Shop Owners:
Mihei Mika- 35-year-old, ice cream store owner
Tawara Naoya- 65-year-old, Isonade Figurine Seller
Naomi Ikeda- 50-year-old, Convenience store owner
Chapter 13
Isonade does (not) exist
"Satou-san, Megure-san will not approve of this," the man groaned. Takagi eyed them with concern. The inspector disapproved of his partner's actions. He was perplexed by the sudden involvement of the shrunken teenagers. It was no fault of the black-haired man. After all, nine-year-olds were not usually included in murder investigations.
"It's dangerous," he continued as the woman sighed.
"It's fine, Takagi, and look; we're talking about Conan-kun. It's nothing new for him. Besides—"
Satou glanced at them intently. "His assistance would be greatly appreciated."
"Satou-san, how might they be of use? They are children!"
"Well, in our three months here, we have made no progress," the woman commented, "But they—"
She gestured to the slope they had been hiking up. "Have already figured out where these crimes might have been committed."
"Location?"
"Yes, Takagi-san," Shinichi gazed at the cherry blossoms lining the slope's edges. A cliff point lay ahead. Clearly, this was the only place their theory would make any sense. If they were right and the body had indeed been dropped from a height, then Mikako Cliff was the only place where it could have happened.
"It's not very well known," Shiho had searched the internet minutes ago. "And it's a long way from this beach," she added. But she scrolled through the data that she was gathering from her phone. "Among the cliffs in Matsuda. It's the only one perched over the ocean."
Hence, here they were. Hiking up towards a cliff point with no real direction. Satou-san filled them in on previous bodies found in the area. Shiho listens half-heartedly—distracted. Her attention was fixed on the operation. The image of her old apartment—her life within the organization playing like a broken recorder— over and over again. She paused briefly, staring at the azure blue sky above. White clouds floated silently while the sounds of ocean waves crashed rhythmically against cliffside rocks. Cherry blossoms rustled beside them, bursting into a frenetic display of bright pink petals. The peaceful, almost serene scene did nothing for the pile of worms constantly squirming in the pit of her stomach.
Shinichi had assured her that everything would be fine. And she was inclined to believe him. Although they had it under control, she still could not escape the deep pervading terror that often grips her. She could hardly lie anymore. The days following the incident with Yasuo were difficult. Like a persistent fly, he haunted, whispering menacingly with that sing-songy tone that fills her with dread.
The nightmares would not cease, and she finds herself in the professor's basement, working hard on an antidote. Being idle was dangerous, so she worked to distract herself from facing the issue.
"I think you ought to speak to someone," the professor adamant that she tried. But Shiho could not consider it. Just remembering—was enough. To talk about it would kill her.
Like it did to Akemi.
She lowered her head, facing a rough dirt road, fixated on the gravels and little stones, morphing into a foreign house's uneven gray concrete floors. The memories were bright, hot, and sharp. An ache ran down her back, swirling like stinging nettles, ending at the disfigured mark near the base of her spine. The heat grew, expanding and moving like slow-moving lava, burning her from within. Biting her lower lip, she tightens her closed eyes, pleading for the pain to pass.
"Haibara?" his voice cuts through the fog of pain. "What happened?"
She had lagged behind, and he had waited. Azure eyes look to hers, hands in pockets of khaki shorts too big on him, lips set in a grim line. "Nothing," Shiho forced the words out, "was just thinking about the case."
"Hmm..." Shinichi was skeptical but not pushing.
"As I was saying," he grabs her hand and pulls her forward after a short pause. "Our first order of business is to identify the victim. The woman could be local or a tourist."
"Or a mysterious entity summoned by a mythical creature known as the corpse magnet," she concluded, and he shook his head in exasperation. Shinichi made no comment, though, his grip tightening around hers. The warmth emanating from his touch eased the icy fear that had overtaken her. The fog dissipated. Shiho relaxed her rigid shoulders and allowed herself to breathe.
"What took you guys so long?" Satou-san called out to them.
From a flat plateau at the top of the cliffs, they could see the ocean below. An expanse of blue painted with coniferous clouds stretched into the horizon. Against the late afternoon sun, the waters shimmered like diamonds, reflecting the bright rays of a gentle spring sun. Along the cliff's edge were a flimsy-looking wooden fence and a tattered board with geographical information. It listed a warning not to stand too close to the edge.
"We could have taken the bus! " Takagi gestures to a wooden-box bus stop nearby. There were rough roads leading up to it. Three shops stood nearby, looking somewhat different from each other- and, in Shiho's opinion, out of place. The first was a small two-story convenience store that displayed the famous signature sign of a chain company popular in Japan. It had a modern appearance and seems to be erected recently.
The other two buildings were older. Among them stood a quaint ice cream shop. It was constructed of wood in the traditional Japanese way. In its entrance are sliding doors built with a lattice of wood and lined with translucent paper. Red roof tiles adorned the tops of its buildings, and potted flowers stood by the side. Wind chimes hung from its circular bamboo windows, softly ringing in the breeze. By the counter, a chalkboard signage was displayed. And behind it was a large freezer dipping cabinet.
The last store was rather run-down and decrepit. The building resembled a small shophouse and was poorly maintained. There were rusty old pipes winding their way across the side of its wall and faded blue glass windows that bore a few cracks. Some of the brown metal panels on the building were bent, and others were rusted. There was a faded neon sign at its entrance. Outside was a wooden table standing at knee height. An extensive array of little Isonade statues was displayed on it, although they were slightly different from those littered around the town.
"Where do we start?" Takagi studies the area at which they stood.
"We could interview the owners of these shops," Satou-san points to the shop buildings behind him.
"This is rare," a voice called out to them. A young woman with a friendly smile answered. Gray eyes framed her medium-length brown hair, which was slightly curly. She was an attractive woman and could pass as a model in one of the many fashion magazines she had browsed back home. She wore a red apron and a twisted circular symbol in the middle bearing a smiley face. "What's a family doing here?"
"A family?" Takagi, while observing Satou-san and the two shrinking teenagers, became flustered.
"No, they are not my children. We are..." he stammered.
Inspector Satou sighs, pushing the man aside and taking a badge from her pockets.
"We're from the special crimes investigation unit. We'd like to ask you a few questions. If that's ok with you."
Slightly confused, the curiosity the woman displayed earlier turned into weariness. "Has something happened?"
"A murder," Takagi gathered his composure and takes out a notepad. "The area has seen several murders lately."
"Oh, you mean like those bodies that were found recently?" The woman asked.
"Yes," he replied, "we would just like to know if you have seen anything suspicious or if you know of any raven-haired women who have recently come here."
"If she had, I would have remembered," she points to the ice cream shop behind her. "The few stragglers who actually make it to this spot often visit my store—which reminds me."
Her eyes twinkled as she squatted before Shiho and Shinichi, a smile on her face. "Would you like some ice cream?"
Later, they sat on the wooden bench. Known as Mika Mihei, the woman is thirty-five years old. After growing tired of city life, she moved back to her hometown to start a small business.
"My specialty is salted caramel. Most of my customers enjoyed that," she hands them the single scoop cups. The woman hummed a tune as she served them.
"Mihei-san, do you surf?" Shinichi's sudden question made the woman pause.
"How did you know?"
"Your hair. It's curly, bleached out, and quite dry. It only appears that way if you have spent a considerable amount of time at sea. The tan and sunburns on your arms and the surfboard behind the counter suggest that you are an avid surfer." Shinichi said as Mika gawked at him.
"You're a pretty observant boy," impressed, she gave him another scoop of ice cream, which he relished. "But you're right. I surf frequently. It's good for my body. '' She grinned, flexing her muscles.
"Are you married?" he continued.
The woman freezes, Shiho noticing the sad smile on her lips. She raised her hand hesitantly, and there, the faded mark of a wedding ring was visible on her ring. "I was, but my husband passed away two years ago," she admits. An awkward silence ensued.
"Way to go, Edogawa-kun," Shiho whispered to the boy scratching his hair, a little flustered by his insensitivity.
"I apologize," Shinichi offered weakly, and the woman clapped her hands together, breaking the silence herself.
"It's ok. I've moved on. Besides, Kohei would not want me moping around." Her voice was bright and airy, and she continued fixing the coffee she had been making for the inspectors. Though Mika appeared fine, Shiho noticed the deep longing in her eyes. In a sense, the smile on her lips was a juxtaposition, something which she forced. It was difficult to look at for some reason, so she concentrated on finishing the ice cream Mihei-san had given them.
"Are you certain that you have never encountered the woman before?" Takagi asked Mika again. The ice cream seller could only shake her head in response. "If you want, you can always ask Tawara-san or Naomi-san," she suggested, gesturing to the other two shops. "I'd be happy to introduce you to them."
"Please," Satou-san requested as the woman led them to an older man. There was a hard, stoic look in his eyes. The man sat in a way that reminded Shiho of the disciplinary master back in Beika Elementary. Stiff, back straight and rigid, legs tucked firmly beneath, lips set in a grim line as he glanced at them lazily. He was wearing a white hakama while holding a brush, expertly painting a pint-size Isonade figure. A souvenir shop?
"A woman?" he regards them with a mixture of hoarse indifference.
"Yes, Tawara-san, the police are investigating the bodies found recently," Mika answered.
"Ah, yes. Those people who have been stabbed in the neck?" Tawara Naoya smirked with a wicked smile on his wrinkled face. "Well, if they've been stabbed, that must mean Isonade has gotten to them."
"Tawara-san!" Mika scolded the old man, who scoffed.
"What do you mean by that?" Takagi asks the cynical old man.
"You've heard our folk tales, haven't you," the old man turns back to the statue, painting it while he elaborates. "Anyone who entered the ocean with evil intentions would be killed."
"Yes, but—"
"They're probably outsiders. I met one of the victims a month ago," Tawara drops a bombshell. "A young man did not tell me his name, but he was a nasty one, I can tell you. He just came in a hurry, demanding that he meet with Iso-san or something. He screamed when I told him that there was no such thing. He looked out of it. If anything, he looked like he was up to no good."
"An outsider, you say?"
"Yes, he came from Tokyo. Was screaming something about a website and how an Iso-san told him to meet them here."
"Tawara-san, why did you not tell us about this?" Mika chided. The old man snorted in reply.
"I have better things to do, so it's not a priority."
Shinichi and Shiho shared a look after the revelation.
"What made you think he wasn't 'good'?" Satou-san asked the man, who shrugged.
"Many individuals come here seeking something, and usually, they are searching for a treasure of some kind. A promise," he turned to face the cliffs.
"A promise?"
"This is why I hate interacting with young folks. They're too ignorant," he sighed.
Irritated, he lifted one of the statues he was constructing. "There's another version of Isonade's myth. In the aftermath of the death of his wife. Isonade allegedly went mad. Not out of rage but sadness. A legend says that if you offer enough blood to him, he will reward you."
"Blood?"
"Yes, the blood of those who carry evil wills and thoughts. According to them, Isonade was trying to gain power for himself, so he could revive his wife."
Shiho couldn't help but scoff at his statement. The words escaped her lips before she could control them.
"What does a mythical monster have to do with the bodies found?"
A grunt escaped the old man's lips. "They were stabbed in the neck, yes?" Tawara confirmed. "In fact, they were all probably outsiders looking for something. This Iso-san they were talking about. It was the entity that lured them here. To die." He laughs loudly, causing Mika to groan at his absurd actions.
Shiho crossed her arms. The old man was probably delirious.
"Well, that was unpleasant," Satou-san remarked later.
Takagi furiously scribbled in his notebook while Mihei Mika apologized profusely for the old man's behavior. "Tawara-san does not usually act like this. He's in a bad mood because business has been slow lately."
"A typical grumpy old frog," Shiho quipped, and Shinichi eyed her with a mocking glint.
"Reminds me of someone," was his only response, and she regarded him with a furrowed brow.
"In any case, we now know that our victim is probably not local," Satou-san concluded.
"This will narrow our search," Shinichi agreed.
"Considering there are at least 17 hotels in the area, that reduces the field significantly," Shiho quips sarcastically, and the others eyed her with sour looks.
"Guess it's time for some heavy-duty interviews, then," Takagi sighed.
"Naomi-san," Mika approached a slightly heavy middle-aged woman a few moments later. The bright lighting in the modern store contrasts sharply with the derelict Old Shack that was Tawara-san's store. The woman with pleasant blue eyes and curly black hair returned Satou-san's smile before frowning at the badge she drew from her sleeve.
"No, I have not seen her...nor any of the victims, if I am being honest," stated the woman. While fixing her glasses, Ikeda Naomi folded her arms, contemplating. I have security cameras installed outside, though. Maybe you can look at them," she exclaimed after a while.
"CCTV cameras?" Takagi remarked, and the woman nodded.
"I'll retrieve the footage for you," she leads them into a small room cluttered with monitors.
"Yuya-kun," Naomi continued, "my son helped me set these up."
A monitor displayed the scene outside the store. The image was blurry, filled with static noise, but that was enough. Despite the camera's limitations, the camera was able to capture the majority of the people moving through the area before the cliffs.
"Considering that the body had been submerged for more than eight days," Shinichi and Inspector Satou adjusted the timing, rewinding the tape, hoping to find something. The process took a few minutes which turned into a couple of hours. Mika and Naomi served them some drinks as they watched.
Shiho observed the shrunken detective, whose gaze was now firmly fixed on the screen. There was nothing that could disturb him now. Not even the vibrating phone tucked in his pocket or of an operation that would determine everything.
She stretched, needing a break—from the mostly empty footage. And—
The intrusive thoughts of an organization, of a silver-haired beast, of dead sisters and innocent victims killed by a drug she helped create.
Exiting the convenience store, she was greeted with the scene of a setting sun. The ocean glowed golden red as it dipped below the horizon. An orange hue spreads across blue skies, turning into a light purple, speckled with pinkish clouds that floated by. It was a hypnotizing sight, and she was lured—like a pied piper, enticing his victims into the void of uncertainty. Soon, Shiho found herself at the cliff's edge, staring wistfully at the view.
Against a rough, jagged rock face, foamy white waves crashed violently, stained crimson by the sun. Salty breeze gushed past, whipping through auburn bangs. It felt surreal. This dreamlike tranquility, a peace that would never last. The fluttering anxiety threatens to resurface once more. The sun continues to set, and the sea turns a deeper red—like blood— staining her hands and body with the agonizing weight of guilt.
"Not my wife, my children, please don't-" voices bubble from the abyss.
"Don't touch them, you monsters! No!"
"What are you doing? Why are you doing this? We want no part of this!"
"Please! Let us live. I will do anything!'
A swirl of voices, pleading eyes, screams of children, of fathers and mothers; gunshots, gold piercing eyes, and within it all—Sherry.
"Murderer."
Shiho fumbled, pressing her hands into her eyes.
"Don't worry, Shiho," Akemi's somber smile and warmth, a stark contrast to the rainy day of her departure. Shiho had no way to stop her from facing them. "I'll be ok."
She took a shuddering breath, leaning against the unstable wooden fence. Staring at the waves below. Frothy seafoam rolls across the surface—a trance-like rhythm—crashing turbulent waves suddenly inviting.
"That's dangerous," Tawara Naoya appeared, with eyes that bore into her own. Startled, she stumbles back from the edge. "What were you trying to do?"
Shiho averts her gaze, looking to the ground— words stuck in her throat— unable to answer.
"I understand you were lured by the beauty of the sunset, but try not to fall. We can't have any more 'accidents.'"
His tone was biting, and Shiho flinched slightly as he stood beside her.
"You're far too young, girl," he commented dryly.
"I wasn't—"
He gave her a dismissive wave, stopping her.
"I've seen that look before," the man glanced at the setting sun. "My wife," An ironic smile rolled across his lips. "She had the same expression."
Shiho pauses while the man sets a tiny Isonade statue down by the fence. "I wonder about her every day," he placed his hands together, lowering his head towards it as if offering a silent prayer.
"There are many who come here, little girl, many like you who carry a burden I don't wish to comprehend," he approached her. "I stand, a testament to the many who made that decision."
His words were haunting, holding no comfort.
"Despite the legends, Isonade has never granted a wish," Tawara continued. "The dead do not speak. There is no turning back. Remember that girl."
Faced with the unblinking focus of his clear brown eyes, she flinched.
"You've misunderstood, Tawara-san," she swallowed, collecting herself, "I was just trying to determine the direction of the ocean currents."
"Ocean currents?"
"I heard that the woman fell from here. Since it took so long for the body to return to shore, I wondered if the victim returned via open water currents."
The man was not convinced. "Well, if that's the case, shouldn't you tell them what you found," he drags her back towards the convenience store. The suspicion in his eyes made Shiho uncomfortable.
They hadn't made it halfway inside when they heard a scream. Masayuma Naomi had dropped the tray. Cups of hot tea fell to the ground, shattering as the woman cupped her lips with her hands. An "o" of horror forms on her lips.
"What is that?" Mika-san exclaimed. Both women were staring at the monitors. The date listed was nine days ago, and to the left of the screen was a strange scaly hand. The image was blurry and difficult to make out, but it was clearly not human. It jumps forward, distorts for a moment, and then—
There is a woman—the victim. She was staggering along the path in front of the convenience store. Her features were visible, despite the darkness. She seemed dazed, and through the blur of static and noise, the unmistakable flow of blood could be seen. Her fingers were smeared with the scarlet red of her bleeding neck. There was something stuck in her neck. A weapon? There was a gasp as she staggered, her lips gasping for air. At this point, she did something unexpected. She reached for the blurry weapon and yanked it away. Shiho recoiled at the sight. The victim had made a grave error. Even though the weapon was stuck, it had stopped the blood loss. The woman, desperate for air, grasped at the void, then tumbled over the wooden fence, falling from the cliff. The footage continued to play. Inspector Satou stopped it, turning to face the shop owners, who winced.
"The Isonade," Naomi's face a pale shade of white. "Were the legends true?"
"No, she was stabbed through her neck, through the jugular," Shiho watched the video again as Shinichi played it back. "She wasn't instantly killed, but the blood loss made her disoriented, and she-"
"Fell from the cliff. Somebody did this."
"But that hand, you saw it!" Naomi demanded. There was a pause. As Shinichi rewound the tape, everyone winced at the sight. It was there, that distinctive green bumpy texture of a webbed hand.
"What if," Satou-san muttered, "the Isonade really does exist?"
"Then we employ the ghostbusters," Shiho quips. This statement jolts the inspectors back to reality.
"She's right. We can't draw any conclusions just yet. We don't know what this is. It could all be a ruse," Shinichi reviews the tape again, focusing on the woman's neck.
The weapon, a stake-like object, was barely visible in the neck. "Whatever the case, we have to find the weapon. We know she pulled it out before falling, so it might still be there."
"Satou-san, Takagi-san, we know the method. Now, we need evidence," Shinichi ordered, and the two policemen nodded in agreement.
"Are the police really following orders from a kid?" Tawara-san regards the situation with amusement. Sighing, he looked at her and then at Shinichi.
"Well, I've seen stranger things," he muttered cryptically before walking away. Shiho turned to the screen, the green hand lingering by the edge.
"What would we earn if we sold this to a TV crew and marketed it as the long-lost Kappa?" she asked Shinichi.
"The Kappa is a mythical, fictional character, Haibara," he stated, with tight lips, "and it does not exist."
"Yeah, but you do."
"What does that mean even..." he trailed off, narrowing his eyes in response to her teasing gaze.
"Grim Reapers. They exist, don't they?"
"Oi."
There was something in the space before him. Across the darkness, he stood on a beach. Shinichi could feel the sand moving beneath his feet. Rough and biting under his bare soles. Ocean waves crashed on moonlit sands, reflecting a dull silver. His vision blurred at the shadows that shifted around him.
"Is there anybody there?" he thought. The unsettling feeling, squirming like snakes, festering in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed his fear. "Curiosity killed the cat," his father had once told him. The man's warning was a faint reminder of what happened the day he decided to follow a man with curious silver hair.
There was something ahead; he knew it. The gut-wrenching emotion that constantly tingled in his chest. He heard rustling, a low hiss. It didn't sound human. A gasp escaped his lips. He barely had time to run. The stench hits him first, the unbearable metallic pungent stench of fish guts and rotting flesh. From the darkness, it appeared— rows of jagged teeth, long and sharp, menacing in a wide-open mouth. It was a grotesque figure, an amalgamation of many sea creatures, formed into a mess, the shape of a deep-sea monkfish. A reincarnation of many sea creatures. A pair of black eyes stared into his. An abyss brimming beneath the surface. Scaly green hand and a long tail similar to a shark. A spear-shaped barb at the end.
"Isonade!" Shinichi cried as the creature pounced on him. The Isonade pinned him to the ground, its tail raised. As it plunged straight into his neck, he yelled.
"Are you still playing this game?" a discordant sneer made his blood run cold. Black eyes transform into golden ones, peering at him from within the darkness. A silver-haired man grinned, and a gun raised his smirk, widening into a Cheshire grin. "How long will it take?"
"What-"
As a raven-haired woman fell to the ground, he cried out. There was blood gushing from an open wound. Gin fired again. A childhood friend— Ran. She shrieked, and it was followed by silence. The man lunged forward, snatching the children before him. Ayumi collapsed first, her forehead punctured by a bullet, innocent blue eyes losing their color. Mitsuhiko and Genta screamed her name, faces etched in horror as they were hunted and killed. A black void engulfed the boys, pulling them away before Shinichi could speak.
"No!"
A silver bullet ripped through his parents as they lay in a heap. A faint gasp escaped him as Gin laughed once more. The man's twisted smile transformed into a nightmare. Hands grabbed him by the mouth and slammed him to the wall. Another gunshot rang out, and the professor followed. The friendly smile faded from his lips.
No, this can't be happening. He had to stop this. Shinichi struggled desperately but found that he could not move. He was helpless and froze at the sight of a silver-haired beast. The fear ran deep, and he cried out as the man grinned. No!
"You think you can stop this," the man's golden eyes bored into his own. "But you are just a tiny speck in the vast scheme of things."
Shinichi struggled to free himself from the vice-like grip. Gloved leather hands tightened around his mouth. He could not breathe, could not scream.
As Gin raised the gun, the black metallic weapon glinted in the moonlight.
"No! Stop!"
An auburn-haired scientist sank to the ground. Green, glassy eyes stared at him, frozen, unresponsive. Blood gushed from her wound. The light fades. It was blinding, white, scorching, terror, fear, and anger mixed into unimaginable agony. A smirk spread across Gin's face. "So long, great detective."
A spear stabs right through his neck, blood erupts from an open wound, and Gin transforms into the Isonade. Black eyes once again peered into his own, sinking him into the deep valleys of despair.
"You cannot save everyone, Kudou."
With a gasp, he arose and grasped tightly to his shirt. Shinichi's breaths came rapidly and quickly. Panic swept through him as he looked at the futons next to him. The professor was snoring loudly and lying haphazardly, his blankets not in place. In the other corner, the shrunken researcher was sleeping soundly with her body tucked into the thick covers of a traditional blanket. The relief flooded him, and he leaned forward, holding his hands tightly in front of him, closing his eyes to calm down. The dream—felt all too real. He sank back into the futon, desperately trying to fall asleep. His efforts proved futile, and he gave a heavy sigh.
A short time later, he found himself sitting on the porch. It overlooked the Zen Garden, which Yamato-san had meticulously maintained. The area was dimly illuminated by stone washi lanterns. A slowly burning flame emitted an orange glow that was hypnotizing. The night sky was clear, filled with stars, and the silver moonlight encircled the cherry blossoms and maple trees with a mysterious glow. Shinichi took in the sight, trying hard to forget the dream that had woken him up, or the messages on his phone about an ongoing mission that was still in progress.
It was rare for him to experience a nightmare. When he did, he was one of the very fortunate ones who could forget the contents of the dream. However, this was different. Placing his hands on his forehead, he heaves. Logically, he shouldn't be afraid. It was a lingering motion, a figment of imaginary events that should not happen.
It could happen, Kudou Shinichi. Some things are beyond your control.
The terror was intense, and he could still feel the cold sweat of fear soaked in his shirt. He could only grimace at the memory. Of scarlet blood staining everything it touches, of dead loved ones slipping away from him. He was unable to reach them.
He needs to calm down. Focusing on his insecurities will do him no good. The fresh air should help. Inhaling deeply, he looked into the sky.
Soft scuffling noises were heard —a kind of scratching sound—as if an animal was nearby or maybe. He paused, feeling a chill run along the spine.
The Isonade!
When Shinichi turned around, ready to tackle what was behind him, he was confronted by a bright glowing humanoid face that appeared from the darkness. He shrieked in surprise, falling backward, landing on his buttocks. Shinichi scrambled away, only to be met by the amused expression of a scientist with auburn hair. The torch that she carried illuminated her face.
"Haibara!" he exclaimed, a little peeved by what she had just done.
"Kudou," she smirks, "Did you wet your pants?"
"Anyone would react the same way if they were ambushed," he protested, a hand resting on his chest to calm his pounding heart. Chuckling, Haibara switched off the torch before settling beside him.
"What are you doing here?"
"It was cold, and I had to use the restroom," was her ambiguous reply.
"The restroom is in the opposite direction, Haibara."
"It's possible that I am not Haibara Ai but her doppelganger or something," she goaded him.
"Anyone would be scared if you appeared like that."
A little embarrassed by the rather unmanly shriek he had given before.
"So, why are you out here anyway? It's late."
Taking a few moments to consider her comment, Shinichi regards her thoughtfully. He noticed the small can of hot coffee in her hands. And a sly, bashful smile emerges from his lips.
"Were you perhaps worried?"
"No."
"Really?" He glanced at the can in her hands, and he leans forward.
"I appreciate it, Haibara," their shoulders touched ever so slightly. The heat from her body stirred something in him.
"Kudou, I was not—"
He silenced her with a contemplative look, and she avoided his gaze.
Though indignant, she stayed with him; her presence alleviated the unease he had felt earlier.
" So, what do you think happened to the weapon?" Haibara inquired later. The memory of the woman pulling out a stake-like object from her neck returns to his mind.
"She appears to be under the influence of drugs. The victim wouldn't have wandered around the area if she was in a clear state of mind."
"Drugged?"
"Probably. Even though there were shops in the area, she did not ask for assistance. Based on that, I can only assume that she was stabbed while under the influence of some type of intoxicant."
"Hmm…"
"But the inspectors could not find the weapon," Shinichi recalls the perplexed expressions on Satou and Takagi-san's faces. After searching the area for hours, Shinichi couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something. Despite the apparent answer looming before him, he could not fully grasp it.
"Perhaps it is similar to your weapon," Haibara observed, and he raised his eyebrows in response to the teasing glint in her eye.
"And what weapon would I utilize?"
"A scythe."
"For the umpteenth time," Shinichi protested, "I am not the grim reaper."
"Simply put, it is a phantom weapon, a weapon that disappears."
A missing tool? A weapon that has disappeared.
The passing comment made by the girl fits somehow.
"Would you mind repeating that?"
"A phantom weapon?"
"No, but something about a disappearing—"
He considered it. Some aspect of the case was missing, and he was grasping at thin speculations.
"Maybe Tawara-san was right. Maybe the Isonade did stab them in the neck after all."
"Haibara, I'm trying to be logical here," he groaned, the feeling he got when he was about to solve something dissipating.
Haibara gave a sly smile, "Ara and phantom weapons are?"
"I was referring to weapons that disappear!"
"What could be more logical than that?"
He spluttered before resigning himself to her statement. They sat in relative silence for a while as they listened to the crickets chirping. A night sky filled with stars filled the air with peace. Shinichi contemplates the case of Isonade, disappearing weapons, and the strange legends of the area.
"In any case," he continued, "we ought to be getting back to bed lest," he expressed to her with a playful smile. "We die by the hands of an Isonade."
He expected a response, a bitter laugh, but when it did not come, he glanced at her.
"That wouldn't be so bad, Kudou."
"Haibara?"
Shinichi regards her for a moment. Her face is obscured in the shadows, making it difficult to discern her features. The darkness encompassed them. He recalled his dream. The image of blood and bodies, of an auburn-haired girl lying deceased on the ground, disappearing into darkness, was unsettling.
"Nothing will happen, Haibara," Shinichi whispered softly. "I was joking."
Waiting for an answer, he felt an increasing sense of dread. His gaze was met with blank green eyes.
"No shit," she mocked, "Sherlock."
"Haibara…"
And the mystery deepens :D Thank you for the reviews.
I hope you enjoy this one too :D