File One Hundred and Twenty-Nine: The Hardest Case to Crack
Like every other morning, Amuro Tooru stopped in front of Poirot for yet another ordinary day at work. Humming happily alongside a random song that had stumbled into his mind, he searched through his bag for the keys. Once retrieved, he smiled to himself, and went to finally open the door.
The smile was then eradicated from existence, gaze sharpening as he crouched over to inspect it closer. A few scratches, faint enough to be missed if one was not careful enough, were there, all around the keyhole.
Inside the café, everything was quiet and astonishingly normal. Amuro moved further inside, eyes dancing all around the place, fixating on each and every corner in search of any abnormalities. The stool closest to the entrance had moved an inch from the last time he had been there. There was a single leaf from the plants outside, right lying next to his feet. A few lemons had, inexplicably, gone missing as well.
Someone else had been here.
Thus, he spent the next half an hour crouching under tables, chairs, everything, yet found nothing. He stood back up, arms crossed over his chest, racking his brain for a place where he had forgotten to check.
Alas, the door opened. "Good morning, Amuro-san," said Azusa as she stepped inside. "Early as usual, I see."
A smile was ready on his lips the next instant. "I got here just a couple of minutes ago today," he said. She was paler today, noted the man, and her smile was a little weaker too. "Are you under the weather today, Azusa-san?"
"You can tell?" she sighed, patting her belly. "I went out with some friends to one of those cake buffets last night, and my stomach hasn't been the same since…"
"We should still have some extra milk from yesterday," he said. "It should be able to soothe your stomach ─ provided you aren't lactose intolerant, naturally."
She nodded and went out for the refrigerator without thinking about it twice. Once she was out of sight, he allowed himself to frown, pondering over the real problem at hand. There are no bugs planted anywhere, he reasoned. It wasn't a robber ─ I checked the cash register and tip box, and everything was exactly as it had been left…
That being the case, Amuro could not figure out, for the life of him, what this trespasser's intention might have been.
"Huh? Amuro-san…" Azusa was gazing down at her glass with a confused expression. "You mentioned you bought it yesterday, right?"
"Yes, I did."
Curious about her troubled expression, he walked over to see for himself what was going on, and sure enough, he realized it pretty quickly. Small white masses were floating in the rest of the liquid, causing the woman to frown profusely.
"It's curdled," she observed, eyeing the cardboard milk discarded at the end of the table. "Maybe it's past its expiration date?"
Amuro plucked the box and, to his surprise, there were still a few months left before it spoiled. Perhaps the store where he had bought it had not properly refrigerated it, he thought, at least until his eyes found a little, almost unnoticeable pin-sized prick. Immediately, he remembered the lemons that had been oddly missing today.
Certainly, you could add some lemon juice using a syringe without ever opening the box, Amuro thought. There are a couple of stores nearby where you can buy the kind used for food.
His lips curved into a smirk.
"Yeah. That may be the case," he said, moving away to discard it. "I'm sorry to bother you, Azusa-san, but could you please buy some more milk? I'm afraid I might have made the same mistake with all others…"
"I don't mind, but what are you going to do?"
"Me? Oh, nothing much. Besides making sure I didn't commit yet another mistake," he said. "Wouldn't want to get fired for messing up so much."
Like every other morning as of late, Mouri Kogoro ventured inside the inconspicuous café. A better word to say was probably 'stumbling', however, grumbling to himself as he closed the door behind him. Amuro had long concluded, and really, he didn't need his detective skills for this, that the man was simply not a morning person.
Azusa had voiced once that she couldn't figure out why he would get in here so early, before any client, if he obviously hated getting up so early this much.
"Good morning," the old man huffed. "Coffee, please."
"And orange juice!"
Kogoro stopped right on his tracks, blinking comically at the childish voice he had certainly not expected to hear in such a place. He began to turn, slowly because of the shock, but all he got to see was a blur rushing right past him.
From a table further away, innocent blue blinked behind thick glasses, legs were swinging back and forth in the air. On his face, a smile stretched from side to side ─ a sight he would probably consider absolutely adorable had he been anyone else, yet failed to fool him into believing he was nothing but an ugly little imp.
"Oh!" The boy's hand shot up. "I want some sandwiches, too!"
In two long strides, Kogoro got to the table in record time. His hand pressed against the surface of that table to glare at the kid up from close, who barely even reacted at all.
"Hey, brat," He lowered his voice to a soft, yet exasperated, whisper. "What's wrong with you?!"
"I don't trust you enough not to be a snitch if I were to ask for coffee."
"Not that!" He pressed a hand to his head, grumbling. "What are you doing here?"
"I was hungry."
"You just had breakfast."
"So did you."
Kogoro's glower intensified. "Listen here, you little-"
"Is something the matter, Mouri-sensei?"
"Ah, no, it's nothing…"
In between nervous laughing, and Amuro's innocent, clueless staring ─ not that Conan was buying it ─ Kogoro dragged back the chair in front of the child. Far too focused on the dangerous, potentially deadly organization member in the same room they were, he didn't notice Conan's eyes narrowing slightly, his frame stilling as if in anticipation.
But he did notice how those eyes began to widen as soon as he plopped down in the chair, appearing the most confused he had seen him in a while.
"Ah, you may want to be careful, Mouri-sensei," said Amuro, smiling radiantly. "I just repaired that chair this morning, but I'm not sure I did a good job."
Offering yet another polite smile, the blonde turned around to continue on his job. If he noticed the boy's eyes squinting in his form in suspicion, Amuro did not comment on that. Seeing there were more pressing matters, the great detective did not think about doing it either, simply shifting closer so that he could hiss at the boy without fearing being overheard.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" Kogoro frowned. "Go play with your friends and leave me alone."
"Like you have nothing better to do." Conan scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. "I saw you checking your phone for breakfast. You got a case, right?"
He did not even want to know how the brat deduced that. "Well, yeah," he admitted. "But the client said she wanted to meet me at night, so better luck next time, brat."
Conan's gaze found itself on his face, observing him long enough to be mildly uncomfortable. He must have grown bored over time, however, as it strayed away from it after a full second or so, wandering around the small café.
The jingle of the bell as the door opened invaded the stillness. Azusa smiled while welcoming an elderly lady and guided her onto her favorite seat.
Only Amuro's back was visible from where they sat, moving around as he prepared the coffee as requested. An orange had been settled apart, waiting patiently at the other corner of the small kitchen.
"You won't give up, will you?" commented Conan, his voice too soft. "Until Bourbon is as far away as possible, you'll keep on finding ways to get close to him. To investigate him."
Kogoro failed to answer. Not that Conan needed one ─ it was obvious as it was.
Sighing, he propped up his head in a fist, in a way that would fool any passerby into thinking he was merely bored out of his mind. Yet those eyes of his, still fixated on Amuro's form, told another story altogether.
"I don't like that," Conan said.
Admittedly, it took a moment for Kogoro to respond. "Me neither, kid," he said. "Me neither."
Not that it satisfied Conan in any way, and certainly, the look didn't disappear, rather intensified, when Amuro set a cup of coffee in front of the famous detective.
"Ah, thank you," Kogoro said.
Conan did not speak a single word, even if a glass of orange juice was just served for him, alongside a plate with a couple of sandwiches.
Kogoro raised the cup to his lips. Conan watched intently as the man took a large gulp.
Nothing happened. Conan was a little surprised by it, despite everything.
I was sure I changed the sugar with salt, thought Conan, absently grasping a sandwich from his plate. Did this guy… Slowly, he turned towards the aforementioned guy. … realize it from the start?
A drip of cold sweat rolled down his cheek.
Bourbon was smirking at him.
Conan took a bite.
And his hands flying to clamp his mouth, pure horror flashing behind his widening eyes. Kogoro let go of his coffee instantly, taking into the scene for a single heartbeat before he, too, acquired a similar expression.
"Conan, what's wrong?" he asked, concern pitching his voice just a little higher. Conan's eyes scrunched shut, so he wasn't particularly worried that the chair fell back as he shot up to his feet. "Hey, what is it?!"
The old lady had turned to see what was happening, and so had Azusa. Conan wasn't replying ─ his skin had adopted a rather sickly white shade.
Acting like this after a single bite… Kogoro felt his blood freezing solid at the notion. Amuro was watching them from a distance, even looking a little surprised ─ if that was to be believed, in any case. Couldn't it be… This guy…
Before he could think of doing anything, a little hand grasped the glass of orange juice, downing it to a half in a single gulp. Conan exhaled deeply, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve, looking thoroughly exhausted.
But not dying.
Kogoro wasn't sure of what had just happened.
"Conan-kun, are you alright?" Azusa came running, leaning slightly over the boy. "I didn't mess up on the recipe, did I?" Conan gave the woman a confused glance. She laughed nervously. "Amuro-san was trying to teach me how to prepare those sandwiches everyone loves, so I thought I could…"
It took an eternity for Conan to shake his head with a smile. "They are delicious, Azusa-san!" he praised. "It just went down the wrong pipe, that's all."
Kogoro slowly lowered to his chair, visibly displeased. Don't scare me like that, brat.
And the boy kept on wearing that smile, up until the moment her back was facing him, and only then, his expression sharpened. His half-eaten sandwich remained in his hands, as well as those dark, ball-shaped little pieces that definitely should not be there, mixed alongside the rest of the ingredients.
Raisins. Conan grimaced. I was pretty sure there were no raisins in these sandwiches.
From the other side of the room, he felt Amuro's sharp gaze piercing through his soul.
The thought of that man adding those in Azusa's preparation without her knowing worried him, yet knowing this man had, somehow, found out he hated raisins with a passion made his skin crawl.
The sun was settling already by the time Sato Miwako was free to sit at her desk at home, a cup of warm coffee sitting at her hands, sliding down her throat and settling comfortably onto her stomach. Despite it being summer, a contented smile found its way to her lips as she set the cup away, her gaze falling onto the loads upon loads of newspaper clippings she had read maybe about a dozen of times.
Because there had to be something she was overseeing. A clue that had eluded her completely, hiding in plain sight for her to eventually discover and gape at.
"Koyama Mamoru, 34, was arrested this morning under the suspicion of kidnapping and human trafficking. He is believed to be the prime suspect of a series of disappearances of children between the ages of three and five, yet only his implication to two of them have been confirmed thus far. His position as a preschool teacher has been said to be the way he got close to the victims, but it is yet to be confirmed by official sources."
That was what it said, she could probably recite the entire thing by heart if she proposed to, alongside with the front lines that came with the newspaper published the following day, which went something like 'Koyama Mamoru, guilty of child trafficking, found dead inside his cell'...
Nothing of use could come from that ─ because she had already tried. I haven't been able to find anything from this Koyama-san. She frowned, pondering over it for what it might be the third time this week. He was an incredibly discreet person, or an alias that did not exist to begin with.
Because she would have found anything about this person otherwise, she thought. I found a file about his death, though. Her fingers brushed over the envelope at the end of the table, only now remembering that it was of vital importance that she returned it to where it belonged, or she would be in deep trouble. It was said that he had smuggled a gun in and shot himself… But the wound was clearly inflicted on his mid abdomen.
Sato could not think of a single reason someone would shoot themselves in such an awkward place.
Shaking her head, she put the files away. A teenager's cocky smirk popped right into sight after being uncovered, but her eyes were fixated on the oversized letters that covered the other half of the page.
"Middle school student takes child trafficking group down!"
So, she turned over the page ─ an article she had, too, read a few times appeared again.
"After four months of intensive investigation, the last member of a trafficking group that operated in Beika, Tokyo, was captured last night around midnight. It is yet unclear how many children were victims of this group, but it is estimated to be about thirty to forty. As it is yet, the police are working to rescue the children, but no clues to their whereabouts have been discovered yet.
According to Megure Juzo, inspector in charge of the operation, none of this would have been possible without the help of an unusual, young collaborator.
Kudo Shinichi is only a middle schooler, yet his cognitive abilities have taken the breath away from the entire Metropolitan Police Department. At the sweet age of fourteen, he has seen its connection with the deceased Koyama Mamoru, guilty of the kidnapping of at least two of the victims, leading to the apprehension of ten criminals, of which five had already confessed to their crimes, confirming everything he had deduced.
In between sheepish grins, Kudo-san has confirmed that he dreams of becoming a great detective one day, unlike the world-known criminal Night Baron his father, the talented best-seller writer Kudo Yusaku, depicts in his most famous works. For our part, however, we have no doubt the name 'Kudo Shinichi' is soon to be heard all over the world as the Holmes of the Heisei era!"
It was a little disheartening for Sato to try to imagine what might have been hiding behind that overly bright grin of that boy. Rather than a mystery enthusiast striving to become a detective one day, a grieving teenager seeking justice for his little brother seemed a lot more likely, especially after everything his father had confessed to her.
Kudo Conan had been yet another unfortunate victim. Just like all the others, he never came back home.
As the last rays of light died down and the stars came out to play, Sato put her lukewarm coffee away.
Suddenly, she didn't feel like drinking anything.
My name is Mouri Kogoro, a detective. My job is to find people's faults.
And currently, he sat at the bar known as Blue Parrot, fingers intertwined with each other, propping his chin up. Filled with youngsters loudly playing billiards and darts, it was not the kind of place he would prefer. But a case was a case, so he wouldn't complain if the place his client had decided to meet at was a little less than ideal.
A glass was set in front of him ─ a faint green gimlet on the house, no doubt a proof of her undeniable feelings towards him. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, allowing the smoke to float away.
Her name is Fukui Yuzuki, 26. She's the bartender here, and she's probably fallen in love with me.
"Hey, are you listening to me?" Kogoro's head rose sharply, blinking dumbly. "You can't smoke here."
Instead of Yuzuki's beautiful, delicate face, the great detective found a dull brown gaze and distinctively male, if younger, features. It took yet another second for Kogoro's eyes to widen in realization.
"You're not Yuzuki-chan."
"Well spotted."
Kogoro stared some more. "Have… we met before?"
"I'm Hirai Arthur," he said. Kogoro's expression did not shift, so he sighed. "I hung around your daughter at the Bell Tree Express."
The man looked as if wanted to remember him so hard, but failed otherwise. Rolling his eyes, the teenager pushed the glass closer to him.
"Here, green tea. 400 yen."
"Green tea?! But… Wait, you're charging me?!"
"Yes?"
"Geez, if you were to do that, you should've given me something worth paying for."
"I was told not to give you alcohol."
"By whom?"
All he did was point somewhere behind him. The older man's neck almost snapped as he turned to look over his shoulder, startled at the sight of those big blue eyes blinking behind thick glasses, alongside that wave of déjà vu that threatened to knock him off his stool.
For the second time today, he asked, "What are you doing here?" It came out as a sigh this time around, however.
"Ran-neechan told me to come along and keep you from drinking too much," he replied. "She feared you'd get too drunk to get back home in a single piece."
The man seemed to wish he could say anything, but simply pressed a hand against his face, muffling the words that were yet to come, "I just wanted to meet Yuzuki-chan!"
Shinichi eyed him oddly, that name again had come up. Who?
Conan's head tilted slightly, almost innocently ─ almost, because there was not a single innocent bone in that small body of his. "Ah-le? That's weird," he chirped. "I could have sworn you said you were working in a case."
Surprise paralyzed all muscles in the teen's body. Case?
"I'm glad you told me!" exclaimed Conan, grinning from ear to ear. "Then I can call Ran-neechan right now and tell her everything was just a misunderstanding!"
Kogoro huffed, downing the entire cup of green tea in a single gulp. "I do have a case," he said. He pulled the phone from his pocket, tapping for a few seconds on the screen until he found whatever he had been looking for. "Fukui Yuzuki, a bartender working here-"
Working here?! Shinichi cried in his mind.
"-has been hearing a strange sound while working," continued Kogoro, oblivious to Shinichi's internal dilemma. "A 'pop' like a cork being pulled from a champagne bottle."
"A 'pop'?" When both Kogoro's and Conan's attention were suddenly onto himself, Shinichi realized he had said it out loud. "I think I've heard it, too. I found it weird I couldn't see anybody with a champagne bottle, but assumed I simply wasn't paying enough attention…" His ringer rose to stoke his chin. "Well, wine bottles have corks, too…"
Conan hummed, deeply interested in the mystery. "Did Yuzuki-san say anything else?"
Kogoro's eyes squinted at the screen. "She said that, after the 'pop', she also believed hearing something falling."
The kid's gaze fell on the young bartender, who shook his head. "I cleaned this place thoroughly the other day," he replied to his unasked question. "I couldn't find any corks lying around."
"What about a scent?" Shinichi did not get the question aimed at him, from Kogoro, of all people. "Yuzuki-chan mentioned a faint smell of yuzu."
"What are you talking about? We don't use yuzu here," said the young bartender, face scrunching up in complete disbelief. Leaning forward, resting his elbows on the bar, he asked, "Did she say anything about hearing it more than once?"
"Yeah. Two or three times, all on separate days." Kogoro paused, then raising an eyebrow, he added, "Haven't you heard it multiple times?"
"I rarely pay enough attention to my surroundings. I get distracted easily," said Shinichi, a strained laugh escaping him. And I haven't been working for long enough to recognize a pattern…
Conan stared at him for a while. Liar. He hoped he had transmitted the sentiment, clearly so, through his half-lidded eyes. Definitely he had succeeded, seeing how he avoided the gaze, busying himself with some glasses, or whatever. The boy lost interest quickly.
"Did she say anything else?" Instead, he turned to Kogoro. "Like any patrons that were always there after hearing that sound?"
Kogoro looked at the screen for a while. "No, I don't think she did-" A ping from the phone in his hand had him blinking, surprised. "Oh, she just sent a photo."
"Eh? Seriously?"
He climbed up a stool to sneak a glance at the photo, and was surprised to find out it was about a table of four taken from afar ─ three men and a woman, dressed a little fancier than anyone around them. There are a few objects in the back, the kid realized. He couldn't see them well, but he could easily tell the analogue camera apart, besides that rolled-paper thing that stuck out like a sore thumb.
"E-Eh?!" Kogoro all but screamed. "Aren't those people at that table behind us?"
Conan looked over and halted, shocked to see that he was right.
"Wait, wait… Then, does that mean that Yuzuki-chan is right here?!"
His phone pinged away with the message, 'I secretly took that photo last night,' it read.
Conan's gaze dulled. "And by pure coincidence, they are dressed in the same clothes and the objects on their table are the same."
An answer did not take long to appear, 'They're the kind that does the same thing every night?'
"What's with the interrogation mark, anyway?"
From his spot far away from their position, Shinichi let out a rather dry laugh. He's not even trying to hide it, he thought. Scanning the room with his own two eyes revealed no familiar face, and really, he wasn't surprised he hadn't. A simple disguise would have sufficed, allowing him to blend with the background and probably laugh at his cluelessness from a safe distance.
In any case, and from what little Shinichi could see from his spot, the people in question were just an ordinary group of coworkers, taking a photo with their boss who, visually drunk into oblivion, shrugged off when the one with the camera claimed the roll film was full. One look at the only female was enough for her to pluck another out of her purse.
They don't seem to like him much, that much was clear. If anything, it would seem that the boss had been bullying them into buying some expensive stuff for him.
And it did not look like he was the only one to notice ─ Conan's narrowing eyes on their form told him that much.
Not that there was much left to observe. After a nice joke about attempting to murder his employee with the metal darts he had gifted him, they decided to go play some billiards. I bet they're gonna cause trouble within the next thirty minutes, he thought. And with 'they', I'm referring to that boss.
It was at times like these that the teenager was grateful that he worked for Jii, because he didn't think he would have the patience to put up with a guy like that one.
"Hirai-kun?" Shinichi heard a female voice from behind ─ and he was behind the counter. "Can we switch places? There are dozens of glasses left to clean and I'm tired of doing the same thing over and over…"
There was a woman, dressed as if she was a bartender too. A calm smile on red lipstick, a low ponytail, dark hair ─ Shinichi could not, for the life of him, remember ever seeing her before.
"Yuzuki-chan!" But it would appear Kogoro did, somehow. "So you were there."
She nodded at him, moving to walk right past a bewildered Shinichi. As they crossed paths, however, the detective's eyes widened in recognition, a smirk popping up into existence for the next second.
"You surely enjoy disguising as women a lot, don't you?" he whispered.
"Why would that be a problem?" A broad, familiar grin stretched from side to side in Yuzuki's face. "Don't I look gorgeous?"
Shinichi shook his head, sighing as he turned around.
"Make sure nobody sets something on fire before I return," he said. "Including you."
Needless to say, he had heard some ruckus about half an hour after he had disappeared into the kitchen, but all he had done was sigh and pretend it hadn't happened. At least, nothing had been set on fire, judging by the lack of smoke wafting its way to him, so he figured they would survive. There was another person in charge now, perfectly capable of dealing with this solely on his own, despite what one would be led to believe.
His movements stopped for a split second, remembering that today Conan was there, too. If a fight broke out today, it'd be troublesome, he thought. Though, he wasn't sure if he should be worried for the little boy's sake, or whoever was the hypothetical poor soul that judged by appearances only and wound up with a soccer ball-induced concussion.
The sounds of the quarrel in the bar died down with relative ease, yet Shinichi still peered out from the doorway to check. Yuzuki had a rather dull gaze stuck on Kogoro as he downed the glass that had just been served to him. The flushed cheeks made Shinichi conclude Conan had failed horribly in his assigned job.
Speaking of which, Conan was there, too. He had half-expected a scowl directed at the older man, or even a dejected shake of a head, but there was nothing like that. Elbows digging into the counter, little palms on each side of his face, and that certain distant glint on his gaze that Shinichi disliked with a passion ─ everything was there for his bewildered eyes to see.
The young boy blinked back to reality at the dull thump of a glass set in front of him. Startled, he eyed it, and the distinct brownish black content, for a moment before his gaze slowly rose to meet with his brother's fake features winking at him.
"Don't worry," he said. "It's not poisoned."
Conan stared before his expression dimmed again. "Good to know," he muttered. "Is Occhan paying for this?"
"My salary can cover a single glass of iced coffee, don't worry."
He shrugged, his hands reaching for the glass in question. He halted, something of what he had said finally sinking into his mind. "Coffee?"
Something sparkled back into life in the child's gaze. Shinichi could not help but smile.
"It's fine. As long as you don't tell Ran." Motioning at Kogoro, laughing his head off about whatever, he added, "We can just tell him it's cola. He's too drunk to tell the difference."
At the reminder, Conan deflated with yet another sigh. "Ran-neechan is going to kill me."
"No, she's not," replied Shinichi, not an ounce of hesitation on his part. "Just smile a little bit and you'll be okay."
If anything, Shinichi was sure he would murder him if she ever found out he worked there, showing no remorse whatsoever. No matter how much he argued that all he had given her father was green tea, words would still pale upon her kicks and punches ─ he had long learned his lesson, the hard way.
He really had to go give him alcohol, Shinichi thought bitterly, eyeing Yuzuki. Though I get it. I wouldn't be willing to argue with Detective Mouri, either.
What's he trying to pull off, though? Shinchi raised an eyebrow, hoping that his supposed coworker would notice he was being stared at. If he was this worried about this mystery, or whatever, he should have asked me. I'm a detective, too!
Conan's head tilted backwards as he downed the entire thing in a single gulp, then threw it back down with a long sigh, not unlike how he had seen Kogoro and several other drunk guys in the past ─ it was a disturbing sight, decided Shinichi, making a mental note not to offer the boy coffee next time a similar situation arose.
Conan threw him a sidelong gaze. Shinichi stared back at him from a short distance away.
So, he began, "Look, I'm not angry-"
Sure you aren't.
"-just kinda disappointed." His gaze fell to the empty glass in between his hands. "That you don't trust me enough to tell me stuff."
Shinichi stood back in surprise. The child glanced around, and only after making sure there was nobody else to overhear them, he continued.
"Like the thing with Akai-san. I'm aware it's selfish, and how important it was for everyone to think he was dead…" Conan's lips curved into a smile, yet failed to reach his eyes. "But you know? It was kind of a shock to hear he might have been killed. And scary, too. Because, at some point, I was almost convinced you had let Bourbon into our house."
Shinichi moved a little closer.
"A part of me wanted to believe it was fine, because there was no way you'd let someone so dangerous get so close…" Frowning profusely, the kid added, "But now, there's Bourbon ─ the real Bourbon. Who may or may not have been best buddies with you a while ago… Who may or may not scare you out of your mind for some reason…" Raising his head, Conan settled him with the nastiest look he could manage. "And you aren't making a good job of being a reliable source, either."
"Conan…"
"Is it so hard to answer a single question?" Just like the last time this certain topic had come up, Conan's eyes flashed with anger, his voice rising just an octave higher ─ making it hard for Shinichi to believe he was not mad. "What were Bourbon and you? Friends? Enemies? Rivals? Lovers?"
Shinichi choked on air. "I'm not gonna ask where that last possibility came from"
"Well, as it is, every possibility is just as plausible. You're not helping."
In the background, that same particularly noisy group had apparently noticed Kogoro's presence and was gushing about it. Conan's sharp gaze was piercing through his soul, clinging and twisting ─ stubborn to let go. Cold sweat was beginning to track down Shinichi's forehead, his mouth opening.
Because it shouldn't be this hard. He could just tell him, right?
Biting his lower lip to suppress a cry, Shinichi all but slumped over. His fingers curled around his forearm, clutching tightly as if they would stop that burning pain, or that warmth from slipping through them ─ tinting, drop by drop, everything in sight with a rich scarlet color.
"I have yet to run out of bullets." Even though Gin's gelid voice never failed to send chills down his spine, this time around it was especially potent. "Keep in mind, the last one is going to your head."
Shinichi made no further noise besides a groan, lowering his head until his forehead met that metallic coldness of the table he sat at, that almost felt comfortable. Scrunching his eyes shut, he attempted to focus on getting his raspy breathing back to control ─ maybe, this way, it would be easier to forget about the pain that radiated from almost every corner of his body, or the blood that stuck to his skin like sweat, oozing from wounds that begged for urgent treatment.
Gin's hand grasped onto a fistful of his bloodied hair, pulling harshly enough that Shinichi, for a moment, worried it would tear his scalp apart. But the man hardly cared at all ─ cracking an eye open, the teenager saw that sadistic glee in his eyes told him he wasn't getting back home today.
Funny how the massive blood loss was obviously blurring his thinking. Instead of panicking about his imminent death at the hands of a silver-haired demon, Shinichi could only think of the girl he had left stranded in that amusement park. His only regret, he realized, was failing to make sure Ran got back home safely.
No, he later corrected himself. That was not it. That was not what he regretted the most.
"But I'd rather save some for later," Gin said. "Tell us where it is and I'll make sure this ends much faster."
"I… I didn't-"
Not a single sound left Shinichi's system, even at the spike of pain that radiated through his sinus from a nose slammed against a table. He did not get up again and lay there, doing his absolute best not to give out to the darkness creeping up from the edges of his vision, as tempting as it would be right now.
Behind the lids he didn't remember closing, Shinichi saw the figure of a child, oversized glasses barely even capable of filtering the blazing flames of annoyance aimed at him. He had made him a little mad today because of his arrogance, and certainly, he should be at home right now, apologizing to him ─ his favorite cheesecake in hand as an offering to quell his anger.
Instead, Conan must be all alone at home at the moment. Probably wondering where he had gone.
"If you're this unwilling to cooperate, you leave me no choice."
His eyes slid back open, glaring up at his soon-to-be executioner. As defiant as he had intended it to be, it must have been such a pathetic sight ─ Gin merely sneered when their eyes met.
He had really been looking forward to eating that cheesecake, the two of them together. Strange as that might sound, that must have been his greatest regret of it all.
But there was nobody else to blame for it but himself.
That being said, he failed to remember when he had committed that fatal mistake. Shinichi had thought he had been careful, that he had cleaned after every step, and made sure that his secret would be safe until the day this dreadful organization saw its end.
Summoning every little bit of willpower lingering on his being, the high school detective forced his body back up, gears turning in his mind as they tried to piece out what might as well be the last mystery he would ever be able to solve. Where had it gone wrong? What was that miscalculation that had brought him to the situation at hand?
From over Gin's head, Shinichi had icy blue. Narrowing at an arbitrary spot on the wall behind him, purposely away from his form, and for a moment, Gin's figure smeared at the corners of his vision, sharpening on the faint frown that carved over the blonde's features.
Realization splashed over his head like a bucket of ice water, mouth hanging over, eyes widening in full capacity in utter disbelief.
A feral growl escaped from his lips before he could help it, teeth clenching together as he, gathering all the strength he hadn't known he had left, promptly rose from his seat.
"It was you, wasn't it?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, making use of the voice he had thought lost forever. "Hey, Bourbon!"
Bourbon did not even glance over at him. Not even Vodka roughly pushing him back into place, or even the sickening smile forming on Gin's lips, was enough for a reaction.
"Trying to bring anyone down with you, huh," said Gin. "Of course, that's what a filthy rat like you would do."
From his raven black overcoat, he pulled something out and showed it to him. An innocent-looking pill was being held between Gin's slim fingers. Far too tiny, but so obviously deceiving and deadly ─ it brought forward a frown on Shinichi's face.
A bead of cold sweat rolled down his chin.
"Soon, you'll be begging for me to end your miserable life... And I'll be willing to do so right away, as long as you tell us what we want to know."
And by the time it landed on the scarlet-covered tile floor, Bourbon had already closed his eyes, his expression unchanged. Saying nothing, he stepped out into the hallway, blood-curdling screams filling the otherwise ominously silent room he had just left behind.
"Oniichan?" Shinichi blinked back to reality. Conan was still frowning, but the anger had dimmed, somehow. "Are you okay?"
He didn't even have the time to answer. Instead of his own voice, there was a certain popping sound that had him halting, exchanging looks with his little brother, before they both turned their attention to the troublesome table from before, and the champagne bottle in the hands of the guy who had barely avoided death by a dart early on. Everyone was panicking, being all too aware of the champagne getting onto the rolled, expensive poster, except for the boss. He was draped all over the table, out cold, blissfully oblivious to the chaos surrounding him.
They asked for towels, yet Yuzuki was just a little faster than him.
"That's exactly the sound I heard before," commented Shinichi, watching all three scrambling to dry everything on sight before their boss could wake up. "It must have been the champagne, after all…"
Conan hummed, deep in thought. "But you said there were no champagne bottles around, didn't you?"
Nodding, the teenager detective frowned ─ he had been sure that was the case. Could it actually be a lack of focus on his part? He wasn't so sure about it anymore. Besides, there was that second noise that Yuzuki had claimed to have heard. Dully, he had noted it too, and he wouldn't doubt it if the kid had as well.
"What's that? There's a round, red mark on his neck…"
Shinichi froze. Oh, no.
"Wait… T-The boss isn't breathing!"
Conan seemed a moment away from decking his nose against the bar. Oh, no.
A single tap on the man's shoulder was everything it took for him to flop over, landing on the floor to never move ever again, alongside with the terrified screams that followed. As Kogoro jumped off from his seat, followed by a hesitant Yuzuki, the two brothers stood behind, eyeing the situation from afar with equally dull gazes.
"Our boss won't wake up. It's like he's dead!"
Of course, it echoed in their minds harmonically.
Upon the police's arrival and examination of the body, it soon became clear that the victim had been poisoned. Nothing Shinichi wouldn't have expected, having already seen the suspicious mark on his neck ─ with no doubt, that must have been the way the toxin had been administered. By piercing through his skin.
"But wouldn't you usually yell out and make a scene if you were stabbed by that?" Megure wondered out loud.
"I believe he died in his sleep." He didn't even need to look ─ just the sound of Kogoro's voice was more than enough to make his shoulders drop, fully knowing what would be waiting for him in the foreseen future. "The victim was dead drunk at the time."
From dead drunk to dead dead, thought Conan. Nice.
"You again?" Megure had this judging glint on his eyes as he referred to Kogoro. "Don't tell me you just happened to be at yet another murder scene?"
"Well, yeah… I just happened to be here."
He was feeling pretty proud about it, actually. About how perfectly he had deflected the question, so as not to compromise his client ─ as a detective, had a duty of confidentiality, after all-
"I called him here," Yuzuki said before he could even finish his line of thinking. "There was a mystery I wanted to solve."
"A mystery?"
Cue to the explanation of the case Shinichi had heard a little over a dozen times already ─ though, thinking about it, saying 'a dozen' may be a bit of an exaggeration, but it sure felt like it. In any case, Shinichi wasn't eager to relieve it, so he focused on the three guys that used to work under the victim. The suspects.
At least, Kogoro had decided to do something right today and had questioned all three of them. Kishiura Mika-san, 30. Hatsumura Kensaku-san, 31. And Kogura Monpei-san, 28, he recalled. Alleged to have come there tonight to celebrate the victim's birthday.
"To die on the same day you were born..." Blinking, his gaze shifted to the bespectacled kid standing right beside him. "It's kind of poetic, isn't it?"
Shinichi stared for an entire second or so. "Since when do you sound like Ai-chan?" he asked, eyebrows raising.
"Oh, believe me. You're lucky I'm not her." Shrugging, Conan looked back ahead, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Had I been her, I'd probably skin you alive just for research purposes."
And I'm somehow supposed to believe you're not angry?
"I would also prepare some kind of truth serum or whatever," continued Conan. "But clearly, it wouldn't work. Not with Mr. Liar Detective, possessor of a will of steel and superglue as a makeshift lipstick."
"I didn't lie-"
"Lie by omission. Essentially the same thing."
"See? You are angry."
"What's anger nowadays? Cold indifference or just a meager of harmless murder intent?"
"How is it 'harmless'?!"
"Hirai-kun…"
Both brothers stopped short at that, slowly turning their heads in perfect synchrony, but not as much as their reactions had been. The general attention that had suddenly befallen them made Conan twitch, laughing nervously as if his cheeks weren't warming up, as slightly as it had been.
For Shinichi, it wasn't all that much of a big deal. In fact, the hardest thing he had to do was repress his urges to roll his eyes at Yuzuki's raised eyebrow.
"I think you should pay attention to the case," said Yuzuki. "You might not be a suspect yet, but you are a witness, too."
'Yet'? At this point, Shinichi did not repress it, but hid the eye roll by pinching his nose bridge. "I barely even witnessed anything."
"Arthur-niichan is right, I think," Conan interjected. "Because he wasn't around when the poisoning happened, right?"
"He wasn't?" repeated Megure, feeling as if he had missed something.
"Oh, right, you mean that?"
At Yuzuki's question, the boy nodded energetically.
"The boss was making a lot of trouble. The dartboard here is designed for soft darts, but he tried to use the steel-tipped darts he was given and ended up arguing with the other patrons," she explained for the inspector's sake. "Those three had to step in, and managed to cool him off. It seemed like they told him to wait at the table until he sobered up."
"You three played billiards and darts amongst yourselves. Winner stays on, correct?" The boy was talking directly to the suspects, who nodded, albeit a little shakily. "You must have killed him then, whoever you are, Killer-san!"
None of them made the slightest effort to reply to the boy, and Shinichi could barely blame them for it. On his face a smile had appeared, as bright as disturbing ─ considering that there was a dead body lying just two feet away, so he kind of understood if they were put away, even if they had nothing to do with the crime, per se.
In fact, they were almost elated when the inspector asked to proceed with body searches and belonging checking and were taken away from the weird kid with the creepy grin. Again, Shinichi could empathize.
In any case, it soon became evident that their dislike for their boss was not unfounded ─ apart from, naturally, the killing part, but for the rest, Shinichi figured they had a point. The guy had basically bullied and manipulated them to buy such expensive presents that had the teenage detective doubting if he had heard their price right ─ and, coming from the oldest son of a ridiculously famous marriage, who coincidentally grew up beside the heiress of one of the more stupidly rich companies from Japan, possibly, it was saying a lot.
Hatsumura Kensaku bought him a billiard cue ─ and no. He definitely had not stuck a poisoned needle to the tip so that he could stab him from far away. Shinichi had barely been able to keep his face straight after hearing it, yet had somehow succeeded. Not that he could say the same for Conan. In fact, the way he had sighed against an open palm told him that this wouldn't be the last time he heard something like that. Not even close.
He had been right. Not even minutes after, he had also suggested that Kogure Monpei might have poisoned the darts he gifted him and poisoned by throwing them across the room, somehow avoiding being seen in the act.
If anyone noticed him crouching down right beside his brother to whisper, "You deal with this every day?" nobody made it known. Not even Conan, besides the slight twitching of his eyebrow. "You're amazing, Conan."
"It's not all that bad," finally, Conan said, his head tilting slightly. "He simply does not have a filter between what he thinks and what he says…" He shot him a pointed glance from the corner of his eyes. "Which is better than having a three-inch wall instead."
Shinichi did not know what to respond, at first. "You just can't let it go, can you?"
"Oh, you want to talk about 'letting go'-?"
"Kishiura Mika-san…" Yuzuki's voice ran through, significantly louder than what it had been thus far. "... you got him some rolls of film and a poster of an idol, right?"
"Yeah…" Mika eyed Yuzuki warily. "I… just said that."
"Oh, nevermind. I was just making sure." The bartender paused, however, looking widely surprised all of a sudden, her eyes sliding close. "Wait. This is…?"
Conan stepped away from his brother, his attention captivated by the woman in front of him. "What is it, Yuzuki-san?"
Her eyes opened, settling on the little boy. "I can smell it again," she said. "It's yuzu."
"Yuzu?" Megure questioned. "I thought you sold nothing with yuzu here."
As the adults continued to talk amongst themselves, confused by the newest clue displayed for them to analyze, the disguised detective caught some movement by the edge of his vision. Behind those thick glasses of his, Conan's gaze had morphed from that sweet, innocent curiosity, sharpening into something fairly more serious. Not a word escaped his lips, he slid away from sight, shuffling closer to the rolled poster that the inspector was holding.
It was slightly wet towards the bottom end of it, alleged to be the champagne Kogure had spilled on accident. But Conan's surprised expression after he took a sniff of it told him everything he needed to know. That was what Yuzuki had smelled.
Yuzu. His hand slid to caress his chin ─ not fully aware of the pint-sized detective who unconsciously mirrored his mannerisms to perfection. What in the world happened?
Neither did he, or any of them for that matter, notice Yuzuki's gaze falling onto the pair of brothers, or the enormous grin that couldn't be kept away from sight.
So, how will you solve this? I can't wait to see it, great detectives.
Granted, Yuzuki had not the slightest idea of how large of a wait was required to see those two in action, and certainly, there should have been a miscalculation, as much as a clear overestimation of other's abilities. Half to an hour had been Yuzuki's estimate, maybe an extra twenty minutes if they were specially slow today, but the bartender had been certain that an incredible, almost magical deduction show was about to take place in no time.
But when the thirty-minute mark was reached, Yuzuki had already started to lose hope. No progress on the case whatsoever, besides the lack of poison traces anywhere in sight, and a pair of supposedly intellectually gifted brothers that couldn't stop shooting looks at each other ─ the younger refusing to interact, the older refusing to talk it over, engaging in a vicious circle Yuzuki could not see the end of.
Hand cradling its owner's cheek, Yuzuki raised an eyebrow at the scene, worrying that the case investigation would extend to ungodly hours of the following morning. I'm sure this would have ended eons ago, if only those stubborn detectives decided to use their brains and focus on the case instead of each other…
Surely, the bartender was not the only one severely irritated by the development of events. "Dammit! The weapon is nowhere to be found." Inspector Megure would surely sympathize. Probably. "Just like what happened in the pickpocket's case."
For whatever reason, Conan perked up at that. Perhaps he was involved in that case? thought Yuzuki. No surprises there. At all.
"That's right, regarding that case, Inspector," Takagi began. "Did you talk to Jodie-san about it?"
"No, she's not a member of the police and doesn't need to know."
"Maybe you're right…"
Kudo had now noticed the confusion pinching his brother's little face, along with the way he turned around to approach the men as they conversed. His eyebrows inched together, gaze squinted ever so slightly, foretelling the question that was sure to come:
"What are you talking about, Detective Takagi?" he asked, innocent eyes blinking up at him.
Takagi had only gotten to open his mouth when Megure called him again to check on the entire crime scene once more, leaving a kid dropping his head slightly, lips pressing in light frustration. From what Yuzuki was able to infer, the boy had made it a point to try again once the case was solved.
Of course, however, Kudo wouldn't content himself to wait, and crouched right next to the boy. It did not escape Yuzuki's attention how the kid had huffed, eyes naturally sliding away from him.
"I solved that pickpocket case with the Professor's help and felt curious," came out of Conan's lips as a hiss. "Is something wrong with that?"
"That's what I'd like to ask you," Kudo whispered back. "You made a scary face back there."
Crossing his arms over his chest, the child settled him with a blank stare. "Oh, I don't know. You really want to know, don't you?"
Kudo's eyebrow quivered. "Don't you get tired?" he asked. "Of acting like a brat all the time."
There was a glare thrown sideways as a response, stuck into the teenager's form as he stood back up.
There they go again, thought Yuzuki with a dejected headshake. Quarreling, like they had been doing all night…
Calling Kogoro to the scene had been the worst miscalculation of it all, that was for sure, and now the young bartender was paying for it.
Please, they are the detectives here! Yuzuki cried mentally, staring at the world famous adult detective crouching down in search of some clues. Out of everyone, why am I the only one who can't keep my eyes away from that thing stuck at the sole of Detective Mouri's shoe?!
"Hey, Yuzuki-san."
Innocent blue peeking from behind thick glasses ─ looking at Yuzuki, not the detective brother he didn't seem to like today. That had taken the bartender away, but it didn't seem like Conan noticed, or mattered, in any case. A little finger pointed upwards, asking, "What's that thing hanging from the ceiling?"
Of course, he would notice the freaking silk decoration from last week.
A well-practiced smile slid onto Yuzuki's features, settling in with ease, "It's what's left from the silky decoration," and explained, patiently. "It was cut when I tried to remove it."
Swiftly, Conan sent Shinichi a look. "I skipped work that day," answered the older Kudo in between teeth. "I wasn't there. And no ─ I'm not lying."
But the boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was getting ridiculous, thought the bartender, but pretended not to notice any of it.
"Since the ceiling is a bit dark, I thought no one would notice." And had felt too lazy to get them, but Yuzuki did not feel like explaining. "But you did."
Because you're an insufferable demon spawn with the eyes of an infernal hawk... If those exist, anyway. Then decided that, yes, they had to exist ─ he had seen that bastard Hakuba's hawk with his own eyes before, so he could tell.
Conan smiled in the way only angels would. Sadly, the devil was an angel, too.
"I bet he's used to raising his head to talk to people," muttered Kudo, somewhere in the background, stealing a flinch out of the boy. "Since he's still a midget."
It took a lot more than it should to keep the mask up, not to give up to cackle at the comment. The little one's deliberately dark look served as the perfect encouragement for it.
"I see. But, since you always raise your head, you don't pay enough attention to what's under you." Yuzuki winked. "Right, Tantei-kun?"
Both brothers blinked owlishly. The bartender motioned towards Kogoro, still crouching somewhere under a table.
"Look, under Mouri-san's shoes, there's gum stuck to it." Harmoniously, the boys' eyes widened dramatically. "It wasn't there when he bent next to the body before… I wonder how it got to it…"
Whether the last bit of Yuzuki's voice was heard by Kudo was left a mystery, because he had immediately rushed over, ordering the older detective not to move a single step further, a hand already secured around his ankle to prevent what might be the conclusive proof they had been searching for so long.
"Please, just don't call me that again, Yuzuki-san."
Yuzuki felt lost for a moment, yet it became clear when Conan huffed, adding, "It puts me in a terrible mood."
As the miniature detective trotted back to the scene, an amused grin was inevitable to keep from Yuzuki's delicate features.
Too bad I don't care, Tantei-kun, thought the bartender, observing everyone's reactions displayed after Kudo promptly took that gum-like thing from Kogoro's shoe through the use of a handkerchief. Megure was scolding him for it, Takagi was a second away from panicking, while Kogoro scowled from a distance away.
Yet, unlike everyone else, Conan had a calmer approach, eyes sharpening the moment they settled onto the bit of clay Shinichi was showing him.
Though they were too far to be heard all the way to the bar, and their voices were likely a sliver above a whisper, for Yuzuki, it wasn't hard to follow the movements of their lips, capturing the words just as perfectly that voice would allow.
"It says HDPE," said Shinichi. "High density Polystyrene."
"Plastic?" Conan's face morphed with confusion. "Look, there's a bulge above the letters. Doesn't that mean that the clay was attached to a hole in that place?"
The high school detective turned it over, inspecting it one last time before Takagi basically tore it away from his fingers and moved back to speak it over with the inspector and Kogoro.
"It was probably stuck under something," concluded Shinichi.
"But what's the clay doing here?" wondered Conan.
For a beat, the two of them stared at each other blankly. By the next one, surprise had painted all over them, leaving room for equally knowing smirks and a shared nod of their heads.
There you go. About time, thought Yuzuki, glad beyond words at the sight of the little boy moving closer to his older brother, standing on the tip of his feet to whisper something at him, his hand shielding the movement of his lips from sight. In response, the older detective nodded and said something back to him. Exchanging all kinds of theories and ideas ─ like it should have been from the very beginning.
Their voices were only so barely heard even as Yuzuki walked closer, but at least they were sort of understandable. Not that any of them noticed the young bartender's presence, in any case.
"I see. So that's how he did it," Shinichi was saying, his smirk growing even further. "Cheer up, Conan. You're making it back home before midnight."
The dirty look of the younger detective was blocked by his arm, raising to pinch his nose bridge. "You're forgetting that there's still the hardest part of it all," he mumbled, irritation slipping into his tone. Turning around ever so slightly, his gaze wandered over to where Kogoro was conversing with the police, an ever-present clueless expression painted all over his face. "How am I supposed to get Occhan to understand this kind of trick with everyone watching?"
Shinichi's mouth opened.
"And, no. You're not pulling off a deduction show here."
And clicked shut. The boy huffed again, leaving Yuzuki to wonder if it was healthy for his young body to handle such levels of stress.
"We could just reproduce the trick," suggested Shinichi. "Like a science experiment, or something. And pray for the best."
Conan was ready to sigh again, but halted. "It… actually isn't that much of a bad idea," he said, sounding almost surprised to hear his own words. "Then we need a film case… water…"
"And a bubble bath bar cut off the size of sugar cubes."
"Oh, nice, nice. Just one quick question… Where are we going to get all of that from?!" Conan barely kept himself from shouting, mostly over the need to keep it secret. "I mean, I could ask Detective Takagi, but it'd be hard to convince him that Occhan told him to when he's literally inches away from him."
"I… think I know exactly who to ask."
Conan's confusion grew exponentially at that. Yuzuki internally giggled while crouching down, startling the boy enough to jump backwards, surely having failed to notice Shinichi's supposed coworker's presence all along.
Yuzuki said nothing, merely motioned Conan to extend his hands to him. His eyes widened dramatically at a recently acquired film case, together with a small bag of what he assumed to be bubble bath bars.
As Conan's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, the bartender winked at him, standing up to leave them alone. Only Shinichi's smirk remained, silently thanking Yuzuki for lending him a hand once more.
"Let's get to work," he said.
My name is Mouri Kogoro, a detective.
It seems my essence as a detective has brought disaster through the doors of this billiard bar. A place of refreshment, now impregnated by the stench of death that clings to me like a second skin.
It might as well be a curse, or a plea from the other world to seek justice. I don't know, but it doesn't matter.
What is really important is that no mystery ever survives this brilliant brain I possess.
But some deaths were quicker than others. The truth of this case was an elusive one, slipping through his fingers the moment he thought he had finally caught it. No matter how much he struggled, tried over and over again ─ it just remained unseen, hidden from his all-too-seeing gaze.
Out of the blue, a popping sound boomed through the air, and he saw it. That bright blue gaze, wise beyond his years, flashed at him behind oversized glasses.
"What are you two doing?!" And, for whatever reason, Kogoro did not even feel the need to scold them like the inspector had done. "We're in the middle of an investigation!"
"I'm sorry, Inspector." It was that bartender that worked with Yuzuki ─ what was his name again? Kogoro was drawing a blank. "Conan-kun said he was getting bored, so I thought a little science experiment would entertain him a little…"
Foam spread all over the table they had been using, splattering onto the ground. A suave yuzu fragrance caressed his nose. A discarded film container rolled over to his feet, forgotten by everyone else.
"What was it about?" Kogoro felt himself asking. "This experiment of yours."
The teenager paused, surprised for some reason. But Conan smiled brilliantly, standing from his seat.
"Arthur-niichan is a magician, for real! Look, look!"
Kogoro could have sworn he saw Yuzuki wincing somewhere in the background, a scowl popping up on her features, yet it might as well be his own imagination. Conan continued to pounce around, regardless, like any normal child would ─ which was beyond disturbing.
Conan patted around the table, a look of utter concentration pinching his face. Eventually, he spotted yet another film case they had lying around and brightened up. "All he did was fill a film case to one third with water…"
Smiling, yet saying no word at all, Arthur easily poured some water into the container.
"You break a bubble bath bar into the size of sugar cubes…"
Conan took over that part, letting it all fall inside for the teenager to close the lid. Next, he jumped back and away from it. Chuckling a little, Arthur did the same, pressing his hands on either side of his head, likely to shield them from harm.
"You wait about two to three minutes… and bam!"
Excitedly, the boy's arms stretched to his sides, just as that same 'pop' sound exploded through the air. His mouth hanging open, Kogoro watched in shock as something shot up from the table, easily colliding against the ceiling, before losing power and dropping back again, rolling onto the floor some until it stopped right beside the where the previous one had.
"It's so cool~!" gushed Conan, grinning from ear to ear. "It's just like magic!"
"Science is not magic," explained Arthur, shaking his head from side to side. "It's just carbon dioxide."
Conan blinked back at him. "Carbon dioxide?"
"It comes from the reaction of the bath bars and the water," he explained with a patient smile. "The gas spreads within the container so the cap gets pushed and the container fires like a rocket."
As the child hummed, thoroughly impressed by the explanation, Kogoro's eyes widened further, if that was even possible. The same yuzu aroma wafted in the air, his attention went to yet to be used bath bars, and realized they might have been scented with that particular scent.
Blue peeked out thick glasses, narrowing onto his form.
Once more, like a stroke of luck, the clue I need is delivered to me, popping into my mind like that same champagne cork I first heard today, drowning all other thoughts in my head.
Crouching down, he plucked one of the film containers from the floor, turning it over as he surveyed it. He halted, bewildered by his own discovery ─ the letters 'H', 'D', 'P' and 'E', clear as day before his eyes, were engraved at the bottom side of the object.
Immediately, his mind went to the clay stuck to the sole of his shoe. It fitted to the utmost perfection.
My brain cells, already overstimulated by constant exercise, gather to tie all loose points in this story.
Since the clay was clearly put in there intentionally, there had to be a motive. Maybe to stick the needle they had been looking for all along, so that it would pierce through the ceiling of this ordinary bar to get rid of the evidence forever. An ice breaker would not do the trick, no. It had to be something smaller, like the tip of metal darts…
If it could be taken off and replaced… It could work. Of course, only the person who brought them over could predict how they looked and make a replica…
And by the time the film container falls back onto the ground, the truth is already revealed to me.
The culprit flinched violently as his gaze fell upon him and shuddered when the arrogant smirk came to light.
"Kogure Monpei-san, you're the culprit."
Like that, the smile posed on Conan's lips became genuine, fueled by satisfaction overflowing through him. He saw it all, from the way his face lost color, to how his mouth opened uselessly, reminding him of a fish out of water, likely hoping to come out with a proper counterargument to the detective's accusation. But as the man began to explain the trick and how he could be the only one who could have pulled it out, his shoulders sank.
And eventually, his face twisted in a scowl as he confessed all he wanted was to avenge his deceased friend ─ a wonderful man, in his own words, that took his own life after being mistreated by the victim. Thus, he had no regrets, even as the police led him away from the bar, silent like never before, putting the closing lid on yet another terrible case they were forced to witness.
"Impressive," was everything Shinichi said. He hadn't moved from his side yet, noticed the boy.
Conan shrugged. "Guess I didn't put too much trust in the old man."
"I wasn't talking about Detective Mouri." Confused, he glanced over to his brother, stealing him a small laugh out of him. "You know, since when I was a kid, I remember feeling sorry for Ran. I never told her, obviously, but I was sure that this guy was the worst, laziest detective to have ever lived, incapable of coming up with half a decent deduction on his own."
"Yeah. I've yet to figure out how he gets by the end of the month," Conan said, his tone bland, crossing his arms behind his head. "And how he makes everyone believe he's a competent detective. That's the actual mystery."
"Well, I'd have to admit that he almost made me believe he was a competent detective today," replied Shinichi. "All we did was partly present the trick ourselves, but he deduced the rest of the case on his own."
"You're making it sound like it's too big of a stretch…"
"It isn't for us, probably, but for the same Detective Mouri I've grown up seeing? It's astounding."
Conan omitted any kind of comment, his attention grasped by that certain adult man who, far from noticing him looking, continued to try to talk with Yuzuki. She clearly made a face, taking a step or two, yet Kogoro barely seemed to notice it
"He's steadily improving," commented Shinichi. "And I'd say even he could deduce the reason for that dramatic growth, yet unfortunately, his ego isn't shrinking to compensate."
"I guess even Occhan can learn a thing or two after encountering a case almost daily," Conan sent him a look, a teasing smirk in place. "Which definitely wouldn't happen if I just knocked out like someone suggested once."
"Ah, yeah. I did say something like that a long time ago, huh?"
"You did, and to this day, I wonder how you'd get that to work. I doubt you'd come up with a plausible story as to how Occhan suddenly learned ventriloquism…"
And as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded away from existence. His hands tucked inside his pockets, Conan raised his head towards the ceiling, focusing his gaze on that certain spot, partly hidden by shadows, where that nefarious needle had pierced through. Yet, to Shinichi anyway, it was clear he was not paying attention to it.
"So disappointing…"
Clearly, they weren't talking about Occhan anymore.
Shinichi pursed his lips, his hand reaching towards the little boy.
"Ah, Detective Takagi!"
His fingers didn't reach, merely grasped a handful of air as the kid skipped forward, only stopping right in front of the police detective in question. Shinichi held back a sigh, watching from a distance as he locked hands behind his back, gazing so innocently at Takagi.
"What were you and Inspector Megure talking about?" asked Conan, straight to the point. "About that pickpocket case."
It took an entire second for Takagi to understand what he was talking about out of the blue. "Oh, yeah," he said. "One of those victims was weird."
Conan's head tilted slightly to the side.
"Don't you remember him?" continued Takagi. "That Benzaki Tohei guy."
The boy nodded. "As I remember, he was one of the hostages with Jodie-san in the bank robbery, right?"
"It's true. Didn't he say his wife was the one who put the tape over Jodie-san's mouth in the bank?" Conan nodded, clearly remembering that being mentioned just the other day. "But the robbers asked for only the singles to do that, in order to eliminate any emotions involved."
Even from his position, Shinichi could see Conan's eyes gradually widening with every word that reached his ears.
"Since Tohei-san, the husband, was a hostage then, it really doesn't make sense…"
"So…" He paused, doing his best to deal with a gradually drying mouth. "Did you contact that couple?"
"Y-Yeah, every time we asked him about the case, his response was the same…" Takagi frowned profusely. "He said, 'I don't remember being involved in the pickpocket case.' That's when we were told to turn back."
Thump ─ a beat resounded through his skull, pumping icy cold blood through his every cell, freezing solid every single muscle.
"Benzaki-san wasn't married, either…"
Breath caught in his throat, Conan found it hard to focus on the detective in front of him ─ his mind drowned by the memories of what appeared to be an ordinary family. The heavily pregnant woman who, weirdly enough, as pointed out by Ai, still suffered from morning sickness… That timid kid that kept on ogling at his group, hidden behind who claimed to be his mother… And, of course, that man whose wallet had been stolen…
The one who hadn't recognized his robber in the first place ─ what if he didn't have poor eyesight? The thought terrified him like no other.
Especially considering what that may imply for him and everyone around him.
"And we have nothing on that pregnant woman, or that child. I wonder what's behind all this…"
It was left at that, with Takagi called over by the inspector to continue with his job. Shinichi, unable to figure out what to make of it, slowly looked away from the police and over to the little boy, who had yet to move. Beads of cold sweat dripping from his chin, skin pale enough to be a well-based concern.
Until he shifted on his feet ─ Shinichi stepped forward, worried that he would collapse in front of his eyes, but nothing of that sort ever happened.
With no warning, the young detective darted from the bar.
"Brat?!" cried Kogoro, somewhere in the background. "Where the hell are you-?!"
Shinichi barely kept him from chasing after him, extending both palms in front of his body as he moved backwards.
"I'll get him!" exclaimed the teenager. "Please, go on with your work. I'll bring him back here in a second!'
And as the young bartender, too, vanished into the night, Kogoro could not help but narrow his eyes, calmly approaching the door they both had disappeared from.
Yet, he did not open it.
My name is Mouri Kogoro, a detective.
That who pierces through deception to shed some light on the most obscure cases that humanity has ever known. No matter how big or small, easy or complex, not a single one is a rival to my brilliant mind and superb reasoning skills…
However…
Knowing what sleeps in the depths of a young boy is a mystery I'm not sure I'll ever get to solve.
Behind the glass window, Kogoro watched his figure go. He saw him, the hardest case to crack.
A/N:
Happy Holidays for anyone reading! Wishing you a lovely new year :)
Just in case, there are spoilers for movie 25 down here. Be careful if you haven't watched it yet.
CherryGirl 21-6
The scene with Kogoro and Ai must be one of the most exciting for me, too. I kind of was expecting her to thank him at the end or something, but I guess it was a little too much to ask xD my favorite part, however, must have been when Conan hugged Elenika.
BT
You might have read it above already, but that was my favorite scene as well. Conan hugging her instead of giving her a speech was not something I expected, but it worked so well… I loved it.