File One Hundred and Thirty-Six: Running Away From Fate
"Are you sure that she's one of them?"
"I can't say I'm sure. But her right eye… It seems as if it's fake."
Conan failed to utter a single word in response, simply opting to hop off the bench and take a few steps ahead. Thus, a deep silence emerged right away, one that he did not make a single effort to break.
Instead, his gaze wandered over to where she, the amnesiac young woman they encountered earlier today, was sitting next to Agasa, a reasonable distance away where their words could not reach. Quietly still, doing nothing but observing the three children chatting among themselves, smiling from time to time, then going back to contemplate her fists that rested over her lap.
"You also felt something, didn't you?" At that, Conan turned around to face her narrowing eyes, stuck to his form. "That face you're making right now, as if you have been fearing this would happen…"
He twitched. "N-No, I-"
"Don't you dare to lie to me." Conan's mouth wisely clicked shut. "You do know something."
Obviously unable to formulate a believable excuse any longer, a heavy sigh was forced out of his system. As his gaze shifted from her face and was cast on the ground, Ai waited, her frown deepening with every second he said nothing at all.
His hand moved as if it possessed life on its own, coming to rest on that one spot on his shoulder. Lips curved to form that single word that had made his blood chill just by hearing it all those days ago,
"Rum."
Although her muscles stiffened, her reaction was mostly limited. Maybe, supposed Conan, she had been expecting this to come up at some point.
She did nothing but close her eyes, draw in a deep breath, and whisper, "Why didn't you tell me anything?"
Conan failed to answer, unconsciously shifting until his body was facing slightly away from her.
Her feet gently landed on the floor as she left the bench, moving to stand in front of him to force that eye-contact he so desperately was fighting against.
"I had a right to know," she pressed further, her voice raising just a little, but not beyond her control. "You know that well."
But he was adamant. And so was she.
"I learned about Bourbon from your own mouth." She insisted, not bothering how it must be looking like to those outside their conversation. Moving sideways to remain in front of him, despite his stubbornness, his need to keep himself shielded from her gaze. "Why is it different now? Why-?"
This time, he didn't avoid her. He turned to her fully, abruptly. "Because I didn't want to ruin it, okay?!"
He saw her flinch, and only then did he realize he had been far too blunt, perhaps a tad too violent about it. Embarrassment did wonders to calm him down, his gaze once more lowering to the tip of his shoes, finding it all the more interesting than anything going on around them both.
"Everyone worked so hard," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, a clear contrast to what it had been like just seconds earlier. "They did everything they could to give you one normal, happy day…"
Impassive as always, Ai did nothing but to listen, his frustration audible to her ears, clearly so.
"And then this happens. I didn't want to spoil everything. They were looking forward to it so badly-"
"Why are you always excluding yourself when you talk about this?"
For that, Conan had no answer, but Ai waited for one, nevertheless. Seeing there was no reply coming, she sighed, allowing her eyelids to close gently.
"There's no such a thing as a normal day."
Her murmurs had the boy finally lifting his head to look at the girl and her oddly calm composure.
"You know this better than anyone, don't you?" Ai's eyes opened back up, yet this time, it was her turn to avoid his searching gaze, flickering and latching to the sight of his shoes, like it had been for him not that long ago. "You were the one who told me not to run away from fate."
Blue met teal for the briefest of moments before her gaze rose to meet the sky above.
"Once you become a crow, you can't hope to live your life as a white dove soaring your way through the blue skies, escaping the dark storm clouds coming for you," she said, a bit of a grim smile making its way to her face. "It's eventually going to get you. You can't run away from it."
Conan frowned. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't what I was referring to."
"So what does that mean? Is Rum alive?"
He stopped speaking, a bit perplexed by the abrupt shift in topic, before he was able to collect himself.
"That's hard to say." Conan appeared visually troubled at the matter at hand. "I mean, I'm still here."
And, while infinitely and obviously beyond glad about it, that was the biggest incongruence to it all. Besides Vermouth, Rum was the only one who knew of his involvement with the Black Organization. If they were to assume that Rum survived somehow, it would be hard to believe he wouldn't have realized that his brother had ulterior motives when joining them, or would turn a blind eye to it.
"But you said it, didn't you?" said Ai. "That you were sure he was dead."
Haltingly, he nodded. "I am."
"Yet, at the same time, you fear that this woman is Rum." Conan made no attempt to deny it, so she assumed she was right. "To tell you the truth, I doubt she really has amnesia."
Conan wanted to deny her claims so badly that it physically hurt. Within him brimmed a desire so strong of believing they were alright, and that there was a chance that nobody would get harmed as a result ─ that he hadn't inadvertently caused the worst to happen, just by establishing contact. Just by walking up to her to check on her condition.
"If that woman isn't odd-eyed… If one of her eyes is an artificial eye…" Ai's gaze narrowed on his form, a severe expression reigning over her features. "Then you're in grave danger."
Everyone is, the thought crossed his mind, echoing through before he could even recognize it as his own. Fingers flexed, clenched into fists, but other than that, the little detective did absolutely nothing.
At least, until Ai grew bored with observing him, and firmly declared, "I'm calling Shinichi-san."
His head jerked back up, turning towards her so abruptly that, for less than a second, she worried he had snapped his neck in half. Eyes zeroed on the phone resting on her hand, or rather, on the finger that barely even grazed its screen, and suddenly, they opened wide.
Shattered, her composed composure ceased to be, and a startled shriek escaped her lips. Just barely able to hold her phone away from the wavering hand that desperately wanted to fetch it, she looked back at him, then slowly, her surprise dimmed and an eyebrow shot up.
"You could have asked nicely," she told him.
He stopped and blinked twice, then immediately stepped away with a soft, "Sorry."
Phone clutched to her chest, protectively, Ai settled him with one extended, analytical look. Slightly embarrassed, again, the bespectacled boy averted his gaze, but that did not stop her from stepping back, arms crossed over the blue dress she had chosen to wear today.
"A member of the Black Organization who might know about you has appeared. I won't try to pretend I can't understand your reticence to involve him-"
"It just is unnecessary," he interrupted her. "It's too early to tell."
Although she didn't appear too convinced, she slowly put her phone away, tucking it inside her pocket.
"Let's hurry back for now," continued the boy, whirling as he began to walk. "If all of this were to be true, I don't feel too comfortable leaving everyone-"
He halted mid-sentence, his steps skidding to a stop, not to move again.
Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "What's wrong?"
It took a moment for Conan to react, his next words escaping him in something akin to a growl.
"The Professor!" he exclaimed, exasperation and anger tinting his tone, all the same. "That's the only wrong thing here!"
Soon, she became able to see what he was talking about, and it did not take her long to be similarly terrified at the prospect. Together, they ran towards Agasa who, oblivious to anything else, laughed carefree as he admired the many pigeons that had come to rest their wings all around him.
With their presence, they all scattered away, but they did not give him the chance to complain about it, mostly because there were clearly more pressing matters to be worried about. Namely, the fact that the professor was alone. Neither of their friends was around, and worse yet, the woman was also gone.
And of course, none of those guys had the decency to pick up their phones, at the very least. Again Conan called, over and over, but the result did not change.
He was going to chew Mitsuhiko off. As the most reasonable and the holder of the sole brain cell those three shared, Conan would have expected him to know better.
But it was fine. Yeah, they are just hanging out with a potential member of a deadly organization.
"They're probably on the Ferris wheel," Ai suggested. "They really wanted to ride on it, too."
I stand corrected. They are just in a tightly enclosed place, with no way out, hanging out with a potential, high ranked member of a deadly organization.
Nothing can go wrong, right?
Gritting his teeth, and not stopping to think about it twice, Conan started to run, Ai following close behind. After a brief moment of hesitance, the professor stumbled forward and imitated their actions.
They didn't get too far before they, or rather Conan, skidded to a halt. In a flash, he had plucked his phone, still rumbling beneath his fingers, and placed it to his ear. A frown took hold of his expression, his mouth opened to let Mitsuhiko know exactly how little he appreciated the stunt they had done.
"Conan-kun, help us!"
Ayumi's teary, slightly desperate tone threw him off, and he was pretty sure that his heart had skipped a beat. Now, he wasn't sure what kind of expression had crawled onto his face, but just by looking at Ai's alone, he could tell it was one to witness.
If that woman did anything to them, I-
But then Ayumi interrupted his line of thought. "When we got on the Ferris wheel, Oneesan got sick!" And now, he supposed, he looked rather dumbly, blinking at space like he was doing, but truly, he couldn't help it. "She's in pain and holding her head."
Though it was marginally better than her threatening to murder them, or anything remotely similar, it made Conan's muscles tense up.
"She is saying something, but we are not understanding what she's saying."
"I'm taking notes!" he heard Mitsuhiko say from somewhere in the background. "I'm sending them back to you later…"
He could have been imagining things, but for a moment, Conan could swear his friend sounded different somehow. Not that he was able to pinpoint what it was, exactly, but it was serious, it was urgent. And for Conan's ever-growing paranoia, it sounded like danger.
"This is… important," he added.
Something dangerous was about to happen here, in this place.
"Conan-kun, please help us quickly!"
Yet, he had no other choice but to breathe out, to push those thoughts out, and prepare himself to act accordingly whenever the situation arose.
Thus, the moment he saw the three of them climbing down the gondola safely, in one piece, the boy could have sworn his soul crawled back into his body. No matter how distraught they appeared to be, or the concern painted on their features as if on a canvas, they were alive. And for him, it was more than enough.
The ambulance showed up quickly enough, and soon, they had lifted the white-haired woman onto a stretcher. In response to the sight, Ayumi took a single step forward, as if she wished with all her might to climb in after her, but stopped herself in the nick of time. Genta wasn't so different, though rooted in his spot, gazing worriedly at that one woman that had just saved his life moments earlier.
But Mitsuhiko showed none of that. He stood behind the group, a troubled frown crawling into his face. Tearing his eyes apart from the ambulance, he focused on the small notepad he involuntarily clutched with both hands.
Conan was just a second away from asking what was wrong ─ besides, well, the obvious ─ yet, just before anything could be done, a car parked nearby, and from it, a couple stepped out, their attention solely focused on him.
"Conan-kun," Takagi called first. "What happened to that woman?"
"She's being carried out to the medical office," he answered.
Sato nodded. "Takagi-kun, let's go."
And thus, they both rushed towards the place they were just indicated. Conan watched them go for a second longer, then nodding to himself, promptly readied himself to run after them.
"Wait, Conan-kun!" When Mitsuhiko promptly stopped him.
Confused, the boy spun around and saw him, and his terribly troubled, preoccupied expression again. He hurried closer to him, basically pressing his notepad to his torso, in a desperate need for him to take it.
"Before you go… Please, take this with you." Mitsuhiko raised his head, and looked at him straight in the eyes as he added, "Make sure to read it later."
Conan did not know of the contents that he would be able to find, and was a little scared to do so. But seeing his friend's earnest expression, the determination to get the message through made him nod.
Putting on the most reassuring smile he could muster, he accepted the object. "Sure thing," was all he said before ultimately leaving.
He wouldn't open it until much, much later. Not until after he snuck inside to talk to the doctor, ultimately coming to the knowledge of two distinct things. One, her black eye was actually a contact masking her white, almost transparent sclera. Two, there was a rare injury on her brain that she had likely possessed since birth, according to the doctor.
And a third came in the form of a notepad, scribbled notes that trembled in his suddenly weakening grip. Muting a gasp, he read them again, then again ─ in a desperate attempt to discern if he had read right.
"Stout
Aquavit
Riesling"
Conan could only stare at the words, wishing more than ever being unable to understand the implicit meaning behind them. Those were the words the woman had muttered while clutching her head, agonizing over a pain nobody could ever understand. There, at the top of the Ferris wheel, under the concerned watch of his three friends.
Seeing this Conan felt as if he could understand Mitsuhiko's sudden change of attitude, or his paling face. His writing was a little shakier, he observed later, not unlike his own limbs at the present time.
The realization that must have crossed Mitsuhiko's mind at that moment must have been horrifying at the slightest. He knew that well.
All too well.
"Hm? Something wrong, brat?"
Conan's head jerked up, coming face to face with Kogoro's raised eyebrow, directed at him from his spot on the front seat of the car ride they shared. Unable to utter a single word in response, the boy remained absolutely silent as he mentally sought for a way out of the situation at hand.
Haltingly, his mouth opened, the truth ready to flow from his lips.
But then, that one memory struck him, clawing at his mind and refusing to leave ─ that of a thin trail of pitch black smoke rising to the darkened sky.
Dropping his head again, he closed the notepad gently.
And, all of a sudden, he regretted ever sending that photo to Ran. Hadn't it been for that, the man wouldn't have broken into the clinic looking for that beautiful woman his daughter had shown him. He wouldn't be there, sitting on the same car ride as Conan on their way back home.
Conan wouldn't have needed to look at his eyes and say to his face,
"It's alright."
Even though he had long promised to tell them everything. Even though he had believed that things would change, that he wouldn't have to hide anything for them ever again.
But as long as the black smoke remained on his memories... As long as Ran's prone form on the floor, full of injuries from a fight she hadn't had to fight, was fresh in mind…
Conan turned his head to the window, the giant Ferris wheel only barely on sight anymore.
Blinking once, however, he could swear he saw a bright red tower erected in the distance before his sight turned back to normal.
Despite the churning on his stomach, Conan did not allow the slightest hint of a frown on his face, knowing well enough that the strangely sharp gaze coming from the rearview mirror had not vanished at all.
A faint buzzing against his leg broke him out of his stupor, long enough to pluck out his phone from his pocket. Again, he forced his expression to remain neutral, a blank stare fixated on the contact on the screen that did not cease from calling.
But patiently, he waited. Waited until his caller finally saw reason and gave up contacting him. Only then did he allow his shoulders to sag, unlocking it easily to write one last message ─ promptly ignoring that notification popping on his screen, Mitsuhiko's name barely in sight. He could explain things later.
First, he needed to contact Jodie. It was getting late as it was, and with Kogoro here, arranging a meeting for that day did not seem likely. Perhaps, if it was tomorrow, they'd have better luck doing so without raising suspicion.
Sending one last look to the back of the man sitting at the passenger seat, Conan inwardly nodded to himself, and acted as per his thoughts.
I'm sorry, Occhan. But I can't let it happen again.
"Don't worry about it, Professor. I'll leave that other thing to you."
A wave of a hand, a smile on his face, the boy promptly closed the door shut behind him. Normally, as it had been every other day he visited the older man, Conan would soon be out of sight, running off to whatever case he had been chasing today, hoping not to waste another minute of his far too precious, far too short time.
Yet, in this instance, it was different. A heavy sigh dispelled the smile, his back leaning ever so slightly to rest behind the door. Eyes closing, the boy quieted down, and did not move again.
Well, that went horribly.
And for once, it hadn't even been because of his input, or lack thereof. In fact, he hadn't gotten the chance to do anything, even less, give her the chance to be properly annoyed by him.
Because she hadn't even wanted to face him.
Shaking his head, his focus went to the phone in his hand, and rapidly typed something.
The reply did not take long to arrive.
"We told you so."
His eyebrow twitched as he leaned closer to the phone, a scowl clear on his features. Fingers stopped mid-way before they could even graze the screen, annoyance still visible, yet diminished somehow. That was because, actually, his friends were right. He had been warned about it.
A day had passed ever since they had met that young woman in the aquarium, thus, giving its way to that one event everyone had been looking forward to, planned it out to the slightest detail to commemorate the birth of their dear friend.
The fact that the aforementioned girl would lock herself in her basement and refuse to interact with anyone had been a little off their expectations. Such had been the realization that had met Mitsuhiko, Ayumi and Genta, who had gone out of their way to congratulate her earlier, only to be turned out without a word.
Conan had known beforehand this would happen, but he had tried anyway, only to be met by Agasa's apologetic smile, and a pile of gifts dropped somewhere at the corner from those friends that had failed to meet her today.
Unconsciously, his hand slid inside his pocket, absently playing with the curly strands of a ribbon Ran had helped him choose. Inwardly, he worried it would stay tucked in there forever.
"What should we do?" Ayumi's text popped up on his screen. He could almost hear the concerned inflection of her voice from there. "About the party…"
"If Haibara-san doesn't want one, we can't force her, Ayumi-chan," Mitsuhiko replied. "Maybe we should let her be."
"Then, there's no feast?!" Genta typed back right away.
"It seems we should just cancel…"
"No."
Conan paused, almost surprised to see that one word that had been sent from his phone, typed by his own fingers. Nobody had added anything else, and for a full second, it remained that way. Maybe his sudden conviction had shocked everyone else into silence.
Sending one last look over his shoulder, towards the newly closed front door of her house, Conan felt himself frown.
"We're having that party today," he wrote, nodding to himself with each word. "I'll fix this mess right away and drag her out of her lab if I have to."
"But Conan-kun…" Naturally, Mitsuhiko was the first to reply. "Isn't that a bit selfish?"
Conan hesitated, because it kinda was selfish, when he thought about it. He had been on that spot, wishing nothing but mentally giving their friends amnesia so that they could forget about that one day. For them to leave him be, because it was just one normal day, he had once believed, so there was no need to make it that much of a big deal.
But, in the end, I didn't exactly… dislike it.
"As much as I agree with Conan-kun," began Ayumi. "We should leave this for later, guys."
"Ah, that's right!" Genta typed back. "We have to hurry or we'll be late!"
Conan blinked at the screen, cluelessly.
Now, he didn't know if Mitsuhiko had some kind of mind reading powers, or was secretly a stalker and was watching him right now, but he seemed to pick up on his confusion right away.
"We were planning to visit Oneesan at the hospital," he wrote. "Would you want to come along, Conan-kun?"
His eyes widened slightly, eyeing the chat for several seconds, until a frown came up to his features.
"No, you're not."
"Yes, we are."
"Guys."
"She's our friend and we're going to visit her."
"Mitsuhiko. You can't be serious."
And for the next few seconds, he just stood there, eyes solely focused on those three dots in the lower half on the screen, blinking as an indication of Mitsuhiko's incessant typing. Eventually, they disappeared without leaving a single new message on his chat.
Ayumi was the next to speak up. "We heard everything from Mitsuhiko-kun."
"Cool," Conan replied. "At least you know why this is a terrible idea."
"But it changes nothing!" Genta joined in. "She saved me, Conan! She can't be a bad person!"
"That's only because she can't remember she's a member of the Organization."
"So what?" Ayumi wrote back. "Ai-chan was part of it, too. And she's not a bad person!"
Groaning to himself, Conan's grip on the phone tightened, fingers rapidly moving across the screen as he typed his response, before halting, looking at it once more. With a frustrated sigh, he deleted everything and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
In a flash, he had hopped on his skateboard and driven away, shaking his head from time to time, far too deeply immersed in his own racing thoughts for anything else.
Situated at the designated spot where Jodie and he had decided to meet, Conan plucked the phone once more. The messages of his friends remained unread, a few missed calls from a certain someone ignored. He just dialed a number and waited.
Beat after beat resounded in his ears, making it known that it was in vain. Again, he tried. And again.
She isn't picking up. He gave up somewhere between the fourth and fifth time, heaving a long sigh. I don't know what I have been expecting.
In his hand, the phone buzzed back to life. He didn't even glance over at it, answering the call with nothing but a raised eyebrow.
"Finally," he said. "I was starting to believe you wouldn't pick up."
The female, cold tone of the small scientist he was expecting did not come. "I should be the one saying that." Instead, it was male, deeper and visually older.
Realization hit him suddenly. Conan did not even bother to hide a groan.
"I'm sorry, Oniichan," he said. "I haven't been paying attention to my phone lately."
"I understand." From his voice alone, the boy could tell his older brother was decidedly not pleased ─ in fact, that sentence couldn't possibly be further off the truth. "That's what happens when you're too focused on a case."
Conan paused, the small smile he had forced on his features vanishing completely and replaced by a frown. "Who?" was all he asked.
"Kuroba," Shinichi answered. "Then asked Ai-chan for the details you didn't want to share."
"She talked with you?"
"This morning, yeah."
"By phone?"
There was an odd pause, and even from there, Conan could hear the teenage detective's confusion. But he didn't explain further, nor did he ask for any clarifications, for he already understood it pretty well, and had always known, from a long while ago.
Of course. If it's him, she would always pick up.
A sigh from the other side of the phone brought him out of his thoughts. "To tell you the truth, I wish I didn't have to resort to that," he confessed. "I would have liked to get them from you."
"You're the last person I'd have liked to hear that from."
"That's how you deal with it?" Shinichi snorted, yet far from good-hearted and amused as per usual, it was grim and dry. "Acting tough to hide how scared you really are?"
"Let me guess," he said, clearly irritated. For a moment, Shinichi worried he would unexpectedly hang up on him, yet he didn't. "She also told you that."
"She didn't have to."
Conan fell silent.
But kept on listening either way, seeing that he was still on the line. Shinichi wasn't about to lose that chance. He breathed in deeply, and then his words escaped his lips. Softer than the wind, a tint of a foreign emotion Conan couldn't really deduce on the spot.
"I wish I could tell you that everything was going to be okay." Maybe it was sadness mixed with something akin to regret, or even frustration. Or everything, all at the same time. "That no harm will ever get to you, because I'll be there to protect you."
Even though Conan could not see it, Shinichi's hands curled into fists. He didn't need to, however, as his feelings weren't failing to reach him, splashing and leaving him soaking wet.
"But I have failed far too many times to be confident about it."
Both hands cradled the phone to his ear, eyebrows brought together, he whispered, "Oniichan..."
"If you keep doing things on your own, it won't end well for anybody. Especially for yourself," added Shinichi. "And I might be speaking from experience here."
But Conan did not agree or disagree. His silence bothered him, worried him more than he would have been willing to admit, or even believe himself.
"Conan. Please." He wasn't above pleading at this point of time. "I don't want it to happen the same way."
For a beat, he remained quiet. Then, at the next, his murmured words flowed back to him.
"Then… Would you do something for me?"
"What is it?" he asked, no hesitance on his part.
Thus, he summarized the problem and the following request in only a few minutes, and by the time he received an affirmative response, a silvery white Mercedes came to a stop, parking right in front of him. Seeing this as a cue to end the conversation, he turned his attention to the phone, a hand stretched to open the door.
"I'll leave it to you, then. Thank you."
"Just be careful, alright?"
Without further ado, Shinichi hung up the call, oblivious to the boy who had frozen in place, inches before committing to his own actions. Haltingly, he stepped aside, peering around to the back of the vehicle.
Hand to his chest, he heaved out a relieved sigh. The license plate was right.
It's safe. With that thought in mind, he hurried to finally get in, smiling sheepishly at the look he received from Jodie as he slid into the seat next to her.
"It doesn't hurt to check," he said.
And she added nothing else, not that there was anything she could say to that. So, he turned back to face Camel, then focused back on the one in the driver's seat, James Black ─ it had been a long while, thought Conan, since he had seen that man. Considering that, and the frown that decorated his tough features, made the boy jump to the conclusion that this was no light matter. That this was serious.
Soon, that guess became a certainty. Eyes narrowing on the three photographs lying on the backseat that Jodie was sliding towards him, he listened attentively as James relied on the information, and explained who those people were. Or rather, who they used to be.
MI6, CSIS, BND… Intelligence agents from various countries had been assassinated one after another, and who knew how many of them were being eliminated as they spoke. Everything just confirmed the report they had received from Akai just a few days ago. That of an agent of that one organization stealing data from the National Police Agency.
A deep-rooted feeling of dread was settling onto his shoulders, gently sliding its icy hands across his skin, fingers curling around his neck.
He fought the shiver that overcame him suddenly.
"Jodie-sensei. You mentioned you were planning on summoning me before I contacted you." He ignored it, as well as he could, in favor of tackling the problem at hand. "It's because I've been in contact with someone you believe to be the agent, right?"
She nodded. Conan shook his head.
"She has amnesia," he told her. "The phone that could be the recording medium was broken, too-"
"A smart phone?!" exclaimed James, all that calm composure from before was gone with the wind. "Did she possess one?"
"It was on a bench until I came along." The FBI boss opened his mouth to speak, but Conan added quickly, "The Professor is almost finished recovering the data. I'm not letting you take it and ship it off to America to make an identical analysis process."
Slowly, he nodded. Had it been any other time, he would probably wonder what made these FBI agents ─ grown adults ─ trust the word of an elementary school student so easily. But it made things simpler, so he wasn't about to complain.
"Then let me know as soon as you have analyzed it. If we don't find out how much information has been leaked as soon as possible, the whole world will be plunged into panic."
Which wasn't good ─ no need for a detective to deduce that.
Almost fearfully, Conan asked, "What sort of data was stolen?"
This time, it was Jodie's time to answer, "Non-official cover."
The icy hands tightened their grip, all but stealing his breath away.
A NOC list. This had to be a joke, it had to be. It's just like the other time…
Yet extremely different, at the same time. In the past, it had been a memory card what Irish had been searching for, one that contained all those NOCs from the Black Organization infiltrated all over the globe. At the occasion in hand, it was the exact opposite. They didn't even know if it was a memory card that they were looking for.
It did little to soothe him. And for good reason, too.
"They have obtained the key to the intelligence war," murmured Conan, fists clenching.
James nodded solemnly.
"If it comes to that, the three assassinations this time might just be the beginning."
Ayumi had a bad feeling from the moment that Mitsuhiko stepped away from the reception desk, turning back around and jogging back their way, far too quickly to be reasonable. His dejected sigh, and shake of his head, confirmed what she had been suspecting from the beginning.
"We can't go in," informed Mitsuhiko. "Looks like she can't meet anyone."
Her head dipped forward. She knew it.
"Is she that sick?" she wondered.
Genta crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. "Or maybe they're like Conan and Haibara," he suggested. "They don't like her."
Ayumi nodded. To be fair, that thought had been in her mind, but she had been too stubborn to believe it. "Maybe they found out," she murmured. "About… You know."
"We'll just need to find that out."
Equally confused blinks met Mitsuhiko's sight, prompting him to smirk. Immediately, he pulled out his phone, rapidly typing something on it. Satisfied, he gave it one last look, and went to show it to his friends.
"Using this-"
"Using what?"
None of them got to witness what he had been so confident about, but they did get to see large fingers easily plucking it out from his sight. For a moment, Mitsuhiko did not react, then slowly, his eyes flickered over to his now empty hand.
There was a heavy sigh coming from above. He craned his head, and a bored look was revealed to him, yet rather than specifically aimed at him, it seemed to be directed at the phone ─ his phone ─ in his grasp.
"You kids know you aren't supposed to call the police unless there's an actual emergency, right?" the tall person said. "Let poor Detective Takagi do his job in peace."
The confusion soon dispelled, enough for Ayumi to let out a startled gasp. "S-Shinichi-oniisan!"
A violent twitch later found the high school frantically looking around, only calming down after making sure that nobody had heard that. Then, he gave her a pointed, and annoyed, glance.
"Arthur-oniisan for you, young lady." Realizing her mistake, Ayumi covered her mouth with her hands, causing him to sigh, not for the first time today. "Geez, Conan wasn't lying when he said you were a loud bunch…"
Locking it back again, Shinichi returned Mitsuhiko his phone who, in turn, gazed at it for a second, before lifting his head to him again.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I was sent by Conan," answered the detective. "To keep his stupid friends from doing stupid things. His words, not mine."
Mitsuhiko stared at him dead in the eye, then turned to whisper at his friends, "Is it wrong that I'm not even doubting it?"
Nobody answered him.
Genta stepped forward, his face scrunched up in both annoyance and anger. "Well, tell him he is the stupid one!" he shouted. "Because he can't understand she's not evil! She's our friend!"
Raising an eyebrow, Shinichi commented, "Maybe you should review your friendships…"
"See? You're starting to sound like him!"
He held back yet another sigh, conforming himself with a mere shake of his head. Making sure to settle a friendly smile on his face, the detective crouched down, allowing the three children to gather around him, to stare at him with that look of utter curiosity that was so terribly common to children of their age. He knew of quite a few examples to back that up.
"He doesn't want you to get hurt, that's all," he said in a whisper. The smile faltered ever imperceptibly, yet stood firm at the end. "Believe me, I'd have loved to have someone like him around to warn me at the right time."
Mitsuhiko's stare remained firmer and much more intense than any of his visually confused friends. It was like he could perceive there was something more, something deeper about his words, yet at the moment, lacked specific information to draw up his own conclusions.
Shinichi knew. Because he had seen that same kind of look in Conan's eyes several times in the past.
"Shinichi-san…"
He wanted to ask so badly, but his own timid, polite personality held him back from doing so. Shinichi was aware of it, too. But rather than answering, he offered one last grin and went back to his feet.
"Glad we had this talk," he said. "Off to home we go."
A general wave of whining did not take long to appear.
"No way."
"We're staying here!"
Bringing his hand to his forehead, Shinichi felt as if he could understand his little brother just a little more.
"Wait, there's an Othello board over there!"
"Oh! Let's play, let's play!"
"I guess we could kill some time until we can sneak inside!"
"Hey."
And here Shinichi had thought his babysitting days had been over. Granted, being an older brother implied that the job was nowhere over, but at this point, he felt the thought that this case was different, somehow, was properly justified.
At least, whenever he hung out with Conan, he was never forced to sit there, tagging up with Genta playing Othello while keeping a strict watch on them ─ they had openly admitted their intentions to sneak inside the woman's room, they hadn't even bothered to hide it.
This wasn't the kind of help I was expecting to be asked. Rubbing his face, Shinichi physically fought not to let himself show how badly he was cringing at Genta's last, horrible move. Though I can't say Conan's concern is unjustified.
Just by looking at them, he knew. He had a good reason to be worried. Several at that.
To be fair, Shinichi had good reasons on his own to be concerned for the bespectacled mini detective, in turn. He should be meeting with the FBI right now. Or that was what he told him over the phone. At least he isn't running around doing his thing… Which was better, sort of. Marginally better.
He inwardly winced. I need to find a way to send them back home and check on him. Somehow.
There was also that other thing he couldn't get his mind off. I messaged Akai-san about it a few minutes ago. But he had yet to receive an answer ─ he hoped he would see it soon. Just before getting here, I stopped by Poirot.
His eyes narrowed lightly. Furuya-san wasn't there. Which normally wouldn't be all that strange, he supposed, but after learning of the strange codenames the woman had been murmuring after her collapse at the Ferris wheel, he had quite the bad feeling about it.
But he wasn't concerned, no. Not at all.
Genta's glare shot at him momentarily broke him out from his thoughts. "You're terrible at Othello, Tantei-niichan," he told him.
He raised his eyebrow. "That was your move."
"Yeah, but you didn't warn me!"
Shinichi did not know what the point was anymore.
"You can't expect Shinichi-san to play for you," said Mitsuhiko, between laughs. "You're bad at Othello..." Grinning from ear to ear, he placed his game piece on the board, and flipped Genta's over. "So accept the truth already, Genta-kun!"
As Genta's groan and Mitsuhiko's snickering found their way to his ears, Shinichi could not help the soft chuckle that escaped him. Well, at least they were having fun.
Not everyone, though.
"Is something wrong, Ayumi-chan?" he asked her.
But the girl's fists clenched further on her dress, her gaze still cast somewhere on the floor.
"Say, Shinichi-oniisan…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "You…"
"What is it?"
"You were part of them, weren't you?" He nodded, not sure what was the point she wanted to get across. "Ai-chan, as well."
"Yes…" he said, slowly. "We were"
"And both of you managed to run away from there…" Her head snapped back up, a frown shaping her every feature. Her hands gripped her dress tightly enough to leave them trembling. "Say, can't she leave, too?"
Shinichi sat back, disconcerted. But Ayumi jumped back on her feet, looking a second away to walk up to him, yet stopping herself somehow.
"Conan-kun said you have saved a lot of people!"
Her eyes watered, and suddenly, the teenager couldn't help but being suddenly remembered of a certain, equally sensitive girl, possessor of a will of steel and a great righteous heart.
"You can save her too, right? Shinichi-oniisan!"
Yet, just like her, she was too bright to look at.
Shinichi was forced to look away, silent, unable to put together a proper response.
So seemed to be the case for the other two boys, who did nothing but exchange troubled looks, their lips completely sealed. For Mitsuhiko especially, however, the turn of his head caused his eyes to widen, seemingly spotting something interesting, as proved by his gaze, straying to a certain spot above his friend's head.
"Oh, Detective Takagi!" he exclaimed.
Indeed, there, peeking from inside the hallway they had been told to stay away from, was Takagi. He only got to send one glance over their direction and he was already cringing, taking a step backwards out of instinct at the sight of children running their way to him.
Wait, children?
It took a moment for Shinichi to realize what was going on, then sigh accordingly. Those kids had already snuck off him without his notice. Standing up, and slowly making his way towards them, he reflected on how he wasn't made for this. Children ─ these kind of children ─ were definitely not his forte.
He didn't even get there, but by their expressions alone, he could tell they had finally found what, or rather who, they had been searching for so long.
"Oneesan!"
"Good to see that you're okay!"
"Your head doesn't hurt anymore?"
Suddenly, he halted.
There she was, the mysterious woman he had heard so much about. Long white hair, mismatched eyes and a bright, sweet smile directed at the children, solely to them.
"Yeah, I'm fine now, thank you."
Yet, he said nothing. Not a word when Megure confessed he was not supposed to allow the kids to see her, nor when he said he would let them anyway since they seemed to get along so well, hoping that they could prove useful to recover her memories.
Nothing left his lips. All he really did was sit there, watching her playing Othello with the children, similarly to what he had been doing minutes prior. He saw her taking his spot, teaming up with Genta, yet unlike him, she seemed glad to help him, actively telling him every move he was supposed to do.
He watched her cover her mouth delicately, giggles shaking her body from time to time.
She's odd-eyed. His eyes narrowed. Exactly like Shiho-chan said she would be.
She had said so alright, her voice trembling with palpable fear, this morning over the phone. An understandable reaction, reasoned the detective, considering that her theory was quite the valid one, if he stopped to think about it. In the event that this woman did not, in fact, have heterochromia but an artificial eye instead, everything would take a much more serious, and infinitely dangerous, turn.
For Shiho, who had once been captured by that one-eyed man, it must have been a specially alarming thought.
"To make things worse, that idiot you have for a brother doesn't seem to listen to reason!" she had told him in the middle of a ranting session. There had been a groan, and he had been perfectly capable of picturing her carding her fingers through her hair. "Why can't he understand?! The possibility of Rum being alive places him in an unbelievable kind of danger!"
A frown settled on his face, one that he was incapable of wiping off right away.
"If that woman turns out to be Rum… and ends up remembering him…"
"Is everything okay?"
Shinichi would have loved to say that he hadn't jumped, spooked out of his mind when Sato, who sat right next to him, spoke to him all of a sudden. It would have been nice if he could have managed to hide it all inside, and slowly turned to her to inquire the meaning behind her words. Yet, sadly, none of that happened.
His head simply snapped towards her, her stiff smile an indicator of how poorly his intended reaction had been executed.
"Ah, nothing at all," he said, laughing sheepishly. "I was tasked with watching over them by their parents, that's all."
"You're quite a responsible young man," commented Takagi. "To take your task so seriously…"
Shinichi managed nothing but a shaky nod, hoping that they would drop the topic as soon as possible. Eager to focus on anything else but the detectives casually hanging out with him, he busied himself to watch the kids again, only to realize they weren't playing anymore.
There was something white resting on Genta's palm, yet he only got to see it the moment the woman plucked it out of his hands to scrutinize it. It was a dolphin-shaped keychain, gently swaying as she held it up.
"The man from the darts booth gave it to us," explained Ayumi.
"He said, 'paint it in any color you want'," added Mitsuhiko.
Her gaze tore apart from her gift to settle in Genta, clearly surprised. "Really?" she muttered. "Can I have it?"
"Of course, because you saved my life!"
Rather flashily so, as per Shiho's retelling of the events. It had been a truly remarkable feat, that practically nobody else would ever be able to replicate which, while undoubtedly amazing, it was quite worrying by itself. Shiho's reaction to her presence had been proof enough of it.
The three children had plucked similar keychains, too, only that colored differently. They were grinning brightly, overjoyed at the prospect.
"Oneesan, now we're the same!"
"We all have matching keychains. Even Haibara-san and Conan-kun have one."
So Conan has one of those, too, huh? Shinichi wasn't surprised, but a little amused.
"What color do you want to color it in?"
"Red? Pink?"
"I'd paint it black and make it look like an orca!"
Internally, Shinichi mused on how fitting that color would be, much more than Genta, in all his childish innocence, would be able to realize. Black, raven black. Just like the organization that had swallowed most of their lives, shadowing their souls with a single touch ─ an organization that she, beyond any doubt, also belonged to.
"But I think white suits you better than black!" Genta continued, oblivious to Shinichi's darkening thoughts.
Oblivious to the true nature of the woman who had selflessly saved his life. Laughing carefully, not knowing that everything pointed out to the fact that he had hoped to prove wrong that day.
Those eyes… Those incredible, almost inhuman physical abilities…
There was no doubt about her identity any longer.
Curaçao. The agent who was said to be the closest to Rum when he was alive. His confidant.
Which meant, naturally, that she was not Rum. Though he couldn't bring himself to say that was a good thing.
"Say," Sato called him. "Hirai-kun, was it?"
He blinked. "Yes?"
"Have we met before?"
Shinichi wasn't sure how to answer that.
"We did, remember?" Takagi joined, grinning. "That case with the Red Siamese Cats…"
"Oh! The Kaito KID's closet fan?"
He inwardly groaned. I was hoping they would forget that. But fought against it, forcing a polite smile instead. "We've met a couple of times besides that one, right, Detective Takagi?"
He swore, from the deepest part of his soul, that he was going to make Hattori pay for that.
One day, surely.
Sato did not seem to care about it, or maybe she interpreted whatever ounce of anger he had failed to hide as something completely unrelated to the truth. Her smile vanished, seemed to hesitate a little, then opened her mouth.
"Excuse me."
She did not get to, as a group of men he had not seen once in his life made a sudden appearance, and immediately, the entire lobby of that hospital fell quiet. Their stoic expressions, the neat suits they were wearing, their extremely stiff posture ─ for Shinichi, it was relatively easy to deduce who those men were.
The individual in the middle stepped slightly ahead from the rest, his eyes instantly finding Inspector Megure's.
"I'm Kazami, from the Public Security Bureau."
I knew it, was everything the detective could think at the moment. His features hardened out of instinct, his eyes narrowing and sharpening as if there was something to deduce, or anything to do, really. Their intentions were clear, and to be fair, he had been expecting something like this to happen at some point.
They wanted Curaçao, for she was their prime suspect from the break-in at the National Police Agency. And while the inspector, and those affiliated with him, did not want to do so, they weren't really in any position to object to it.
Therefore, they left with the inspector, silently promising to return shortly after they had taken care of the documentation required for this. Once then Sato, much to her regret, walked over to the confused, and clearly upset, group gathered behind the Othello board to tell the woman that she should get going to her room.
Naturally, the three kids objected, loudly so. As pointless as that might be.
But at least, the woman was allowed to turn around and grace them with a smile one last time.
"Thank you, everyone," she whispered, clutching her white dolphin close to her chest. "I'll take good care of this."
Her voice was warm, noted Shinichi, filled with love for those children she had clearly grown to adore. It was still a wonder, one that Shinichi did not wish to prove, that those feelings would remain when those dreadful memories wafted back to her. Or if her heart would turn pitch black again, guiding her back to her old path filled with nothing but blood and darkness.
So different from that beautiful smile that lit up her face. Shinichi wondered if that would prevail, or if it would inevitably fade away as well.
"Let's ride the Ferris wheel together again someday," she proposed.
Everyone agreed instantly.
"Yes!"
"Definitely!"
"Let's ride one!"
As their time ran thin, they were forced to separate ways. Silently, he walked up to the three kids, standing right behind them as the woman finally turned about to leave.
For less than a moment, Shinichi's eyes met with hers. It had been brief, far too short to draw conclusions of any kind, but in a way, he felt… different from what he had expected it to be. Not a single shiver wracked his body whole, leaving his blood freezing solid and his instincts roaring to get away. Not the slightest hitch of his breathing, not even the faintest chill running down his spine.
Nothing.
He decided not to think much of it. I'm not as sensitive to these things as Conan, he reasoned. Smiling gently, he crouched right behind the trio, who remained rooted in place, their concerned, longing gazes fixated on the white strands of hair that swayed with every step she took away from them. I'm not good at that.
Gingerly, he placed his hands on top of their heads, one on Mitsuhiko's head, the other on Genta's. Surprised, Ayumi, who was situated in the middle, turned around.
Her big pleading eyes were on him, saying too much without uttering a single word.
He pretended not to notice.
"You should go home," he told them, softly. "Come, I'll escort you all to the bus stop."
Better make sure they weren't running off anywhere else. Hopefully, that would suffice.
"Oh, Conan. The analysis is done."
Never in his life had Conan scrambled off the couch he had taken so fast, stumbling on his own feet as he tried to get to the professor as quickly as he physically could. In no time, he had reached him, and Agasa, understanding the urgency the situation required, simply repositioned the monitor so that the kid could look at it for himself.
The most recent transmission data, recovered from the phone that the woman had been carrying, was there for him to gawk at. And clearly, he did not like what he had found ─ Agasa had known he wouldn't, from the moment he had taken a glimpse of what the message had looked like:
"The NOCs are Stout, Aquavit, Riesling.
And the ones you care about, Bourbon and Kir…"
Even though the text had been cut in the middle, it granted the boy no sense of relief. He didn't even try to hide his groan, hurriedly requesting him to analyze the receiver of that email and call him the moment he found that out.
"Understood-" Conan barely even waited, running off to fetch the skateboard he had dropped somewhere earlier today. "Ah, but wait a second, Conan!"
He skidded to a halt, all but tripping on his own feet. "What is it?" he asked, eyebrows rising. "I'm in a hurry!"
But the Professor did not get the chance to see any of it, far too busy rummaging through his own things to pay attention to that. A grin broke through his once focused expression, pulling something out from the mess of gadgets he had lying about, and hastily found his way back to the perplexed boy.
Now in his hands was a belt, not too different from the one he already possessed. So, to say he was confused might as well be an understatement.
"I created this for Ai-kun." His head jerked back up, his bewilderment rising exponentially, just like his surprise. "It was supposed to be a surprise for her… But I thought it would be best for you to keep it."
Agasa wasn't looking at him anymore, an odd glint in his eyes as he glanced downwards. Conan said nothing about that, his eyes only widening slightly as he made the briefest explanation of its functions to him. Once finished, he gazed down at it again, his fingers curling around it, clenching tightly.
"Thank you, Professor."
He did not take notice of the teal-colored eyes peeking right at him from behind the door. He did not notice her presence as he threw it open, hoping to make up for the lost time by hastening his pace, fully conscious of what the consequences would be, were he to be any slower.
There was something, though, latching, curling around his wrist. His steps halted, and for a single heartbeat, he did not move again. Even though he did not know for sure how much he stood there for, rooted in place while struggling to rise above the shock his mind was immersed in, but it felt like a few minutes at least.
The grasp was unyielding despite his attempts to free himself, and soon, he recognized it as fingers. His eyes went large, finally connecting the dots and figuring out who exactly was right behind him, even though he had yet to turn around.
"Don't go." Her tone was soft, her voice was shaky ─ just like the hold on his hand. "Please."
Only a few times Conan had heard her plead like that. None of them had ever sat well with him, and surely, this was by no means an exception.
He bit his lip.
"I've told you before…" he began, quietly, as if not to break the stillness that had settled between them. "Don't run away from fate."
In her eyes, the fear wasn't even bothering to conceal itself. It was there, unmasked for him to see the moment he finally turned around.
But he smiled, as warmly and reassuringly as he could possibly manage, and confessed,
"I don't want to run from it either."
Shock was visible, too, from every corner of her soul. Her hold slacked, and it allowed him to easily slip away from it.
Thus, Conan ran, not risking a single glance back.
I don't want to run from fate, he reaffirmed in his head. No matter how tempting it might be right now… I don't want to.
For he didn't want to live like that, fearing that it would come for him at some point, or for anyone he held close to his heart. I'll run straight to it, and deal with it as soon as possible.
And then, he would come back. He would definitely come back ─ everyone would.
There's no other way.
His hand slid inside his pocket, even if his legs had yet to stop moving. Fingers finally found their way to what they had been looking for, squeezing lightly.
There are still things left for me to do here.