January 19th, 1996

Tired teardrops were sitting in the corners of the eyes of a certain private detective while he was groggily staring out of his head, vision and mind seemingly occupied by the white nothingness on the opposite wall. Even though he wanted nothing more than pour some cans of beer down his throat and dead-drop into his bed, he still gathered the presence to make some last adjustments to his outfit – little things such as patting his hard-ironed mazarine suit or tightening the matching necktie. It was hardly comfortable – the downside of slacking off on formal appearance at home, even when the agency was open to welcome clients. Yet even years after leaving the force, he still felt obliged to look like a decent person in front of his old co-workers and superiors. Besides, being a private detective called for the said decency.

Re-clipping the visitor card, he felt satisfied with the result, even if his daughter probably would have a different opinion on the matter.

At least he was still better than that Kudo brat – there he was next to him, leaning to the vending machine as if he wanted to sleep. He was clad in his school uniform that looked like it had been pulled out of the laundry. A glance was enough at his wrinkle-marred attire to conclude that the brat had dropped into his bed in those very clothes last night. His hair was uncombed too, naughty bangs sticking out of his usually forced-contained hairstyle. Perhaps it was his on his apperarance, but that usual condescending aura of his was missing. It never once occurred that he could be pleasant company in any form. Too bad that the illusion would crack in the moment he finally woke up.

But he hadn't really been sleeping, had he? Each time someone passed by, each time that even the slightest noise could have been heard, those turquoise eyes cracked open for the shortest of notice to glance around before letting him continue his shameless resting session.

At last, there was a twitch. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I had trouble sleeping last night."

"Geez, get yourself together. This is the police headquarters."

"And what brings you here uncl- Mouri-san? I thought the kidnapping case was closed yesterday."

"It was. But that mysterious individual that appeared in the end left behind some loose ends."

A mysterious smile crossed the young face. "I see. Perhaps our reasons to be here align more than we have expected."

He was about to ask what he meant by that when the door on the end of the corridor creaked open. A familiar plump figure in the trademark orange-ish suit and hat stepped over the ground sill, showing his back for a couple of seconds to finish an important-looking conversation. Even from a good distance, the former officer could notice the signs of his old friend sharing his weariness. That didn't stop him from properly greeting him though. "Good morning, inspector."

The inspector looked outright relieved at their sight. "Mouri-kun, Kudo-kun. Thank you for coming today. Come inside."

The office behind the door was neat and tidy, as it should be – a strong contrast to his own. Huge windows facing the street let enough light inside to make him feel in spotlights. He had to squint to make out the pictures taped to the whiteboard in the background, connected by colourful lines and surrounded by marker-written pieces of clues. In front of it were the handful of men occupying the room, sitting around a large table while wallowing in small conversations with each other. Only one or two faces rang a bell for him and he had the sinking feeling that it was not because they were way under him in authority and ranks, no, rather the opposite.

Even the inspector, who had his own share of authority in the police, was on the edge around them, his wish to get over with the higher business and return to his cosy office two storeys below written on his face. He unintentionally gulped as the imaginary pressure on his shoulders made him feel closer and closer to the floor.

Kudo casually closing the door did little to help either.

"Relax, Mouri-kun." Stepped closer a large man with broad shoulders and a scar over the left eye. After a brief moment of wondering from where the man in question knew his name, he recognised Matsumoto Kiyonaga in him – a police superintendent and the inspector's direct superior. "We only called you in again to find out if your case has anything to do with the matter of this discussion. That said, I must ask you not to spread any information you hear here. This case has not been disclosed to public yet."

"I understand." He nodded firmly as they sat down. "Yet it bugs me – what is he doing here?"

They both looked at Kudo, who seemed to be at surprising ease. Superintendent Matsumoto looked shamed. "That kid seems to be the source of everything."

"As everyone arrived, I suppose we can start our discussion." The silent chattering died down as another large yet unfamiliar man with grizzling hair and bread stood up to speak right next to the brat. "Two days before, the first department was requested to track down two suspicious figures after a homicide took place in Tropical Land, who were under the suspicion of being affiliated to a, quote, 'dangerous criminal syndicate'. The request was met and our officers indeed became eyewitnesses of a shady deal between the mentioned duo and a representative of Nichitaka Transportation Company, the latter having been arrested later for gun smuggling."

At that, several gasps were heard in the room, including his. The thought that a criminal syndicate of such volume existed in their otherwise peaceful country, not to mention that it was overlooked by the law enforcement for god knows how long was a frightening one indeed.

"Unfortunately, our men were spotted and that resulted in a firefight with the criminals, who escaped by car. The person behind the request, however, stayed in touch with First Division Inspector Megure Juuzo – " The plump man stood up for a short notice. " – and proceeded to direct the present and the newly arriving forces in the following car chase. The criminals were cornered and their car was confirmed to flip and explode due to sudden breaking in the end. However, as no bodies were found inside the remains, we must assume that they somehow managed to get away. The requester also specifically asked those whose identities were exposed during the events to be taken under protection. We were unable to do so due to the large amount of involved but we told them to keep an eye on their surroundings and report if they see anyone suspicious around."

The last bits of information earned a subtle reaction from Kudo, which he tried to disregard.

"In face of the events, the requester had no time to explain the exact situation but promised to do so after the matter is at least temporarily resolved, which is why this meeting was arranged. The individual is question is amongst us now. I call him to speak up and fulfil his promise."

The world spinned around him when Kudo stood up.

"I intend to do that as much I can." At the inquisitory gazes, he continued. "I must start with the fact that, even if it seems otherwise for many of you, I am not the person this fiasco originates from. While spending an afternoon in Tropical Land with my classmate, I was contacted by an unknown number. The person behind it warned me about the said syndicate and everything that happened that evening was according to his instructions."

Superintendent Matsumoto stood up. "I consider you a smart person, Kudo. How did you know that their words were trustworthy?"

"The homicide case. He predicted it to happen."

Expecting the brat to present a lengthy explanation based on his detective intuitions, his short two sentences left him surprised. That was when the contents of those two short sentences sank in for him, making his eyebrow twitch up in confusion. The prospect was as unbelievable as plain impossible yet this brat was trying to have the people present, the high-ranking members of the police force, eat his story. He had some nerve for sure – but on the other hand, even if being annoyingly nosy and proud, his observations and opinions had always been on the spot. Being a celebrity, he had no need to seek attention with fake stunts either. His gaze met with the inspector's.

The grizzling man pressed further. "What do you mean under 'predicting'?"

"He told me the exact time and location, the method, as well as the identities of both culprit and the victim." Seeing the shocked faces gaping at him, Kudo's shoulders went for a theatrical shrug. "Naturally, I was sceptical at first. I thought it was a prank call of some sort. However, as everyone here knows, everything happened as he said. Consequently, I decided to take his warning seriously and it resulted in the flow of event described previously. Is my explanation satisfactory, Kuroda-san?"

A beat of utter silence. "I must admit, you know plenty for your age, Kudo Shinichi. Too much, even."

Annoyed by his lack of knowledge, he turned to inspector while discreetly covering his mouth. "What's going on?"

The inspector swallowed. "Kuroda Hyoue. He used to be with the National Police Agency. His story is a long and mysterious one. All I know is that he was involved in an incident that left him blind to the right eye and then disappeared for years before suddenly getting promoted to the head of the first division in Nagano. Not many know him in the police force – he has a very intimidating personality because of which many avoid him. As for why someone from Nagano is here, I have no idea."

Superintendent Matsumoto silently took the glasses with a non-transparent right len the man was wearing into account. "He looks like a different person compared to the one in my memories. With that grey hair and glasses, he looks older than I do, even though I was above him in academy. Time can change people, so it seems."

Looking at Kudo, he huffed. "And how come that brat knows someone like him?"

Superintendent Kuroda disregarded their little chat, looking at Kudo. "So you claim that whoever contacted you was the same person who contacted Mouri?"

Unbothered by the weighty presence, Kudo was thinking for some seconds. "If I understood everything regarding that case right, then it's highly possible. According to Mouri-san and his daughter, after figuring out the scheme of the supposed culprit, they received a call from another person who claimed to have kidnapped Tani Akiko. Since the deduction had no mistake in itself, it's safe to assume that the two incidents were unrelated. First, the butler planned the kidnapping with the victim, who hid herself in Futatsubashi Middle School, after which a more malicious person found her and made use of the situation. That, however, left no time for Mouri-san and the others present to save the victim."

"The details of that case were discussed yesterday." The inspector inserted the fact.

"Yet when the kidnapper stated his demands, he was ambushed by an unknown person. In that moment, everyone involved in the case was at the Tani residence and apart from them, nobody knew about the incident. In order to step in and save the victim, the individual needed knowledge on the events, knowledge that he apparently had no means to obtain. In that sense, assuming relation between the two cases is not overspeculation. It might be another instance of this 'future predicting'."

"Truly intriguing." A chin covered in grizzling beard was held in a hand. "You're a truly intriguing liar, Kudo Shinichi."

It was as if the temperature had dropped a good ten degrees at that exclamation. He could almost see the air crystallizing around the mysterious superintendent, the icy touch of his presence biting into his skin and squashing him into his chair. A droplet of sweat rolled down on his temple. Not like he ever doubted the inspector but this time, he would give double credit to his words. This man was truly intimidating – and what he got was likely just a brush of his attention.

The person who took it head-on easily frowned with confusion. "Why would you think so?"

"Firstly, the 'person behind the unknown number' as you called him instructed you to handle the incident after the homicide at Tropical Land, obviously not having the intention to show up. Almost just to disarray our picture about him, he handled the kidnapping case by himself only hours later. Secondly, you seem know one simple yet questionable fact – his gender. You were the first to refer to our mystery person as a 'he', even though nobody had inclined that fact."

" – Superintendent Kuroda, determining the gender from voice is possible." As much as he wanted nothing more than vanish into thin air, he forced himself speak up. He might as well make his presence meaningful. "The person who contacted me was definitely a male, even if his voice was disguised."

"On that note, if we assume that he had my phone number but not Mouri-san's – " Kudo countered too.

"Mouri is a private detective with essentially public availabilities. He could have looked it up in no time." Shooting down their arguments, Superintendent Kuroda reached into his suit to throw several photos of the gym storage where the hostage had been kept to the table. Everything as it should be – bloodstains on the floor and the kidnapper tied to the plyo box. The sharp eyes were on Kudo. "Your expression lacks surprise. This is not the first time you see these images. I wonder where you could have seen them – "

"In my office yesterday." The inspector stood on his heels. "You have gone lengths, Superintendent Kuroda. Even if you suspect him to have unusual ties to the case, Kudo-kun stated otherwise when we previously discussed these incidents. I have to express that he enjoys my absolute trust to tell the truth."

"Hope that he deserves that trust." Superintendent Kuroda fully turned towards Kudo. "I would be interested in what happened to your left arm."

Every eye turned towards the said limb, which was hanging limply next to the brat. He might did little to add on the intelligence level in the room but being a private detective, he could make some deductions. He could see where Superintendent Kuroda was going and that the point was valid. However, the direct consequence of that was that the brat had been feeding them a well-cooked and prickly arranged lie after all. Well, there was no way such a story could have been true in the first place. As much as his annoyed and worn-out mind wanted to leave the matter as the attention-seeking efforts of a teenager, deep inside he knew something was still off.

Give that the brat was who contacted him and knew of those two thugs – but how? Where did the info come from?

"There was blood at the scene even though nobody there was injured, meaning it could only belong to the one who appeared at the scene, knocked out and tied up the kidnapper and left – the mystery person in question. Unless you have a good explanation on how did that – " Superintendent Kuroda jerked his upper arm, as if intending to get a reaction out of the brat. " – happen, I have to consider you the prime suspect in regards of intervening in the previously mentioned cases."

Turquoise eyes looked at him, not even the slightest sign of pain in them. "Interesting deduction, Kuroda-san. However, you picked the wrong person."

"I can't understand it." It was plain cruel, he knew it. Kudo had no means to obtain that information. In spite of being a brat, he was the police's poster boy and the embodiment of justice for many out there. While he stood critical to his involvement all the time, he knew that if he had such sources, he would have used it before. No matter how much he disliked him, his mind was telling that he could trust his words. Besides, being treated as a suspect by Superintendent Kuroda was not something he wished even for his enemies. "Consider Kudo the mysterious caller himself. So what? That only means he tried to capture two dangerous criminals and saved a little girl from demise."

"I have to agree with Mouri-kun." The inspector chimed in. "Despite being highly relevant to these cases, the person in question is, in fact, not a criminal."

Superintendent Kuroda turned his attention to them, though glancing back at Kudo for a moment. "It looks like only me and this youth understood the true weight of the matter. Future predicting. We live in a world of cell phones and televisions yet what we see now is just a fragment of the technological development about to come. In this world, there is one thing more valuable than anything else, something that can turn the tables in an investigation. Something people can wars with. What I talk about is information. Predicting two crimes to happen might not call for such attention but imagine what would be the case if this person had ulterior motives, which he certainly has. What if it was an intentional action to show his intelligence prowess? What if it was not a favour, but rather a warning for something huge to come?"

The screech of chair being pushed back on the floor interrupted the silence of everyone including him trying to wrap their dizzy heads around the information. Superintendent Matsumoto was the quickest on the uptake as always. "While your deduction has valid points, Kuroda-kun, I suggest us not to jump into conclusions. With a broad information network, predicting these incidents could be possible – background investigation, observance and character profiles, just to mention a few tricks. Our task is indeed figuring out the intentions of this person and consult with him, but there's no point in making this case bigger than it is. We should stay down-to-earth as always."

"A broad information network, you say." Superintendent Kuroda stood critical to the response. "Do you realise how broad that network has to be to predict two fully unconnected cases to happen? Do any of you realise that regardless his source of information, this person has the potential to be a national security risk?"

Nobody in the room could see that coming when they sat in for this discussion, that much he knew for sure. Every second he spent with listening to the conversation between the two superintendents, he felt more and more convinced that he didn't belong there by a long shot. He was supposed to sit his office waiting for clients or minding his own business, not witnessing something of this level. Yes, sitting at home and blasting Yoko songs at maximum volume in the company of some canned beverage was more his ground to stand on. Discreetly melding into the background, he bit the words back even when he felt like saying something. It was not worth to show off anymore.

"Indeed, someone with such sources at his disposal can turn out to be a terrifying opponent." Superintendent Matsumoto showed agreement on that point. "However, I doubt that if your thoughts were to prevail, we would be placed in charge. Such level of threat would be passed down deeper and we would be shut out of the investigation for likely forever. Needless to say, I highly doubt that a high-school student could pose that threat to our country."

And that was how after a temporary pause, the attention shifted back to the only minor in the room again. A moment of thinking later, Kudo opened his mouth to say something regarding the previous matter, but the opening door stifled the words into him. For a split moment, he seemed to recognise the unfamiliar man stepping inside.

The man in question overlooked the brat and made eye contact with another person. "Excuse me. Superintendent Kuroda, urgent matter."

Without explanation, the mentioned person stood up and walked away. Not like he minded that in particular, actually he was happy not having to be in the same space with him any longer, but it was strange if not plain rude. However, no police in the room, be it of lower or higher ranks, dared to question the man. Well, 'no police' is the right way to put it, as that excluded that one person who ultimately dropped the metaphorical bomb that tipped Superintendent Kuroda the wrong way.

Kudo looked towards the descending figure. "It looks like our discussion ends here, Kuroda-san. I would appreciate you rethinking your suspicions though. I wish to help wrapping up these cases, not wasting time with pointing fingers at each other. If you put aside your paranoia, you will see that my intentions are clear."

One last course of shivers ran down his spine at the gaze the grizzling man sent back to the brat before finally disappearing in the corridor.

First it was the numberless old-type cars driving past him, penetrating his silent mental peace with their horns and overly noisy engines. When the bystanders' chattering reached his ears, a strange kind of happiness grasped his soul at how carefree it sounded. Seeing that many people around, making the streets one bustling antill, left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Too many memories – nice and horrific alike. If he paid attention, he could even hear the footsteps hitting the pavement echoing in tandem with the brushing of his own clothes as he, blending into the crowd, obediently took one step after another too. Yet in his mind, everything condensed into one thought.

One particularly annoying thought – that everything was so goddamn loud. It was bouncing in his head like a pachinko ball.

His senses, which had gotten used to the absence of life around him, were having a hard time readjusting to the vibrant metropolis. If something, Hokkaido's icy countryside was to blame for that. Not like he could show his face in an inhabited area while being dead according to official records though. The northmost region serving as his refuge was dead ground, just as dead as he had been on paper in the last – future? – years. The only thing he could do to further their progress from that place was to pick up his father's mantle as the puppeteer in the background. A cursed and ungrateful position – yet he found himself missing it time to time, even if only by the tiniest margins.

Especially the fact that sometimes something other than burnt curry made its way to the table, in courtesy of a certain fuscous-haired woman.

– aww, that reminded him how hungry he was. His eyes wandered to a nearby ramen shop.

Delicious scent was lingering in the air from behind the sliding door opened to a gap. He could catch a glimpse on the interior – it was mostly empty, the people sharing the space were to be counted on one hand. He forced his attention back on the sidewalk. He had already gone to the non-stop groceries to grab something edible to burn in the microwave. Considering the previous statement, ramen did sound like a better option as long as nobody recognised him there – oh, wait. He was in the past.

"Good afternoon." He said simply as he brushed the sheets aside.

Poking the ingredients on the roaster behind the counter, the chef looked up. "Likewise. What can I do for you?"

He grabbed a menu and pointed out a good-looking meal within reasonable price range. "One bowl of – erm, sio ramen with eggs and pork, please."

"Excellent choice. I shall bring you your meal once ready. Take a seat, please."

He instinctively headed towards the most remote place in the diner. One advantage of ramen was that cooking it provided heat for both the meal and the entire premise, creating summer-like temperature even in the coldest weeks. He wondered for a brief moment whether that was why he took a liking in ramen during his stay in Hokkaido as he removed his suit and placed it next to himself. Did he even like ramen at this point of time? – his memories were fuzzy on that part.

He tugged into his pocket to get his phone. His fingers swiftly scrolled through the list of unanswered calls from his dearest with a little guilt. Knowing her, she must have worried herself sick over him. A day was not enough to come up with a good explanation on his predicament that would avoid her passing out at some point though.

Still, the name he was searching for was nowhere to be seen. He booked it as the doc still sleeping after pulling an all-nighter on his 'request'.

Memory shards featuring the meeting not so long ago flashed before his mental eyes. Until the moment he stepped into the room, every second was as he planned. He expected a couple of police bigwigs to be there, which expectations turned out to be on spot, excluding a certain individual. Hyoue Kuroda was a surprise, a rather unpleasant one at that. In the eyes of the others present, the man was a mysterious but otherwise regular ranking member of the police force. He knew the head of the NPA PSB better – the man in charge of the department 'commonly' known as the secret police. Not like their interest was a surprise in particular, no, he expected either them or the crows to spot his activity first. The only thing that felt off was the timing. Their nose was good, he could personally assess to that, but them showing up this soon was flooring.

He folded his hands and rested his chin on it. This could turn troublesome. While the regular police was relatively easy to fool, the PSB, or rather Kuroda was no slouch. The fact that his cover had been standing on thin edge there for some minutes, even though he paid every bit of his attention to the check-up questions and non-verbals, was the perfect proof to that. It was a draw. Both of them gave the police something to think about regarding each other's identity. Still, he would eventually have to throw him off-scent.

Alibi, perhaps? A bowl obscured his vision. "Your ramen, young man."

"Thank you." Breaking the chopsticks, he went for the eggs.

Well, since nobody seemed to be aware of his accomplice, creating an alibi would be a child's play after the doc finished his 'request'. No, the problem lied elsewhere. Specifically in the exact method of future predicting. Phone calls were manageable as long as he made sure not to follow any patterns. At this point, the police was running around with that truck-worth of electronics to track phone calls – if said phone calls were expected. Call random people involved if their numbers were known or always different police members if not, and you could easily avoid being tracked. Of course, he needed to keep the suspicion off himself. The last thing he needed was getting his phone bugged, especially since his now daily communication with the doc straightforward served as evidence. Good reminder to talk with him about that matter later.

He leisurely placed a slice of pork into his mouth. The spice was wonderful. Too bad it was probably trade secret.

Just like everything connected to the NPA PSB. Again, nothing beyond the visible side of the law ever went simply. His strategy was perfect for the regular police, whom he had been working with long enough to have an accurate idea on the capabilities even from ten years' perspective. On the contrary, of exactly what technology was in the hand of the secret one in '96 he had no idea. He only knew not to underestimate them when it came to snooping around and tapping communication. It was not behind them to possess the technology required to trace him through some cunning ways – they did somehow hook off the APTX victim list anno.

And if they, in fact, did not have, there were many out there who certainly did.

Trapping some pasta between the chopsticks, he blew his hot meal. He needed a new phone – a card phone at that. It was the only reliable solution. He blessed his foresight that he had asked the doc buy one as soon as he had a chance. The true peril of said type of phones was that his location and identity would remain unknown even if the conversation itself was tapped. In his case, the matters of discussion were less confidential than the aforementioned information as long as no mistakes were made on his end during the calls. There were a few things to pay attention to, such as slip-ups or distinctive background noises. But it was generally sufficient as a long-term solution.

Yet that concept carried a temporary problem – what until then? Today, to be precise.

Grabbing the bowl, he gulped down the rest of his soup at once, quickly wiping his mouth with his sleeve afterwards.

His schedule was tight. Yesterday's sleepless night was spent with dusting down his memories and calculating the possible outcome of his actions. Shifting the responsibility to an unknown entity covered for him, more or less at least, and gave credit to the alter ego he planned to use for his time travel business. Said business included hopefully preventing the crimes that had fallen into his lap the first time around, now neatly arranged on a scarily long list back at his house. He knew every entry on it by heart, hence it was written by him personally, yet seeing the manifestation of order in his memories gave a feeling of security.

If he put some thought into it, he was faring quite well so far. Apart from the roller coaster case – his arrival point, nothing of what could have happened actually did in these two days he had spent in the past. Good old doc was on board and most of his other old acquaintances trusted him too.

Yet it had been just two days. He already drew unwanted attention to himself.

And on the day after Tropical Land, the next case was about to happen. The murder – or rather suicide – at Okino Yoko's apartment.

Technically, it could hardly be easier. Taking all the petty cases the famous idol had brought to the old man, he had to be senile not to remember her contact info. Making things simpler, she was the key character in this case since it would take one call from her to her wanna-be boyfriend to clean up the misunderstanding that had led to the tragedy. Yet he was conflicted. If he used his normal phone to call her, his number would be saved in her call history, pinning evidence on him. Wait a second – just like a step away from the toilet doors, a phone laid forgotten on the counter, apparently unnoticed by everyone present. Looked like luck was on his side today.

Mentally apologising to its owner, he decided it was time for his usual 'toilet break'.

There was some curse on him, that much was sure. No matter what he tried, nothing seemed to catch his attention ever since that damned meeting ended. Remembering himself wishing for nothing but to get back to his comfort zone when he had been there, he couldn't understand why his mind kept wandering back when he had the television, the fresh newspaper and a copious amount of alcohol to distract his thoughts. He threw the papers onto the dining table as nothing really registered from it, especially since the front page covered the details he had personally presented to the police. Skimming through the article, he could even find himself in there, accompanied by photos of the company president and the little girl, the butler ending the text on the third page. He had read that the last was cleared of charges hence the girl's statement.

Sighing at the sight of the lengthy portion of the newspaper his case took up, he wondered how much would be written about that other matter. There was not even a mention of what was discussed at the meeting apart from what had been on showcase by the roller coaster, covered on the following pages. They were not pulling his leg about the secrecy. The thought that something as far-fetched as future predicting received so much attention creeped him out. Nobody could blame him for that though.

Suddenly, the television's volume was turned down. Looking up, he felt sorry for his favourite idol being forced to gape in silence.

He turned towards the bustle in the kitchen. "Hey, I was watching that!"

The bustle answered. "Sure, and I have been cooking sushi so far."

Before he could counter, a full plate of delicious-looking okonomiyaki was placed on the table, neatly arranged and wonderfully served. It was for these moments he realised why he never felt like going to restaurants. His daughter outclassed the best of cooks in the whole city, if not in the entire world. He could see her sitting down across him, sweeping the sweat drops from her forehead in one move. He earned himself a stern glare when he took the first chance he saw to dive for the remote control, turning up the volume to an audible level. Fortunately, she seemed too tired to bother herself with his antics other than that. He casually dug into the dinner.

The silence was starting to get uncomfortable. "Did something happen in the school?"

A slice of bacon was brutally impaled on the end of her chopsticks. "Nothing special. Since his majesty decided to skip school today, everyone pestered me about details the whole day. It was only an outing. I had that deduction geek bring me there to make up for breaking my phone the other day and now the entire class ships us. Gosh, that was the worst idea of the year. I had that coming for arranging a program with a celebrity like him, childhood friends or not. Not like that mystery geek cares about my feelings anyways. I have called him at least twenty times now to find out what he has been doing, but no, not a peep. That idiot worries me."

Of course, that brat. He inhaled another can of beer. "Nah, he was probably too busy hindering police business."

"This is not funny, dad. As a detective, he has plenty of enemies. Something might have happened to him."

"Calm down. The inspector said he talked with him yesterday."

To his upmost delight, it was enough to calm her down and thus, he could avoid bringing up the meeting. If something, even the tiniest detail caught her eye the wrong way, then god shall help the poor individual stuck on the opposing end of her interrogation. Women could be terrifying, especially if they were professional in martial arts. His daughter and his wife were of the same material in that sense and he knew better than to press any of their trigger points. Those antics of theirs disturbed that nonchalant laziness inside him he liked to consider the bane of his existence. At least he was aware that talking his mind about that brat was a big no-no in his daughter's presence.

Peacefully continuing his meal, his glance fell at the television. Yoko-chan was perfection, really. Not only drop-dead gorgeous, even though that was an important detail, but also kind and tolerant, who would never kick him out of the bed at early daybreak because he had clients waiting downstairs, who would never hide booze from him to keep him from assaulting his liver on daily basis and who would never hang up the phone on him to finish the extra work she did to help him out financially –

– and probably would be at least annoyed if he stared at another idol in the television for minutes straight.

A wave of loud applause accompanied the end of the song. It had had melancholic timbre, something unusual from her but otherwise fitting the gloomy night perfectly. Bathing in the colourful stage lightings, she waited for the audience to calm down with modest delight. He devoured the last remains of his dinner as the cheers slowly quietened, leaving a chance for the performer to speak up. As her greatest fan, he knew something was off in the way she nervously grasped the microphone.

"This song is dedicated to the mysterious person who called me today and warned me that one of my close friends planned to commit suicide this evening." Conflicted uproar was to be heard in the background. "I owe him a life. If this guardian angel is watching this show now, I want him to know of my gratitude beyond words – "

All colour ran out of his face. The rest of the words fell to deaf ears just as his chopsticks did to the table.

His daughter looked up, frustration gone in a flash. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"I have to call the inspector."

Published: 19/02/2022

This was delayed quite a bit (like I should be posting the fourth chapter now) but on the bright side the plot is finally getting of the ground. There are still some insecure points like Kogoro's characterisation (did I get him right, anyways?) and the grand plot itself (which is still under construction), but I'm proud of myself with this chapter, especially the police meeting scene. That's, like, the most badass thing I've ever written (and published for that matter).

That said, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the previous chapters. All I can say is to stay tune and wait till the next showtime (why did that sound like Kaito KID?)

Ah, Kaito KID. Sorry, DarknessEamy, but no KID here. Despite the fact that I like Kaito as a character, I feel that he doesn't belong in this story (and in DC overall). Even though the two series were written by the same person, in my head they are two separate worlds. I never really liked the fact that two were merged in canon either. Writing out MK also means that no other characters from there will show up in this story. (No Hakuba, Aoko or Nakamori.)

(Am I the only one thinking that the last two are like Ran and Kogoro in an alternate universe?)

Despite this delay, I still aim for monthly updating. What turns out of that is another story, but I'll try.