File One Hundred and Thirty-Three: The Scarlet Return
"Conan-kun! When do the Macademy Awards-?"
Her face just peered from the doorway when it froze, her features absolutely paralyzed. Silence prevailed, Kogoro's head lifted to give her daughter a long look until she finally understood.
"Conan-kun is not home yet." It wasn't a question.
Releasing a long sigh, Kogoro pushed down the newspaper he had been reading, letting it sit at his desk to fix the girl with a look.
"That annoying detective brother of his just called," he informed her. "He wanted to remind you the brat was staying over tonight as well."
Along with the ladle she was holding, her head dipped slightly. "We were going to watch it together…"
He scoffed. "Who cares about a foreign film award ceremony?"
"But his dad is nominated for Best Original Script!" Looking back up again, a smile, however faint, brushed her lips. "Isn't it exciting?"
Kogoro was probably the furthest from excited right now. "Maybe for you," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I doubt the kid would care."
Ran appeared as if she wanted to argue, but had run out of arguments before the discussion began. The detective raised his newspaper, all but concealing his face behind it, after determining that he had made his point.
Thus, he failed to notice the frown crawling up her face.
"Say, Dad…" That didn't mean he couldn't hear her fragile whispering. "Conan-kun… He'll be fine, right?"
For a beat, he said nothing, the sound of a page flipping over breaking the silence on its own.
"He better be."
Empty hallways, doors securely locked ─ all obscured by the dusk that had just broken, for his young eyes to squint at, carefully discerning any inconvenience he could see, no matter how small or large, that would disrupt the plan. Finding nothing, he shuffled closer, inches from the screen.
He didn't even move from his position when the door cracked open behind him.
"You'll hurt your eyes if you keep on doing that," his brother warned as he closed it again behind him.
Though scowling, Conan backed away, and pushed his oversized glasses closer, as if making a point.
"Okay, sorry," apologized Shinichi.
A slight narrowing of his eyes later, the boy had returned to the screens they had put together earlier that day ─ multiple and large, probably bigger than himself. Conan had no idea where his father had gotten those from, but certainly wasn't going to ask.
With a blast of music, the silence was eradicated. The living room was the only lit room in this entire house, and from the camera they had installed minutes prior, the child could see where all the noise was coming from. A TV had been turned on, that fancy logo of the Macademy Awards barely making into Conan's sight.
Sitting comfortably on the couch, Okiya Subaru appeared to smile, as if enjoying the show that hadn't even started yet. His head rose, gaze falling far from the TV, however, and right into the camera. Blue peeked out from squinty eyes, smirking right at him, the boy scowling behind the screen.
There was only so much space left at the desk, but Shinichi swiftly placed something over it either way. Surprised, Conan glanced down, and the faint light from the various screens in front of him helped him spot it.
"Figured you'd be hungry," explained Shinichi, as the boy curiously examined the package ─ mentally wondering what was there to observe from it so cautiously. It was just a lunchbox he got from a convenience store nearby, nothing out of the ordinary. "They don't sell Ran's homemade curry there, but I think it's edible."
Once he was done with his inspection, the boy promptly opened it and examined its contents. Nodding in approval, he dug in and plucked out a rice ball. His cheeks full of food made it hard for Shinichi to see a boy rather than a squirrel, and he barely contained a cackle at the mental comparison.
I knew you were hungry, even though it didn't seem like the kid had noticed it himself. Shinichi was in no position to chastise him about it, though.
Conan took his time to swallow it all before talking, bits of rice clinging to his face.
"At least it's not Dad's or, God forbid, your cooking," he said. "Wouldn't trust you to make me a sandwich, or we'd be risking a first degree murder investigation in this house."
And went back to eating. Shinichi raised an eyebrow.
"You think I'd poison you on purpose?"
"Did I ever say you were the culprit?"
"Ah, channeling your anxiety through violence. I see."
The munching stopped short, the half-eaten rice ball lowering back to the box. Conan let out a long, heavy sigh. "Was I right to tell Akai-san to do that?" he muttered.
"He agreed to it," said Shinichi. "Believe me, had he been against it, he would have let you know."
With that, he promptly stole a rice ball, biting into it before his younger brother could even have the chance to argue. Contrary to what he had been expecting, Conan hardly cared.
"I think even someone like him understands how pointless it is to hide this from them any longer," Shinichi added. Besides, it'll give you some peace of mind, now that you don't have to lie anymore. God knew this boy needed it with extreme urgency. Shinichi was aware it wouldn't change everything, but at least, he hoped, it would ease that massive weight he habitually carried over his shoulders. As marginally as it may be.
"I… guess so," was the boy's barely audible response.
Thus, the older brother heaved a long sigh. He bent over so that he could remain at eye level when the kid turned to look at him, as slight as his movement had been. It did not matter to the high schooler, since it had been enough to make some eye contact.
"Hey, don't hesitate now," he uttered, gentler this time. "You're doing an amazing job."
The boy said nothing, merely held his stare for another heartbeat before he guided it away, sliding to the side.
"And even if there was a flaw I'm overseeing, Dad would instantly spot it." He tried, but failed to recover eye-contact, terribly so. Conan had rested his chin on an open hand, his head facing the opposite way Shinichi intended to. And not even the hand that had come to place itself over his shoulder had been capable of convincing him otherwise. "Doesn't that mean we're safe?"
"If you weren't shaking this much, maybe you'd sound a lot more convincing."
Conan felt Shinichi's hand flinch, stilling the following second ─ the trembling from before mostly taken under control, though the last embers remained there, posed against his shoulder.
He took a deep breath, and eventually, the hesitance came to pass.
"It'll turn out okay. I trust you."
It had gotten the kid to turn slowly towards him. Despite his trembling, or the stiff smile that possessed on his lips, Shinichi had sounded confident, somehow.
"All that's left is for you to trust yourself."
As if on cue, the shrill ringing of a doorbell made them both pause, their gazes shooting to the screen to see the man glancing back at the camera, a faint frown etched onto his features. When the man nodded at them, neither of the brothers could help but do the same, their breath latching on their lungs as he stood up, moving to the door.
"It's time," Shinichi said.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed something being passed to him. In utter confusion, he stared at the darkened silhouette of a bowtie, then slowly shifted his attention to the deadly serious expression solely shielded by thick glasses.
"You're the most suitable for this job," Conan stated. "Because, despite what you may believe, you're probably who knows him best."
Calmly, Subaru's hand rested over the knob.
And by the time he had pulled it open to reveal an ominous grin behind, Shinichi had already accepted his task.
For an internationally famous magician, any information about Kuroba Toichi was surprisingly scarce. Nothing about his birth or childhood, not to say anything about possible parents or where he had been raised. The more he tried to research him, the more Takagi had been tempted to take that so-deserved day off he had been craving right now, hoping to restore what little sanity he had left.
In the end, he did end up taking one. Normally, he would be resting right now, living his best life until he had to go back to crimes and murder ─ and ghost children, apparently?!
But of course, Detective Takagi couldn't have it that way. Of course, he had taken a train and there he was, shifting from foot to foot in front of the place where Kuroba used to live before his death. His house in Ekoda.
The way his brain worked was a mystery by itself, sometimes.
Hesitantly, he knocked once and waited. He didn't have to do so for long, as the door opened instantly after, as if whoever loved there had long noticed his presence and had been waiting behind the door until then. But of course, those were baseless assumptions and were eradicated quickly from his mind.
Mostly because a messy mop of hair peeked out from behind, a rather bored blue gaze contacting his own bewildered set of eyes. They opened, far beyond what should be considered healthy, and from his drying lips, he uttered, "K-Kudo-kun?!"
"Wrong person," replied the teenager ─ Takagi could not help but feel a certain edge on his tone, as if he had lived this kind of situation fairly more often than he would have preferred to.
"Oh." Takagi blinked.
The teen did not.
"So, uh…" babbled the detective. "Are your parents home?"
"Nope," he answered, cocking his head ever so slowly. "What, did my mother commit a crime or something?" Takagi stared, prompting the boy to sigh. "That was a joke."
Though, internally, the magician remarked she had broken the law. Several times, in fact.
"I know… But I was surprised that you knew I'm a police detective."
His poker face stood firm, unshattered by the wince that threatened to break out from his system. Since there was no way Kuroba Kaito would have seen this man before in his entire life, even though Fukui Yuzuki, the pretty bartender at Blue Parrot certainly had.
"I was hoping you'll help me." Fortunately, Takagi let that go, putting on a friendly, albeit awkward, smile on his face. "You're Kuroba Kaito-kun, aren't you?"
"Congratulations. You got the name right this time."
"Which means you must be Kuroba Toichi's son."
Despite the teachings of his likely-just-missing aforementioned father, the teenager felt his muscles tense at the name. "What of it?" he said, his voice rising just a little, before it went back to normal ─ understanding well enough that it wouldn't be convenient to come out so defensive to this man. "I believed his death was solved."
"Yeah, but there was something I wanted to corroborate with you, if you don't mind. Would you be so kind to-?"
Suddenly, Kaito stretched his hand. The lack of response coming from the detective caused him to raise an eyebrow.
"Your warrant?"
"I… don't have one?"
Slowly, the magician took his hand away. They exchanged looks for an entire second.
A broad grin popped up on Kaito's face.
And then proceeded to try to slam closed the door, yet he failed to. Takagi was desperately holding onto it, such a wild glint in his eye that made Kaito flinch, tempted to back off.
"I can get one, however." But he stayed enough for Takagi to say those words. "But if I do, this will cease to be a friendly conversation and will become an official police investigation."
For a beat, Kaito said nothing at all, yet never did he allow his gaze to stray away from Takagi's face. "There's no need to go that far, is there, Kuroba-kun?" the detective added, prompting it to narrow in a glare. "It'll only take a few minutes, I promise."
Finally, Kaito sighed. "Whatever," he grumbled, leaving the door open as he walked inside, silently indicating that he was allowed to come inside.
Cheering in the depths of his mind, Takagi nodded, and quietly followed suit. He was led through the entrance to a living room ─ comfortable, ordinary. Takagi reckoned he ought to say anything about it, a polite compliment from this stranger's house, yet Kaito did not leave him a chance to. Instead, he motioned to a couch, making Takagi's words ─ and legs ─ stumble together. He managed to get into position in a single piece, fortunately.
"Would you want some tea? Or maybe coffee?" Takagi's smile widened, his mouth opening to reply. "Ah, not to bother about it, you say? Right, I get it."
His mouth clicked shut.
Kaito plopped down on the couch next to him, lazily cradling his cheek in a hand, uttering not another word. Several seconds of silence in, his eyebrow arched, and only then did Takagi realize he was awaiting his input in the conversation.
"I wanted to talk about your father-"
"You already said that. Moving on."
"Well, uh… I was wondering…" Takagi let out a little, nervous laugh. "You don't happen to have lying around… some old photographs of Kuroba-san? From when he was a child, maybe?"
Kaito gave him the plainest look he could manage.
"You want what?"
"I see. That's a very interesting mystery. But how did the man who pretended to be shot leave?"
"Before I answer that, could you turn off the TV? This is an important conversation we're having."
"Can't we leave it on? I'm interested in the results of the Macademy Awards."
Judging by the lack of further arguing, and that the unnecessarily loud laughter of the presenter that continued to boom through the entire house, made it obvious that Bourbon had complied with his wishes, though he couldn't say for sure if he had been entirely fine with it.
Tiptoeing away from the corner he had been huddling into, the boy grabbed onto the rails and propped himself up, stretching his neck as well as he could in an attempt to get a clear sight of the Organization member in question.
Was he irritated, or was he calm as usual? Or arbitrarily, where were his hands? Clasping the teacup he had been offered, or inching towards a concealed weapon he carried with him?
"Back off, Conan." He could have jumped at the sudden voice ringing straight to his brain. "Back to your spot. That's too risky."
Conan obliged quickly, retreating to darkness without a single word. Silently, he plopped back down onto the step he had been hanging around for a while now, his fingers absently playing with his glasses.
"You need to calm down some," continued his brother, speaking through the microphone linked to his frames, all the way from a room further inside their house. "I'm keeping watch of him like you told me, remember? I'll tell you if Dad needs your help."
Even though he had a lot to say about that, Conan forced his lips to remain pressed against each other. Why was he having second thoughts now, anyway? He had been the one who had nominated Shinichi to be in that position to begin with, thought the boy. This plan he had worked on for so long had received the approval of everyone ─ his brother, his father and Akai-san ─ so the chances of success had to be high, right?
Drawing in a deep breath, Conan placed a hand over his wristwatch. And waited, paying close attention to the voices coming from the living room.
"So, how did the man leave?"
"He was probably working with the woman who shot him, so he sneaked into her car and escaped, out of the sight of the men watching them from a distance."
That did not mean he liked it. Sitting there, listening to Bourbon deducing the entire plan his brother had created, exposing it bit by bit to Okiya, surely smirking as he did so, was beyond unnerving.
As expected, Bourbon was good, and surely was capable of picking up the subtlest hints. He had known that Akai was left-handed, reason for which he had been surprised to find out that the fingerprints left on Conan's phone had belonged to a right hand. After figuring out that Kusuda Rikumichi, right-handed, had been the one who picked up the phone, had kind of settled the deal for him. Akai had definitely coated his fingerprints with a clear adhesive of some sort, which would also explain the incident with the fallen coffee Jodie had mentioned a few days ago.
"Your neighbor invents devices that could put MI6 to shame," Bourbon said then. "He could easily create a device that would shoot blood out when a blank was fired."
Conan stopped short at that, blinking confusingly at space.
"One of the observers told her to shoot him in the head." More pressing matters called out to him, namely the man who had invited himself inside their house. "He knew he would. The observer always finished people off that way."
Okiya hummed, deeply interested. "He sounds like the protagonist of a spy novel."
"But someone else came up with this plan."
Conan felt himself frown, his shoulders tensing in anticipation for what was coming.
"Using the phone covered in his fingerprints…"
"Why don't you just borrow mine for a while?"
Jodie's eyes flew open. Slowly, they shifted towards Camel, currently behind the driving wheel, and muttered,
"It wasn't Shu."
A permanent smirk etched into Bourbon's features, he leaned slightly forward. "I became interested in that boy I mentioned before," he said, watching for any sign of discomfort coming from the man with the facemask. "His deductive skills that go beyond his age are impressive, but incredibly rare."
Yet, his expression barely shifted. He held Bourbon's sharp gaze with surprising ease.
"Unless, of course, he was raised in an environment that encouraged such skills."
The excited cheering coming from the TV was his only answer.
"Two years ago, he moved from America to his house. Here, where a famous high school detective lived shortly before he disappeared."
Settling the cup back on the table, he sat back. His eyes moved across the room, zeroing on an unassuming cabinet close to where he sat, or rather, on the black, round, little object affixed to it.
"Yet, far from what the media portrayed him to be, behind those smiles he flashed to the camera hid something darker. This boy was full of secrets."
His smile grew more vicious. As if he could somehow know about the narrowing of those eyes watching him behind the camera lenses.
"Secrets absolutely nobody should ever know about. Naturally, he couldn't fathom the thought of his loved ones finding out about his criminal second life. But on the other hand, those criminals he worked with could not know of the many lives he saved while he pretended to end them."
Okiya paused long enough to glance over at the TV. Silent at first, he observed it with mild interest, when a cough, followed suit by another, wrecked his form.
Even after recovering, he did not look back at his guest ─ neither did sound of any kind come out from beneath that facemask of his.
"A kid with an inflated sense of justice and lack of self-preservation who did not know what was coming for him," Bourbon continued, his eyes sliding closed, his smirk untouched. "He was too young, too inexperienced."
Slowly, Okiya turned over to face him and that sharp gaze, peeking out of rising eyelids.
"And a single mistake forced him to pretend he was dead for almost two years."
Somewhere in the distance, mostly drowned by the blasting volume of the television, came a faint clicking noise. From the corner of his eye, he caught some movement, a flicker of light reflected back to him ─ but there was nothing but shadows and that unsettling, burning feeling of a gaze picking out his soul apart.
For some reason, it stole a snort out of him. "But his bond with this child was too strong to be severed," he said, his eyes resting on where the stairs leading to the upper rooms were supposed to be, for a moment more than necessary. "That, too, was his mistake."
Finally, there was some shift in Subaru's face. A frown was now carved onto his features, his hands, once comfortably resting over his forearms, now gripped onto his shirt just a little tighter.
"Yes. To someone who has tricked death so many times in the past, it would be easy for him to do so again."
"Don't lose hope, Agent Jodie!"
A loud gasp escaped her. Sudden as it had been, Camel had to struggle to remain in control of his car right after the scare.
"What the man said before he was shot proves it…" Bourbon proceeded. "'To think you'd go this far', he said."
Okiya took a moment to answer, "Sounds like nothing but a poor man lamenting his terrible luck." His voice came out, far more stiff than it had been before.
"Yes, that's the obvious interpretation… You have realized it already, haven't you? If you add something to the end of his statement, its meaning changes."
Back in his secluded room, Shinichi's gaze dropped to the bowtie he held to his mouth, and allowed himself to close his eyes for a second.
Seeing no other way, he muttered, "To think you'd go this far… in your prediction."
Inside her mind, a tiny figure peeked out from behind Shuichi's tall figure. A confident smirk rose to his features, his glasses reflecting the light back to her.
As the two of them exchanged knowing glances, Jodie forgot how to breathe.
It was his brother's cocky grin that clouded his thoughts, glancing over his shoulder towards Akai, who mirrored his expression to utmost perfection ─ that mental image had struck suddenly, leaving the child to bite his lip.
"Yes. He was praising the boy who had come up with the plan."
"I see." There was a certain edge to Subaru's tone he couldn't quite read. "Interesting."
A single cough ran through the air, but it went unnoticed.
Bourbon had deduced everything, perfectly at that ─ really, he had assumed this scenario to prepare their plan, so technically, nothing had gone awry so far. Logically, all he had to do was to wait for the rest to play out exactly as he had envisioned it to be.
"The rest was simple. After the incident at Raiha Pass, I just had to look for any suspicious individuals who suddenly appeared around that child."
Yet, it begged the question… How long had it been since this man had invited himself to his house, sat comfortably on that couch and started to drink some tea with who posed at Subaru right now? Might as well have been minutes or hours all the same, he couldn't really tell.
Shouldn't Akai-san have called by now? They… didn't get to him, did they?
"And that's how I ended up here. In that same house they both once shared in the past."
Wait, what if he isn't calling for that reason? What if he can't call?
"Under those conditions, it would have been easy for you to move in here."
Then this plan… Oniichan's plan…
Everything…
His arm hardly moved from its place, the aim target of his watch already ready to be used. Even from so far away, he could easily make out Bourbon's neck, exposed for him to shoot a dart at in case of emergency. A trembling finger rested gently over the button, awaiting its nerves to give the signal.
He followed Bourbon's movements easily as he leaned slightly forward to place a phone over the coffee table, that arrogant smile of his still present on his face. That certain expression that screamed danger, that reminded him of the warnings of his older brother ─ this man should not be believed, under any circumstances.
"I'm waiting for their call. My friends are currently pursuing your friends in an attempt to capture them."
Why did I even think I could predict his movements? Conan pressed a little harder, yet not enough for the dart to be shot. My arrogance… could get everyone killed.
"I figured you'd come clean if your friends' lives were at stake," Bourbon spoke, smiling in satisfaction. "But perhaps you'd be willing to remove your mask before I receive the call, Okiya Subaru-san."
Should I risk it and proceed with our plan, or should I…?
"No, FBI investigator Akai Shuichi."
With that thought, Conan's gaze narrowed.
"Don't." It made him halt, blinking confusingly at the voice that had spoken to him directly, though his glasses. "Don't do that, Conan."
Conan looked as if he wanted to protest.
"It wouldn't be good if you ruined your own plan," Shinichi said.
And just before he could even wonder what he was talking about, Okiya coughed twice. Hesitantly, the boy lowered his arm in order to move slightly, just enough to see the other man from his position. Keeping a balled fist over his mouth, the alleged graduate student removed the facemask from his face, and had the nerve to stare back confusingly when Bourbon sat back, eyebrows raised in utter confusion.
"I have a bit of a cold," said Subaru, his voice hoarse after coughing so badly. "Can I put my mask on? I'd hate to make you sick, too."
Briefly, Conan wondered if his brother was finding it hilarious to tease Bourbon like that, maybe as a watered-down revenge of sorts. He figured that the miffed face the blonde had pulled out had made it all worth it. As scary as the man could be.
"Not that mask." Bourbon was raising his voice now. "I'm telling you to remove your disguise, Akai Shuichi!"
Of course, his father had some fault with it, too. He had craned his head lightly, hoping to appear as puzzled and innocent as possible. "What are you talking about?" His son's voice acting complemented perfectly, too. "Are you feeling okay?"
Bourbon's forehead scrunched up. "What are you planning?"
"Besides calling for emergency services of any kind?"
In the background, the cheering erupted as Kudo Yusaku's face popped up on the screen, smiling and waving all the same as he got up to receive his well-deserved award. Though, Conan mused, he might as well receive one for what he was accomplishing today.
Pushing Bourbon's buttons until irritation came was no easy feat, and they were succeeding. By a great margin.
"Just at a glance, there were two in the entryway, three in the hallway, and five hidden cameras in this room." Conan breathed out after hearing that because, woah, Bourbon was good. "Are you going to record this and send it to the FBI? Or is there someone in another room watching us?"
Too good. Conan scrambled back, receding to the shadows, maybe climbing up another couple of steps as his gaze darted to where he had just been.
"Or should I say multiple someone's?"
Conan did not make another sound, but fortunately, Bourbon did not seem eager to push it. A snort was everything he gave out, focusing back on Okiya once more, and began telling him about that certain popular invention Professor Agasa had suddenly stopped selling ─ the choker voice changer.
"It's just small enough for you to hide under your turtleneck," he said, so confidently, too, that Conan had wished he had been able to see it.
His face, that was, as he pulled back Okiya's turtleneck and discovered absolutely nothing but skin underneath.
An awkward silence followed afterwards, only broken by the abrupt ringing of a phone, and a scream, shocked like he had never heard him before.
"A-Akai?!"
Conan felt himself sigh, relieved.
"Here. The oldest picture I got of him."
Rather than sitting back down, the teenager crossed his arms and leveled him with a glare from where he stood. Half-lidded eyes, pressed lips ─ it was clear that Kaito was absolutely not comfortable with his presence, and the fact made Takagi laugh awkwardly, though it made his eyebrow quirk upwards, somewhere above his hairline.
Since he wouldn't want to bother the teenager for much longer, the detective quickly leaned forward to inspect the album Kaito had reluctantly gotten for him. There was a man in a certain photograph, a smirk framed by a pencil mustache, gloved hands extended at his sides as white doves flew around him.
"He's an adult here, though…" mumbled Takagi, mostly to himself than to the boy.
Who heard all of it, regardless. "I told you already," he said, rolling his eyes. "I haven't got a single photo of him from when he was young."
Now that would be a problem, mused Takagi with a heavy sigh. Never had he contemplated the case where someone would not keep any photographs of their childhood, but now, what was he supposed to do now? Dead end after dead end, there was no way he could chase a case going in circles like this. Not to say that Sato was going to be mad at him ─ though he wasn't entirely sure if she had any better luck with this thing on her own.
Right next to the aforementioned photograph, there was another one that caught Takagi's eye, jerking him from his train of thought for a moment. It was Toichi again, next to a woman who he assumed to be his wife, both gazing down at a bundled baby in his arms. Peering down at him from over their shoulders, there was another pair of elderly people, smiling widely, just as happily as him.
An idea struck him suddenly. "Are these your grandparents?" asked Takagi.
"Eh? Ah, from my mother's side, yeah," answered Kaito. "I barely remember them, though."
"What about those from your father's side?"
"You're out of luck there. Never heard of them." Then, shrugging, Kaito added, "Dad never spoke of them either. Suppose they weren't the best to have around."
Takagi deflated, a dashed expression taking over his face. It was too good to be true, he supposed. He guessed that finding a lead to his parents in order to get more information from them was too much to ask.
Flipping over, he scanned through the photos with mild interest, yet, feeling all sense of hope draining from himself quickly enough. A few pages in, he found Toichi again, and that the baby from before had aged up a little. The same messy hair, a cheeky grin lighting up his face ─ no doubt, that was the same boy that currently stood there, pressuring him into leaving his house just by glowering back at him.
From his pocket, Takagi pulled out that photo he carried with him, and placed it next to the child's. Though there are some differences, their features are mostly the same, realized the detective, upon closer inspection. This uncanny resemblance… They are definitely strongly related.
There was no doubt about it. If he looked this much to his son, then it was almost certain that the kid in this photograph was Kuroba Toichi. Which made things unbelievably harder, somehow.
"What's that?" Finally, some interest moved Kaito from his spot, leaning forward slightly to get a glimpse of the photo Takagi was holding. A gasp escaped him. "Hey, isn't that my…"
Takagi could only nod, then blink. Before he knew it, he was empty-handed. Eyes wide with surprise, the teenager stared at the photo from close ─ an-inch-distance-from-his-eyes close.
"Where did you get it?" Kaito asked, not yet looking back at him.
"It… just appeared on my desk."
Kaito's eyes finally tore away from the photograph, flickering right at Takagi's face. Soon, the surprise smoothed out, leaving nothing but a dull stare behind.
"Like magic," he said, unbelieving.
"You… could say that," Takagi said in between laughs. Kaito continued to stare. "I swear that's what happened."
He surveyed his entire form, from head to toes. "You're no magician."
"I didn't make it appear! It just did." Seeing as Kaito crossed his arms again, the detective promptly gave up, sighing for what it felt the tenth time today, and stood back up. "Thank you for having me."
With no further word, he bowed lightly and made it to the door.
"Wait, you forgot this."
Looking back around, the detective found the teenager holding up the mysterious photo for him.
"You can keep it," he said. "That's the least I can do after bothering you like this."
Kaito was quiet for a second until the realization finally seemed to dawn on him. His gaze dropped, attracted by the features of his father ─ even if multiple decades younger, it was crystal clear that they were his. He was his dad.
"Thanks," Kaito muttered.
Takagi nodded, smiling back at him.
Even after the detective had left, Kaito continued to stand there, rooted in the middle of his living room. Gazing down at the mysterious photo as it bore any answers to the many questions that broke havoc inside his brain daily.
Nothing extremely relevant happened after Akai's long awaited call had finally arrived. At least, nothing that had been far off of what Conan had predicted it to be.
Shinichi had been witness to it all, even though the words the FBI agent had pronounced had been lost to him. Furuya's face had paled considerably, what Shinichi had once thought to be so unyielding appeared to be crumbling down into pieces, leaving but a faint trembling and gritted teeth ─ teething at the mere voice of the man he oh-so-desperately detested.
And then, it popped away from existence. With the call ended, Furuya had smiled apologetically back at Okiya, his composure recovered.
Resting his forehead on an arm pressed against the cold window, Shinichi watched him calmly stepping inside his car, and disappearing shortly thereafter. The teenager hardly moved from his place, not even the slightest shift of his position, or some tension leaching from his shoulders after watching him leave.
That frown decorated his features, deepening after whatever thought had crossed his head.
When suddenly, the door burst open. Struggling to grasp his soul before it could escape from his body and keep himself upright, all at the same time, Shinichi spun to see a small form in his doorway, stretching himself as he invited himself inside.
Once recovered enough to glare, Shinichi muttered, "You really are trying to kill me."
Conan promptly plopped down on the chair Shinichi had been using, watched by Okiya who, smiling amusedly, came inside right behind the boy. Light momentarily blinded him, used to the darkness after being there for so long, but managed to recover somewhat just as the adult retired his hand from the light-switch.
Uncaring about the entire ordeal, the kid leaned forward, his cheek resting over the desk. "… 'm tired…" he let out, in a weird mix of a mumble and a whine.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"More than I should."
This time, Okiya didn't hold himself back. A bark of laughter resounded in their home.
"Like you're the one to laugh." Shinichi shot the man with a glare. "You were supposed to follow the plan."
"It went well, though. For the most part, I spoke using the voice changer in this mask," said Okiya, shrugging as he came forward ─ his facemask gone, his voice smoother, deeper than before. Plucking the glasses from his face and settling them gently beside Conan's head, he added, "When I was told to remove it or faced tough questions, I coughed twice and you answered through the speaker embedded inside the device."
"Yeah, yeah. And then coughed once when you wanted to speak," said the teen, rolling his eyes. "I knew that. I was listening when Conan told us about his plan."
Although fake skin was shredded away and factions underwent a dramatic change, his smirk remained untouched. "We did a great job," the one Kudo Yusaku said, winking at his eldest. "I think I deserve the Best Supporting Actor Reward."
Shinichi stared for a while, a small smile blossoming on his features shortly afterwards. "I suppose you do," he admitted.
Yusaku turned his head towards the door. "Though the woman working on screen right now is probably the most deserving of the award," he said.
Shinichi could only snort at the thought ─ for a moment, he wished he had been there to see her performance. Maybe he should make a quick search later. Surely, there had to be footage of it lying around somewhere. The internet was a vast place, after all.
She made Dad's disguise and took a flight to the Macademy Award ceremony right afterwards, thought Shinichi. He snorted, then added, "I guess we should be thankful to her too, right, Conan?"
The lack of an answer prompted Shinichi to pause, his eyes flickering over to that spot where Conan had settled onto. As on cue, also having noticed something off, Yusaku crept up to the boy, and ever so slowly, placed a hand over his shoulder.
Face buried in his arms, Conan mumbled incoherently. Other than that, he did not react.
Yusaku chuckled. "It seems like he wasn't lying when he said he was tired."
Amused, Shinichi smiled at the slumbering little boy. After watching him run around on nothing but little-to-no sleep and sheer will for, at least, a couple of days, Shinichi had been wondering how much he would resist until he finally crashed. The promise of his loved ones' safety, as temporary as it might be, must have done the trick, Shinichi mused. It was always the same with him, anyway.
"He worked harder than any of us," added Yusaku, the tips of his own lips tugging upwards. "To protect the plan you worked so hard on, was it?"
"Not only the plan. You know why he hung around the stairs for the entirety of Furuya-san's stay, right?" His grin stretched wider. "So he could be closer to you, with his wristwatch ready. He was pretty terrified he'd do something unexpected."
His father offered no response, though Shinichi could infer he had known about his intentions from the beginning. Instead, he lowered lightly, his hand carefully sliding under the boy's armpits. After an almost unnoticeable stumbled forward, that only Shinichi's trained detective gaze would have been able to perceive, Conan's head lolled to the side, coming to rest against Yusaku's ample chest, bobbing lightly as the man adjusted his weight on his arms.
However subtle the movement had been, it was enough to disrupt his rest. Stirring, his eyes fluttered open, just a sliver of blue peeking out.
But other than that, he was quiet. Absolutely silent, except for the sleepy murmur that escaped his lips,
"Occhan…?"
Probably out of everyone, Shinichi had the strongest reaction. His eyes flew open in shock, almost bulging out from his sockets as they slowly rolled away from the child to his father. Despite his smooth, unchanging expression, he had halted. It lasted probably less than a second, yet it had been noticeable for Shinichi's eyes at least.
"It's alright, Conan," whispered Yusaku, his tone much softer than what Shinichi was used to hearing. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"
Just like that, Conan slumped back in his grasp, snoring away as if absolutely nothing had happened for Shinichi to stare. It wasn't until the boy disappeared past the doorway that he snapped out of it and hurried after them.
Hastily following his father through the hallways, he tried, "I don't think Conan meant anything with that, Dad." He put on a tense little smile. "It was just sleep talk."
Yusaku stopped, nodding towards the door. His son immediately obeyed, opening it and stepping aside. Quietly, their father walked over to the bed inside Conan's room, and ever so gently, allowed the boy to sink into the mattress. Carefully he plucked out the frames still perched on his nose, if a little crooked, and settled them over the night table at his bedside.
Shinichi could not decide if it would be wise to say anything at all, or otherwise, it would be better to stand back and watch in silence. His father was gazing down at Conan's strangely peaceful expression, an odd glint on his eyes that he could not glint, even with the help of his extraordinary deduction skills.
Just as his mouth opened to speak, Yusaku's voice rang through,
"He's gotten a little heavier."
Thus, he crooked his head.
"I can't recall the last time I've picked him up like that," Yusaku added, his tone a little somber, fainter, too. "But he was lighter. And smaller, much smaller."
"Children grow fast," offered Shinichi. "Hard to say that from that midget I have for a brother, but it's still a thing."
He paused long enough to pull the covers over his youngest's prone form.
"It's purely the consequences of my own actions." Once he had tucked him in tightly, the man straightened up, backing off a single step. But he had yet to face his eldest. "I cannot expect to be a parental figure in a child's life without actually being there."
There was a sigh, but not quite a reply to that ─ a telltale of how much he agreed with the previous statement. "So you were aware of it," whispered Shinichi.
Finally, he turned back around, but did not lock eyes with him as Shinichi had expected. Yusaku promptly flicked the lights off, their shoulders brushing lightly as the man walked right past.
A frown rose to Shinichi's features, but he was careful enough to close the door leading to his little brother's room before facing him, the retreating figure in the hallway.
"What got you to this point?" Shinichi's question made his steps halt midway. "What were you chasing so desperately all around the world for so many years?"
He saw him peering over his own shoulder, their gazes locking. Shinichi held on his own determinedly, but for Yusaku, it wasn't like he was going to be able to tell. Unreadable as always, his stare prevailed, too stubborn to part from him.
And when his mouth opened, Shinichi thought he was finally going to hear the answers he wanted.
"Is the FBI agent I stood in for coming back here?"
Shinichi glowered at him. Then sighed, fully aware of how useless it would be to get the answers he wanted from this man, and those tightly sealed lips of his.
He gave in, nodding as he turned over to the adjacent window. Behind the glass, Agasa's house stood, the lights they had yet to be turned off illuminating everything in proximity.
"There's someone he needs to protect."
Pulling up in front of Poirot, Furuya found everything had been submerged in a deep, yet eerie, standstill. Curtains drawn out to prevent any passersby from peering inside, the lights were already out after a long business day ─ it wasn't all that abnormal, considering it was probably closer to sunrise than twilight had been.
Inside, peace prevailed. Shadowed, but neat all around. Not a single chair moved a single inch from their original place, nothing seemed to be missing either at first glance. Just him, and the silence of the night.
And a click, followed by a certain coldness pressing itself to its temple. Experience allowed him to recognize the shape as the barrel of a gun.
Despite himself, he smirked. "Is this how you greet an old friend?" he said. "By pointing a fake gun at their head?"
There was a snort. "As expected from the three-faced-bastard, Furuya Rei-san."
Slowly, the gun was retired from his head, allowing him to turn around. Sharp, blue eyes pierced through the darkness, yet rather than any harm, all they accomplished was to make Furuya's smirk wider.
"I was worried for a moment, but then I realized you couldn't have just ran straight to your death without a plan." Furuya slightly tilted his head as he spoke. "Or it would mean you'd leave him alone to fend off on his own. Right, Shinichi-kun?"
The frown that decorated Shinichi's features intensified.
"Him. Your reason to keep on moving," added Furuya. "Edogawa Conan-kun, or should I say-?"
He halted mid-sentence as a pressure made itself known under his jaw and eyed, as well as he could, the gun pushing against his skin. "It takes some skill to murder someone with a fake gun," he said, thoroughly amused.
Shinichi mirrored his expression. "I'm a homicide detective, and creative enough."
"But you're no killer. That's what brought you to this situation, in the first place."
A scowl later, the pressure had increased exponentially, to the point that it was beginning to hurt quite a bit. His eyes flashed furiously, burned in a way that Furuya had seen only a few times in the past.
"Listen here," he spat, words dripping venom. "If you do anything, and I mean anything to anyone, I'll make sure they know about your little secret."
Furuya hardly appeared fazed. "When you speak about 'anyone', does it apply to you as well?"
"Selling me out again implies endangering them, so yes." Feeling as he had gotten his point across, Shinichi stepped out, the cold metal having gone warm after minutes of skin contact finally leaving to be put aside. "For the record, I have ways to send that information to them, even if I'm physically unable to."
Fingers rubbing lightly over the sore spot the gun had been pressed to, Furuya found himself letting out a rather dry laugh. Shinichi, who had been on his way to the door, stopped to glance over at him.
So, he explained, "You two are extremely alike."
Shinichi stood there for a moment, confusion making its way to his face, probably unable to figure out what he was talking about. Eventually, he seemed to give up, opening the door and sliding outside, as silently as he had come in.
Furuya moved closer to the window, watching the high schooler covering himself in a hood and calmly began to walk away, with no clear route, if he was to guess, but with the obvious intention not to let him know where it was.
He disappeared not long thereafter, but Furuya stayed there, a smile posed on his lips.
"They are terrifying," he said, to nobody in particular. "Both of them."
A/N
CherryGirl 21-6
Thanks! It's crazy to believe three years have passed… I've yet to get my head around it
So you were in London? That sounds like so much fun! Hope you had a great time there. I'll also wish you a happy birthday, but it's likely to have passed a long time ago, so yeah xD
The poster for the movie hyped me so much it's not even funny. And did you see Agasa ready to throw some hands? xD Can't wait
BT
Thank you! I'm glad you've been liking this so much!
emiliani . jennifer01
Thanks! I really love Quarter of Silence, too, and it's one of my favorites. However, I don't think it'll ever make it to this story, since I don't think it'll fit with the rest of the plotline.
It's a shame, since I've a few ideas for that move in particular. Maybe one day I'll cover it in a separate story, but I'm not sure about it.