Chapter 3

Compounded Memories

She was ten. She was sure of it. She remembered the incident quite vividly.

A portion of her life was spent with black-suited strangers visiting her house frequently. A superficial constant, their faces were always changing. They followed them everywhere. Shiho was homeschooled, and her sister wasn't. Her childhood was mostly spent locked in a room tutored by unresponsive adults. Yet, despite the dreary, monotonous routine, it was Akemi, at least, who made living—bearable.

Every evening, her sister would take her to her room under the constant supervision of the black-suited men. There—the two children would talk about school, friends, and the life that Akemi led outside the place known as home.

She spoke of a woman—a mother, a man—a father. Of a loving but seldom strict British woman and a studious but kind Japanese man. However, whenever Shiho asked Akemi about their whereabouts, she would fall silent. Her sister often describes them with a hint of sadness. And though Shiho would have loved to learn more about her parents, her relationship with them was fickle at best. Eventually, she learned to steer clear of the subject.

It was, therefore, inevitable that when they grew older, stories of her parents ebbed. But Akemi remained. Her sister, thus, became her rock, her constant until they came.

Supposedly a genius, Shiho would be enrolled in a foreign school. America, they said. The change had been so abrupt that she had no time to think about it. And before they knew it, they were separated.

So, here she was—ten years old, locked in a dark room. The only source of light was a black fluorescent lamp that flickered every once in a while. They told her she was to meet an informant. The black suits were vague, never elaborating. Over the years, she has learned not to question them. They were strict, never wavering to the request Akemi made, and if they disobeyed—Shiho shivered. She did not want to know the consequences.

She waited for a long time. The stranger's arrival was marked by the sound of slamming doors. Standing before her was a man carrying with him an aura of menace. Silver hair streamed out from under his black hat. He stunk of burnt smoke and fire, cigar dangling from his fingers. His golden eyes were steely and emotionless. And she shrunk away from his piercing gaze.

"Sherry," his voice a deep rumble, grating, not pleasant. When she did not respond, he grabbed her by the shirt collar, forcing her to look at him.

"Answer when I call you," he ordered.

Sherry. Was that her name now?

She did not know, and the man released her by slamming her back against the chair.

"Sherry," he repeated, and Shiho nodded. He smirked, his lips twisting into a crooked grin. "I see I have my work cut out for me," he sighed, and before she could react, he had taken the smoking cigar and placed it on her arms. The pain was sudden and fierce. She cried out as he pressed it down. It was excruciating. Shiho was baffled by the violence.

"Welcome to the Organization, girl. I'll be your handler from now on, and I expect absolute obedience from you." The cigar never left her skin. The searing pain—ingrained in her mind.

Too horrified to speak, she did not respond, and he struck her. Falling to the ground, her vision blurred, and could only whimper as the man stood over her.

"Where is my answer?" he drawled. "Sherry."

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly, and he grinned.

"Good. You're learning fast."

Discarding the lit cigar, he stamps on it.

"Remember," he warned menacingly. "There are things worse than death. Betrayal is not an option."

Dizzy from the violence, Shiho couldn't answer. "Do you understand?"

Choking on blood pooled, she coughed as he kicked her again. Seizing her, an animalistic eye gleamed a deep, menacing gold—smothering her with agony. "Do you understand, my dear?" he repeated.

"Yes," Shiho forced out.

"Nice to meet you," he laughs, running a finger down her cheeks, "Sherry."

And as sudden as he came, he was gone.

Shiho collapsed, gasping for air. Every part of her body ached, her ears ringing from the encounter. She did not understand. It happened so fast.

It felt like—a bad dream.

It would be fine. She told herself. Onee-chan will be here soon.

Curling into a ball, Shiho shuts her eyes tight, unable to move.

Shiho woke with a gasp, the ceiling morphing into golden eyes, burning hot and angry. Clutching her chest, she sat up— eyes darting about in panic. Where was she? Still disorientated, she stiffens when she heard movement—only to find the professor snoring peacefully beside her.

I am safe. I am with Hakase. I am safe.

Inhaling deeply, she tried to calm her thudding heart by reciting her usual mantra.

I am safe. Hakase is with me; nothing can—

Golden eyes peeked through the unrelenting darkness. Shadows curled around her ankles. From within buried memories, a silver-haired beast laughs with ominous delight.

"There is nowhere," he drawled, "To run."

Buried memories surge through, threatening to surface like a roaring dragon.

Pressing her hands against her eyes, Shiho blots out the images rushing past. Eventually, they stopped, and she lets out a shaky breath.

Just her luck. Lips twisting into a bitter smirk. To be dreaming of that incessant monster.

Glancing at the clock, she grimaced at the time. It was three in the morning, too early for anything. And—

Shiho crawled from under the covers. Grabbing the lab coat hanging by the high-rise chairs, she proceeded to the basement.

She won't be getting any sleep tonight.

Shinichi knew something was up when he entered the house. The professor was still sleeping, snoring loudly in the bed next to the living room, mumbling something incoherent. Haibara, though, was not. Glancing at the kitchen counter, he expected to see her fixing breakfast, but she was not there.

Noticing that the lab coat she usually draped on the chair was missing, he sighed before making for the kitchen drawers.

Twenty minutes later, Shinichi stands outside the basement, holding two cups of coffee.

"Haibara," he called. There was no answer.

Kicking the door open, he finds her typing furiously. She was lost in her work, not reacting when he set the green mug down on the table. Unresponsive—when he called her name again.

Shinichi frowned, realizing that something was amiss. Her eyes were wide open, her hair was a shriveled mess, and she was muttering various equations under her breath. Her looks reminded him of a cliche mad scientist. It would have been funny if it wasn't so strange.

"Haibara," he repeated, reaching out to touch her shoulder. A mistake.

Whipping around, she grabs his hand and twists it. There was a wild look in her eyes. Withholding none of the liveliness from the past few months; instead, carrying the ice-cold tones that she had when they first met. Shinichi yowled, dropping the blue mug. The contents spilled, splashing on her. Hot liquid scalding skin, she barely reacted and instead faced him with bubbling indignation.

"Kudou," she snapped. "What are you doing?"

"Was there a need for this!" he exclaimed. "I was simply calling for you!"

She flinched, falling silent, and he noticed swollen blisters forming on her skin.

He drags her to the sink, despite her protests. Holding her burnt hand under running water, he observes her for a moment.

"What happened?"

There were bags under her eyes, and she looked positively haunted.

"It's nothing," she sighed.

Shinichi snorts before tightening his grip, not letting go. "Kudou," she warned, growing increasingly annoyed.

He eyed her as she faced the ground.

"We both agreed not to keep secrets after the train incident. Tell me, what's wrong."

"It's nothing," Haibara repeated, aloof in her replies, "Just a bad dream, that's all."

"A bad dream?"

The girl ignored him, instead picking up the mug he dropped.

"I'm glad you used plastic," she changed the topic. "How are you able to take down criminal masterminds yet, still spill drinks like a toddler?"

"That's a low blow," Shinichi sighed, "It was partly your fault. Besides..." he gestures to the mug on the table, "I made coffee for you."

Haibara, who finally notices it, takes a sip before giving him a look.

"It's horrible."

"Oi."

When she pulls open her drawer, Shinichi frowns, perplexed by her actions. Taking out what appears to be a pain-relief tape, she grabs hold of his hand.

"Haibara?"

Pressing the tape against his bruise skin, she applies it gently. Astonished by her actions, Shinichi pulled away before noticing the swelling redness in her hand.

The burn she sustained from his spilled coffee was still swollen, but she was not bothering with it.

"You might want to ice that," he nagged. Haibara did not answer— her eyes taking on a glassy look as though she were far away.

"Haibara," he repeated like a broken recorder that he knew would annoy her, "you need to ice..."

There was something brimming in them. A torrent of emotions swirling beneath the surface, threatening to implode. With an unreadable visage, she regarded him briefly.

"It's not the first time."

Not the first time?

A familiar smirk appeared on her lips as she pushed the empty blue mug into his hands.

"Don't drop it again, little boy," she mocked, and he groaned in frustration.

"Get ready. We have class today," Shinichi reminded her.

"Yes, mommy," she joked, and he was once again annoyed by the teasing tone in her voice.

She gestured for him to leave the basement as he raised a confused brow.

"You told me to get ready, didn't you?"

Slowly, she peels back the shirt she was wearing. Realizing it too late, he gasped before bolting out of the room.

"Per-vert," she concluded before closing the door behind her.

"You could have warned me!" he retorted before grumbling under his breath.

That girl...was definitely acting strange.

She emerged from the basement wearing her usual uniform, and they made their way to school.

Shinichi noted with satisfaction that she had treated the burn.

The day passed relatively smoothly. Kobayashi-sensei talking excitedly about her newfound romance with Shiratori-san. Haibara making her usual off-putting remark about marriage and babies, which caused the teacher to blush and the children to laugh.

After school, they headed to the park and sat on the benches while Genta brought out the soccer ball.

"Mitsuhiko, you're the goalie!" he commanded as the taller boy protested. Haibara, who usually joins, was quiet. Choosing to sit by the benches instead. She watched them as they started their usual game of football. Her smile was bright, but her eyes carried an imperceptible sadness that seemed to permeate the air around her.

The children noticed it too, and after much discussion between the three of them, Haibara was forced into the session by Ayumi. She was less active, though, and by the time evening rolled around, Shinichi had had enough.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me it's nothing," he demanded.

She blinked at him.

"I have what we girls call a period, Edogowa-kun. Are you satisfied?"

Shinichi stumbled. His eyes widened into saucers as she smirked.

That bloody idiot.

"Haibara..." he warned while she sniggered softly.

"Should I elaborate?"

"Tell me the truth!"

"Ara, I told you as much, or should I prove it to you?"

"Haibara!"

"Look," she interrupts his rant, walking ahead, "It's just the usual nightmares. I haven't been sleeping well. I'll get over it."

Shinichi frowns as she smiles wryly, "It's nothing."

It was always like this. A game of cat and mouse. A constant barrage of riddles and guesswork.

There was always something more, but the girl—would never reveal it.

He was often infuriated by it, but this time—

He caught up to her, grabbing her hand.

"What-"

"Ice cream," pulling her along. "We're going to get ice cream."

Grinning widely, Shinichi faced her.

"I promise it'll cheer you up," he continued and watched, amused, when Haibara averts her gaze.

"Idiot," she whispered as he chuckled.

"Likewise."

The days continued uneventfully, speckled with a handful of cases and murders, until—they showed up.

"Conan-kun, join us!" Mitsuhiko yelled to him. He was by the kitchen counter and seated in front of a laptop. A new member from the organization had surfaced, and he had no time to try a demo game that the professor invented.

"Conan-kun!" Ayumi whined in irritation. Pressing fingers into his ears, Shinichi had half a mind to kick the children out of the house. Cursing at the fact that they have to choose today out of all days to meet.

"Hakase, can you pass this information to…" he was about to say when he was lifted from his chair. His protests were in vain as Genta, the bigger boy, carried him to the couch where they gathered. A racing game was playing loudly on the television. Haibara dominated one section of the match, winning against Mitsuhiko, who was clearly driving badly.

"There, stop stalling and join us, sheeze," Genta chided.

"Look, I have something to do," Shinichi snapped. The children protested as he was leaving when she intervened.

"Don't bother him. He's just scared," Haibara teased, pressing the buttons on the controller with practiced ease.

"Scared?" the children asked.

"Yes," Haibara turns to him with an impish smirk. "Scared to lose."

Why that little—

"Why should I be?" Shinichi demanded, and to the children's delight, he snatched the controller from Mitsuhiko, who giggled rather childishly.

"You're on!"

"I don't think you'll win, Conan," Genta chuckled, "Haibara's a pro at this."

Two hours later and losing to the evil-eyed girl yet again, Shinichi had had enough. Slamming the controller rather childishly, he glared at the girl, who gave a lazy yawn.

"Just give up," she mocked, making him more annoyed, and the children laughed.

Unsatisfied with the results, he was about to challenge her again when the doorbell rang.

Who was it?

Visitors were rare in the middle of the afternoon. Unless—

With a worried look, he shared a look with Haibara, who understood his intentions immediately.

"Sah," she said, packing up the games, "Want to go to the park?"

Shinichi is grateful for her quick thinking.

Grabbing his spare soccer ball, she waves it at them. "Let's go," she smiles, and the children followed her in excitement.

With the children gone and the house emptied, Shinichi motioned to the professor, who nodded.

Swallowing in apprehension, the old man opens the door.

Shiho wasn't going to argue with Shinichi when he was worried. She'd seen that look before, and she knew there wasn't much she could do until he was done with whatever case he was working on.

She was different that way, he had remarked once. Apparently, he thought she understood him better than anyone else. She begged to differ, but she knew better than to tell him the truth.

"Where's Conan-kun?" Ayumi asked as they headed to the park.

"Yeah," the boys joined in, and Shiho was again forced to give a silly explanation that would be laughable if she were not addressing children.

They played for an hour. The darkening skies signaled the end of their football session. Bidding the children goodbye, Shiho slowly made her way back. Holding the ball tightly across her chest, Shiho stared apprehensively at the door—afraid of what she would find inside.

They were there—seated by the kitchen counter. Heavy discussions, muffled by the hiss of a boiling kettle.

"I see. The FBI is making their move, aren't they?" Shiho interrupted their little procession. When she closed the door, four pairs of eyes converged on her.

"Haibara," Shinichi started, "You're early."

"Save it," she stopped him as she glared at the two intruders who had just appeared. Subaru-san and Jodie-sensei. The brown-haired man and blonde-haired woman glanced at each other uneasily as she settled beside Shinichi.

"So, what are you doing here?" she demanded. Their presence was disturbing, and she half wanted to throw the intruders out, but she held herself—taking a deep breath. They were here for a reason, and Shiho knew they needed assistance. There was no logic in denying the aid of the FBI—even if—she glanced at Subaru. Even if she had an idea of his identity.

"Stop hiding," she continued. "What is it?"

"Haibara," Shinichi started, but she shut him up with a glare, and he winced.

"Well, circling around the matter won't help anyone."

The bespectacled woman flipped open a laptop, and on the screen was a familiar red-brick apartment. Gasping, she faced the FBI agents, brimming with anticipation.

"Surveillance has been set up around the area, and we are fairly certain that something important is kept in your old apartment," Subaru began. His voice was uncomfortable to hear, but she kept it to herself.

"And?" she asked.

Although Shiho knew what she had kept there, the risk was too significant. When she betrayed the Organization, she knew they would keep a close eye on it. Therefore, to appear at her apartment in the guise of Haibara Ai would be tantamount to a death sentence. Likewise, telling Kudou Shinichi about it was a no-go. The shrunken idiot would have barged in and killed them all in the process.

"Over the past two days, several organization agents have been breaking into your house," Shinichi stared at the laptop, the gears in his head turning. "I suspect you might have something they would want, but recovering it would be somewhat of a challenge."

"Yes, so we'd appreciate any information you can provide about the operation we're planning," Jodie continued.

"Me?" Shiho asked, "You want my assistance?"

Shinichi groaned, recognizing that stubbornness. He knew that an argument was about to occur and that she was not inclined to provide the information so easily.

"If it's possible," Subaru replied. Shiho studied him with intense scrutiny before snorting.

"Why would the great FBI need the help from an ex-member of the organization?" she asked, "Why risk the operation? Do you really trust me?"

Even though Shiho knew she was being difficult and somewhat petty, the anger of being lied to and played with remained.

Facing Subaru, she seethes. Akemi. Closing her eyes, she suppresses her emotions. He had promised.

And now she was six feet underground, buried and forgotten, killed and discarded like a sheep.

"Haibara," Shinichi pleaded.

"We trust you," Jodie-sensei sensed the tension. "I trust you, Miyano-san."

Shiho hesitated for a moment—a crooked smirk flirting to her lips. They had used her name. They knew who she was. It had always been this way. As usual, Shiho had no control over the situations she was in.

"Fine," she relents, "I'll tell you, but promise me," she glared at Subaru, "that this operation will not hurt anyone related to me, including the children, Ran, Hakase—him," Shiho motioned to Shinichi who squinted.

"Understand," she repeated.

"Yes," Jodie-sensei answered, as Subaru-san nodded.

"Haibara, do you really..." Shinichi trailed off when he saw the look in her eyes. A slow disbelieving smile spreads across his lips.

"You have information! You kept a list, didn't you?"

His exuberance annoyed her.

Idiot.

This could spell the end for him if everything went south. And Shiho would not take any chances even if the operation was conducted by the god-almighty FBI.

"Haibara, tell us!" Shinichi exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Just expensive lingerie," she shuts him down almost immediately.

Subaru and Jodie glanced at her with raised eyebrows while the professor spat out his tea.

"You asked, and I answered."

"Expensive lingerie, really, Haibara!"

"Oh yes, lacy ones. Your favorite?"

Nervously laughing, he shut her up by placing a hand over her lips. Subaru smirked as Hakase giggled. Jodie patted the boy on the back to break the awkward atmosphere.

"It's cool, kid. We've all been there," she winked at him. Shiho watched wistfully as the boy's face turned a deep red before resigning.

"A thumb drive," she whispered softly as the room descended into silence. "I kept it in a place. It contained highly classified information about the members of the Organization. Although not all of them. But I'm sure it had some key names, such as—"

Shiho paused, the fear making it hard for her to say his name.

"Gin?" Shinichi whispered.

"Sherry, when would you learn?"

Tied to a pipe, half-naked, she could still feel the scars he had left on her.

"You have three hours, Sherry," Gin intoned, and pain greeted her again before she could say anything. "Make sure you last."

"Haibara? Oi, Haibara", he nudges her, concerned, and Shiho gasped, snapping out of the memories that flooded her mind.

"Something the matter?" Jodie-sensei asked carefully, and it took everything for Shiho not to scream. Clasping her hands together, she prayed they wouldn't notice her shivering. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she composed herself.

"Yes," she whispered, unable to utter his name.

"I have hidden it in a fail-safe compartment in my apartment, but," she described the secret compartment she had explicitly built for this purpose. The agents were first impressed, then concerned when she revealed that she had rigged it to explode if anyone opened it incorrectly and then amazed when she revealed its potential.

"You could probably hack into their network with it," she states, and Shinichi pumps his fist in triumph.

"That's if you could retrieve it," she concluded.

There was a pregnant pause, followed by a tight hug. Shiho—stunned by Jodie-sensei's sudden show of affection.

"You're going to save many lives, Miyano-san," Jodie-sensei murmured.

"I…" Shiho was lost for words. This was new for her. She felt a weight on her shoulder and flinched when Subaru gave her a nod.

"Thank you," he replied slowly, as though considering his words, "Shiho," he whispered softly, and she instinctively slapped his hands away. Glaring at him, she stepped forward. Shinichi noticed and pulled her behind him. Shiho wasn't sure whether he was protecting or holding her back.

"You're-"

Subaru gave a half-hearted smile.

"Your sister would have been proud."

Sensing the tension, Jodie intervened, filling them with details of the operation. It would take some time, and they would have to eliminate any lingering organization members that would still be there, but if it goes all well, it could be a massive win for them. Shiho barely listened. Her gaze fixed on the man.

There was no doubt.

She knew who he was.

A ghost stood behind her.

"Shiho, I can get us out, trust me," Akemi wrapped her in a tight embrace. At that moment, Shiho regretted telling Akemi—everything.

That man promised to protect her.

When Jodie and Subaru left, Shiho succumbed to her memories. Leaning against the countertop, she held her breath as panic sets in—helpless to the imminent attack.

"Haibara?!" Hakase and Shinichi exclaimed, shocked to see tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Haibara, what...what's wrong?" Shinichi asked. Anxious lines etched across his face, and Shiho cursed. Why couldn't she control this? Why couldn't she hold it in? Why does the mere mention of her sister send her spiraling into despair? Why was she such—

"A failure!" The voice hissed, and she screamed as the silver-haired man banged her into the wall, twisting her hand up as she dropped the gun.

"Did you deliberately disobey orders?" Gin yelled as she tried to aid the man with a bleeding leg. Whipping around, he completed the job for her. The man collapsed—dead, and she sinks to her knees, watching in horror.

She had no time to react. He seized her, pinning her against the wall.

"Did you disobey me, Sherry?" Gin asked, shoving the gun into her shoulder, "Did you!"

Unable to answer, she cried out as he pulled the trigger.

Pain rushed through, stabbing like a million needles, and he sneered, eyeing her with disdain.

"Pathetic."

His words—dragging her into the abyss.

"Has she calmed down?" The professor asked.

The boy looked at the girl he had carried. Haibara had shut down after the meeting. With her face pressed against her hands, she trembled violently. Dry-heaving as tears ran down her cheeks.

Hidden behind her stoicism was the truth, and seeing it again reminded Shinichi of their first meeting.

At that time, he had little sympathy for the girl. She was, after all, a cold-blooded scientist who had developed a drug that shrunk him—who was responsible for the deaths of its victims.

The situation, however, had changed. He had learned of a world that was neither black nor white. And existing within its gray borders were individuals just trying to survive in limited circumstances.

Of people—who deserved a chance.

Still crying—Shinichi had no choice but to use the tranquilizer to calm her down. Covering her with the sheets, he turned to the professor.

"Let's get to work," he whispered.

There was nothing he could do for her now, but—

His purpose solidifies. Burning red hot, fuelling his drive.

He'll keep his promise.

The Black Organization had to be destroyed.