin'ichi should have told the thief about pretending he died when he was killed.
"For someone who came because he 'had no choice', you are being helpful," Shin'ichi comments around the next corner.
"I have my reasons," responds KID.
"If you want me to be your assistant, I want the truth."
"I would think you owe me the truth of how you ended up like this, tantei-kun," KID remarks. "After all, there might be something else I should know about your 'little' situation."
Shin'ichi doesn't miss the quirk of KID's mouth. "Don't turn it around," he snaps.
"Why would I tell the truth to someone lying about his own existence?" As Shin'ichi flinches, KID turns him around and walks him to a corridor. "Here we are. Go and change now, Conan-kun."
Conan gives KID a dirty glance and pushes the door open to the children's washroom.
"This arc," explained KID, pointing along Conan's temples, "Your most recognisable feature. It adds power to your gaze, spooking wrong-doers with every stare. When I disguise myself as you, it's the foundation on which everything else is built. You don't have the training to change your expressions or your movements for the duration of a different face. So add these. Combining them with your limited acting skill, you'll have enough time to find an escape route."
To the chin prosthetic, he adds four new pieces of latex. The soft fleshy scraps looked like misshapen pancakes in Conan's fingers. He glues them on and blends in the edges under KID's instructions.
Shin'ichi blinks at the boy in the mirror with rounder cheeks and a bigger, almost distractingly large forehead. Curious, he puts on the glasses he'd set aside, and finally sees Edogawa Conan. But he has to examine his body language and deep into his expression.
He adds the elevator inserts into his shoes and removes the glasses. On one last check of his costume, he hesitates. Kazami might call... on behalf of the Public Security Bureau.
Shin'ichi weighs up the risks.
The Furuya phone is encrypted with his fingerprint, switched off, and placed deep inside his backpack.
KID isn't outside when he exits the toilet. Shin'ichi wanders, taking in the lines of shopfronts with their shiny glass windows. He spots a security guard in the same uniform as those highlighted by KID. As if that thought triggers another, he finds himself noting the security cameras in each store, the number of lights between each support pillar, and the dimensions of the tiled walkways while he traverses them.
He finds KID dressed as Kudou leaning over a railing, looking over a sixty-foot drop at something on ground level.
"Looking for something?" Shin'ichi asks.
"Just the right location to set up my show," KID answers.
Shin'ichi examines the look of concentration on the thief's face, so similar to candid photos of Kudou Shin'ichi deep in thought at a crime scene, and makes his decision.
"I'll tell you what happened," says Shin'ichi.
His doppelganger blinks twice, those full-sized lips briefly part, and it occurs to Shin'ichi that he's caught Kaitou KID in a moment of genuine surprise.
Oi oi. A small tick tugs at his eye. I'm not thatbad at sharing information.
The story goes quickly, evidence of how much he's thought through an explanation. He tells KID about following some men in black at Tropical Land, running home after being shrunk, and then being found by Ran at the Kudou house. He tells him the books which led to his 'Edogawa Conan' alias, and how he donned this false identity before living with the Mouri family, following Professor Agasa's advice.
"To find your bad guys?" KID asks.
"Don't judge me with my voice and face," mutters Shin'ichi. "Yeah. To get information on the ones that poisoned me. They'd come to find me if they knew I was still alive."
KID makes a curious sound and goes back to looking around. Shin'ichi looks up at the shopping mall's roof and glimpses blue through the skylight. Somehow, he's always imagined giving this explanation to Ran. After Haibara and Agasa manage to develop a permanent antidote; after he's gone back to his former life. It wouldn't be an apology. He doesn't need his mother's lectures to know that.
It wouldn't be an apology... but it would be...
"Haibara, I need you to find something. Miyano Elena and Bourbon are connected. How?"
"What's this, all of a sudden?"
"I know how to go back—back to Ran—without risking hers, or Uncle's, or anyone's life."
"And that is?"
"—listening, Kudou," comes a voice, his voice, from the mouth of a thief who has somehow both placed his life in danger by being spotted by Vodka, and one of the few lifelines which Conan has left in a situation he couldn't have planned for, "Give me some info about your bad guys. Something I can work with."
"You?" Shin'ichi asks, instantly suspicious.
KID makes a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat. "I'm helping. You. Tantei-kun. Again."
Conan sees it, then, something that Shin'ichi would have missed by virtue of having a taller eye-level at rest; though KID had his knees crossed, there's a tension in his long legs. Conan peers up at the thief through coloured contacts, cataloguing the other's body language in ways that the detective has never considered.
But this detective had spotted a purse with an exclamation mark design in one store.
Shin'ichi brings out Conan's smartphone from one of his pockets and watches the thief's face. He chooses his words.
He says, carefully, "Nine years ago, the world-renowned magician, Kuroba Touichi, passed away in an accident."
A beat.
Shin'ichi observes the tightening of long fingers, then brings up an article he found some fifteen minutes earlier. "Several months ago, I met one of Kuroba Touichi's assistants, Jii Kounosuke, in Hawaii. Jii-san was familiar with a suitcase designed like the one you transported me in to Singapore. And nine years ago, KID went on hiatus."
KID meets Shin'ichi's gaze. "What's this about, tantei-kun?"
For some reason, the deduction rests heavy in Shin'ichi's chest. He ignores whatever that feeling might be and speaks the words. "Are you like us?"
"Us?"
"Forced to take a drug."
"Huh?"
"The Apotoxin, Kuroba," Shin'ichi grits out. Haneda Kohji of the seventeen-year-old mystery is on the list of known APTX victims, making a death from nine years ago well within the timeframe of the drug's existence. Though Gin mentioned that night at Tropical Land that it would be the first time the drug was tested on humans, Bourbon all but confirmed that the Executives worked independently. And because KID had somehow always known, without familiarity nor explanation, that 'Conan' and 'Shin'ichi' were one and the same...
Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
"Nine years ago, the men in black forced you to take a drug. You didn't return, not because you wanted to, but you couldn't." He and Haibara are in grade school, while Sera Mary is a middle-school child. "It took nine years for your new body to grow enough before you could disguise as an adult." This conclusion drawn, Shin'ichi tilts his head. "The evidence is in your fingers."
"My fingers?"
"Leon Lowe pointed out the obvious while we were in Singapore. They're too soft to belong to a middle-aged man."
"Oh?" KID turns to face him with a toothy grin. "And how did you prove that Kuroba Touichi is Kaitou KID?"
Shin'ichi wills away a flush. "I called dad and challenged him until he gave me a straight answer."
That should have been it. It's been a long time since Shin'ichi has been wrong on a deduction. He watches KID's shoulders shaking and a flash enters his mind as soon as he meets the thief's eyes.
"Ah, I was wondering what you'd say." A chuckle escapes the thief's mouth. "I've been wondering what otherworldly deduction your brilliant mind would illustrate for me after all this time. And that's what the Great Detective of the East concluded?"
Shin'ichi's tiny hands curl into fists. "Where's the mistake?" he demands.
"Didn't I tell you? When you get involved, everything is a coincidence."
"How can knowing that my identity is Kudou Shin'ichi be a coincidence? That's not a reasonable conclusion—"
"You called me reasonable?"
Shin'ichi must have gaped, because KID is suddenly crouching and succumbing to a round of delighted laughter.
"You," KID wheezes. "You really think... you really... you? Bahahahaha!"
"Oi..."
"Kekeke! Did you forget when I told you? That Phantom Lady is my mother?"
Shin'ichi's flush defies every attempt to tamp it down. "Nobody knows her age or her identity...!"
"You really... you seriously thought I was my dad!"
"Your—your what?"
Shin'ichi watches as the young man straightens. He runs a hand through his hair, dislodging the combed, neatened style. Shin'ichi has never realised he carried himself with such self-importance until the person before him pushes back his hips and rolls his shoulders into a more natural position. An arc of intense focus along the thief's temples breaks, and when he smiles, his lips curl back to bare two rows of teeth, his eyes crinkle into crescents.
"'Bricks cannot be made without clay,'" he quotes—from Holmes, no less. Backed by a glass railing, illuminated by bright lights, he's mischief, festival fireworks, human trouble. A sparkler of an older brother; a whirlwind that Shin'ichi has known his whole life. "In fact, most of your deduction was on point. I merely follow in the great Kuroba Touichi's footsteps to trace those who brought about his passing."
Around the world which has rearranged itself into a new shape, one where the rivalry of Kudou Yuusaku and Kuroba Touchi has been passed in full to both sons, nothing changes. Gin and Vodka are hunting down a ghost. Security guards trained to outwit Kaitou KID remain on alert for signs of trouble. Shoppers and mall-goers mingle and admire store displays.
"Kuroba Kaito at your service." The older boy extends a hand and sweeps into a bow. "It's nice to meet you, Kudou Shin'ichi."
From inside Conan's backpack, Shin'ichi's phone rings.
When faced with their death, those who kill and those who don't are both alike. Kir has learned the value of killing in these streets of Tokyo, covered with anonymous individuals who cower in public and bare their throats.
"It's done," Kir announces over the line. "The inventor is dead."
"And it's confirmed?" queries Gin.
"Positive."
Gin glances towards Vodka, silently, and Vodka zooms into the live feed from a video stream. The video is courtesy of Kir, who had taken the equipment. A portly man lies prone through one of the windows and a woman's figure flashes in and out as Kir moves the body into a better position. She disappears for a moment, carrying a blanket, and the camera is moved to a new location.
She adjusts the camera to point at the road and hides it under cover.
"I had him call this 'Kudou Shin'ichi' to come for a visit, as you requested," she says. "I've found a space in the yard where I can hide, and shoot the visitor when he arrives. But I'm surprised."
"What?"
"If he's working with Sherry, you're not going to use him as bait?"
"Sherry is dead."
"Dead?"
"Vermouth and Bourbon's handiwork," Gin snaps. The knowledge that Sherry still met her end does not rid him of a strange discontent. Were Gin a speculative man, he might have made something of Vermouth's personal investment in the Miyanos. But he is not. Boss's favourite or not, Vermouth would have to be a fool to keep Sherry alive.
And if Vermouth is a fool, then she would already be dead.
Gin narrows his eyes, reminded about the witness who is very much alive; Kudou Shin'ichi. "Remember to stay out of sight. Wait for the body to cool before calling for an ambulance. I've already called Chianti to be your backup."
"Understood."
It takes only a second. In that second, he sees the glimpse of a face inside a red car. Blond, masculine. A casual glance in a moving vehicle so casual it must be coincidence.
Gin is not a speculative man. He deduces based on reason.
But he also follows a razor instinct.
"There's a red car," he says sharply. "Outside the fence. Where is it going?"
A pause. Kir moves. "Next door."
"The Kudou house?"
Pause. "Yes, I believe so."
"Kill the witness."
"Won't—" She never finishes her objection as Gin hangs up.
In the 356A's vintage leather interior, Vodka seems to raise his brow. "A witness, eh? Won't that make it harder to set this up as an attempt to steal our inventor man's blueprints. Just our luck. Want me to call Chianti? Or you think Kir can do it—"
"Quiet."
"Eh?"
The phone which had gone silent has started vibrating. On its glass screen is the simple text Unknown number.
Gin's phone only looks like an ordinary smartphone. Even Vodka understands that call could not belong to a random telemarketer. There is one number which members of the Organization don't save on their devices. And they never completed their original mission before Vodka spotted Kudou Shin'ichi, their new target.
Gin answers the phone, prepared to explain his detour to the Boss.
"Hello, Gin," greets the caller.
Confident, arrogant, with a hint of condescending, Gin recalls the voice like nothing else. It evokes a memory of an amateur assassination and sharp blue eyes which observe too much.
He meets Vodka's gaze with a wordless command to start the call tracing program.
"Kudou Shin'ichi."
A/N: Leave a review on your way out.
Next Conan's hint: Calling card