File One Hundred and Forty-Nine: The Wataru Brothers

So here they were, he thought.

It was well into the morning when Mitsuhiko stood, alongside his friends Ayumi and Genta, in front of the Tokyo Police Department Headquarters. Which was not an unusual sight at all, for they had already been summoned there so many times that he actually lost count, but this time found him questioning his own life choices that led him, and the others, to such a place.

Without a well-thought reason to explain their presence, Mitsuhiko felt a little uncomfortable.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Genta had such an awkward smile on his face that, for a moment, made Mitsuhiko feel a little relieved somehow. Maybe they weren't so different, after all.

But then, he told him, "You go first."

"What?!" Spluttering, Mitsuhiko stepped back. "Why me?!"

"Why, because I'm telling you! I'm the leader, after all."

Even though he tried, Mitsuhiko failed to put together a proper response. After all these years, Genta-kun still believes he's the leader? he thought in disbelief. Seriously?

"I agree with Genta-kun!" Ayumi said, nodding encouragingly back at him. "You're the smartest out of all three of us, Mitsuhiko-kun. Our best pick!"

Her praise triggered a nervous chuckle, and it didn't fall on him that maybe he shouldn't just agree with her until his hand was already scratching the back of his head and warmth had risen to his face.

"But what am I even going to tell them?" Mitsuhiko said, oddly exasperated. "It's not like we can report Conan-kun as missing."

Though, to be fair, they probably wouldn't question it. Conan wasn't exactly a stranger to that sort of thing.

"Why can't we?" Genta argued. "He wasn't at the agency, or at his old home… Or at the Professor's."

"He didn't come to our morning exercises, even though we told him to come!" Ayumi said, her eyebrows knitted together. "We couldn't find him at the library either." She paused, pondering over it for a little, then sighed. "If only Honda-kun was there, we could've asked him if he knew anything."

Mitsuhiko tried not to sigh, but wasn't successful. "But Ran-san wasn't worried, now was she?" he tried to reason. "Even Haibara-san told us to leave him be."

"But it's Conan who we're talking about!" Genta argued. "He could be in trouble!"

He wished he could rebut his logic, but sadly, he couldn't argue against it.

"Well, that definitely sounds a lot like Conan-kun, doesn't it?"

The voice, sudden and completely familiar, certainly alarmed him. Yet, it was a cold, small something that startled him enough to jump back with a small shriek. And thus, confusion settled in when he registered there was a white, fluffy ball in front of him, wagging its tail at his bewildered self.

That was a dog ─ a Hokkaido breed dog, to be exact, and it had nosed him on the leg just now.

"A doggy!" It was a given that Ayumi wouldn't be able to help herself, falling on her knees to gush at the unfamiliar animal. "So cute~!"

From the corner of his eye, Mitsuhiko noticed Genta flinching. He was about to ask what was wrong, when he heard that same voice say,

"His name is Haro." It had the freckled boy's head snapping towards the source, his eyes widening like Genta's had just now. "Seems he's taken a liking to you."

Ayumi grinned, wide and bright, but suddenly, she felt herself being lifted to her feet. Surprised, she opened her eyes to see Genta pushing her back, and Mitsuhiko slightly tensing up as he took a hesitant step forward.

In front of her, there was a platinum blonde young man bearing a polite smile on his face. The sight made her freeze.

That man, realized Ayumi, her hand instinctively reaching for her badge. He's the member Conan-kun warned us about!

He laughed amicably, raising his hands as if to demonstrate he was inoffensive. As if to prove a point, the puppy barked happily, the speed of his tail-wagging increasing further, if possible.

They all squinted their eyes in suspicion.

"What's with all of you?" said Amuro with a smile. "Haro's a good boy ─ he isn't going to bite you."

"I-I'm sure he is," Mitsuhiko said.

Or, at the very least, he could be sure he wouldn't bug their phone, unlike some other people he knew. Well, probably.

"In any case, I don't think you should bother the police if you don't really need any help," Amuro said, turning his head to glance at the building. "I heard there was a huge commotion there last night."

"Last night?" asked Mitsuhiko, curious. "What kind of commotion?"

"I think you should be asking your friend instead of me." A smirk crossed Amuro's features as he added, "I heard it has something to do with phantom thieves and the like."

Just like that, he tugged gently on Haro's leash, and together, they walked past the paralyzed trio to leave for good. They didn't react at first, only managing to send each other similarly bewildered looks, until eventually, they all gasped ─ in perfect synchrony.

Ayumi started to run towards the entrance, but didn't even get to make it two steps before Mitsuhiko held her shoulders. She didn't wait for him to explain his actions, instead frowning as she spun around to face him.

"We need to ask!" Ayumi argued. "As detectives, we need to know exactly what is going on!"

Mitsuhiko flinched. "But we could just ask Conan-kun-"

"He's not even answering his phone!" Genta rebutted. "We'll have a better chance asking around than waiting for him to pick up!"

"Detective Takagi will surely tell us something!" Ayumi finished.

Mitsuhiko deflated, sensing defeat. Hanging his head low, he released his friend, and took his first step into what he thought to be a pretty bad idea.

But then they heard it.

"Say… You were talking about Detective Wataru Takagi, right?"

And behind them, they found an elderly man carrying a strange package in their hands. Little had any of those kids known what kind of dangers would await them after such a mundane, casual encounter.

"I expect you to return those tomorrow at your earliest convenience. Thoroughly washed, since I don't want your detective germs anywhere in a one kilometer radius of me, lest I want to end up solving murders in my sleep."

"You live with my brother."

"Sure, but imagine it mutates and I somehow become Tantei-san instead? Yikes."

Conan willed himself to keep quiet, though even he wasn't strong enough to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Leaning over the table, he glanced almost longingly towards the kitchen ─ a place he'd rather be, if that meant staying out of here and the rambling phantom thief sitting in front of him.

Maybe KID had a point ─ maybe he should just burn these clothes he had loaned, just in case he ended up skipping under the moon with a stupid grin on his face because of some strange, undiscovered infection.

But since his clothes had been too dirty for use, thanks to last night's heist, Conan did not think he had another option ─ it wasn't like there were any other seven-year-olds whose clothes he could borrow around. Aoko's childhood clothes were too girly for his tastes, so unfortunately, Kaito's were the next best thing.

"That would be a much needed improvement," Conan mumbled, unable to help himself. "But sadly, I believe you're unfixable."

A hopeless case, he confirmed when he saw his very exaggerated wince.

"Besides, Hakuba-san is a much better listener than you could ever hope to be," the kid added, shooting him a pointed look. "I told you, you look absolutely ridiculous in black."

"Well, I suppose there is a certain charm in my lovely white, classic attire."

"I assume there's also a certain charm about stealing someone else's identity."

Conan wasn't looking at him ─ just stared back ahead, with an expression that not even Kaito and his vast experience as a stage magician could read.

"You're not KID anymore… Corbeau, it is, huh?"

It had been whispered, so softly that Kaito wouldn't have heard, had he not been paying attention. But he had, and now he was left to wonder if he ought to pretend anything different. He settled in silence, examining him, long and profusely, even though he didn't get a reaction in return.

"Even if it appears to be different, the moon in the sky is always the same one."

A grin spread like wildfire throughout his face at that bewildered expression, now visible in the small detective's features. Winking, Kaito added, "Keep the secret for me, will you, Tantei-kun?"

Conan just stared blankly back at him, which, admittedly, wasn't exactly the one Kaito had expected him to choose out of the plethora of other faces he could make.

"Sure," Conan said, of all things. "But only if you let me on something."

First came the twitch of an eyebrow, a gesture not at all uncommon when he was in the little detective's vicinity. However, the thief would admit to being confused, especially when he rested his elbows on the table ─ fingers gracing their counterpart on his other hand, head tilted forward with a sigh.

"Just… What was wrong with you?" He seemed to want to kill him, burst out laughing, and cry ─ all at the same time. Kaito wondered how he planned on doing that.

Finally, Conan settled with a snort.

"Did you seriously believe that Detective Takagi and Detective Sato were actually dating?"

"That again…" Kaito held back a sigh. "Look, what was I supposed to think?"

Conan lifted his head to glance at him, unamused ─ as if secretly judging him.

"I kept watch on him," Kaito explained. "All day long."

Suddenly, his judging wasn't all that secret anymore. "Stalker," Conan said.

"I prefer 'detective'. Anyways, as I was investigating him-"

"You mean, 'waiting for the chance to knock him out and take his place'-"

"-which is essentially the same thing."

Conan clearly begged to differ. Kaito clearly didn't care.

"I just happened to overhear that he had to leave work early because he needed to…" he added, drawing quote marks in the air with his fingers, "... 'talk to someone about something'."

Well, that was extremely specific, thought Conan, staring back at the thief through half-lidded eyes.

"I couldn't help but notice that something was… off about him," Kaito went on, regardless. "Being the good-hearted, exemplary citizen that I am, I decided to make sure he was alright-"

"So you stalked him."

"I merely checked up on him. Until he got home." Taking the shake of head that the boy provided as a clue to continue, the magician added, "He stood in front of his door for a while as he walked back out. Holding a memo book and gazing down a ring with glassy, teary eyes"

Conan blinked owlishly. "A ring?"

"Yeah, a ring. Fancy, shiny, sparkly ─ the kind I'd probably steal if I wasn't a renowned phantom thief and was a, I don't know, a crow." The weight of his words did not fall on him until an entire second later, but when it did, his wince was massive. "Not the best analogy I could've picked."

Definitely not, and while he wouldn't have cared to share his thoughts with the nuisance of a rival sitting in front of him, Conan also was in favor of letting all kinds of interaction with him die there.

"He was carrying a large bag, though… And plane tickets ─ they fell off his memo book, I didn't steal them, I swear… It makes you wonder if he finally decided he had enough with crime for one day and got himself an early vacation. I'm in a huge need for a vacation myself, to be honest. Because this I'm having right now certainly does not feel like one."

He settled with a non-committal hum, half-listening, and decided that maybe he wouldn't bother him if he was, instead, playing with his phone ─ which meant 'scrolling through the news on his phone,' or more especially, the homicide section.

He never got that far; a little over fifty messages were sitting on his inbox. Fifty-three, to be exact, he realized, swallowing even though his mouth had gone dry. A hesitant finger hovered over the small notification bubble, waiting for him to take a deep breath and gather the courage to click them open.

KID's raised eyebrow, stabbing right at his ego, served as enough incentive to face whatever destiny wanted him to face.

And could've sighed in relief when he didn't spot the name 'Mouri Ran' as the sender, in any of those messages ─ hadn't he been watched so closely by a certain someone, of course.

All of those were from their friends, most of them wondering where he had disappeared to. He held back a sigh, rapidly scrolling past them to let them know that he was okay and not, well, dying. For a change.

He didn't get past the introductory 'hello'. He was flooding in messages again.

Messages that passed too by to be properly processed, but he supposed he could make the word 'help' in some of them. He frowned profusely, trying to decode what the situation was, where they were, if they were in danger-

"Tantei-kun?" KID's voice reached him. He sounded extremely cautious, so he supposed his face was one to witness. "What is-?"

Conan did not pay him any attention ─ furiously typing away in search of further information.

"... and put the salmon in there. You should wait for… about three minutes. Then you flip it over."

Shinichi nodded. Despite her best efforts, Aoko wasn't able to keep herself from laughing out loud, being witness to the focused frown that had taken over his features as he carefully manipulated the filets, one at a time. It disappeared with the glare that ensued, and so did her chuckling ─ drowned out by a quiet apology and a little smile.

He shot her a dubious look before giving up and sighing.

"So," he began. "Are you sure I don't need to add more salt?"

"That's the third time you've asked me that, Kudo-kun."

He made a face. "My cooking went through a lot of scrutiny last night."

"I'm glad they enjoyed it."

"Are you even listening?"

She ignored his question, humming to herself as she tended to the miso soup he had been preparing. Aoko was extremely skillful in that regard, capable of ignoring everything around without batting an eye. Shinichi suspected she had developed it purely for survivability ─ being acquainted with the species known as 'Kuroba Kaito', for so long at that, was quite the challenge on its own, after all.

"Is that the reason you chose salted salmon for today's menu?" she asked him.

"I'm just glad to help," Shinichi replied, with a smirk. "Through exposure therapy."

He barely even had the chance to finish his sentence, before he had to fight back a wince. Speaking of exposure therapy, he thought, keeping an ear out for the yelling that wafted its way back to him, all the way from the living room.

Granted, it wasn't as much as a phobia, but more like an irritation-born reflex that had been instilled in his little brother over the years. In fact, he was sure that was the prime reason the boy had insisted on helping out in the kitchen so badly, which he had denied, even though he was clearly the better one in the job.

First, because he needed to learn to let him do this, no matter what the result could be. And besides, it wouldn't kill him to test his patience and survive a few more minutes alone with the magician. Shinichi had been forced to spend a handful more hours with him than he would be willing to, and he'd survived. Surely Conan would, too.

Judging by the arguing, he reaffirmed that Conan would live to tell the tale. On the downside, for Kuroba, the opposite was just as likely.

A grin grew on Aoko's face. "And I'm glad those two are getting along."

Shinichi stared at her. "I'm starting to suspect you're clinically delusional, Nakamori."

"Well, I argue a lot with my dad." She shrugged. "That doesn't mean we can't get along, too."

He wondered if she ever noticed him stilling, his gaze falling on the salmon filets he was cooking, yet hardly seeing anything through the haze that settled in. She gave him the impression that she did, judging by the way she had turned to him, her eyes searching for any clue to explain his odd behavior.

Shinichi pretended not to realize, instead taking his time to ponder over her words before asking.

"Have you ever been mad at him?" At the incredulous look he received, he realized how insanely stupid that question sounded to his ears, so he tried to fix it with, "I mean, actually mad."

"In the 'I will never forgive you' kind of mad, you mean?" Shinichi nodded, almost hesitantly. She stepped back, her finger pressed to her cheek as she thought deeply about it. "Several times, I think."

Shinichi didn't know why he had expected her to answer any differently.

"That's how we are, I suppose," she continued. "We're both explosive, but we usually make up at the end."

He chuckled. "Remind me never to be there when you fight with your father."

"Surely you've been angry, too. With your dad."

"Getting mad is mostly Conan's job," he told her, shooting a look over his shoulder and towards the living room.

The tip of his lips quirked upward, amused for some reason Aoko couldn't exactly decipher, but could make a strong guess about.

"Unlike him, I'm usually just exasperated by him. Him, and his uncanny ability to always make the right deduction and plan twenty steps ahead of everyone… No matter what, he's always right."

Aoko didn't miss the way his smile faded over some. Or the fact that he had gone silent all of a sudden; stunned by the many conflicting voices resounding in his mind, Aoko would've guessed.

She quietly made her way over to the furthest corner of the kitchen. The smell of steamed rice filled the ambience as she scooped it up, grabbing the closest bowl to continue her labor.

"You seem to be the kind that hardly gets really angry," she murmured. His bewildered gaze falling on her made her smile a bit. "Unless it's for someone else's sake. And by 'someone else', I'm talking about a very select number of people."

He didn't answer, yet she didn't expect him to.

"Whatever it is, it's best to talk it out. That's how it usually works for Dad and me," she told him. "Maybe it will for you, too, Kudo-kun."

"I didn't say-"

She rolled her eyes, discarding the rice to move closer to him. "Come on, three minutes are up. Let's see what we got over here."

But didn't even get to take a single glimpse of it.

"Wha-?!" Because Kaito had suddenly shirked, drawing their attention back to whatever was happening in that living room. "Hey, what are you doing?!"

"I'm making your wish come true."

What Shinichi found when he peeked his head out of the doorway was the blurred form of what he assumed to be his little brother, disappearing from sight. After that, came the shuffling of feet hurrying down the stairs.

"Thanks for the food!" he heard Conan calling in the distance.

"But you haven't even eaten anything-" The door slammed closed. "... yet."

For a second there, Shinichi stood rooted in place, blinking cluelessly at plain air.

That was when he glanced over at Kaito. He raised his hands in defense, swearing up and down that he could explain this.

He hadn't counted on meeting Detective Sato so soon.

Or rather, he had decided that, maybe, he should stay away from her for a week at least ─ which, come to think of it, was probably more of a wishful thinking than anything else, because there was absolutely no way that he would accomplish such a feat.

Whatever was the case, he had thought he could avoid her for long enough for her to forget that he had basically run off on her. But even that had slipped from his mind upon seeing the picture his friends had sent him ─ of delicate, possibly female, hands holding out a table angled towards the camera. Of pale-faced Takagi, tied up to a wooden plank with his mouth taped, a rope wrapped around his neck that threatened to finish him up if he even rolled the wrong way.

Just a misstep, and he would be dead. That was the kind of realization that had probably numbed his brain and prompted his muscles to seek more information in the Police Headquarters itself.

Now that he was staring at Sato, wide-eyed and surprised to see him wandering in, the events of last night caught up with him. The smile on his face froze solid, and Genta had raised an eyebrow at his strange behavior. His mouth had opened, too, and here Conan found himself praying he didn't ask while in front of the entire first division.

But before anything could be said or done, Sato fixed her face back to her serious, in-duty expression.

"Conan-kun," she said. Conan managed a jerky nod. "What do you mean, we shouldn't track it?"

Oh. He blinked. So she was willing to pretend last night didn't happen. For now, probably, but that was better than he had bargained for ─ he should be gone the moment they solve the case, so he was safe.

To think that she would throw away a chance like this, though… The power of love is amazing, he thought. And he was most definitely going to take advantage of it if he could. For survival reasons exclusively.

"It would take too long," Conan replied, trying not to sigh in relief. "From the outside, all you can check is the power button. Besides that, everything is useless." He glanced over to where his friends stood directly behind him, nodding with each word he said ─ regardless of if they really got it or not. "Or so I was told."

Shiratori stepped closer, smiling down at him like he was in any need of reassurement. Conan wondered if he ought to tell him to redirect it to Sato ─ whom, despite her stoic expression, the boy had caught shooting a glance towards the tablet laying at the desk every time she had the chance.

"If we open the tablet, we can recharge it directly from the inside," Shiratori told him. "If we get the data from the hard drive, couldn't we figure out where the signal is coming from?"

Was that the best he could manage to comfort another human being? Do better, he thought.

"Sure, you could," Conan said, shrugging. "But it may as well be the last time you see Detective Takagi's face."

Everyone looked shocked, so he added. "Look, the culprit is smart enough to modify the buttons and make the touch screen useless. I doubt he'd stop there."

Mitsuhiko stepped up, if only to face Conan with a shocked, but slightly frightened, expression. "You mean he set up a trap so that the moment the table is dismantled-"

"-it will explode?!" Genta screamed.

Ayumi muted a gasp with her hands. Mitsuhiko blinked at first, then started to stutter ─ trying, and failing, to get his point across. Conan didn't exactly need him to, as he already knew what his thought process was, but he supposed he appreciated the fact that he wasn't alone in this.

He pressed the bridge of his nose, sighing. "I was thinking that it would shut down completely, but…"

Knowing his luck, that was just as likely to happen. Criminals did enjoy showing off their wit, and while he didn't see why they would do that, well, he didn't even know why they would kidnap Takagi in the first place.

Despite his friends' best efforts to get him to understand what was going on, Conan felt like he had not a single clue. Apparently, they had been standing in front of the Tokyo Police Headquarters when they were approached by an elderly man. Since he had overheard them talking about Takagi, the man had asked them to deliver a package to his girlfriend in his stead.

He had described it as 'perishable', for it would go bad 'tomorrow or the day after'. And true to his word, Takagi's face was what Sato stumbled onto after taking the envelope apart.

Raising his finger to cup his chin, Conan closed his eyes.

"If we can't take it apart, I suppose we could track it through the tablet's network provider…" he mumbled. He shook his head rapidly, his eyes narrowing. "No, that wouldn't work. Criminals often use overseas servers for this specific reason. I mean, it isn't impossible, but by that time, Detective Takagi would already be…"

And then jerked his head back up, flinching at the realization that everyone ─ literally, every single soul in the room filled by a few dozens of detectives and the inspector ─ was staring at him. He felt himself falter, a nervous giggle bubbling up from his throat.

"So, uh… I was told." The remainder of his detective club was also looking at him without saying a single word to save him from his predicament. Thanks, guys. "By Shinichi-niichan. Over the phone."

His friends' gazes dulled considerably, more or less like what his aforementioned brother would do if he were there. Maybe it wasn't the best of responses he could offer.

"Could his 'Shinichi-niichan' perhaps be…" A rough voice came out of nowhere, causing Conan's breath to hitch before he could even realize who it was. "... the famous high school detective known as Kudo Shinichi?"

He immediately spun around to find a figure towering over him; a large and muscular complexion, a scarred face, and a single eye permanently fixated into his being was everything it took for Conan to cement the idea that had been swirling about his mind for a while now.

Coming here had been a terrible idea.

Mitsuhiko wasn't nearly as intimidated as he was. Lucky him, Conan thought grimly. "Do you know Shinichi-san?" he asked, curiosity coloring his tone.

"I've heard he used to collaborate with the Tokyo Police Department. He was rather brilliant for his age, or so I've heard." His eye narrowed, and Conan could swear his blood ran cold. "Until he suddenly disappeared."

And now it had frozen solid, his heart covered in frost, useless to even beat as its job demanded. Managing a shaky breath out, Conan's hand slowly rose to his chest, and allowed it to rest there until he finally had gathered the courage.

The courage to lift his gaze, meet his, and bite his lip.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said. "I… didn't talk with Shinichi-niichan."

From the corner of his eye, he noticed his friends exchanging a glance ─ and he didn't blame him, honestly, since he could imagine that he would be just as lost as they were, had he been in his situation.

"I-I know I shouldn't lie to the police." Conan averted his gaze, shifting on his feet to give off the illusion of shame, rather than any other specific reason he didn't want to publicly disclose. "But I was… sort of embarrassed to admit having to rely on Kogoro-ojisan, of all people…"

Now, all three were looking at him, as if he had grown another head or something. Funny, he thought, because it was in his best interest not to lose the only one he had, or someone else's entirely ─ even though he wasn't all too optimistic.

The man stood silent, his back rigid as he studied him.

"The Great Detective Mouri Kogoro," the man said, after a lengthy pause. "Is he who you have just contacted?"

Conan nodded, slowly. "I'm not going to jail for this, am I?"

It was when Megure turned to stare at him, the same way his friends had done before him, Conan realized he had pushed the scary little kid act a little further than necessary. But it didn't matter, for as long as this suspicious one-eyed man bought it.

Judging by the relentless scrutiny he still was being subjected to, however…

Eventually, it ceased to be ─ and right on cue, Conan's breath was returned to be. His stoic expression fixated on his face, the man turned his attention to Megure instead.

"Megure," he called. "Is it true that Takagi told you he was taking an overnight trip somewhere?"

Megure looked startled, probably caught off guard from staring too much, but recovered easily. "Y-Yes. He was checking the monorail schedule, so I suspect he headed for Haneda Airport."

"Contact Haneda. Ask them if they had any passengers under that name."

"Yes, Superintendent Kuroda!"

Just when he was beginning to recover, too... Conan blinked at space, forcing his brain to process those words, until eventually, it came with a gasp he had to muffle with his hands, and fortunately, went unnoticed.

Superintendent?! There was no way. Yet, at the same time, he clearly remembered catching wind of Matsumoto Kiyonaga's promotion right after that one incident at Tanabata ─ which had kind of come out of nowhere, suspiciously enough.

Obviously, someone else must have been promoted to fill in the newly vacated spot ─ and who else could perfectly fit the bill, but the one-eyed man that every single cell in Conan's body rejected with a burning passion?

Conan pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a powerful migraine coming.

Shinichi hadn't thought he would ever make use of that one resource.

But there was a reason it existed to begin with, and that was nothing else but the need to prepare for the unlikely scenario he actually needed, or maybe his growing paranoia had some role to play in all this.

The feeling of needing to know ─ to ascertain if these people were as harmless as he suspected, or instead, there was something else. Some sort of dark secret buried deep within their past that could change the game completely.

There may not have been any pawns involved in that improvised game of chess he and Conan played last night. Yet, in the grand game of life and death, despite what appearances may suggest, they were but a force to be reckoned with. Even the most unassuming pawn had the power to overthrow the king.

Shinichi rested his chin over his interlocked fingers, his gaze cast over the two separate files spread over Kuroba's coffee table ─ two names, written in his own messy handwriting.

Takagi Wataru, the police detective that had approached Kuroba, likely investigating Kuroba Toichi's demise.

Sato Miwako, a keen-eyed detective that was close to Takagi. Extremely intuitive, someone to be cautious around.

"Dad told me they tried to question him about both incidents," Ran's sweet voice had informed him over the phone and way into the night. Likely away from a certain little detective's keen ears, since her heart wouldn't let her be the cause of further distress for the child. "The Touto Tower Attack, and the Touto Aquarium accident."

Sighing again, he turned his attention to the computer at his side, a frown taking hold of his features as his fingers danced over the keyboard.

My past as Singani, and the many people I've saved, have granted me contacts. Eyes everywhere I can't reach.

Hadn't it been for all of them, I wouldn't have gathered as much information as I did.

Every kind of information, no matter how trivial, was compiled in these pages. Whether it was age, address, parents, close friends, school they had attended or cases they have been involved in, it didn't matter. He had it, he knew about it ─ and hoped it would be enough, even though he knew it would never be.

One click later, his finger was frozen. Eguchi Satomi-san. Said to be one of Sato's closest friends at high school, whom she was reported to remain in contact all the way to adulthood.

And apparently, a DNA analyst. How convenient. If you were to request a paternity test without the father's consent, which is clearly illegal, it was extra useful to have a friend to have your back. And what was better than a DNA analyst friend on your side?

If that's the place where she works, then I'm at luck, he thought. There was a man he had once met, who was supposed to have drowned somewhere at Edo River, but had instead taken up a job as a young intern in that certain place Eguchi Satomi worked. Maybe he could lend him a hand.

His lips quirked up, grabbing his phone to call him, then immediately deciding against it. He couldn't think of a single reason a high schooler living in Ekoda would randomly call a guy he was supposed to never have met. He could try a public phone later, somewhere at Haido ─ or maybe just buy another burner phone, that would actually be a lot better.

Just as he was about to discard the phone, to see if he could clean the mess he had made in the coffee table before Kuroba could complain ─ or worse, ask ─ a text notification popped in.

"Yeah, sorry for leaving so suddenly. A case came up," it read.

Shinichi was about to type a response. Then immediately, the sender added, "I'm okay, though."

He barely stopped himself from sighing. Seriously, that kid ─ he had asked if everything was alright hours ago, and was that everything he got? And then he expected him not to travel all the way to Beika to check on him. Which was probably an overreaction from Shinichi's part, but really, it wouldn't have killed him to text.

Even though he had thought their conversation was over, Conan had apparently decided it was not.

"Can't say the same for Detective Takagi."

Detective Takagi? Shinichi eyed the name on his desk briefly before it went back to his phone. "What happened to him?"

"Kidnapped by a shady old man. Tied to a wooden plank, mouth taped and rope wrapped around his neck. Location unknown."

Shinichi actually had to take his time to read that. "Okay, didn't see that coming."

"Neither did he," he wrote, and Shinichi had to snort at that. Cheeky brat. "Talk to you later."

"I seriously doubt that."

Conan shoved the phone back into his pocket, a scowl taking hold of his features.

To tell him that he wasn't likely to text him back, how could he? Although it's technically right, he told himself, then immediately shook it off. Did he have the nerve to say that when he disappeared for months without saying a single word at all? To, I don't know, let me know he didn't die somewhere.

Ran had, more than once, told him they were extremely alike. Conan liked to pretend she was wrong.

Even though we probably are, he realized. I didn't tell him about the Superintendent yet.

He would, though ─ once the case was solved and the risk of Kudo Shinichi himself stumbling into the police department to meet with the one-eyed Superintendent Kuroda Hyoue was minimal.

"Conan-kun?" Sato was calling. "I thought you were coming."

"Sorry!" he apologized, hastening his pace to reach him. "I got distracted with my phone."

"Oh, right. You said you were talking with Mouri-san, weren't you?"

Conan nodded, even though he hated himself for that. I could've used Hattori, he thought. But no, of course he had to choose the quack detective. Him, asking Occhan for help in a case ─ he'd rather die a slow, agonizing death if that was to ever happen.

"Sadly, he isn't answering anymore. He's probably playing pachinko somewhere with his phone off."

Yeah, so don't even think of contacting him.

Fortunately, Sato seemed to let go of that. Completely out of character for her, but honestly, it wasn't like Conan could blame her for it. Not with the delicate situation they were in.

At least, we got a sketch of the man those guys met. Nothing out of the ordinary ─ just a man wearing glasses and a flat cap, his hair graying out with age.

Could a guy like that have a grudge against Detective Takagi? After all, he knew him by name alone, whereas Sato was only referred to as 'his girlfriend' ─ which wasn't accurate, not by a long shot, but he'd let that pass. Even KID had made that mistake, so why couldn't this random shady old man?

He hadn't gotten the chance to get a proper look at it, though. With Chiba bursting in to tell Sato that Takagi was about to fall off, then discovering that he had done it to let his badge drop, he hadn't asked either. He thought it was nothing in comparison to the relief upon seeing Takagi easing back on the board, belly-down and his spinal cord in a single piece.

Still, I can't understand why he wasn't listed as a passenger on any flight departing from Haneda Airport. KID had mentioned something about plane tickets… Probably. He wasn't exactly listening ─ but he definitely wasn't asking either. No prominent links to any cases, either. Just someone having claimed to have spotted Detective Takagi walking out of the reference room. In tears, strangely enough.

What he had been reading were files regarding cases with women. Women who had hanged themselves about two years ago. He refused to believe that this had nothing to do with Takagi being in danger of being hanged by the criminal.

"Three cases in all," Sato told him, frowning profusely as she had been doing all day. Conan was sort of afraid it would get stuck like that ─ Sato was plenty intimidating as she was, a permanent scowl in her face was the least Conan wanted, actually. "Takagi-kun and I visited the scenes, but they were clearly suicides, so we let the precincts take over."

"Both of you, huh."

Which meant that Takagi had not written a murder off as a suicide à la Mouri Kogoro. If Sato had also been present, there was no reason she wouldn't be targeted too.

"Say, Detective Sato," Conan said. "Could you tell me about them?"

And so she did.

The first was a sixth-year medical student at Touto University named Tokugi Yuko. She hung herself in the living room of her condo, a plain but tidy and clean room. Next to her feet they had found a note, where she confessed to a hit-and-run accident a few days before, and an extreme sense of guilt that did not let her live in peace.

The second one was a teacher at an English conversation school, Kuruma Natalie. An apparent hopeless romantic who dated her boyfriend almost every single day, as evidenced by the calendar in her room. She had sent a text in English to her mother, telling her she had been dumped. Having sunk deep in despair, she ended her own life, on the same day they had agreed to go out on a date.

Last was Hikoue Hyoka, a popular hostess at a bar in Roppongi who lived in an old apartment filled with empty beer cans, despite having a substantial income from her job. According to her diary, she found out that the boyfriend he was supporting financially was a marriage swindler. The truth had driven her to suicide.

For the marriage swindler, things had not gone well either. He ended up in jail, fortunately ─ though not under the charge of fraud, as Conan would've supposed.

"He seems to have swarmed with debts and got into trouble with black market loan sharks, and ended up stabbing someone," Sato told him. "If I remember correctly, it was Date-san who arrested him."

"Oh, that's good, I guess." Conan paused, pondered over it again, then blinked owlishly. "Wait, who's Date-san again?"

"Right. You've never met him, haven't you, Conan-kun?"

Though the child wanted to say he didn't, with one percent security, he couldn't say for sure. Maybe that was the kind of thing that Amuro had called him off about in a previous case, about people not having enough confidence in their memory to affirm such a thing. He had been right, it seemed.

"Date-san died in a traffic accident immediately after he arrested that swindler," Sato continued regardless, either because she assumed he didn't or it was irrelevant to her story. Any of those were just as valid for Conan. "Date-san was trying to pick up a memo book when a driver who fell asleep at the wheels ran over him. That was what Takagi-kun said."

He perked up at that last sentence. "Was he present? At the accident, I mean."

Sato nodded. "They were skating out all night and were on their way home in the morning," she said. "I heard he was run over when he tried to show Takagi-kun something in the memo book."

"Is that the same memo book Detective Takagi uses nowadays?" he questioned.

"Ah, yes. He keeps it as a memento." A smile lit up her face ─ genuine yet soft, a little rare on those lips of hers. "He says he'll go on using it until the pages are black with notes and he's as good a detective as Date-san was."

A memo book… Come to think of it, that thief did say something about it. Even though he had barely paid attention to it, he mentioned something about a memo book and a ring he cried over. Was it possible that the thing Date had wanted to show him…?

Conan shook it off his head. Better not to delve into trivial matters ─ there was no time for that.

"Sounds like they were close," he commented instead.

"Yes. Date-san was Takagi-kun's mentor. Date-san used to tell people they were the Wataru Brothers."

The click of heels became gradually more prominent as her words were left to hover in the air, strangely out of his reach. He hadn't even realized he had stopped walking until her steps faded into nothingness, and her confused gaze met his. Maybe for the first time in a while, the boy did not feel the need to avert it, and sought it instead.

His head tilted slightly to one side, his eyes wide and blinking.

"Did Detective Takagi have a brother?" he asked her, before reconsidering. "Wait, Wataru is not his last name…"

Sato stared at him, her eyes widening considerably, and for a moment, Conan thought of asking if something was off. He was deterred when she burst out laughing, completely out of the blue.

She stopped herself right as his eyebrow rose, muffling it with a hand. And somehow, he felt even more offended ─ did she really think he couldn't see her shoulders trembling, wracked by a soft giggle?

"Well, I suppose they were practically brothers, with how close those two were," she conceded. "But actually, it was because he and Takagi-kun had the same given name."

The blinking returned at full force. "The same… given name?"

"Date-san's name was Date Wataru."

And maybe, if she hadn't turned around, she would have seen the expression of bewilderment that struck the little detective's face. She continued making her way through the hallway, assuming that she was being followed.

Little had she known that she wasn't. That there was a child there, holding his breath as he looked back ahead ─ solely focused on the arduous task of processing the most recent bout of information.

Don't tell me that… Was that the reason Detective Takagi was kidnapped?!

And so, the night came.

It was the sight of the moon peeking out of the clouds that made Detective Takagi sigh, incredibly and understandably frustrated, yet strangely relieved at the same time.

With August gradually slipping away from their grasp to leave September to settle in less than a week, it had dropped to a cozy, maybe a little on the chilly side, temperature to live in. A truly fortunate thing it was that this happened at this specific point of time, or he'd probably be, on top of everything, battling against the unforgiving winter cold that was so usual to reign over this place in particular.

But then again, it was probably just a matter of time. His throat felt raspy, his mouth dry enough to serve as a worthy competitor against the Tottori Sand Dunes altogether ─ everything reminded him of what was going to happen, if the days went by without gracing him a glance; leaving him to wither away like an inconspicuous, ugly flower whose owner forgot to water.

Well, I'm to be blamed for all of this, he thought, giving up to the exhaustion clinging up to his eyelids. So I guess God's judgment was passed on me…

Right now, more than ever, he wished he had gotten all of his sleep hours. With that certain date etching closer, and the unmasking of the terrible truth his mind was yet unable to conceive, getting a shut-eye had been close to impossible.

Because, every time he did, he would see him. His trembling hand, the red stains on the memo-pad he unconsciously felt himself trying to rub off even to this day; the voice, fragile yet brimming with the confidence Takagi had wished he had possessed himself.

"Takagi… I'm leaving this to you."

A strong sense of confidence that did not rely on his own power, but on Takagi's own teary self. It was on sleepless nights like these that the detective wondered if his dear friend hadn't miscalculated something; if he hadn't made a fatal mistake when relying on him for such an important mission.

Did that even happen, anyhow? He'd probably die somewhere in the following days, the truth he so desperately needed to share eternally sealed away from existence. Better to start now, he supposed ─ prepare himself to properly apologize to Date when he inevitably met him. Somewhere beyond this world he was just beginning to slide away from.

Apologize for what? That was the toughest, yet the simplest, question of it all. He could already feel the judgment in his friend's eyes; the crossed arms over his ample chest, the slight raise of his chin that told him he was waiting ─ waiting for something Takagi, in his strange haze of a dream, couldn't piece together.

Aren't you forgetting something? The voice on his head sounded different, sounded rougher somehow. It reminded him of a friend he would never see again. There's something else ─ someone else.

And then it manifested in front of him. A pair of round, innocent, yet somehow all-too-seeing eyes, barely even visible through a mop of raven black hair. A hand that clung to the hem of his shirt as they made their way towards this abandoned building he had been summoned to ─ and of course, that little, palling face as horror took hold of every single inch of his face.

All Takagi remembered was throwing himself over the kid, and being hit on the back of his head.

And suddenly, he was wide awake ─ and renewed with energy whose sources Takagi could not recognize. A frown took over his features as he gathered his strength and promptly flipped over.

Lying belly down in the wooden plank, and having made sure he was stable enough not to fall to his death, he focused on his hands ─ tightly tied behind his back.

He spread all of his fingers, then hid a single one of them.

Ten. Nine.

And desperately, he hoped that there was someone, anyone, out there to see his message.

A/N

CherryGirl 21-6: Yeah, I heard something about that, too! It's nice to see we're still getting chapters even after such a long time, I think. I thought we wouldn't.

BT: Thank you! Didn't realize it's been four years already xD And about Kuroda's scar, it was just a mistake. Sorry about that.