Chapter 7 - Freedom

The weather had warmed up in the late morning but was still a bit chilly for the month of October. This only worked in their favor though, as the seven of them walked down the street in large bulky jackets.

""Where are we going to go to freshen up?"" Conan asked as they walked. ""I'm not sure a simple bathroom will be enough….""

""Don't know,"" Max admitted.

""What were you thinking of, then?"" Fang asked Conan.

""Well, I suppose we could find an old bath house or something, maybe one that doesn't look so busy. They aren't as popular now anyways so it might be possible with some searching. Besides, it's nearing noon so less people are likely to be there.""

""Well you can read all the signs, so lead the way then,"" Fang told him.

""A-ah, uh, okay,"" Conan said, feeling a bit awkward taking the lead in such a bizarre situation and still feeling shaky and wrong in his body. The city seemed louder than ever to him, and all of his senses were jumbled and overwhelmed as they walked along. He was continually on alert even so.

As he observed his surroundings, he came to place them in the city of Hiratsuka in the Kanagawa prefecture. Some part of him sighed in relief at being so close to home.

""Don't you wanna go home or something?"" Nudge asked him, strangely in tune to his thoughts. ""I know I'd want to if I had a home.""

""I've wanted to go home for a long time,"" Conan admitted tiredly, referring further to his other problem as well. Not that he would ever bring that up, though.

""Then why-""

""How did you get all that stuff this morning and last night?"" Conan asked, cutting her off, curious.

""Well we try not to steal if that's what you're getting at,"" Nudge shot back defensively, crossing her arms.

""No, no, I was just wondering is all,"" Conan tried to placate her, waving his hands in the air for peace. Normally he would be the type to be heavily averse to stealing, but in the light of things he understood where these kids were coming from and how little their options were. He hoped he could fix that.

""We usually dumpster dive,"" she finally admitted, letting out a deep sigh. ""I do gotta say though, the spoils are way better in America; I didn't realize just how big of a problem corporate waste was over there until we had to pick out the scraps over here!""

""Maybe once we take down the School we could solve that next,"" Iggy said.

""Wouldn't that be something,"" Fang scoffed.

""It sure would,"" Iggy said, his words purposefully contrasting with Fang's sarcasm.

For some minutes the conversation went on as the group tried to skirt around as many passers-by as they could until, eventually, Conan spotted a bath house in a less densely packed area. It looked old and somewhat run-down, but that happened to be even better suited to their needs.

As the group made their way to the building, Conan stopped abruptly. He'd forgotten. Bath houses aren't free.

""Uhm, I just remembered something…,"" he admitted aloud.

""What's that?"" Max asked.

""These cost money. Even if it's cheap, it's still-""

""That's fine,"" Fang said. ""Just go in there and talk 'em up and then tell me how much it is.""

""You have money?"" Conan asked, astounded and confused.

""We make due,"" Fang responded curtly. Conan didn't feel comfortable with that but again chose to ignore that for the time being given the situation these kids had been perpetually living in. He was always one for doing right, which usually meant abiding by the law for him, but he did recognize that that wasn't always necessarily the best option in every scenario. Taking a deep breath, he finally entered the bath house followed by the Flock.

They indeed had gotten lucky; not only was the place cheap it was also entirely empty. In fact, they had arrived just shy enough to the place's temporary closing time to be able to wash up. After Fang handed the lady a wad of (dishonest) bills, they all stepped further into the bath house as Conan explained to them the rules and how it worked as briefly as he could.

""I can't believe we haven't been to one of these places in all this time,"" Iggy said as the boys entered the area designated for males.

""Well it would have been a little difficult to hide out in a public bath, not to mention we'd quickly get found out if we pulled the tourist card,"" Fang said in response.

""How come you haven't done that? Pull the tourist card, I mean?"" Conan asked.

""'Cause Erasers are everywhere,"" Gazzy explained. ""Even in America where we fit in with everyone they were always just, there, and it could be hard to tell who was one until it was too late. They'd clock us in a second here, and we'd only have more trouble identifying them."" Conan hummed in understanding at that.

Americans were a bit more averse to the customs of a bath house, so they all drifted to their own separate areas to clean off. Conan was baffled at the amount of red dripping off of his body and onto the ground. The sensation of him attempting to clean his half-formed wings was foreign and strange and awkward. They still hurt and were hot to the touch, and he himself was somewhat feverish. But there was no new blood mixing in with the old washing down the drain.

The group went to an internet café after cleaning off to do some research. The Flock wanted to learn more about the Japanese School, and Conan seconded the curiosity. In the two months where he and Max had been held captive, the Flock had spent a lot of time simply trying to locate the place; information seemed scarce, and it was even more difficult to acquire with the language barrier. They had no phone for translations and were often sniffed out by Erasers, making it even more difficult and dangerous to approach locals.

Conan also wanted to find information about himself so he could better be prepared for what he was jumping into when he returned. He knew many people would be angry-worried for him after such a long absence, and that would only get worse if he told them the actual details of his kidnapping. He didn't want to tell anybody about it, but he knew eventually he would probably have to come clean with the Professor and Haibara if nobody else, if only due to his other issue regarding impossible physical transformations. He hoped his new condition was reversible or if not, that it at least wouldn't affect the antidote. He wasn't sure how he would get on if it did.

They booked the café for an hour and rented two separate computers to use. In that time they scoured the internet feverishly, making use of every second they had.

Conan found his disappearance to have been treated fairly run-of-the-mill, with somewhat more attention due to his relation to the Sleeping Kogoro and the Metropolitan Police Department as well as being known in the public eye as the Kid Killer, though efforts seemed to have become slackened and less hopeful after about a month's time. He even looked into a bit of Kogoro's situation in his absence; it was reported that the case was affecting him so severely with the loss of his ward that it had affected his ability as a detective. "The Sleeping Kogoro can't sleep when those he cares for are in danger," and similar phrases pervaded news outlets all around. Conan snorted at that. Even if he did care about me like that, it certainly wouldn't be the reason for his recent slump. Still, it might make a good excuse to hide behind when I return and his career skyrockets again, otherwise the cover might not have remained valid. It seems the general public is rolling with it at least. I'll definitely have to make use of that.

He made sure to look into those matters for a maximum of ten minutes, using the rest of the time to look up names, addresses, histories, and anything he could find on the people he came to know in his time at the School.

The Flock had been decently impressed at his memory when he told them what he was doing upon their asking. They couldn't read Japanese, which happened to be the language he was searching in, so he had to explain it to them. It was partially how he got them to allow him to access the second computer while Max used the first; they agreed it would be a viable trail to follow.

In the end, one of the most important things they had learned during this time was that there was already coverage on a group of foreign terrorists that bombed a medical research facility and that the group exploited the use of children. The coverage seemed vague yet oddly specific, and it was obviously targeted towards them. It seemed the School was already trying to make use of the public eye to help in finding them by portraying them in a negative light to save their own backs. Not that Conan was going to let that slide for very long, of course.

Funnily enough, any coverage found on the incident neglected to mention this rag-tag group of foreign terrorist's defining trait: their wings. Almost like that was something they didn't want getting out. But then, why would they cover it at all? Why wouldn't they just keep it hidden and let the Erasers quietly (or well, semi quietly) track them down instead, like they had in America? The Flock had latched onto these questions when Conan posed them, but they also did not have an answer despite finding it just as strange as he did. Conan kept the questions at the top of his list as he made a mental note to keep an eye on the situation and the media.

Trouble struck again when the group was out to lunch. It was a late lunch, of course; they had had a late breakfast. Stomachs were growling and patience was dwindling in most of them, so they finally went out to find something to eat.

Something pungent filled the air as they walked the streets. It was somewhat busy, but they had tried to keep to the quieter parts of the city in their quest for sustenance. But something just... wasn't right.

""Do you smell that?"" Conan asked the Flock, his brow furrowed in confusion.

""Smell what?"" Gazzy asked in return, walking closest to him toward the back of the group.

""It smells kind of odd, like… I don't know. I can't really describe it, but it's so specific, and it's just so strong. Maybe something's happening nearby….""

""Well Iggy's got the strongest sense of smell out of all of us…. Hey Iggy, do you smell something weird?""

""No, I-""

"Well well, don't you look familiar?" a low female voice said from the front of the group, cutting Iggy off. She was a tall woman with her long hair tied back in a ponytail, silky and soft as it trailed down her back. She would have been beautiful save for the chilling smile on her face as she stood in front of Fang who was at the front of the group beside Max. The woman was gripping the teen's shoulder hard.

The Flock couldn't understand what she had said, given she was speaking Japanese, but they had the experience to know right away what was going on. Fang harshly shoved her hand away and the Flock dashed across the street to the other sidewalk, Conan following a bit behind, late to pick up on the situation.

The woman had not been alone, two others accompanying her at her side. All three chased them across the road, one man and two women.

People watched the chase with bated breath around them, some pulling out phones and recording the strange occurrence. Murmurs of, "What's going on?" "Are they filming a movie?" and other similar comments quietly filled the air and floated down the streets alongside the noise of their pounding footsteps.

They ran through alleyway after alleyway trying to lose their pursuers, but they slowly got closer and closer. Eventually they ran into a parking lot by a quiet construction site and took to the sky as quickly as they could. Nudge had been closer to the back of the group and quickly whipped around to grab Conan before taking off, slightly later in the air than the others and shouting out when her foot was almost grabbed by a transformed Eraser. It seemed they had finally changed and realized they would lose them if they didn't. Even so, it was too late; the Eraser only grazed her ankle and Nudge successfully joined her Flock in the air.

""You know what we fucking forgot to check for?"" Max asked rhetorically, pacing a hole in the dirty floor of their temporary shelter, the motion of her hands displaying her agitated fury. ""Chips! We've probably been fucking chipped!"" she shouted in frustration.

Fang stepped in front of her and held his wrist out to her. There was a scar there.

""That's where it was when they took us to this country?"" she asked quietly. Fang nodded.

""Well why didn't you bring it up before now?!""

""I forgot! If you remember we were a bit busy these past few days."" The tension in the air was palpable, but only momentarily. Max just sighed in frustration, knowing he had a point; she had forgotten herself to consider a tracking chip.

""How'd you find it,"" she asked, some of the tension leaking off of her as she deflated somewhat.

""It was blinking slightly. Don't think they put it in right, or maybe they just didn't care.""

""But if yours is gone, then they might have chipped us in a different place….""

""It can't hurt to check. We found ours a little while after you didn't return, so maybe they didn't think it was important to take it out and put it in again since they already had you.""

Max looked down at her wrist. She brought it up to her face. She brought it so close it was almost touching her eyes. She watched in silence for a moment. The scene would have looked incredibly strange in any other context; heck, it looked strange even with the context as everyone watched her with baited breath. A moment later she pulled her arm away again.

""It blinked,"" she admitted. ""It was hardly there but yeah, it blinked.""

""Then why don't we take it out of you and Conan and fly the next city over to find lunch? They'll get here soon enough, and we can't survive if we don't eat,"" Iggy said, looking on from the sidelines.

""We'd need a knife-""

""Got one,"" Fang said at Max's words.

""Wh-""

""I've had it for a while, just in case. It's a pocket knife but it should do the trick.""

""But you can't just cut yourself open like that!"" Conan butt in. ""Especially if it's not sterilized. You could risk a serious infection!""

""We've done it before,"" Fang said, looking at him now, his face blank and unworried.

""He's right, Conan,"" Max said. ""We have, and we don't have much of a choice here. I brought in some alcohol wipes and other supplies last night we can use to at least slightly lower that risk. Besides, the alternative is much worse."" Conan got quiet at this for a moment before replying, remembering against his will the traumatizing events he'd experienced at the School.

""Fine, but I'm helping.""

Two bandaged arms later and the Flock was off in search of a meal and another place to camp out. They decided to dumpster dive to lessen their risk of running into any more Erasers, and it went fairly well. There was enough almost-okay food behind a nearby grocery store to satisfy them for the time being. All the while Conan was internally planning his next move and how to help this group of stray bird kids.

After lunch they sat around the dumpster, discussing a plan of attack for the School. Conan did not contribute for a while and just watched, observing how the group thought and worked. And he was pretty impressed with them, especially with the oldest of them being just fourteen. Soon enough, though, his body started getting hotter, his half-wings twitching, his senses dulling somewhat as a headache made itself known. Their voices started fading out a bit in his ears. He tried to ignore it and finally cut into the conversation.

""I know some people who can help,"" he offered up, his words coming out a bit garbled. ""If we can get to-."" But he never got to finish his sentence, passing out right then and there.

That night, the Flock decided to get some more blankets and sleep under the stars atop the tallest building in the city, huddled together for warmth. And that was where Conan slept for two whole days.