…
…
February 20th, 1996
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Haibara watched the snowflakes descend from the white clouds outside. Her tired mind rested on the contours of the downtown covered in the thick blankets of darkness, leer and hollow from the upside perspective the seventh floor provided. Her face almost touched the window as the scenery served as a metaphorical reminder of her true self trapped under a despised mask, which fact caused her so much stress that her mind did not allow her a moment of rest. Her each step led upon buried memories of another world, memories that came back to steal her nonexistent comfort. However, none of that was visible on the outside. None of that could be.
Oh, how much rather she would spend her time in her lab to think about the third leaper and the principles of time travel. It was able to draw her attention from both the fact that her death caused a timeline to be created and that her past had reawakened around her – her worst past.
A small pop drew her attention.
"Sherry."
Brandish opened a bottle of his respective drink and poured for her. Her face was impassive as she accepted the treat, despite that that brand of alcohol was horrid on her tastebuds. Her attention averted from the view outside to the upper that invited her. His features had distinct western strikes in contradiction to his native "real" name – which could be a fake name for all intents and purposes, and would not be that much of a surprise from a codenamed member of the syndicate.
"I wonder what this means."
Her voice was cold and sharp, like back in those days. Her mind represented an actual person compared to the shell known to the others, but her role was to act like that shell until the time came. However, this situation needed an explanation. Her irises followed his moves as he sipped into the drink with casual condescendence. Her presence was needed on the rare occasions some problem arose with one of her poisons, and that one worked fine for sure.
"I wanted to congratulate. You are the first person in the world to have ever created a perfect poison." His clear satisfaction unsettled her. His character was unknown to her despite the fact that her work went into his personal affairs. "You are even ahead of the secret services."
"I do not consider this a competition."
"It is."
A split moment of silence prompted him to elaborate.
"I love to watch people preach about a civilised world, claim that our laws are the embodiment of our righteousness. However, whenever important questions need to be answered or matters settled, the same people overstep their boundaries without a moment of hesitation. In the end of the line, the most efficient method to shake off competition and silence critiques is the irreversible act of murder. In the end of the line, the question is who can kill with more effectiveness."
"And from that perspective, it is vital to have better weapons in our arsenal than our enemies – would be the conclusion." He was satisfied with her words. "I do doubt that the tons of resources the uppers pile up would be allowed to rot. Your plan to win the election is obvious."
"A taste of the future to come. A utopia where we are the leaders of mankind."
Her distress went unnoticed.
"You are delusional."
"You scientists can never understand. You know chemicals but not people." He leaned closer to her. "Humans are submissive creatures. I would not call them smart when the core of their needs is to have someone, a person, an idea or a cause to direct them. A handful of them have the drive to become leaders, the rest follows the suit. Humans need someone to have power over them, and we can fulfil that need of theirs. Think about it. A world where no one would have to think about complicated concepts and could lead their bordered lives without concerns. A world where life is so simple that no one has to think. I would call that a truce."
He took her chin and forced her to look him square in the face.
"A world where we can have everything – "
…
"Leave that to the boss."
Both of them snapped to the door, in which a familiar person appeared.
…
"Gin."
Her mouth spoke his codename with a hint of fear. Her fear was directed towards whatever reason the assassin could have had to come to the prefecture. Brandish leaned back at the newcomer and focused his attention to him. There was bad blood between them – as between all the other uppers. It was unusual for him to establish contact with another of his ranks on a mission. It showed how desperate he was, and there was one reason for that under the current circumstances.
"I heard you have rats in the police."
"I have indeed."
…
"I need an answer to a question."
…
…
Shinichi drank a canned coffee in the corridor. He paced around with unhidden restlessness, not worried that someone would notice him an hour before clock in time. His mind tried to make sense of the information it had received in the recent times and each failed attempt added on his irritation – he was irritated, he could feel that headache from a mile. He became so accustomed to see into the most hidden corners in cases that normal detective work turned into an irritation.
No, that was not true. He would not be irritated at a normal case, with him as an outsider. He was calm unless the case was about madmen with elaborate world domination plans and lack of conscious to enact those plans. His run-off-the-mill murderer was not that ambitious.
And there was the time travel factor thrown in.
He frowned. He tried to avoid that rabbit hole but had to admit that denial was not the most beneficial answer. He tried to think about who could be the newest leaper, or the oldest in a technical sense, but his mind drew a blank sheet – whoever the person was knew how to hide their tracks. Kuroda was the clue in his hands – his presence was the contradiction that led them to the realisation, which meant that the solution to that would be the solution to leaper problem too.
Kuroda, then. His mind threw up the obvious possibilities.
Vermouth was one, but that was discarded fast. He would be the first to attest to the skills that woman had in undercover work, but not even she could impersonate someone with a built that different to her own. He had seen her take on a more masculine form, but there is a limit to what inflatable pillows could do. He could tell that she was not the one to impersonate the head of the secret police for a month, which extended amount of time pointed at a professional nevertheless.
It was bad that someone had impersonated the head of the secret police. He considered others crows, but – Kuroda had suspected him to be the prophet but never confronted him, or revealed him in public. Had his aim been to throw a wrench into his plans, he would have been able to do so in his position. A crow would have made use of that without a doubt, not to mention a crow would not collaborate with a detective to clean the police from infiltrators. He had the experience to know that a cover had to be authentic, but there was a borderline as to what the individual did and what not. And a crow would not cause harm to its kind.
He needed more caffeine.
He popped the lid on another canned coffee.
He could not decide whether the impostor and the third leaper, whatever their connection be, were friends or enemies. He was in serious trouble in the latter case, but that was an inevitable risk. He added a talk with the resident clue to his mental schedule. He did not want to die, per se, at least not until control was in his hands, but he had to know the role the media filled in the case, not the least because carelessness could lead to a massive count of murders.
He popped the lid on another can –
"Shinichi."
Ran took the can from him.
"You will die from caffeine overdose."
"You old man never died of alcohol overdose, and the chances were there."
He rubbed his forehead with his thumb. He could feel a headache from a mile, and this one was closer than a mile. He allowed her to see the most visible hint on his weakness that would ever be visible on the outside. He took in the weakness that she allowed him to see – she wore the same coat-trouser combo for almost a week and looked tempted to drink the confiscated coffee. He wanted to reassure her somehow, but there was not much that could be done. He did not want to lie.
"I think we need a tactical discussion, so – tell the others to come to the room to cover some extra details." He pushed himself into motion. He could not think about himself when madmen with elaborate world dominance plans were around. "I need us to have a set course of actions."
Ran wanted to hold his hand. He would have loved to return the sentiment, but could not allow himself to be distracted when his attention was needed the most. He had to calculate the future. He could not take a rest until the crows were eliminated forever –
"You have to talk to someone. You are not fine."
He looked aside.
…
…
Kogoro loved to dream. His dreams took him to a world created to fulfil his wishes, however, this one was an exception. He dreamt about a time traveller detective that wanted to save the world from the evil. He worked with that detective and ended up in one insane situation after another. His dream ended with the revelation that there were traitors in the police – enemies on the inside, what a terrible dream to have. He would never want that to be true.
He needed to wake up soon – wait. He was not home.
"About time."
He held his head. He looked at the woman who made the comment, and the pieces fell into their places. His dream was not a dream. Kudo was a time traveller and wanted to save the world from the evil. He worked with him, and that was his reason not to be in his actual home and actual bed. He made his decisions but missed the normalness and boredom. He could not understand how the brat lived in constant hecticness in the future. He would not even attempt to.
He had a more important issue to force down his own throat, that there were actual traitors inside the police. He had received the shortest explanation in his entire life but known that the brat would not lie about that. He had hinted at the chances multiple times, flat out told him to leave behind his blind fanatism, but he chalked that up as paranoia. He had been unable to face the facts that time and to be honest, he was still unable – but had to. His mind treated the ideal that the law enforcement was infallible as normal. He wanted to believe that there was someone to trust without conditions, and one believed what one wanted to believe.
"Your life had been turned upside down with this too."
Akemi watched him.
"I work as a private detective. I have come across cases that made me believe that whatever the next case can throw at me cannot be worse, then this one went ahead and blew the expectations out of the water. I have reminisced a little about the mundane life left behind, that is all."
He could not even compare himself to her. Her life started at a line the furthest from his own. Her mind had been conditioned to abandon the morals beaten into him in childhood. He was thankful that it had failed. He would have hated to think that those criminals had twisted a beautiful woman in the head. He found her attractive. He could not resist women, which was a not so hidden secret, but for once, more than their appearance appealed to him –
He shook his head. He had a wife.
"It is ironic. Those who lead mediocre lives want to be exceptional, and those who lead exceptional lives want to be mediocre. I dreamt about a mediocre life between two missions. You dreamt to be someone who can make a difference – I assume. Your kind wants to be famous and known. However, the books write about the nice façade – not about what lies underneath. You will be tested rather soon from all sides. Your determination. Your will to be here."
His will. He had faltered since the case turned their lives into a suspense drama. He had been enthusiastic at first. He had believed to have become the cliché chosen one, who can live out his fantasies about him as someone who mattered. He had believed to be prepared for the occasional difficulties. He did not know. He did not know what constant murders around him or enemies from all sides meant. He had underestimated the case, however –
He wanted to be there. He would be there with them.
Ran. Kudo too –
…
He realised that his newfound determination would be tested sooner than expected when the door revealed the mentioned brat. He braced himself as the newest members of their impromptu save-the-world collaboration walked into the room with a solemn look on their faces.
Kudo closed the door behind them.
"I will save the formalities, since all of us know what this conversation will be about. We have discussed the most important details but have not decided on a course of actions on our side. I have a proposition and ask you to listen to it and save the questions for later, is that okay?"
He heard the silence that approved of the idea.
"Michitaka News is an issue to take care about. I suspect that the local superintendent has made a deal with them to have the traitors inside the police tracked down." He held up a hand as a comment was about to form. "Morofushi-keibu. You never mentioned that in the open, but the assumption would make sense. I understand the decision and the reason to make it a secret – to make civilians on paper do the lion share in such a violent and unpredictable case is a shame. However, we have to know how much the media knows and whether that includes how severe the case is. There has been a victim, we need them to know the risks at least."
He could understand that.
"I could call them but have serious doubts that important information would be shared over the phone, which is the reason we have to visit them ourselves. It could convince them to trust us even more too. I think we should split up: one team will talk with the media, warn them about the risks and make them consider withdrawal. It would be for the best. I considered a number of factors, and concluded that that team should consist of Yamato-keibu, Ran and the old man."
He remembered that island, when the available men had been divided into several teams. He wondered whether small teamwork was a favoured tactic of the brat but had to admit that the method was effective. He doubted that the case back there could have been tackled elsehow.
Morofushi hummed. "Then whatever the other task is, must be more difficult."
Kansuke ticked. "What was that – "
"Morofushi-keibu, Yui-san and Akemi-san will work to have evidence on the traitors." Kudo continued, which claim shocked the room. He should not have been that surprised that the brat was that much ahead. "I have talked about who stood behind the woodpeckers, but not about who those were. I have information, but remember that it does not encompass the entire truth. I know about certain detectives who are members, but not all of them."
Kudo waited until his words were understood.
"However, a number of deductions can be drawn from what we know. All of the woodpeckers were approached inside the police, which means that there is a core, who started the whole fiasco. Takeda is the first traitor. He is the reason most of the woodpeckers are associated to his squad. He is also obsessed with a historical warlord who has a similar name. He wants to be like him or whatever. I never wanted to understand. He creates his own set of followers based on that historical lore nevertheless, which makes him approach those whose name is similar to one of the subordinates of the historical warlord. I would bet that there are people that fit the bill."
Morofushi took a marker and wrote two names onto the whiteboard.
Saegusa Mamoru. Kano Shoji.
"Mamoru can be Moritomo. Kano used to be called – "
Yui understood.
"Tsuchiya. It can refer to Tsuchiya Masatsugu."
"Those two are members of the mentioned squad and suspected to have leaked information and tampered with evidence. It is weird that both have names that corresponds to one of the historical subordinates. I think that the idea, while sounds insane, has some merit and in case it is true, the task is not hard. It takes a creative mindset to find connotations, but a comparison between the names of the historical subordinates and the names in the police force can make us a list of suspects."
"However, there are a whole lot of these subordinates, like, two dozen or what." Kansuke butted into the deduction. "I do not think that there can be more traitors within the police than detectives on the division of violent crimes. Tokio would be realistic, but this is a prefecture."
Kudo decided to end the debate.
"Yamato-keibu has a point. While there are two dozen subordinates recorded in history, our core could not have found a correspondent for each name. I believe their number must be around seven, ten at most. It is a problem nonetheless. I can confirm that the mentioned two are traitors, but that is all. I know that Aki – uh, Aburakawa would be approached, or have been already. He would accept the invitation, but that would be to extract revenge on them."
He could not help but ask.
"Revenge?"
He could feel the mood fall in the room.
"You all should know that traitors are traitors. You will not deal with police detectives but with criminals who masquerade as them. I mean that these detectives will commit crimes without heartache: tamper with or remove evidence, frame others for their actions, and even – even murder. Takeda himself is an example. He had shot without authorisation. His actions were excused somehow and were not punished as a result, but the true reason those two criminals were killed was to cover up the weapon deals the woodpecker has been involved in on the orders of that one politician – Kato Mikami. You did not mishear that, weapons as in firearms."
He could hear in that moment. He could hear that the brat had been attached to ideals and slapped otherwise as well. He had believed him to have lost his innocence to the future, but when one was an idealist themselves, ideals were hard to forsake. And the brat was one without a doubt.
Kansuke recoiled too, for a different reason.
"I saw one. I remember that because the culprit had been a childhood acquaintance. He had ruined his own life, which somehow drove him to commit an inexcusable act. He dosed himself with meth and fired ten bullets in public. I heard a student was killed. Takeda squad was dispatched to deal with him and – I was on the squad at the time too. We tried to talk him down and succeeded – he was about to surrender when our squad leader blew his brains out. He was about to surrender and there was no reason to shoot – I was pissed. He killed for the thrill – I was sure. I have been sure ever since. I would have never suspected that – "
Kudo nodded.
"You childhood acquaintance was an addict without resources and connections and still, he found a weapon with no trouble whatsoever – the woodpecker was the one that sold him a firearm. Takeda had to kill him to silence a potential witness and to protect the woodpecker."
Kansuke rubbed his forehead in exasperation.
"I see, but – Aburakawa was not there. I fail to see the connection."
"His motive is rather well hidden. Recall the name of the deceased student."
"I think it was – Aburakawa! Aburakawa Tsuyako! He is related to the student who was killed in the incident. But wait. He could have had a motive to kill the shooter that was killed on the scene mere minutes later. He should have been happy with how it ended. If not – oh – "
"Takeda was also responsible. He put the weapon into the shooter's hand. If not for the woodpecker, the shooter would have never been able to acquire a firearm in the first place. His sister would never have been killed. He had himself transferred to the prefectural headquarters to find the woodpecker. He wants to track down the woodpecker and would not hesitate to commit serial murder to end them. He can be an asset to our cause at this point, but be careful with him."
He sat in his chair and blinked. His mind tried to take in this newest level of craziness. It was so, so messed up. He was also bothered that the brat mentioned serial murder because it was not his cake to throw words like that around. He had little doubt that this was another future case – it had happened, then. Aburakawa had indeed wiped out the woodpecker. It could have been when the brat encountered the woodpecker. And learnt their numbers, identities and the mastermind behind them.
Kansuke snorted.
"As if. I had a reason to turn them down over and over."
"Yamamoto Kansuke."
Yui added a name with a tone that sounded – sorrowful.
"You have been on that squad for a while, have a fierce temper that can be misunderstood as violent inclination and a name that corresponds to one of the historical subordinates. That is the reason, then. You would be perfect from their perspective. You have been approached too."
"I told them to go to hell. I should have done more."
"You turned them down over and over. You had no intention to ever accept and made sure to tell them that. I think – I think that the older members in the woodpecker started to consider you as a threat. You knew more than the most and still refused them. You were too stubborn." Her mouth let loose a faint, heartless chuckle. "Your so-called accident was so severe that not even the doctors were able to tell certain news for a while. You could have lost much more and – "
"He is alive. Let us thank whatever watched over him and proceed with the plan."
Morofushi interrupted the emotions about to overtake the conversation.
"Kudo-kun. You said that our task will be to earn evidence on the woodpecker, but that could not be so simple to ask the members and make them confess. I have worked separate to it and had almost no idea about what it did. I knew that it existed, but that is all. I did not know about the deals and – "
"I know. You do not have to explain."
He saw the brat fall into his mindscape to come up with a solution. He was surprised that there was no exact plan this time but then, he would have dropped the case the moment the traitors within the police were revealed. He was sure most detectives would have too. It was almost impossible to track down criminals who could manipulate evidence or clues, or even the database to hinder whoever wants to discover them. It was a difficult situation.
Kudo looked at them with an expectant expression.
"I know what we will do. Listen – "
…
…
Akemi did not believe in hope.
Her definition equalled the impossible: a life with her sister where the future was unwritten for them to write. However, the recent events reminded her of that unreachable concept. Her old self used to think that the condition was to free herself from their clutches, but there was a "but". It took little time to realise that no matter whether there was the smallest a chance to run from their immediate command, their threats would breathe down her neck for the rest of her life the same. There was one true freedom and that needed the utter obliteration of the syndicate, a feat so monumental that the idea itself scared her. Impossible, the voices whispered.
Kudo Shinichi had shown to be a combination of character traits that could make her believe that there was a chance. He was decisive and bordered reckless, evident in the scheme with his prophet persona. However, he was calm and calculative at the same time, which suited someone who could consider the consequences their own actions had. His confidence did not come across as cockiness, no, rather as the confidence of someone who knew how to win.
He was conscious about his words and actions. He knew what to reveal and what to hide. He knew how be blunt and how to be discreet. He knew how to choose his words to weave the conversation in his favour. He had used the truth and the truth alone to reach her. He had turned the local detectives to his side in mere minutes. He liked to show rather than tell – and had done so. He had shown that he could control the circumstances. He could save her and her sister.
He also made sure not to make her a decoration in the back, or someone to shelter from the world. He treated her as a friend. He had included her in his teamwork, in which there was a discreet intention to make her a real friend. He wanted her to create her own place.
Her hands held onto the two floppies in her pocket –
"Have you heard the rumours?"
A man and a woman walked down the corridor – it came alive when clock in time arrived, and that meant clock in for the woodpecker too. Her attention tailed the detectives around them but all assumed that the woman with their resident tactician was one of them too.
Morofushi smiled a little and continued the conversation.
"I have. I am concerned about it too."
"To think that there are detectives here who leak information – unbelievable."
And the bait was in the water. Her teammates stopped near the door to make their conversation audible on the other side and continued a conversation that would send the alarms off in those associated with the woodpecker, the core first and foremost – Takeda was in the room behind the door, she had confirmed that with her own observations. Her talents came in hand – to be able to collect information from the smallest details and bit sentences and slip behind the scene at the same time was a valuable skill. Her task was to become a silhouette within the masses on the corridor that no one noticed, no one followed, no one found suspicious.
Her face remained passive even when a certain someone peeked outside the door.
Takeda was troubled. No wonder.
He blanketed his distress and locked on the two, who headed towards another corridor with discretion at his presence. A few moments were needed to confirm that their intended person would bite but when he rounded the corner behind which her teammates disappeared to, she slipped into the room.
Her immediate reaction identified the room behind the door an office. Her intrusion went unnoticed, which allowed her to check out the furthest corners without the need to fabricate an excuse. There were four detectives inside, who all sat at desks several rows from the door. Her hand held onto the doorknob until the moment the closest detective to her would slam that folder onto his table to close the door – as expected, the sounds cancelled out each other and no heads were turned in her direction. Her feet treaded on the floor without the faintest sound. Her destination was the desk that looked to have been used until moments before.
It was located near a window. It had the usual stack on the side and some notes scattered across the surface that the owner was too haste to hide. Her mind decided to scan those too, but the computer was more important. Her mouth curved into a smile at the unlocked screen – it had worked. A look around confirmed that cases were splendid distractions, and one of the floppies was inserted into its slot. A small line showed the status of the download on the screen.
It was painful to wait for the line to extend. It moved slower than a snail.
Kudo had to be credited once more. He had told that the woodpecker could communicate via internet, which both concealed their identities and allowed them to access the discussion from multiple locations at the same time. It eliminated the chance that unwanted ears would overhear their conversations. It was correct that online chatrooms were not considered the most common method for communication but had features that could aid someone to remain undiscovered. It was also correct that detectives would not even think to look into search histories and online conversations to crack a case, and that was the reason the clues were to be found there.
His idea was based on the distraction and attack tactic. Her task was what needed the most stealth, to steal the computer data from the woodpecker's head. He sounded sure that there would be invaluable information on the hard drive. He had to have a link to his connections at his workplace to allow instructions to flow in work hours. He was also paranoid, which deduction about his character was also correct. He had run to check out a potential threat with the carelessness to leave his computer unlocked, which meant that her actions did not count as theft and whatever evidence recovered on the floppies would be able to hold up in court.
A faint buzz bothered her side.
Her phone was the source – set on vibration mode. Her teammates called her to warn her, which could mean one obvious outcome. Takeda had realised the scheme and was about to rush back, and find her in process. A tsk left her mouth – the download was half complete.
However, there was no time to wait. Her actions had to remain in secret no matter what. There were other chances to launch a collect-information-about-the-woodpecker operation, not a lot, but there were. It did not worth them to be connected to the attempts and land on their hit list. Her situation was a reason their team did not need more secret associations out for their blood. Kudo was in similar shoes – and was the one to stress how important it was to remain unknown.
And thus, she took the floppies and fled.
…
…
Kogoro inhaled his impromptu breakfast. He stuck his head out the lowered window between two oversized bites. He was not that educated in the local streets but could make the accurate assumption that the office block besides which their car pulled over was their destination. Ran headed no attention to that in the backseat and skimmed over the files on the associated media once more instead. Her seriousness startled him. He stuffed the rest of the meal into his mouth.
He stepped outside and cleaned himself off. His task was to discuss the situation with the media and dissuade them from the case if possible. He knew that this was the easier task and to be honest, he did not mind that fact. He reminded himself to watch out nevertheless.
"Michitaka News. Here we are."
Kansuke, who minded the fact that their task was the easier, said the obvious in an unimpressed tone. He knew that to collaborate with someone who marched into suicide missions all the time, evacuate an entire island from a literal inferno, be let on a secret that the half world would kill to have, rush into a crime scene to establish contact with a who-is-now-a-former criminal would have made him cherish the normalness that the easier task allowed them to have.
He averted his attention back to the task at hand.
"So, how do we speak with the director? We could ask the reception to lead us to him because we have to talk about the super-secret mission the local superintendent imposed on him, oh, and dissuade him because it is too much of a risk. I doubt that would earn us more than a few stares."
Kansuke locked the car.
"We need an excuse to reach the director."
"It would be much convenient to run into him somewhere – "
"Look at that!"
Ran pointed behind them.
A run-of-the-mill car came to a halt at the ramp in the near – the road extended under the block, which looked like to be a reserved car park for media workers. It had no suspicious appearance and the license plate was normal too. It had no details of interest and for a moment, he wondered what worthed their attention when the window lowered and a familiar face showed a card to the personnel at the ramp. He knew those features – Michitaka, the director himself!
He shared looks with his companions and a moment later, their trio dashed in the direction to catch the director in person. He would rather sprint a few hundred meters than deal with the bureaucratic hell to reserve a ten minutes conversation with the man. It would even be better to have the director alone know about their intention to be there. He earned himself stares from the pedestrians but cared little. He forced himself to overcome his limits when the ramp lifted and the car rolled inside, and so did the others. He was surprised how fast the local detective could run with a cane. He would – huh – he needed a break!
He had to support himself on the ramp and was thankful that someone else talked with the personnel instead of him. He forced himself not to suffocate and at the approval, rounded the ramp and was about to march inside when – he stopped in his track.
His sudden halt earned reactions from the others but – he could not hear them. He stared into the darkness and saw it instead, the unknown tunnel that had been declared to have been a base of the syndicate. He had the awareness to know that the area under his feet could not be an entrance, but his instincts screamed the same as that time. His entire self screamed not to descend there, which was plain old ridiculous. He was not superstitious – then remembered how the brat had admitted to have listened to those instincts, and how that had saved his hide in the future. It was that, the weird awareness that seasoned detectives could foresee threats with.
However, he failed to understand what could be a threat here.
He looked around to find a normal car park under the feet of the pedestrians. It had unlit corners, it had that vibe – but that was normal. He tried to shut his mind up as he treaded further inside the area the alarms inside his head warned him about. It was ridiculous – cowardice at the finest.
" – dad! You are spacing out again!"
Ran shot a glare at him, which hauled him back to reality.
His team found the car in question. It pulled over at a stall reserved to the director himself, which cleared the nonexistent doubts about who the driver was. He swallowed, checked his necktie and suit, then willed himself to make an initiative as soon as the driver was about to exit –
…
…
…
His eardrums hurt.
…
…
Flashes and heat and confusion and whathappened –
…
"Mouri-san! Mouri-san!"
He came around at his name – oh, and the fact that someone tried to shake him awake. He did not remember to have fallen asleep, where was he – oh. His head killed him in that moment, but he forced himself to wake from the slumber and take in what was around him.
It was black soot. It was scorch marks all around and the realisation came in a sudden that something was notright. He turned his head to see a blackened frame – it was in flames and there seemed to be a form inside. It could have been a car – no, it had been a car, the one that he had tried to approach before the curtains of unconsciousness was pulled on his mind. He felt the blood drain from his face as the pieces started to assemble into a cohesive mental picture.
"Mouri-san. Look here! Look at me – "
"Ran!"
His mind revolved around his daughter. He pushed himself into an upwards position – a torn cloth fell from the side of his head and revealed a worrisome taint on itself. He touched where it hurt. He stared at his hand smeared with blood and to add on the effect, his vision was blurred to boot.
He could still discern the brown blob that was her hair, and to see that move towards him at a fast speed made him relieved. He tried to focus to make his vision clearer. He wanted to know how she was over the fact that she was alive. His vision stabilised in a minute and his ears started to hear more subtle sounds too – the shock leaved him. In that moment, she slammed into him and collected him into an embrace that could have been mistaken for a chokehold.
He could not catch the half-sentences murmured into his shoulder, so he turned to –
"Michitaka's car exploded as we were about to approach it. It was fortunate that that happened when we had been far, or we would been blown into smithereens and burnt to boot. You were thrown back at the shockwave and collided with the column over there – hence the headache."
Kansuke cleared the situation to the best of his abilities.
"You lost consciousness for five minutes or so and bleed from the left temple. You should be checked out to be sure. Ran-san and me were even further when the explosion occurred, and while the shockwave sent us back a few meters, neither of us sustained serious injuries."
"I was so scared, dad! You were so close and – "
Ran cried into his shoulder. He let loose an exhale that the three of them were somewhat fine – shaken, but fine. Michitaka, on the other hand, was not. He looked towards the car that had been almost reduced to ashes and the form that somewhat resembled a human. He doubted that the man would have been able to comprehend what had happened before he was burnt to charcoal. It seemed that his questions would never have a chance to be ever asked.
He made a mental note that weird detective awareness was real.
…
Kansuke handed the cloth from before back to him.
"The personnel out there has called the police and the ambulance. You should receive medical treatment soon."
He nursed the head wound amidst hisses. He wanted the ambulance soon, at least for a painkiller.
…
"You think it was – "
"It was murder. I am certain."
…
…
Shinichi readied himself. He had to talk with Kuroda – whoever the man was.
He had debriefed his allies about their tasks and trusted them to complete them. He had no doubt that the team tasked with the evidence collection would be able to earn worthwhile information on the core's computer. He had sent his best allies, but the task was hard nevertheless. He wanted to be there, to oversee the process in case complications arose, but another task needed his immediate attendance. It took a time traveller to confront someone tied to another.
He inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to clear his mind. He needed to focus to clear the debacle, to find out who the third leaper was and what their intentions were. He was unsure whether the impostor-Kuroda knew the third leaper or his presence was a result of unknown machinations. He decided not to tell the truth without confirmation on the first option – he did not need an obsessive police head on his trail to make the situation even worse. He would, however, tell the truth should the first option prevail and their interests meet. He could use someone in an influential position and a time traveller on his side. He would not bow but would keep his mind open.
He decided to take the elevator. He noticed that there were less and less detectives around – most had been called to the scene or sat behind a desk. He looked around and decided that no one would come and notice him. He went for the call button and heard the hidden machines come to life.
It was almost time.
He looked at his watch. His other allies had to have made contact with the media. He wanted the media out, wanted to know what the superintendent – the not-real one – wanted to use them for. He considered the evidence collection the harder task, but the media was important too.
He looked up when the elevator opened and looked aside in the next moment. He was taken aback that there was someone else inside, but that was an unforeseeable circumstance. He stepped inside like a normal person but turned his back to the other person to avoid contact as much as possible. He tried to catch their appearance a bit nevertheless – it was not suited to the woodpeckers he knew about. No, in fact – it carried an eerie sensation that he had seen this before.
Déjà vu.
He would have put that down as a baseless superstition had that not been the case with whatever method he had to sense the crows around or some other catastrophe that would strike near him. He did not know the reason he started to think about the topic in the first place – he held the weeks of paranoia responsible. No matter what the reason was, he was creeped out once the door closed and the elevator started to move because the space closed in and cleared that there was the two of them inside the small cabin sealed from the outside world for – what, seconds. He chased that ridiculous idea into his furthers mental corner – too much paranoia was cowardice.
He stared into the door. He did not interact with the other, but –
"You still have a flair for dramatics after all those times."
He assumed that the woman – because the voice sounded feminine – was on the phone at first. He saw no reason someone would tell those words to another at their first encounter. However, he had to realise that the words were somehow – off. It could not be a phone conversation.
It was addressed to him. Personally.
He stared into the door without a visible reaction. It took all his discipline.
"I see potential where there is. I have observed since our first encounter. You were out of reach, but that exceptional mind inside there – " He flinched when a faint touch brushed at his head from the back. He wanted to turn around, to catch them, but his mind reeled on from where that voice sounded so damn familiar. "It fascinates me. I know the situation is twisted. I twisted it. Your morals do not match with mine – ours in all cases, but that is fine. I do not want that – "
He forced himself to take on a nonchalant attitude.
"I do not know what this is about – "
…
"You know. Conan-kun."
…
Published: 20/10/2023
So, it has been two months. I did not post this chapter because I wanted to wait for the traffic stats to be fixed. It is still broken, but at least the reviews should be processed on the website even if it shows that no one has read the chapter itself. Pfft.
Technical issues aside, this chapter turned out decent. I love when it ends with a creepy vibe, well, as a writer. You can have a shot at who was that woman at the end or what the last sentence even means, but the truth is probably not what you would expect. Also, thanks for the reviews: Gamelover41592, Hoshi2050, Twisted Soul, SakuraS41. I love when the readers share their ideas and even put some speculation into the continuation, that feels so good.
Next chapter will be sooner than this one.