File One Hundred and Fifty-Three: Dancing in the Darkness

"EH?! There's a child somewhere in here?!"

In the end it was Yamamura's voice that, echoing all over the forest and beyond, brought back the same question that, while once dormant deep within his own self, was probably old as time itself ─ or old as he was, the eight-year-old supposed.

About his own condition, this odd superpower he and his family had developed at some point, to bend reality and make what was simultaneously unlikely ─ borderline impossible ─ and extremely dangerous, automatically possible. And with 'possible' he meant that every breath he took ensured that either a murder case or a murderer was just seconds away from leaping up at him like a freaking Pokémon or something.

Certainly, it was not the first time Conan pondered about the contagious factor of this condition, and would definitely not be the last. Whatever that was, Mitsuhiko had unfortunately caught it ─ and it hit hard.

And not because he was lost in the forest with a serial killer roaming around. All things considered, that was still pretty much their normal thing. It was-

"Why didn't you keep a closer eye on him?! You brought them here, didn't you?!"

He may have bit back that sigh, but he couldn't deprive himself from one little glare ─ that this hack detective missed somehow. Which was fine, really, because Conan had completely missed something too. He had definitely missed the point of him being here at all.

I'm pretty sure even Mitsuhiko can hear him from wherever he is. Numabuchi too, but he wasn't willing to entertain that thought any longer.

Passing a hand to his face, Conan decided to tune Yamamura down for the time being. Probably forever, if he could help it.

"That idiot Mitsuhiko came here on his own," Genta said, scowling.

"And we asked all the people at the train stations if they saw him," Ayumi explained. "That's how we ended up here in Gunma."

"And we tracked him with the detective badge he has on." Ai crossed her arms in front of her chest and leveled him with an icy-cold, emotionless stare. "And that took us to this forest."

Yamamura blinked owlishly. "Track?" he echoed, unintelligently. Though Ai's look did not shift, her eyelids did slide down in response. "How?"

"With his tracking glasses!" Ayumi exclaimed in her stead.

"Whose tracking glasses?"

Two pointing fingers, one from Ayumi and another from Genta, served him as enough incentive to twirl around and find a little figure, silently but decidedly making his way further into the forest. He gasped and crossed the distance in two long strides.

For the second time today, Conan felt himself being plucked off the ground, and in came the passing thought that he should just plant a tracking device, maybe somewhere in that sadly legitimate police badge of his ─ so that it had an actual use, instead of being a mere accessory that proved nothing but the failings of this justice system. If only as a means to avoid breathing in the same air as him.

As he was deposited in the Professor's arms, roughly so, came the realization that it would be of no use. Unfortunately, the batteries in his glasses had died at some point.

"Now, kids! I want you to go somewhere else and play detective. Toys like that aren't dependable. You don't know for sure if your friend is here!"

You know which of these undependable toys do not require batteries? Conan's fingers twitched as they just lay there on top of his wristwatch. I'd rather fistfight Numabuchi Kiichiro all by myself. Seriously.

Agasa wordlessly plucked his hand off. Conan glared, but he didn't receive a response.

"Hey, Yamamura! What are you doing?!"

Yamamura winced. The boy raised an eyebrow, not tearing his gaze off him as he was lowered back from the Professor's hold.

Wasn't this guy promoted to Inspector? Even if he would forever be in denial about it. And somehow, this old man was screaming at his face regardless of his rank, so he was also an inspector, or was just as disappointed in the whole situation as Conan was and simply didn't care, which, fair.

"I know, but these kids…"

"Numabuchi got away because you took your eyes off him!"

So it was his fault that any of this even happened? Color me surprised.

Sighing, he turned back to his friends. "Let's pretend this guy doesn't exist and keep on searching."

They all agreed ─ every single one of them, without exception.

Being absolutely honest with herself, and despite every single little lie she had sprouted to convince Takagi that she had everything under control ─ or as controlled as it was possible, given the circumstances ─ Sato had been clueless about what to expect.

The scenario behind that one door, within the confines of a house whose lights were all out. Was she seconds away, she had wondered, from encountering Professor Agasa's cold rotten body as a welcoming treat, or threat, and Ai-chan missing off the face of the world like a certain little kid in the newspapers four years ago? Or would she be taking a bullet to her head the second she stepped in, unwittingly traumatizing Takagi for life?

What she had found instead, or rather who…

In a blink of an eye, that piercing blue grew dramatically, losing its sharp edges in the process, and in front of her was now a wide, but heavily layered, confused gaze that was incredibly familiar to her somehow.

"Detective Sato, are you alright?" Kudo Shinichi asked, pitching his voice in surprise. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sato took her time to blink and collect her thoughts.

"You've been missing for almost two years," she stated.

"Legally? No, I don't think so," he said with a shrug. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe we'd crossed paths once or twice, and I was pretty much alive. Unofficially, of course."

"But officially, you're supposed to be dead. At some point after that gruesome homicide case at Tropical Land."

Shinichi just stared back, a blank gaze she received with a frown.

"Why, but it's obvious, isn't it? That was the last case you've publicly solved." Renowned with confidence, she took a step further into the house, straining her eyes to find a reaction in the boy's face. "You, who used to be portrayed in the newspapers almost every other day in the week, suddenly decided to lie low, asking the police to keep your involvement in other cases a secret… And then, this."

Yet, she did not succeed ─ for a little while, that was. From a moment to the other, his smile had returned. At full strength, flawless as it had once been in the papers.

"Would you like some tea?" he offered all of a sudden, startling her. "Or maybe some co-?"

And then it was his turn, jumping slightly at a soft meow that came from nowhere. He didn't even need to look at the, she squinted, small kitten sitting at his feet and peering up at him expectantly.

But regardless, he tilted his head to one side, eyes slipping closed as he sighed heavily.

"Wasn't talking to you ─ I'm pretty sure I fed you, like, ten minutes ago." Another cry from the cat had the boy shaking his head. "Sorry, let me just… check if everything is okay with her food, I guess."

Again, Sato might have not known for certain how her night would go, but she had had her expectations. This had been nowhere close to it.

This being Kudo Shinichi crouching next to what she assumed to be a food bowl, somewhere at the corner of the room, and shaking his head after confirming that, indeed, it was full.

"Cats can't actually see in the dark, did you know that?" Sato blinked at Shinichi's unexpected input. "They do see better than humans, though."

"Oh…" She hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Do they now?"

Shinichi nodded. "They do. But this bowl has been properly filled for about ten minutes, yet Irene-chan here is begging for a refill."

The pitter-patter of little paws drew her attention to the newly identified 'Irene'. She stopped right in front of her bowl, her tail whipping gently from side to side as she waited patiently for the teenager to do something.

"It could be an instinct that leads her to mistakenly believe she might starve later if there isn't enough. Or maybe it's just harder to get the food that gets stuck in the corners…"

Leaning down, his gaze fell on the cat's bowl.

"Or she could've just convinced herself that the food is not fresh enough. We both know that's not true, but," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as if he didn't want to disturb the quietness of the night, "that doesn't stop her from believing so ─ from jumping to the wrong conclusions, despite her heightened senses. You'd think she'd be able to see through deception so easily, but…"

He gave the bowl a little shake, and even before he could take his hand away, Irene had leaped forward to dig in, happily.

Shinichi watched her for a while, and as though he had thought of a good joke, he snickered. "What a gullible little thing," he murmured.

Far from mirroring his expression, Sato's frown deepened. "Why do I sense some animosity in your words?"

"What? Don't be silly, she's just a kitten."

She didn't answer, but Shinichi did not expect her to. Instead, he rose back to his feet and stretched, leaving the feline to enjoy her meal in favor of approaching the coffee maker. Detective Sato might be much more interested in glaring from the doorway, but he sure wanted something himself ─ hell, he needed it. Or he would, in a not-too-distant future, most definitely.

"Please, do Detective Takagi a favor and let him in here, before he convinces himself that I've kidnapped you or something." Or should it be, 'do the Professor' a favor. For love was a force to reckon with, and the glass windows of his house certainly were nowhere as strong. "I just want to talk, that's all."

"The Black Organization ─ that's how you called it." He stopped dead in his tracks, his fingers barely grazing a mug. "I assume they were the ones after your life. How much do you know about them?"

"Not nearly enough," he admitted.

"That's still pretty impressive, I must say. Even for a young detective of your caliber," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I might know far too little about them, but I know they're… slick. Far too difficult to track."

"Well, you could say I've got the privilege of an insider's information."

Her eyebrows quirked up. "An insider?" she echoed.

Shinichi turned about fully. And in the silence that ensued, the female detective noticed that her breath had slipped away ─ her heart, too shy to even beat, stood still, waiting for the boy to lift his face.

Eventually, he did. A solemn expression clearly visible even through this darkness, and a gelid, icy blue gaze had her wondering why the temperature had seemed to, so suddenly, drop a few good degrees.

His smile was still perfect ─ untouched, even, on his lips.

"I, Kudo Shinichi, have been a part of the Black Organization since I was thirteen."

Perhaps it came with knowing there was a serial killer on the loose. Or maybe it was the way the daylight had died down for good, leaving room for the shadows to stretch over and morph in strange shapes that only the corner of his eye could perceive. Threatening but fleeting figures they were, fading the instant he turned his head. He didn't really know.

But for some reason, Conan could not get his heart to beat right, pounding heavily against his ribcage and freezing at every shuffle of the foliage surrounding them ─ probably the wildlife, he assumed. A random animal that was praying for this useless detective they were stuck with to leave before it had to take matters into its own hands ─ or paws. At this point, Conan wasn't sure whether to hope it didn't happen or actively wish for the contrary.

In his ears, however, there was that same old raspy breathing, mingling with his own as though they were one but carrying on when his stopped short. But it was nothing but imaginary, he told himself, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine that tried to imply otherwise.

Conan rubbed at his chest where once there had been an omamori-shaped bruise. They needed to hurry.

Not for the first time either, he noticed Ai. Walking alongside with him, twitching every few steps ─ hugging herself, rubbing at her arms as though she was freezing. His brow furrowed as he stretched his hand so that it could hover uncertainly over her quivering shoulder.

The creaking of leaves sent this entire world to a violent halt.

Conan twirled about, his eyes wide open as they sorted through the shadowed foliage, and what figures he could not see. With a bated breath, he took a tentative step closer, and could've sworn for the life of him that something had just moved.

"Mitsuhiko?" he called out.

Only the air hummed back, a melodious blend of the steady chirping of a cricket and the distant rustling of leaves. Nothing moved, nothing breathed ─ there was absolutely nothing out there but a deep, dead, disturbing quietness.

For a single beat of a heart that had forgotten its own existence, the boy just stared. At the next, he had taken another step forward.

"How long are you going to keep this up? That kid's probably already back home by now."

Instinct won over curiosity. Conan stopped in his tracks so that he could raise his eyebrows at Yamamura, or rather, his extremely brilliant collaboration to their cause.

"You kids go home," he told them. "When it gets dark, even someone who knows these woods like me could get lost-"

Then there was light. Ayumi and Genta gave him a look, motioning to the flashlights ebbed to their wristwatches to make their point clear. Yamamura stared back, shocked.

"Guys, don't shine that on him," Conan reminded them. "It's easier to pretend he's not here when you can't see him."

"Ah." Genta immediately clapped a hand over the light source. "Sorry."

Sighing, Conan rolled his eyes, and began to thread his way back to their group to watch, from far closer than he'd ever want to be, how Yamamura's features began to loosen up. The gears within his mind turned and turned, and before long, Conan was witness to how realization finally fell on him.

"Why…?" he tried to say around his drying mouth. Louder, he tried again, "Why didn't you tell my senpai back there?!"

"We told you already," Agasa argued, a hint of irritation in his voice. "You're the inspector, aren't you?"

"W-Well, yes, I am, but my senpai…" Yamamura rummaged through his pockets, until suddenly, he froze. "Damn it! I left my phone in the police car!"

Conan was sort of tempted to tell him that there would be no reception even if he did have one ─ had tried earlier, and it had been of no use. Thank God he'd already texted Ran that he might be staying at the Professor's tonight ─ but decided this was a problem he had to solve by himself.

By, apparently, dramatically falling onto his knees. Now, the boy was aware he was not the best example as to how one should deal with their troubles, but he had the nagging feeling that this wasn't it.

"I… I'm done for," he let out in a feeble whisper, filled with sorrow and a tinge of despair. "I let the prisoner escape during the investigation... I didn't tell my senpai that a child wandered into the woods… I'm going to be discharged, I know it."

There was a pause ─ either as a means to collect his thoughts, or he was waiting for anyone to speak up and contradict him. Funny, thought Conan, because he hadn't believed that this guy was capable of anything remotely similar to critical thinking. That, and nobody said anything at all ─ just watched him, in utter silence.

"I joined the police because I loved watching detective shows and I finally got to become a detective… Then I fought my way up to Inspector…" A sob cut through the stillness, tears gathering at his eyes that he decidedly fought not to free. "But maybe being a detective wasn't right for me."

Ayumi and Genta exchanged a look. Conan felt himself sigh again, and with a shake of his head, decided to approach the fallen form of this poor defeated man.

Finally, a tear slipped past his defenses, giving way to a rueful little smile.

"I guess..." he murmured, "I'm not cut out for this job."

"You're a truly impressive individual," a young, bubbly voice replied.

But Yamamura would not accept them, those kind words of his.

"It's fine." He turned his head away. "You don't have to cheer me up."

"Well, I mean, taking this long to figure that out takes some skill."

Yamamura's head raised back sharply to find a radiant, adorable grin, watching him from a few steps back. Before he could say anything, the boy had twirled about and begun marching further into the forest.

"Excuse me, but I kind of want to find my friend before school starts," he said, his voice growing fainter as the distance increased. Dimly, he noticed that there were more shapes, small and one large, meaning that his group had followed at some point. "In one piece, if possible. Thanks."

"But Conan," Genta said as he caught up with his friend. "Isn't that still two days away?"

"Exactly."

That was easier said than done, however. Beep after beep, Conan felt his heart sinking lower than he'd ever imagined it could ever be ─ clenching his detective badge, he realized how impossible it was to chase away those nefarious thoughts, growing stronger with each step they took.

They took the form of a small voice, whispering in his ear that, maybe, Mitsuhiko would never answer his calls. That even if they could find him, it would be face down in that same river Ayumi had tripped earlier, his body cold as the blood running through his veins.

Numabuchi Kiichiro, the serial killer that had, according to Yamamura, just recently added a victim to the already extensive list the police had accounted for ─ his mother, hidden somewhere in this creepy forest where, apparently, he had spent his most precious memories playing like a happy, innocent little murderer-to-be.

Huh, that's strangely fitting, come to think of it. Now, he kind of wondered if that poor mother had ever seen this coming.

"What a mess," Yamamura said at some point, throwing his head back. "We don't have a single clue. How can we find him even if I don't know where to start?"

"You don't have a single clue, you mean." From the corner of his eye, Conan noticed him turning his head in his direction. He lowered the badge with a sigh. "What, you thought we would just mess around and hope for the best? No, that's your job in life."

"What-"

"We have three clues," Ayumi interjected before her friend could. "A lemony smell…"

"The name of the generals…" Ai added.

"The sweets!" Genta exclaimed.

And that calendar, Conan thought, sneaking a swift glance over his shoulder. But again, found nothing but pitch black darkness. That's probably the most important piece of information we have, but…

He frowned. He'd have to keep his lips sealed.

Yamamura raised a single eyebrow. "Nothing you're saying makes any sense."

"Funny. Nothing you ever say usually makes any sense, either." He flashed him a radiant grin. "The lemon scent is a sure clue, though."

"Is it?"

"Lemongrass ─ or citronella. It's a common ingredient in insect repellent."

"I see. It's from the sunscreen he borrowed from his sister," Ai said, and at the quizzical stares she received, she clarified, "In some foreign countries, they sell bug spray that doubles as sunscreen. You see it all the time on TV."

Well, no ─ at least Conan did not. But he wasn't about to fight her on that and whatever television shows she liked to consume in her free time. Did she even have free time to begin with? That was sure something to ponder about later, after finding Mitsuhiko. Alive, hopefully.

Agasa's eyes widened. "So Mitsuhiko-kun applied the cream not to protect himself against the sun, but to keep the bugs away."

"Which means he meant to come here from the very beginning."

As everyone nodded in understanding and returned to the next stage of their exhaustive analysis, pleased by the progress, Conan could not help but phase out somehow ─ unable to keep reign of his ever wandering mind that, distracted by the ordinary calendar that kept on popping up at such random times, urged him to say something else despite knowing he could not.

I need to trust him, he reminded himself. Until everything is over…

"But I did see him last Sunday morning," her words echoed over, as if she was protesting despite her carefree smile. "At the bus stop when I was on my way back to the exercises."

Conan took a breath in. Four, six, two, six, he repeated, like a mantra, and exhaled. Four. Six. Two. Six.

Four-six-two-six. Foursixtwosix. Four-

Of course, just as he was just beginning to calm himself down, Ayumi had chosen that moment to scream ─ an ear-shattering, blood-curdling scream that, though surprisingly familiar at some point, never did it fail to drag his attention away from his musings and at whatever was causing this violent reaction.

Usually it was a corpse, a gruesome murder for him to figure out. So, when Conan noticed that she had lifted her little pale face, his stomach made a turn on itself, preparing himself from the worst.

Fortunately, he did not spot Mitsuhiko's cold dead body hanging from some branches over their heads. No, that wasn't even close ─ he found a rather slender, wild-eyed man crouched in his place, his face going even whiter than before at the realization that he had been spotted.

Oh. So they found the serial murderer that had almost killed him back in Osaka? That was nice.

Cue to Mitsuhiko finding their bodies hanging from the trees. Probably, Conan mused with a lazy blink. What a twist.

And… there he went. Leaping from tree to tree in a way that could instill a well-based feeling of inadequacy in any monkey that was to witness him. As if he wasn't the super dangerous serial killer that could probably finish them off with a swing of a knife ─ or any sharp object he could get his skinny hands around. Hell, even a branch could do the job if used well. Conan had seen enough in his life to pretend to be surprised, even if that was to happen.

"Damn it!" Genta scowled. "I'll get him!"

He didn't take it further than a single step. Conan put himself in his way and, with his hands stretched out, "One lost person is more than enough as it is," he said, huffing. "You don't know this forest as well as he does, and it's pitch black out there. Were you really thinking this through?"

"Not… exactly." It was not what he would call a wild guess to take. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, no harm done," Conan assured him with a little smile, that Genta reciprocated with a sheepish one of his own. "Okay. Now that's settled with… Professor?"

Agasa tilted his head. "Yes?"

"Look after everyone for me."

"Wha-" Genta spluttered.

But he accomplished nothing at all, for the boy had already darted away ─ vanished from his sight altogether before he could put together a proper sentence.

It wouldn't take long for Conan to lean heavily against the trunk of a tree to catch his breath, his throat burning from screaming so much.

He had tried to warn him, to draw him from wherever he was hiding and away from the way of the serial killer that freely roamed these woods. He had hoped to, at least, to get any semblance of a sign, that he could pick up this damn badge so that they could get out of this, together.

Yet, the forest around him was eerily silent. Conan's hand trembled as he wiped sweat from his brow and cursed under his breath. He had been sure ─ so certain that this was it, that he was on the right track and he'd finally get to see him, sane, warm and breathing, and leave this nightmare for once and for all.

As he kneeled down there, though, little fingers dipping further in the comfortable, cold embrace of crystalline water, he found his conviction flickering away like a weak little ember fighting in a downpour.

I had thought he'd be somewhere along this river. But he had been wrong ─ Mitsuhiko was not here. Wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Could he have… Already…

The face in the water looked up. A slightly winded, young little boy frowned, and so did he, unable to get rid of the impression that, somewhere beneath the surface, there was a hint of something more; a deep-seated terror, all but seeping the warmth out of him.

All the while, a hand emerged from darkness. It stretched over, tiny fingers reaching for his unprotected back. Slowly ─ quivering ─ but surely, closer and closer until they could almost graze-

Alerted by the snap of a branch, the boy jumped back onto his feet and spun around so quickly that he could've fallen back down from the momentum. But all he found was an older man, a few police officers tagging close behind, and a surprised expression etched on each of their faces.

Soon, he wouldn't see anything anymore. With a grunt, he covered his eyes, momentarily blinded by the light he was shining directly at him. The man apologized under his breath, lowering the flashlight to walk closer to him.

"What's this?" the man asked. "You're the kid that was talking to Yamamura a little while ago."

Conan nodded noncommittally, his attention drawn to the forest around. There was nobody out there, not a sign of life to be seen. Whether it was a good or bad thing, the boy would probably never figure it out.

"Didn't you leave this forest with Yamamura?"

He looked away immediately, leveling him with a look that would probably make one Haibara Ai proud.

"I clearly didn't," he said, watching him falter. Do they train them to be like this in Gunma? "I'm not leaving without my friend."

"What friend?"

"The one Detective Yamamura neglected telling you about?"

For the longest time, he just stared at him. Conan wondered if he should say something, or just back up and continue the search by himself.

"Ah, senpai!" Of course, Yamamura being Yamamura, he chose the best moment to make his appearance. "So here you are!"

And with him came the rest of the detective club that, judging by the glares that fixated on him the moment they met, probably weren't all that comfortable with his life decisions. He could sort of relate with that one, curiously enough.

In the end, Shinichi had resorted to stealing the Professor's bed light from his room, casting its very dim light on a napping cat that, now content with a full stomach, curled up on the corner of a couch. Although the soft glow of her phone's screen may have been much stronger, she was still much too grateful for that.

It was the best he could manage, he had told her. And glancing over at the curtains that he had drawn shut minutes ago, Sato felt that the answer was obvious enough not to need an explicit statement. Professor Agasa was not supposed to be home ─ if anyone were to learn about this in some way, any sign of life within that could potentially raise their eyebrows could mean a life sentence for him.

So, she did not complain. She merely thanked him as he set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her and typed the last few words of her message. That should do, she decided, and put it back.

"He's not coming?" Shinichi asked, barely even seen from behind the kitchen stand.

"We both agreed it's best to keep the influx of people coming in at a minimum. I'll fill him in later," she said, pausing to take a sip, before adding, "And I will be leaving through the backdoor to the garden."

"If you're coming out, that is," Shinichi said, shrugging. "Didn't I just tell you? You're drinking coffee with a criminal."

"We both know," she placed her cup back, smiling, "you've seen enough of this world to devise a better plan than just poisoning me, Kudo-kun."

"Well, Detective Takagi is outside, too. I suppose walking myself to prison would've been subtler."

She agreed, and they left it at that. Shinichi had, at some point, walked a little closer to the light ─ what a young face she observed, he was just a teenager, and yet… Granted, if she looked closely, she could recognize that he had grown some in those two years he had gone missing from the media.

Thirteen, it echoed as her mind drifted back to those newspapers, that one case of child trafficking he had solved all on his own, back when he had just turned fourteen.

His cocky smirk had been there alright. But now that she knew, she could see better ─ how forced, how fake. Understandable, since that should have happened only months away from his little brother's death.

Months after he, as a young middle school student, had joined the same people that now wanted him gone from this world.

Connecting the dots was not hard at all.

"Revenge," she muttered, drawing his attention away from the coffee and to her face. "That was why you joined then, wasn't it? You wanted to avenge your little brother."

For less than a second, that certainty in her words stole the breath out of him, caused him to fall silent at that gaze that brimmed in the darkness with the confidence of a perfect deduction ─ the kind he was absolutely no stranger to, one that he'd gladly receive with an amused smirk of his own and a response ready on his lips.

His grip on the mug tightened, and a glimpse inside reflected a sunny, adorable grin back to him. Such a precious little thing, but terribly fragile ─ gone with the faintest of breaths, the lightest of twitches of a hand that could not hold on to it strongly enough.

Ripples never came back. No, instead, they left behind those soulless eyes Shinichi wished he could not recognize. With that light of cheerful innocence obliterated from existence came that hollow stare of his, peering from over oversized glasses as he welcomed him to America back when he had crossed the world to visit his family ─ to visit him. His one and little brother he adored above anything else.

A part of Shinichi had wondered where he had wandered to. It never once stopped wishing for the impossible, hoping against hope that maybe one day he'd be back. For he was still there, that it was a matter of time.

It was one cold Christmas that he'd picked up the phone and he had gifted him with that one word that used to fill him with the courage he needed to keep on going forward ─ to keep on dreaming.

Shinichi never figured out what it was, what switch had been flipped and changed everything from one moment to the other. But the months passed by, and suddenly, that snarky, closed-off, arrogant runt of a six-year-old had gotten himself some friends. The healthy rosy color of his cheeks was proof that the nightmares that had tortured him for so long had taken a backseat, and those cheeky little smiles, ever so slowly, became more frequent. He was starting to smile more. More and more often.

And then, he'd been able to see Conan again; he'd looked at him in his eyes, and finally breathed out in relief to see light. To see that he was finally back.

Yet, the shadows were insistent ─ they clung to him, tried to pull him back to wherever he had sunk into. Shinichi had held on with all his might, drawing all the strength he truly did not have to prevent him from disappearing again. And honestly, he had thought he was winning.

All it had taken him was a mistake. A piece of paper, and then there they were again; those shadows, clouding those bright blue eyes he had strived to get back.

Shinichi shrugged. "That's one way to say it," he replied.

"Why tell me all of this?" she asked, her confusion almost palpable. "So suddenly, at that…"

"Conan is… not in a great place right now." He closed his eyes and deflated with a sigh. "As you may already be aware, he gets really uncomfortable talking about this."

And really, that was about it. Only that he wished that he could do more, undo all the harm he had done, if that was possible.

If only he could go back in time and stop himself from ever asking Ai-chan to run that stupid test ─ stopping himself from destroying what he had meant to mend.

"More like scared," Sato paused, considering her next words. "Say, is Conan-kun… This Conan-kun, I mean, not…"

"Why'd you ask?"

"I don't know, it's just that, looking at you… I get the same feeling I get from him sometimes."

He looked back up at her furrowed brow. But she shook her head, aiding to his great and growing confusion. "Nevermind," she said. "Forget I said anything."

Not like he had much choice in that regard, so he left it at that. There were fairly more pressing matters he wanted to get to, and while the night was still young, he didn't want to test Takagi's nerves any further.

It wasn't like he was known to be an impatient man, but some criminals were known to steal their victims' phones to instill a fake semblance of reassurance in their loved ones. And the Professor appreciated his windows a little too much for risking it.

"You seem awfully certain." Shinichi's eyes narrowed. "About Kudo Conan and Edogawa Conan being different people, despite what common sense would imply."

Sato fell thoughtfully silent. He knew he could not do the same, he had to press forward. Just this one time.

"In exchange for my statement, would you satiate my curiosity?" was his only request. "I'd like to know what you did to verify this information, if you don't mind."

At last, there was a clue.

Found by Ai just a few meters from where he'd last searched, forgotten somewhere close to the river, lay a Tokyo Spirits cap ─ one of Mitsuhiko's most beloved possessions, if Conan remembered correctly, proved his theory right. He had been there, right where he had searched for him.

Alas, he had been too late. The fact that it was still here meant that Mitsuhiko did not have the opportunity to pick it back up. And Conan could not think of a better reason to neglect doing so than being chased by a serial killer that, incidentally, lurked around.

That being said, Conan perked up as Ai passed it to him, it felt strangely warm against his fingertips, damp even, from the perspiration that did not have the chance to dry out yet. So, maybe… Conan clutched the hat further to his chest. Maybe we have a chance.

He couldn't have gotten far. If I hurry, I might...

"Don't even think about it."

He hadn't even taken a single step in any direction, yet there was her. Her, and that one half-lidded stare that sometimes made him wonder if all those scientific experiments at the Professor's basement were less immortality-oriented, and had more to do with the undiscovered wonders of mind reading.

"We've got enough with Tsuburaya-kun as it is," she whispered, more like hissed, at him. "Getting yourself killed won't help him."

"Standing around is no good either." Conan furrowed his brows. "Numabuchi Kiichiro-"

"-could easily slice you in half before you could ever realize he was there to begin with." Her interruption shocked him into silence, a halt in his thinking process that she took advantage of to get an iron grip on his forearm. "Just this once, listen to me. The moment he catches a glimpse of you, you'll be dead. He's extremely agile, like a wild animal. He-"

"I know-"

"You don't."

His gaze strayed away on its own, catching on the silvery glow of a dolphin pendant on her wrist. Her fingers digging in like hooks processed quicker than the whitening of his own skin underneath, or the faint trembling of her limbs.

Blinking in confusion, he lifted his head back up, and there he found those narrowed, troubled teal-colored eyes of hers ─ those that he had grown familiar with over these years enough to instill that one cold, chilly feeling deep within his very soul.

The frown did not take long to appear, and with the subsequent opening of his mouth, Ai knew what his next question would look like.

Strangely enough, it clicked shut without making a single sound. His eyes swept his surroundings in a quick scan ─ too quickly to be natural, or even intentional, she'd say, judging by how he trained his gaze back onto the tip of his feet, as though an attempt to keep his instincts at bay.

"You've been acting strange," she ventured, keeping a mind to tone her volume down. "Did Tsuburaya-kun… really run away from his home?"

Conan glanced back at her, his expression ever blank canvas she could not make head and tails of, and for a couple of seconds, he did nothing at all. Eventually, he broke into that one blindly sparkling grin of his that, truth to be told, was even more mystifying than anything else he could've done.

When he raised a finger to his lips and shushed her, Ai didn't truly know what to think.

"Don't ruin it for him!" he told her. It didn't escape her he was speaking a bit louder than before, or that his hand had found hers ─ squeezing, in a way she couldn't remember him doing before. "He's been working so hard to plan this ─ all the way since Sunday, at the earliest, like that florist girl said."

Prying himself free from her grip, his fingers found their way to her palm ─ and if anyone saw a playful thumb tracing random figures onto her skin, it was nobody else's business than their own.

With each trace, Ai's eyes grew just a little bigger. By the time he released it, she genuinely thought that she had forgotten how one was supposed to breathe. She rubbed at her face, and covered everything with a wide yawn that had his friend forcing out a very convincing giggle.

"So don't ruin it for him, alright?" he winked at her. "When we find him, let's just play along."

A chilly breeze brushed past her cheeks, and suddenly, she felt like she was freezing. But she had to shrug it off, tucking a strand of hair, that had slid out of place as she nodded her head, behind her ear.

"For his sake?" she whispered.

"For his sake," Conan confirmed.

"Shh!"

Startled, both children spun around to see who had produced such a sound, and in return, they were silenced again before they could even do anything ─ let alone disrupt the silence against their friends' wishes. Exchanging equally puzzled glances, they moved slightly closer to the group they'd gradually wandered away from.

Ayumi and Genta did not even turn their direction, their eyes fixated in the darkness ahead.

"Don't you hear that?" Genta murmured. "That sounds like a detective badge."

Eyes peeled for any sign of movement out there, Conan froze in his spot at the realization that they were right. Faint at first, that particular, familiar beeping noise rose to a crescendo, giving way to a shadowed silhouette in the distance.

With every step it gave, the hopeful smiles on his friends' faces dropped just a little. A slender figure it was, growing taller and taller until, eventually, Mitsuhiko's face finally made itself known ─ a sickly pale one that was, sweating bullets as his gaze flickered from friend to friend, his mouth open as if he was trying to utter something, in the feeble whisper of a voice that had long lost its strength.

His attempts proved to be in vain, for Ayumi drowned everything in a terrified scream.

The arms wrapped around the boy's torso involuntarily tightened their grip. Startled, Numabuchi Kiichiro jumped back, as though he was but a helpless little kid faced by a recently escaped serial murderer. Later, Conan would come back to analyze and wonder if, maybe, it could be possible for Ayumi to weaponize her ear-piercing vocal range for self-defense reasons.

But for now, he'd focus on the light ─ on the flashlights that, in a blink of an eye, were aimed at him exclusively. Now that he was stripped out from the protective cloak that darkness had draped over him, and therefore devoid of any possible way of escaping the police force that crowded around him, Conan fully expected any kind of reaction. From irritation and anger, or maybe a newfound sense of repentance for his sins that only now remembered its own existence.

What he did not see coming was the smile. A pleasant one that would have fooled anyone that he was a high functioning member of society.

"Turn all those lights off," he said, a hint of something that almost made him sound… human. "They are going to scare off."

Carefully, he set Mitsuhiko back onto the ground, who understandably, scurried away from his grasp as quickly as he could. Genta reacted first and rushed up to meet him, followed closely by a teary-eyed Ayumi.

"Mitsuhiko! Are you okay?!"

"Geez, we were so worried!"

Even though he watched him closely, Conan never did see a change in his expression, no matter how subtle. The palms of his hands remained firmly pressed to one another, his mouth only opening to mutter the softest of apologies.

And Conan had to force himself not to wince ─ his voice really did sound awful. Mitsuhiko, you… Biting his lip, he struggled not to wonder how long he'd been there, crying for the help that would not come for long enough to lose his voice.

All alone. Dodging the shadows and begging for a miracle that would save him… That someone would notice that-

"What's the matter with your hands? You're hurt or something?"

"W-Wait!"

Yet, his weak protests fell into deaf ears. Against his wishes, Genta had reached for him to pull from his wrists, and like so, it slipped past Mitsuhiko's fingers ─ the tiniest spark his eyes had ever seen, spiraling upwards towards the night sky above their heads.

Somehow, Conan found the strength to smirk.

"Genji and Heke," he said, earning a generalized, puzzled look from his group.

Not including Ai, of course, currently too busy watching as Numabuchi was taken away, a hand pressed to her chest.

"Remember what the florist girl said? Uesugi and Takeda, or Toyotomi and Tokugawa ─ they're all rival generals. Like Genji and Heke." He shrugged. "You were asking them that, those conservationists, weren't you? Not the generals, of course. I mean the Genji fireflies and Heke fireflies."

After a brief moment of contemplation, Ai nodded. "I see," she said. "They got angry at you because you asked about this so insistently. After working all the hard work they put into cleaning it, a bunch of children trampling around were the last thing they needed."

"So he followed them, all the way here."

Mitsuhiko did neither confirm nor deny their claims. Just avoided their gaze, leaving Conan to pretend to be oblivious to that.

Oblivious to everything around them ─ of the eyes that, from the shadows-

"What about the sweets?" Ayumi questioned.

As though his mind had never wandered away, Conan smiled brightly ─ and if the girl stepped backwards, as though she was startled about something, then it was nobody's business than her own and, certainly, not his.

"That'd be sasadango," he explained. "He'd moisten the sasa leaves and spread them out in a bug container to make a firefly holder."

And thus, the story fit perfectly ─ a little too perfectly. A young boy setting off to the mountains to catch some fireflies, but only making it to one before realizing he'd lost his way. Stubborn not to let it get away, he'd refuse to use his hands even though salvation was so close, a mere click of his detective badge away.

To anyone else's eyes, it was but a logical conclusion to take, a flawless deduction that left no question behind. It made perfect sense.

That being said…

"He did all of this to surprise them," Conan said, motioning to where the two female members of their club stood, listening attentively to his every word. "If I remember correctly, Ayumi-chan and Ai mentioned it."

He tried not to stare at the bag hanging from Mitsuhiko's back, covered in a thick layer of dirt that made it difficult to imagine what its original coloration had been. It was even harder not to point out how small, how empty it looked to his own eyes.

That there was no way a bug container would fit in.

"Back when we were watching the fireworks, in that Edogawa festival we attended," he said, smirking. "They said they'd like to see the fireflies at least once in their lives."

Ayumi's head snapped up, and for a moment, Conan could be sure he could see the memories flashing behind her eyes.

"You meant that he…" she whispered, taken aback.

Ai took her time to close her eyes and breathe out. When she opened them back up, there was a smile blossoming on her lips.

"Thank you," she told him.

Ayumi mirrored her expression, though in her case, it was infused with a lot more energy. "It was beautiful!" she praised, nodding vehemently.

Mitsuhiko refused to make a sound, let alone lift his chin to acknowledge them. Noticing this, Ayumi tilted her head in confusion.

But then, he felt his vision going dark as something pressed itself on top of his head. He looked up in confusion, and was surprised to see the hat he'd lost was all the way back to his head.

"You did well, Mitsuhiko." That was Conan, he realized, his fingers still holding lightly on the brim of his hat. "So now that we found you, sit down, please, and relax."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, Conan saw something sparkling back into life in his eyes.

"You made it just in time for the show." He winked. "A summer spectacle not seen in the city."

And as if he'd timed it just right, it happened. It was timid at first, a tiny flash that died down before anybody could even notice it, but then came another, and then another. Until eventually, they were everywhere their bewildered, young and impressionable eyes could see, dancing around them like twinkling little stars that had descended from the skies to play.

On and off they blinked, in a mesmerized pattern that almost seemed orchestrated, the gentle glow of hundreds of fireflies taking over where the impenetrable darkness once reigned over. Despite everything, it brought forward a timid, but genuine, smile in Mitsuhiko's afflicted features ─ and in Conan's too in turn, relieved beyond belief.

"But why did Numabuchi…" Agasa wondered. "He knew he'd be caught, so why'd he bring Mitsuhiko to us?"

"Probably he saw himself. In that unaware, innocent kid he stumbled upon by accident," Conan said. "After seeing that Mitsuhiko had his hands full, he probably figured out what he was doing here."

He cast a look over his shoulder, past the surprised police officers that had stopped in their tracks, their breath taken away, and to the face of that serial murderer that could've put an end to his short tumultuous life in a jiffy.

Only to find that he was not there.

"He probably lied about burying the fourth victim here," Conan said. "He probably wanted to see them one more time before being executed."

In its place was that one kid whose twinkling eyes had seen nothing but cheer and wonder, his handcuffed hands clean of the blood he'd once spilled. What blessed days they must have been, back when everything was simpler and, just, right.

"To see them, the old friends he used to play with. Here, when he was a child."

As the fireflies continued to wander back and forth, entrancing every gaze that might fall on them, hers drifted away ─ instead caught in that smile, that one smile, that made her purse her lips. For it seemed that she was not the only one whose attention was drawn to something else, and in his case, she was willing to bet it had to be a distant memory of some kind.

All around him, the fireflies danced. So different, but incredibly similar all at the same time. Back then, the cherry blossoms had been dazzlingly beautiful as well.

We've been there, too, haven't we? Blissfully unaware of what the future held for us…

Or the darker truths the world had been hiding for us both.

Something tugged at his lips, but Conan was nothing but resilient.

Where did those days go, I wonder?

Ai could only wonder. Standing there close to him, yet so far away ─ her gaze cast to her feet, her fingers unconsciously weaved into her bracelet, and stilled in contemplation. She took a deep breath before turning to look at him again, her mouth open.

But her words never lived long to meet the world ─ a world that convulsed to a violent stop. Her hand found his shoulder without searching for it, clasping around his shirt as though it would prevent the warmth from leeching away from her. Yet, by the time her eyes met Conan's concerned, slightly frightened ones, it had been all gone, leaving nothing behind but that one certain sense of dread she had come to know as an old friend.

Before anything could be said or done, a choking noise pierced through the stillness, and following it they found Numabuchi, hunched over his stomach, horror painted in every inch of his face.

"H-Hey…" Yamamura's senpai called, inching a tentative hand towards him. "Are you-?"

Numabuchi did not answer. Instead, he dived face first into the mud and did not move another finger.

Ever again.

But something did.

In the midst of the silence, the fireflies continued dancing in the darkness as though nothing had happened at all ─ their glower far too weak to reach. For somewhere in the distance, somewhere among those trees, Conan could've sworn he had seen something.

With a muffled thud, it fell back on the ground, and with the shuffling of leaves he knew it was scurrying away.

Yet the shadows were a force to reckon with, and extremely protective of the secrets it jealously guarded deep within. In the next blink of an eye it had blended over into nothingness, and with it Conan feared, took away their only chance of figuring out what had just happened.