Chapter 33: Disruptive Calm
Spoilers for episodes 881-882, if anyone's not caught up. It's not really necessary to this story's plot, but it's still spoilers for the show.
The scene that met the three detectives when they arrived could only be described as gruesome. The sharp, metallic smell of blood assaulted their noses before they even laid eyes on the chaos that was the crime scene.
Shinichi's stomach lurched as he caught sight of the body. A man, judging by what was left of it. But beyond the mutilation, the blood splattered and pooled everywhere, what stood out most was a little girl. She sat on her knees next to the body, covered in blood he suspected wasn't hers, eyes wide as saucers as she stared at nothing. She couldn't have been older than ten.
"Holy shit," muttered Sera, eyes glued to the scene. All thoughts of loudly outing Shinichi's secrets were, mercifully, forgotten for the time being. Shinichi mentally echoed her statement.
He'd seen hundreds of murder scenes—which should probably be concerning in and of itself—but this one was probably the most gruesome he'd ever witnessed. He inched closer even as a young woman flung herself at the scene before anyone could stop her.
"Hanako! Hanako!" she screamed, dropping to her knees as she pulled the little girl into a protective embrace. Shinichi kept a close eye on her movements, cataloging anything she might have disturbed. "Hanako, what happened?! Are you okay? Hanako?!"
The girl, for her part, hadn't moved, except for being dragged towards the woman's bosom. Sera surged forward with a growl.
"Hey, hey!" she exclaimed, squeezing her hands into fists. "You're disturbing the crime scene!"
Shinichi's ire welled up at her actions, but Not-Shinichi moved faster than him, a disapproving frown on his face. He grabbed Sera's shoulder, halting her from moving forward. He gave her a very stern head shake before turning a sympathetic gaze to the woman and girl. Since no one else seemed to have moved, Shinichi went ahead and contacted the authorities.
"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am," said Not-Shinichi as his shrunken counterpart made the appropriate phone calls. Shinichi didn't miss Sera's eyes narrowing at the clone's kind tone. "I won't ask you to leave your daughter, but please refrain from moving from that spot until the police arrive."
The woman nodded as she held her daughter tightly to her chest.
"What's wrong with my Hanako?!" she asked, tears streaming down her face. "She won't answer me!"
"She might be in shock," said Not-Shinichi quietly as he studied the girl, Hanako. She still hadn't moved, and didn't appear to see any other surroundings. "An ambulance will get here soon, and they'll help her as soon as possible." The mother nodded despite the terror still in her eyes.
Sera continued to scowl at them, arms crossed, but thankfully didn't make any moves beyond that.
Gently, but urgently, Not-Shinichi dutifully collected some basic information, the original Shinichi paying rapt attention to the conversation as well as visually confirming the surrounding area and its inhabitants, tucking the data away in his brain to go through a bit later and form hypotheses and a suspect list.
Sera hung back, grumpily staring at Not-Shinichi work, though she did at least appear to be putting her suspicions on a backburner in favor of solving the brutal massacre strewn so messily at their feet.
The relief the two Shinichis felt at the police's arrival was nearly palpable.
Megure frowned at once again seeing both Sera and Conan at the crime scene, but before he could reprimand them, he noticed Not-Shinichi. It was nearly comical how his face lit up despite the circumstances.
"Kudo-kun! It's been a while!" he said jovially as he gave the clone a hearty pat on the back. His demeaner turned somber. "Shame about Ran-kun—we still don't have any leads, but don't worry. We'll let you know the moment we find something."
"It's nice to see you, too, inspector," said Not-Shinichi, a melancholy exhaustion weighing down his voice and shoulders as he managed to give the older man a sad smile. He observed the police officers moving around in his peripheral as he spoke, not quite facing Megure. Shinichi briefly wondered why that was. "I do appreciate the help."
Sera's eyes narrowed more as she heard them talk.
"I thought you had amnesia," she accused with a sneer. All the officers within hearing range froze at her words, and Megure's own surprised face turned back to the clone.
"Amnesia?"
"Partial," said Not-Shinichi shortly, sending the inspector a small, reassuring smile before he turned to frown at Sera. "And my having it does not mean I somehow didn't realize that Ran's still missing. Nor does it keep me from reading the case notes regarding her disappearance."
"Wait, back up—what's this about amnesia? Kudo-kun?" Takagi piped up from his place near the victim.
"Shinichi-niichan just got out of the hospital," said Shinichi as he glowered at the back of Sera's head.
Megure's eyes lit up with recognition, probably having been informed of the building collapse by the Nagano Police, as well as Shinichi and Conan's presence at the site. Not-Shinichi cleared his throat.
"We're not here to discuss my health status," he said firmly. Like a switch, the police all turned back to the murder scene, grimacing sheepishly at having stopped to eavesdrop. Megure reluctantly turned his concerned gaze away from the teenager to address his employees. He cleared his throat.
"Yes. Yes, you're right. Do we know the victim? Cause of death?" Takagi stepped forward, notebook in hand.
"Yes, sir! The deceased is Nakagawa Hachiro, 35 years old. He was stabbed forty-two times with a pocketknife found at the scene, and it's believed he was dead before the murderer finished the… stabbing."
Megure frowned at the sheer brutality. "Pocketknife?" he said, schooling his expression. He looked around the store. "… This is a clothing store. Why would the killer leave something that doesn't belong here, especially if it could lead back to them?"
"The victim's wife, Nakagawa Reina, 34 years old, sad it belonged to the victim himself."
Shinichi's eyes narrowed as he mulled over that information. Megure let out a thoughtful hum.
"I saw a girl at the ambulance—was she attacked, too? Maybe she saw something?"
"That would be the victim's daughter, Nakagawa Hanako, ten years old," said Takagi as he frowned down at his notebook. "She was found sitting beside her father, covered in blood and completely unresponsive." His frown deepened. "So far, she doesn't appear to have any injuries—seems like the blood belongs to the deceased. She's still not responsive, and is likely in shock—we won't be able to ask what she must have seen, at least for a while."
Megure passed a heavy hand over his face, looking much older than he ever had as he heaved a disgruntled sigh.
"Murdered right in front of his own daughter," he muttered. "What sort of monster does that?"
As the inspector had his miniature breakdown, Shinichi set himself to scan the area for security cameras. The only one he'd seen so far was outside the store, pointed at the entrance. That wasn't too strange—this particular clothing store was a fairly recent addition to the department, and was either still in the process of setting up security, or didn't have the funds on hand what with being so new.
It was understandable, if incredibly unfortunate.
As luck would have it, after reviewing the footage of the entranceway camera, they were able to narrow down not jus the time of death (based solely on public reactions), but they were also able to narrow down the suspects to just three individuals.
The wife, Nakagawa Reina, who was currently by the ambulance fussing over her despondent child; she and her family had come to the department store for restocking some household items—they saw the new store and decided to check it out. Evidently, after glimpsing the clothes, Hachiro ordered Reina to stand near the entrance while he had a "word" with the store's owner.
The store owner, Sakai Katsuo—at 52, he was surprisingly bulky, an impressive set of muscles hidden beneath the same sort of clothes he sold. It was his late sister's dream to open a clothing store, but she passed before she could see that dream fulfilled. He was suspected since he hadn't been seen leaving the store at all, making him present for the murder. He admitted to having spoken with Hachiro before his death.
Ueda Mei, surprisingly, lived next door to the Nakagawas. She claimed to have bumped into them at the store. As a 48-year-old woman who lived by herself, it was a little surprising to find her at a brand-new clothing store with clothes that didn't look anything like her style. She claimed to want to change her look. She denied speaking to the victim, and admitted only to saying hello to Reina near the door upon her entrance.
Unsurprisingly, everyone denied having seen anything to do with the murder. Shinichi absently wondered if asking outright had ever yielded a definitive answer before, instead of the vague not-quite clues such interactions usually came with.
Or in this case, no clear clues at all. He suppressed a groan as he listened to what appeared to be truthful accounts from the shopkeeper and the neighbor. Mrs. Nakagawa was still with her unresponsive daughter and refused to leave her side unless it was absolutely necessary.
There was nothing to indicate to the detectives that anyone was lying—no fidgeting, no slip-ups, no shifting eyes, no tells of any kind. It was driving the two Shinichis crazy; and if Sera had focused all of her faculties on the case instead of being suspicious of Not-Shinichi, she might have felt similarly frustrated by the lack of anything to work with.
Shinichi tiredly rubbed his chin as he stared at where the body used to be. At the blood that was so voluminous it probably wouldn't dry any time soon. Stared at it, silently demanding an answer from the splatters on the ground, wondering what the first few would have looked like—at least that might have given him a starting point. Whatever height the first stab might have occurred was buried beneath the forty other stabs succeeding it.
The fact he was stabbed forty-two times was telling, at least. He wasn't just disliked by his killer, but hated so viciously Shinichi had no comparison outside the realms of fiction. It wasn't cruel—a cruel murder wouldn't have looked like this. No, this… this hate looked desperate, and he wasn't sure what to make of that.
He was only half-paying attention when Not-Shinichi came to stand next to him, and he only looked up when his counterpart softly cleared his throat.
"Are you sure I haven't actually met Sera-san before?" he murmured softly. He was glaring at the puddle of blood, so Shinichi knew his faculties were split between the two mysteries at hand. He sighed.
"I've been trying to figure that out, too," he admitted bitterly. "She seems to know Ran and I from somewhere, and both Ran and I more or less agree we've met her before, but…" He sighed again. "She refuses to say anything about it, and only looks smug when either one of us asks."
"… Doesn't that mean she knows about you?" came the response as Not-Shinichi swiftly put two-and-two together.
"She thinks she knows about me," he said sharply. "She hasn't confirmed anything—there's a difference." The clone hummed thoughtfully as his eyes trailed along the edges of the blood pool.
"So, she obviously remembers us from somewhere, even if we don't remember her," he muttered darkly. "That… sounds like a problem."
"It is," said Shinichi quietly as he watched the girl in question move closer. "I'll explain the exact problem when she's not currently trying to pick our story apart." He rubbed his face tiredly as his double hummed in acknowledgement, and then redirected his focus on the crime scene.
"What're you two whispering about?" asked Sera as soon as she was close enough. Her tone sounded smug, as if she'd caught them in some act. Not-Shinichi spoke up first.
"Just trying to figure out how someone can be stabbed a total of forty-two times in succession without any witnesses." He blinked and tilted his head towards the paramedics. "Well, any coherent witnesses, anyway. Well… I suppose if he'd been stabbed in the stomach first—that would've knocked the air out of him so he couldn't scream right away…"
Sera's shoulders slumped in disappointment, but thankfully turned her attention back to the case at hand.
"Who the hell would do that in front of a child?" she asked, looking like she'd just bitten into a lemon. "And why leave the only witness alive, for that matter?"
And that was the cruelest part, wasn't it? Traumatizing a child so thoroughly they ended up practically catatonic: it didn't fit with the desperate anger of the crime itself.
"We need more information," Not-Shinichi grumpily admitted, turning his attention towards Takagi's location. "The only thing I could glean from their words as they provided their testimonies is that he wasn't very well-liked."
Shinichi snorted. That was an understatement. While they never said anything outright, it was quite clear no one seemed to mourn his death. He made the first move, leaving Sera and his clone to suspiciously glare at each other as they followed behind.
Takagi was talking to Ueda Mei, attempting to calm her down as she got more and more upset.
"I just don't understand why you're interrogating me!" she screeched at the man. "I didn't do it—I didn't do anything!"
"It's just for reference, Ueda-san," said Takagi gently, hands held up to placate the woman. "I just need to know where everyone was at the time—you're not the only one I'm asking."
"Then hurry up and ask someone else already," she snapped, not calming down in the slightest. Shinichi piped up before Takagi could continue the cycle.
"She was just here to buy some clothes, Takagi-keiji," he said innocuously, causing the older man to heave a resigned sigh. Mei's eyes lit up at the defense.
"See? He gets it!"
Shinichi made a show of looking around at the merchandise.
"Everything here looks kinda flashy to me, but I guess I'm too little to judge…"
"She already said she was looking for a change," said Takagi in a slightly condescending tone. Shinichi hated when people used that tone of voice, and it took everything he had to not snap at the officer. It was Sera who picked up the thread Shinichi had pointed out.
"Yeah, but usually when people try something new, the change isn't nearly so… drastic." She eyed the plain, modest clothes Mei was wearing; a stark contrast to the flashy clothes sold there—the target of the shop was undoubtedly college-aged students, not women in their late forties, no matter how the shopkeeper himself dressed. The woman flushed angrily.
"If you must know, I'm looking to start dating again," she snapped. No one wanted to mention the type of attention she was likely to get for her efforts. If she didn't know the sort of picture she was painting, the only thing that would make her wise up would be bitter experience. With her current attitude, imagining the possibilities was pretty vindictive.
"Like I said," Shinichi hummed innocently, "what would a kid like me know." He ignored the scoff sent his way in favor of pressing the next issue.
"Must've been a pleasant surprise to bump into your neighbor here." Another scoff.
"Pleasant, yeah. About as pleasant as getting a root canal." If she could get away with spitting, Shinichi had no doubt she would have.
"I take it you weren't close," said Not-Shinichi as he stepped up to place a hand on the smaller boy's head, acting as a cousin concerned his family's words might be too brash for the traumatized strangers. Shinichi squashed down the way the touch burned as thoughts of Ran bubbled to the surface of his mind.
"Kid, I don't think anyone was close to that jerk, save his wife and kid," she sneered as she glanced at the paramedics. "Even then, I'm not sure close is the right word. They're alright people when they're not hiding in his shadow."
She wouldn't talk much more after that, irritation radiating off her in waves. Shinichi hummed thoughtfully at the information as his double came to stand beside him. They both tensed as Sera came to stand with them, distrust dripping off her features.
"Seems like he'd been hiding a nasty personality," she said, sending Not-Shinichi a pointed glare.
"He's not the only one," grumbled Shinichi under his breath as the clone thoughtfully studied Sera's face. Her scowl deepened, daring him to deny the hidden accusation. He ignored her silent threats.
"You look very familiar," he mumbled instead, frustration lacing his voice with the failed attempt to identify her. Sera flinched in surprise, suspicious glare coming back in full force as her eyes flicked between the two Shinichis. She likely thought it was a coached comment, but couldn't discern the lie in his tone.
Shinichi ignored them as he wandered over to the store owner, Katsuo.
"Sakai-san," he said, pushing innocent curiosity into his voice as he tugged on the man's sleeve. "Did you really open this store just for your sister? Was it really hard to do?" The man blinked down at him and smiled gently, the tension in his frame easing slightly.
"I sure did," he said proudly, despite the sad smile on his face. "It took me ten years since I wanted to get everything just right. She was a perfectionist, even if I'm not—had detailed notes on how she wanted everything. The only thing that's not what her notes indicated are the clothes themselves, but that's par for the course when dealing with fashion trends."
Shinichi could only offer a pretend confused smile and a hum as his clone, followed closely by Sera, came to offer a more "adult" insight to the fashion in question.
"So, she wanted to sell flashy clothing?" asked Sera, still keeping a close, suspicious eye on the clone.
"She wanted to sell affordable date and club clothes," the older man corrected coolly, unimpressed with Sera's tone. She'd sounded terribly judgmental, and to be fair Shinichi couldn't tell if the tone was directed at the clothes or Not-Shinichi.
"I'm sure she'd be thrilled at what you've accomplished," said Not-Shinichi kindly, pointedly not looking at Sera. Katsuo preened, despite a lingering sadness just behind his eyes. Shinichi couldn't imagine the man risking his sister's dream for anything, but people weren't always logical.
"You said you talked to Nakagawa-san before he was murdered, right?" asked Sera. Her attention was still on Not-Shinichi, glaring at him as if doing so would reveal her suspicions about him. Katsuo glanced between the two teenagers, likely reading the hostility that was thankfully not directed at him.
"I wouldn't call it talking," he eventually said, wisely choosing not to comment on the charged tension in front of him. "He'd decided yelling at me for selling trashy clothing was more appropriate than just shopping elsewhere." He rolled his eyes. "Gave me an earful about how he wouldn't be caught dead letting his wife near my clothing in public. I told him he could shop elsewhere if he felt that strongly about it, but he just wanted to scream at me some more." Here his eyes turned cold. "He made some nasty comments about my sister when he heard about the shop's history."
Ah. That could be a motive. The two Shinichis glanced at each other, both probably thinking the same thing. Not-Shinichi quietly thanked the store owner before the two walked away, effectively pulling Sera away before she could ask any more rude questions simply because she was more focused on the mystery of the supposedly fake Shinichi to be bothered to read the room.
As Shinichi kept tabs on her from the corner of his eye, he suddenly remembered something Ran had said about the girl. He wondered if Not-Shinichi could use the information better than he had—the clone didn't have all the months of traumatizing events and realizations Shinichi had experienced since the shogi cave incident, so perhaps his mind wasn't quite as cluttered.
Now the only issue was relaying the small morsel of Ran's insight without tipping off Sera. If she thought he was coaching responses, they'd never get this issue taken care of.
He stared over at the new widow for a few seconds, then his eyes darted over to the paramedics where Hanako was still despondent, thought noticeably cleaner. Since the two were near each other, he didn't think it would be too strange if he wanted to check on the child before speaking to the mother, just as long as he didn't use the syrupy sweet "Conan" voice he knew Sera would instantly be suspicious of.
Making a split-second decision, he grabbed Not-Shinichi's hand and pulled him towards the paramedics. The clone, seemingly having suspected Shinichi was planning something, went without complaint.
"Let's check on Hanako-chan before talking with her mom," he said, keeping his voice just on the friendlier side of neutral to avoid suspicion. He tapped out a message in code in his clone's palm as he led the way.
Ran hears ocean with Sera sometimes.
Not-Shinichi hummed in acknowledgement, brows furrowing slightly as he digested the information. He thankfully didn't glance at Sera, though Shinichi knew he probably really wanted to. He hoped Ran's candid comment proved to be a valuable clue, if not to himself then perhaps to the one currently piloting Ran's body.
To keep up pretenses, he didn't let go of Not-Shinichi's hand until they were right in front of the first responders. Shinichi bounced up to the now relatively blood-free girl, the other him stepping up quietly behind him. The clone glanced between the girl and her distraught mother—who was sitting a few feet away, babbling to the paramedics—a few times before deciding on leaving Hanako to Shinichi.
Shinichi climbed into a chair next to Hanako, trusting the other Shinichi to ask the right questions, and giving an unimpressed glare to Sera who thankfully didn't interfere with the investigation. She stood nearer to the children, but continued glowering at the clone. Shinichi snatched the opportunity to speak to the detective who was obviously emotionally compromised, while keeping an ear on Not-Shinichi's line of questioning.
"Sera-no-neechan," he said, voice quiet but sharp. She turned her cutting glare to him. He matched her gaze coolly. "Someone died. This isn't about you."
She blinked a few times before grimacing and raked a hand through her hair, looking properly chastised.
"I'm still tryin' to figure out where he came from," she mumbled, looking pointedly at him, though the expression was much less cutting than her previous glares. Shinichi bit back a sigh at her stubbornness. What detective wasn't stubborn, after all?
"If you don't believe us, I really don't know what to tell you," he settled on, feeling so, so tired. It wasn't even as if they were lying to her—the clone was Shinichi, even if the admission hurt Shinichi deeply. She merely scoffed, but didn't comment in favor of continuing her scrutiny. Shinichi left her to her devices and turned his attention to Hanako, who hadn't even responded to their presence.
He idly kicked his feet in the space between his seat and the floor, cataloging everything on the ten-year-old that hadn't been cleared away by the paramedics—she'd need to change her clothes soon, before forensics got antsy, but they were very understanding.
He tuned in to Not-Shinichi's discussion with the new widow. Evidently, there was no love lost there, but she had very little reason to murder Nakagawa Hachiro. The man was the sole bread winner of the house, and it sounded like he kept Reina on such a short leash that she actually didn't know how to function with him gone.
Sounds like textbook abuse, mused Shinichi, eyes turning back to Hanako. A ten-year-old would be smothered in such an environment. As Reina was hysterically babbling on about how Hachiro often lost his temper with Hanako, Shinichi's eyes happened to fall on the little girl's hands. He frowned.
There were strange cuts and indents half-hidden in her closed fists.
A creeping suspicion swept over the detective like spiders scuttling under his skin.
"Hanako-chan," he said quietly, unintentionally catching everyone's attention. "May I see your hands?"
Hanako blinked and, for the first time since the case started, acknowledged Shinichi's presence. She turned her head and stared at him, though there was still no life in her eyes. She slowly unfurled her hands for him. Not-Shinichi took in a sharp, startled breath, and quietly made his way over to the child.
The outline of some sort of grip cut into the skin of her palms, indicating such a tight hold on the object in question that its edges broke the skin in some places. Dawning horror blocked his throat when he recognized the shape as the handle of a pocketknife.
Not-Shinichi knelt down in front of Hanako and gently pulled her hands to rest in his. Sera looked curiously over his shoulder as he examined her palms in resolute silence. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as she registered what she was looking at. Not-Shinichi finally closed his hands over Hanako's and looked sadly into the girl's glassy eyes.
"That must have been very painful, Hanako-chan," he whispered. Her blank stare didn't look back at him, even as the tears started falling.
Given the circumstances, it was lucky Sera was still mostly distracted with the "Shinichi imposter," otherwise a scene might have been made as they quietly beckoned Megure and Takagi over to explain the devastating truth.
At age ten, Nakagawa Hanako became a murderer.
Evidently the abuse her father had inflicted on her and her mother went beyond just verbal and exchange of blows. The pocketknife she killed him with had been used on them both, featuring in what was becoming clear was a psychopathic psychological game.
Reina endured it for the sake of her daughter, broken by the man she'd married, and under the assumption that Hanako was safe as long as she complied with her husband's games.
She was wrong.
Based on the number of old and new scars the paramedics saw after finally getting the girl a change of clothes, it was clear who the man's favorite toy had been.
Shinichi had a strong suspicion that the fact Hanako snapped in public was because Hachiro was playing his "game" in public… Without video evidence, and Hanako still mostly unresponsive, they couldn't know for certain, but it didn't paint a pretty picture.
Hanako and Reina were both whisked away to the hospital, a few officers following. Hopefully, they could get those two some psychiatric help—neither could function without the sad excuse of a human being that had been Hachiro.
Everyone stood in horrified silence for a few minutes, trying and failing to compartmentalize the complete travesty the case turned out to be. It was Sera who finally broke the silence.
"Man, I don't think there's a single thing that can lift my spirits today," she said with a big sigh, turning to look Shinichi in the eye. "Not even a magician like you."
Just as he was about to snap back that he still didn't know what that meant, he caught Not-Shinichi's eyes as they lit up in recognition. The clone snapped and pointed at Sera.
"You're the kid from that beach case!" he said, the relief of finally remembering coloring his tone. "With the accordion playing brother who's not a Pierrot clown."
Sera's head snapped to look at the clone, all color rapidly draining from her face as she realized that this "fake" Shinichi actually remembered her. She quickly looked back at the child she was certain wasn't a child, denial and theories flashing behind her eyes.
Shinichi very carefully did not let recognition show on his face as he also finally recalled the event—and all the people involved—even as something icy and numb started to creep down his spine. He turned to his double, eyebrows raised in a curiosity he didn't feel.
"Shinichi-niichan, you've met her before?" he asked, voice deceptively light. Not-Shinichi frowned slightly, confused at the mood only he could pick up.
"Yeah," he said, looking up at the ceiling to avoid looking at Shinichi in confusion and concern, which might tip Sera off. "Mom took me and Ran to the beach ten years ago—she was there with her mom and… two older brothers."
Sera looked a little green, her mouth opening and closing with words that refused to come.
"Sera-no-neechan, are you okay? You don't look so good." If his voice had a little too much innocence laced in it, no one was going to call him out on it. "You should probably go home and rest. I guess it's not surprising with a murder case like this. I think Shinichi-niichan and I need to go home, too."
With that, he grabbed Not-Shinichi's wrist and marched them away from a spluttering Sera before anyone could see how Shinichi was rapidly losing control of the innocent mask he tried to wear. The police officers let them go without a fuss, likely nauseated at the prospect of a child killer.
Shinichi let go of his clone when they cleared the building, but kept walking.
"You're angry," Not-Shinichi observed carefully when he was sure the girl detective wasn't following. "What exactly am I missing?"
"She's been trying to out my identity ever since she showed up," said Shinichi, voice tight as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "To Ran. Publicly." Not-Shinichi hummed, frowning at the information.
"Hattori tried something similar," he pointed out. "Mostly it was blackmail to get us to tell him, but I've no doubt he'd have gone through telling Ran that day if we hadn't stopped him. There were other people in the room at the time as well, so that also would've been 'public.' We told him. Why not tell Sera?"
"That was different. We didn't understand how dangerous the situation was, and Hattori didn't know any better."
"And Sera-san does know better?"
Shinichi stopped walking.
"I have a very hard time believing she doesn't," he said quietly He wanted to scream. He wanted to march right back to the mall and demand to know what the hell she was thinking. But he couldn't.
The sound of gravel crunching behind him as the clone moved was the only sound Shinichi could hear over his ringing ears. A pair of legs came into view in front of him, and they bent, crouching down until he was staring at his own face. Determined eyes bored into his own fury-filled ones, begging for clarification. For facts.
"Explain."
"… Mary," said Shinichi, loading the name with meaning. Not-Shinichi waited, knowing the smaller teen was gathering his thoughts. "Sera's mother, she—" He took in a steadying breath and brought his hands up to his face, dislodging his glasses as he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. "She's like me," he finally whispered. Not-Shinichi inhaled sharply through his nose, but didn't interrupt. "Sera's been dropping hints about it, trying to bait me into revealing myself."
"And you didn't confront her about it?"
"I tried to. I really did. If they had just come to me from the beginning, or even when I tried to get Sera to tell me what was going on, I would've tried my best to help. You know I would have. I… I tried to be subtle in my own investigation, but every time I actually brought up possibly knowing her in the past, she would ignore my comments." He brought his hands down and stared at them. "It was like she was playing a game with me, waiting for either me or Ran to remember her."
He blinked, remembering what she'd said about the picture of shrunken Mary that was on her phone's lock screen. The 'sister from another domain' suddenly made a whole lot more sense, and disgust at that realization—and how this whole matter was handled—made its way across Shinichi's face.
"Mary was MI6," he said, voice devoid of emotion.
"Shit," came Not-Shinichi's response, his own realization dawning.
A mirthless laugh scraped its way from Shinichi's throat, cold and disbelieving.
"They both knew better," he seethed, the fury coming back. "How the fuck does an ex-member of MI6—who's had that sort of contact with the Crows—justify how this was handled?" The question was rhetorical, but he really wanted an answer. He started walking again. "If they'd just… ugh!" He looked up at his clone. "They knew who I was before I knew about them—they were certain. All they had to do was come to me privately!"
"I'm just as shocked as you," said Not-Shinichi darkly. "What's the point in outing you publicly if it's also going to get them in trouble? I mean, what's the end game there?"
Shinichi didn't know, but there was a certain undercover FBI agent he could ask.
He stewed silently the entire trip home, and if he kicked every rock, stick, or can along the way? Well, the other him knew better than to comment on it.