File One Hundred and Fifty-Five: The Mask Beneath the Mask
Furuya Rei was a man of many, many faces, counted with far more fingers than the amount of people who knew of them. What was his real one, which was the mask he had to take off to uncover it, he did not know himself nor had he wondered about it for a long time. For he was a man who lived for his goals, first and foremost, and this country he loved so dearly.
Everything else was secondary.
From time to time, he could still hear him, however; screams muffled by a metal door that would forever be engraved in his mind. Which, curiously enough, he could consider a respite by itself as opposed to the silence ─ the skin cold enough to burn itself into his memories, him pressing a finger to a wrist to realize that this pale, pale face of his would never manage a cheeky smirk ever again.
But then again, they all were but trivialities in the grand scheme of things.
"Something in your mind?"
In such a grand scheme of things, it was undeniable how important the woman in front of him was. Burgundy red lips were drawing a kind of smile that would steal the breath away from any other soul in close vicinity, figuratively and literally ─ there were so very few that were aware that her beauty was only rivaled by her danger level, and that infatuation could prove fatal .
That was who Vermouth was.
"Nothing but the flavor of finely aged red." Bourbon smiled as well as he tipped his glass closer to his lips, but not quite touching. "Port, 1998 vintage."
She let out an amused snicker. "That would be 1996."
"Oh, I was close, wasn't I?"
"It depends," she said. "But for those who have lived long lives, two years is nothing but a blink of an eye."
His own lips drew a smirk, and gently let the glass sit back on the table.
Darkened skies awaited him as he set his gaze back on the glass window, stretching far and beyond. The city was lively, busy with little lights twinkling like stars, going on with their lives without knowing if the future that awaited them was a prosperous one, or would be stripped away from them in the blink of an eye. For he knew, probably better than anyone else, how easy it would be to, just, lose it all.
A timed bomb, a misplaced sense of justice, or even an utterly mundane traffic accident. Every little mistake, every misunderstanding, could lead you to commit the unthinkable, even make you pull the trigger and lose your chance to understand what you did wrong.
And sometimes… Sometimes, you just did nothing at all. You just end up screaming your lungs out in a prayer for a miracle, or for the poison to incinerate your pain sensors for once and be put out of your misery.
"I supposed there should be plenty to think about, in your case," Bourbon said, a pleasant tone in his voice. "Living with a child sounds tedious."
"He is easy to live with, this lovely nephew of mine. It is as if he is not there, to begin with." A giggle pushed past her lips. "Plain and unassuming at first glance, but inquisitive and terribly observant. "
"Observant?"
"Just like every other child we know. He hasn't been asking for my help lately, so I'm assuming he's learned from me just by watching."
For the first time in the night, Bourbon frowned. "He's onto something," he said.
"When isn't he?" she replied, reaching for her glass.
"You mentioned he simply decided he was living with you one day, didn't you?" he pressed further. "Did he explain his reasoning?"
Vermouth took her time inspecting her wine, before responding, "Not a single word."
If anything, that uncertainty alone made his stomach turn unpleasantly. Without fully meaning to, the image of a tombstone flashed in his mind, a lone toothpick placed on top of it. He thought of the couple whose eyes he had barely avoided ─ the woman he had once encountered in Matsuda's grave and the man who had been a brother to Date.
And then, there was that bespectacled little detective. Smiling, dazzlingly bright, at the boy with him ─ the boy with the raven-black hair and eyes as dark as the secrets he held within his heart. Off they both had gone, and Rei simply watched them go.
Swirling and swirling, his sins tinted in a deep red. Just like the wine glass in Vermouth's slender, manicured fingers, swirling, drowning, sinking. Just like a dead body.
Drumming against his fingers, Rei still could feel the faintest of pulses. He rubbed them against the glass, focusing on the chilly feeling that worked wonders in grounding him to reality.
"Doesn't it worry you from time to time?" Bourbon ventured, his eyes narrowed on this red-tinted reflection in the glass. "That Generic may have found out about what we did."
Vermouth went surprisingly quiet for a second, before her smirk found her again.
"He is just a little kid who likes to play around and have fun."
Their conversation died down shortly afterwards, lulled into silence by the constant murmur of Rei's thoughts. And by morning, when he had finally been allowed to get back home for a short nap before he had to get back on his feet again, none of those questions had been answered. Everything he could think back was of tombstones, the afflicted expression of a young teenage detective, and the laughter of a child as he conversed with his friend.
Haro wound up waking him up about two minutes before the alarm went off, licking and nuzzling as if he wanted to play, and after that, his day began as his usual routine dictated. Feed the dog, make breakfast as Kazami updated him on the most recent developments over the phone, hope that Vermouth hadn't scheduled yet another meeting he absolutely had to attend.
And after everything was set back on track, he put on Amuro Tooru's pleasant smile, and set off for another shift at Poirot. Because that was his role to play, that of a friendly and efficient waiter that loved his work as much as exciting little mysteries, and had no concerns about his simple, peaceful life whatsoever.
But of course, there was a certain someone who had to come and ruin that plan. A young boy, who was in reality as terrifying as short, distractedly made his way inside the café, his gaze distant and full of thoughts. Even if Amuro had no reason to, Rei supposed he could relate to that.
So, he didn't see any harm in approaching and engaging in casual conversation. The boy had been late for his meeting with Ran and company, currently chatting amongst one another at a table since a few hours ago, and while not extremely important, Amuro had felt that twinge of harmless curiosity that came with his profession as a detective.
Conan hadn't been too possessive of his secrets, telling him he was hanging out in a library, of all places, but he did feel a bit reluctant to tell who he had been with. And at first, having spotted the not-too-subtle hints of a kid's endearing first crush at the mention of one specific girl, he had thought he had found the reason.
"N-No, not her," he had admitted then, however. "It was… someone else."
As the kid seemed to have clammed up, Amuro decided that it would be best to free him from further senseless questioning. But then, for some reason, the boy had decided he did not want that ─ he had stopped him, even. And before he could prepare himself for it, he had forced direct eye-contact, had hesitated , before he could murmur those words.
The words Rei least expected to hear.
"Do you happen to know of an organization operative named Generic?"
If one were to go about it normally, there was no way Furuya Rei had not reacted to it. Were he a few years younger, inexperienced and fresh out of the academy, it would have been possible for him to halt, struggling to stare in disbelief and balance the tray of sandwiches in his hand. And by the time it inevitably fell onto the floor, Rei could be sure, the boy's eyes would have already taken that predatory glint ─ piercing through his form as though a bird of prey hunting for its next meal.
Instead of any of that, however, all he had to do was pick yet another of all of those masks in his arsenal. Like so, Amuro Tooru smiled.
"Quite the wild guess," he said. Conan blinked, showing his confusion. "Of every codename you could have thought of, it's generic alcohol ─ a cheap and generic, unspecified brand…"
The boy stared for a while, and just as he was starting to consider that his acting had not been on point, he lowered his head. "I'm not guessing, " he stressed out, and it didn't escape Rei that he was deliberately avoiding his gaze. "It's just that…"
Without giving him a second to prepare himself, a flash of teal crossed the little detective's mind. The memories of that morning that felt like days ago came crashing down on him, and even though he knew he was not there anymore, his hands were still trembling ─ reacting to the mere image of that exhausted, troubled gaze of hers that worked just as a terrible spoiler for the news she was about to let him in about.
News that, predictably, could not be any good.
"There's no doubt about it. An Organization member did it."
She hadn't even greeted him properly ─ so no 'good morning' today, huh? Conan supposed that was pretty much clear as it was, from the moment he saw Ai surfacing from her lab as though she had not slept a wink for an entire month.
Conan regarded her for a moment, then shifted his attention to his coffee mug. He'd definitely need that today.
Never the one to hide her overflowing annoyance, the girl narrowed his eyes at him. "I was counting on you being a little more surprised," she said. He took a deep sip. "So you did know."
"More like, I suspected it," the boy replied, setting his mug back with a weary sigh. "Numabuchi Kiichiro was part of them, wasn't he?" He didn't miss her stiffening by the corner of his eye. "You seemed to know a lot about him, so I just assumed you knew him personally. Him being a member of the Black Organization would explain pretty much everything."
Ai stayed quiet, and for a while, Conan thought she wasn't going to say anything else. But then, she deflated in a single breath, closing her eyes as though giving up ─ against what, the boy had absolutely no way of knowing.
"I didn't know him personally," she admitted. Conan perked up, curious. "They sent me his file, complete with photos and personal data."
It took a little while for it to click, and in the meantime, Ai held his look with that sort of indifference that was more telling than anything else. His face fell when it finally did, and once then, the girl looked away, a bitter smile drawn on her lips as she crossed the distance between them both.
"They hired him because he was agile. I think they intended to train him to become one of their hit men." Only her voice remained as she disappeared somewhere behind the counter, and not even stretching his neck improved the situation at any rate. "But he turned out to be useless, so they were going to send him to me so I could use him as a guinea pig to test my potions."
His mouth opened uselessly, only remembering he had a voice of his own when it was too late. "So did he…" Conan hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Did he escape?"
The scratching of a stool against the floor later, her head was surfacing back into his view, and her raised eyebrows worked as an answer he had definitely not been asking for. Yeah, stupid question, he knew that. Onto the next topic, please.
"He was alive when you saw him, wasn't he?" she pressed on, regardless. Conan rubbed his chest unconsciously, mentally reminding him that, yeah, he was. Or had been, at any rate, pretty much alive. "Had I tested it on him and he survived, do you think they'd have used it to execute Shinichi-san afterwards?"
If she was stressing it out like that, then the answer should have been already obvious as it was. His brother surviving it had been but an odd strike of massive good luck that came to even out that terrible fortune that had been following him ever since he could probably remember. While Conan, to this day, still trembled lightly at the memory of himself waiting for him at home for hours to an end that one night, he didn't even want to imagine what could've happened.
Not that he knew how it even worked out, to begin with. In Ai's case, she had to be rescued by his older brother, if his memory served him correctly ─ even if he had survived the poison, there was no way that he could have escaped them while they were trying to get rid of his body.
Shinichi himself had admitted not having a clue, and honestly? Conan didn't think he cared enough for the details. He was alive, and that was all that mattered to him.
"He escaped, but in a way, he never really did," Ai said, quietly. "He ran, and kept running from their influence, afraid that they'd catch up to him. In fact, he killed three people because he thought they were from the organization and they were after him."
"That does explain a lot," Conan muttered, passing her an extra mug that he had prepared. "I saw it on the news once. When he was arrested, he wouldn't stop yelling at the camera 'it's their fault'."
"Yes, but no one believed him… And before long…"
"They came back for him," the boy finished, her silence far more telling than any words could. "If they investigated him thoroughly, they must have figured out that he used to play with fireflies in his childhood ─ and pushed them into doing this, all without knowing."
Ai's eyes flickered downwards, but other than that, she did not react. Conan frowned in her stead.
"Vermouth is the only one who could've come into contact with him, perhaps infiltrated within the police to talk ─ or rather, manipulate him." She instinctively flinched at the sound of that one name, but he forced himself to ignore it. "But the person who killed Numabuchi… The one who cornered Mitsuhiko… It was definitely a kid about our age."
Ai's head lowered even further, her grip around the mug tightening.
"Ai," he pressed, wondering if he would find something in her eyes if she only allowed him to search. "You know who that person is, don't you?"
Her shoulders trembled as she let one shaky breath out and regarded her coffee for a moment longer.
"I… was hoping I was wrong," she finally admitted, throwing one glance over her shoulder and stilling. "But I guess I was just relentlessly denying reality, like you usually do."
Conan could not, for the life of him, figure out if it was her counting her time, her not wanting the Professor or any of their friends stumbling into this conversation. Or maybe she was eyeing the door leading to the basement, where the secrets she had unknowingly uncovered roamed free like lost souls seeking vengeance.
"Were you ever told how Irish managed to kidnap you?" Conan stiffened up, not quite expecting this to come up. "Shinichi-san brought your shoes to me, and that's where I found them ─ traces of a strange drug I've never seen before."
He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "That… makes sense, I guess."
"Not even two years had passed since I left the Organization, the possibility of a new hire leading the drug development team was slim," she said. "Such a complex formula, on top of that…. There are only a select number of people I know of who could've perfected it."
"But you didn't think much of it. Until…"
Conan trailed down, silenced by the memory of a shadowy figure scattering into the darkness, and as Ai nodded her head ever so calmly, Numabuchi dropped as though she had sliced the strings that kept him upright. Exactly like a puppet who had no other choice but to stop breathing at its master's whim.
"The poison that killed Numabuchi, you may never have seen a thing like it. But I have." She raised her head, and finally, she let him see the chaos he could not make sense of, even if he tried. "That was… Generic's prototype of the APTX-4869."
He didn't even notice his breath cutting short until she smirked, a stiff grimace that barely resembled what it was meant to be. "Before you ask, no, Generic is not his actual assigned name ─ but I wouldn't be surprised if that's what he got, in case he was actually promoted after I left," she said, with a shrug. "It's the name most children used for him. We weren't supposed to know each other's names."
That… what quite a lot to unpack. Conan sat back, his gaze fixated on the distance as he tried, and failed, to put all those thoughts back in order. "Generic," he murmured, as if tasting the word ─ bitter in his tongue, even more so than the black coffee he adored so much, acrid as though a week-old cheesecake left out in the sun. "Why did they call him that?"
"Because he's… generic. Spineless, irrelevant. Older children used to pick on him a lot."
Conan felt his blood running cold, his heartbeat accelerating as if counting the seconds before he set off looking for him ─ for her, the trembling girl who had worked alongside this person for so long, and that no doubt, whose face he had seen a plenty of times. And considering he had gotten to Mitsuhiko first, it was likely that he had already spotted her.
For now, Generic was still playing with them ─ like a cat toying with a moribund rat, watching in glee as he fought desperately for the life it wasn't going to keep. Once he grew bored, no doubt, it would be game over for them.
Right now, they were all running in borrowed time ─ he needed to find him urgently. If only he knew where to search, however…
"I don't have a clue of what you're thinking about, but try not to get yourself killed." Ai said, drawing his attention back to those teal-colored eyes, glistening with tears that came with nights without sleep. "Don't ever forget, he's generic ─ broad, versatile, adaptable. And like a generic brand that is not tied to any specific type or flavor…"
Conan's lips pursed together, a frown crawling up into his features as he peered up at Rei.
"He could already have blended into the background, and could be watching you from much closer than you could ever imagine."
"A lot happened," was what Conan settled with. "That's all."
He left it at that, smiling sheepishly when Ran turned for a second time to give him an exasperated look. With a quiet apology in his lips, he made his way over, unable to shake off the feeling of being under intense scrutiny ─ not exactly exclusively coming from one end. Boy, did he wish that had been the case.
"Hey there, Conan-kun." Sera's grin was broad and inviting, which ironically, almost had the opposite effect. "Wanna join our band?"
But he had kept Ran on waiting for long enough to suspect that she would not be happy with him leaving after all. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you," he muttered, climbing up onto the only free chair, right next to Ran.
Unfortunately, that also meant being close to the grinning menace known as Sera Masumi. "We still need someone for the vocals-"
Ran tried to conceal a wince with an awkward laugh, but well, at least she had tried to be nice. That was much more admirable than Sonoko, whose eyes tore apart from Azusa ─ she was sweating already, who knows how long had Sonoko been bullying her into accepting the poor girl ─ to cringe.
"I'm not a good singer," Conan admitted under his breath, looking away. "Why don't you ask Azusa-san instead?"
Azusa flinched at the sound of her name. Survival of the fittest, sorry. Conan was not sorry.
"No can do," Sonoko stated, a focused frown etched in her features ─ as though it was a matter of life and death, which he highly doubted that was the case. "She's our lead guitar."
Conan stared, then turned to the woman. "Do you know how to play the guitar?"
Her expression was, indeed, that of someone who did not know how to play the guitar.
"It doesn't matter, she can learn!" Sonoko pressed further. "All it takes is a little practice and she'll be good to go. Easy peasy!"
The agency was nearby, so all it would take was standing up and climbing up the stairs, and he would be good to go, too. Easy peasy.
"Then let's see you play!"
Now, throughout his entire life, Conan had always been under the belief that he may be the unluckiest soul to have ever lived, a position only shared by his own and only brother. Looking at Sonoko now, pale at the realization that she had said that aloud while a group of musicians sat a few tables away with their guitars, he thought he ought to reconsider it.
That, or seriously consider that he might be at fault for simply existing. Normally, since it was Sonoko who they were talking about, Conan would not give it any further thought than shrugging and letting fate run its course.
For some reason, today it was harder to ignore. He blamed it on the lack of sleep, or the stress ─ but it was hard to convince the most logical part of him, the one that pointed out that he had been staring for a bit too long. That he had forgotten to snicker at the sight of the girl's flushed cheeks and shaking hands fumbling to hold a guitar the right way.
Hesitant, she stared down at the instrument, intently as though it could magically produce music on its own if she willed it to.
"Having trouble, kid?"
"After all that tough talk, silly girl!"
At that, the boy found himself frowning. To get gratification from bullying a girl half your age just because she didn't know any better, he thought, propping his head in a closed fist. What a sad life to live.
But it wasn't like he was specially bothered ─ just terribly annoyed. They were being noisy.
Their laughter only fuelled the fire in Sonoko's face, who no doubt, maybe for once in her life, must be wishing to fade into the background. She pressed her lips tightly with one another, her eyes glassy with unshed tears she valiantly fought to keep at bay.
Conan made to stand up, but halted. He doubted his words would be of any use beyond being ridiculed further. Their lunch is already on their table, unfortunately. If only it hadn't been served already, he could've snuck out into the kitchen and see what he could get away with being small for his age and inconspicuous.
I could crawl under the table, though. The guy with the nice wedding ring on his finger was no doubt a scatterbrain, his phone barely even fit in his pants' pocket. How easy it would be to borrow it for a second ─ it wouldn't be that hard to figure out his password, and then, hypothetically , one could-
"Here. Let me try."
Or, he could just watch as Amuro dealt with the situation all by himself, in the only way most detectives were capable of ─ proving once again that bragging was one of the best ways to silence overgrown buffoons who had long deluded themselves into thinking they were on top of the world.
What a sight to see, their faces falling with every note his fingers produced, drawing the entire café's attention and stealing their breath all the same. Come to this point, the boy wondered if the guy had been passing as a rock star or something before applying for Poirot ─ what an inspiring career was that to be the case.
Conan opened his eyes back once he was finished, not sure of when he had closed them. Amazing, he had not missed a single note ─ or at least, not that he could appreciate. Though he had to say he had quite a good ear, so he'd believe he would have noticed if there was anything off. And there wasn't. That was… perfect, actually.
"Amazing, Amuro-niichan!" The boy cheered, clapping like he was his greatest fan. "In your first try, too!"
Certainly, Conan did not miss the little smile that tugged Amuro's mouth, as if amused. "What can I say?" he said, laughing in false embarrassment. "It was just beginners' luck."
And he must say, the scandalized look the man sent him was simply delicious . They didn't even finish their plate, awkwardly paying for their things before they were off their sight. Conan couldn't help but exchange a victorious grin with Amuro, who in turn merely smiled as though he couldn't understand it. Yeah, right.
Sonoko was on cloud nine, brimming with excitement ─ and proceeded to forget Azusa was there to begin so that she could go for her next victim.
"Join our band, Amuro-san!" were the words that, predictably, rushed out of her lips, for Amuro to refuse as politely as he possibly could. In the background, Ran was giggling, her shoulders free of the stress of seeing her friend going through all of it.
Sera hadn't said a word, however, though her narrowed green eyes spoke volumes. For once, Conan was uncertain whether to feel relieved or worried that he wasn't the focus of her intense scrutiny.
"Hey," she finally said. "Have we met before?"
Amuro's expression did not shift as he replied, "This must be our first time."
And Conan could only wonder.
There were times in Conan's life when he questioned his decision-making abilities, and certainly, this would be not the exception.
Perhaps there was something inherently wrong with him, he considered, and that was why he often ended up in places where he wanted to be the least, hanging out with those whose mere presence had every single cell in his body itching for an escape plan. Though it could also be mere curiosity ─ both his grand virtue and fatal flaw, that threatened to burn him from the inside out if he didn't figure out what exactly had Sera and Furuya going on there.
Logically, he knew he should have just said 'no' when Ran asked if he wanted to tag along. But predictably, that was exactly what he ended up doing, sipping on an orange juice she had graciously bought for him while they waited for a studio space to vacate so that Sonoko could keep playing pretend, K-On! or whatever.
Furuya-san offered to give them some lessons. But looking at Sera now, her fingers dancing across the recently rented bass guitar, it was a wonder if she really needed any. A friend of her brother already showed the basics, that's what she said earlier, but…
"Can you handle the bass, too?" Conan remembered her asking, her inquisitive gaze on Furuya as though she was expecting to see something beyond what lay on the surface.
"Yes," Furuya had replied, and for a moment, Conan had thought he may have spotted what Sera had been looking for ─ even if he could not quite decode it. "But I can't guarantee I'll be as good as your brother's friend."
He had barely even said anything, really, and that was the furthest of a solid clue there could ever be. But Conan was accustomed to searching for answers in people's eyes first and, while obscured by the many layers of professionalism that came with living a triple life, he thought he had spotted something. A feeble something that sparkled into life the moment she first took up that guitar, then flickered off before his next blink.
"Wow, Sera-san!" Ran praised her, smiling from ear to ear.
"Not bad!" Sonoko nodded, impressed.
"It's just a scale," Sera said. "This is pretty much all I know."
It took a second for Furuya to speak ─ a moment far too brief for anyone, but a little too long for the likes of him. "Do you remember the man who taught you how to play?"
"Well, kinda." Again, her eyes narrowed. "How did you know it was a man?"
"Oh, just a hunch."
The man was grinning. He didn't even try to hide it, and Conan couldn't figure out if that was the most irritating thing or the fact that he still couldn't see it.
"Hey, where is your spirit?!" Conan twitched, startled, only to realize he was not the intended receiver for it. "We've only got a week until the show! At this rate, we'll never be ready!"
None uttered a single comment regarding that group of women a few tables away, but certainly, Conan had strong opinions, even if he couldn't say it out loud. For one, he wished that people would know better than to argue when he was nearby, because experience had taught him that never ended well for at least one of them.
They were loud enough for him to learn that the one who left the room to take a nap was called Hagie ─ and perhaps he should stop spying on them like a noisy neighbor, like, even Sonoko had gone back to her own chattering self with the other two girls. But of course, there was this aching need to observe, because there was something telling him that, in the same way with every other instance like these, things were about to turn ugly.
That being said, what could he do? Walk up to them and say 'girls, don't kill each other please'? Like that was stopping anybody, anyway.
And besides, there's no logical reason for me to be linked to any of it. Surely, he must have heard his fair share of strangers arguing with one another that did not end with homicide, only that none of them had stuck for lack of relevance. This one will not be any different. The day will be over when Sonoko-neechan grows out of this phase, and I'll probably forget about this by tomorrow.
If he made it home by tomorrow. Sonoko waved her hands enthusiastically as she conversed with Ran, and Conan could only sigh. That may take a few days, at most.
Conan threw his head back, a groan in his lips that went unheard by most ─ if not by everyone. Should I even be here? he wondered. School starts tomorrow, and our current number one enemy is likely school aged. And considering Mitsuhiko's discovery that he was Ai's super-secret, creepy admirer, it was not a stretch to think that he may be studying in Teitan Elementary.
At his side, carelessly thrown over the table and forgotten over whatever exciting daydreaming Sonoko was immersed in, laid the bass guitar. Absently, he ran his fingers across a random cord, taking on the sound that reached his ears. Sol, he thought, distantly. Where should he start looking? He was pretty sure Ai would have noticed if Generic was in their class, but what about the same grade in a different class? Re. La. Mi… Sol…
"Do you want me to teach you?"
The boy lifted his head away from the guitar to blink, his brain too slow in his rebooting process. Furuya must have sensed his confusion, winked in his personal way of laughing, and grabbed the guitar. The situation did not really progress until he realized that he had sat at another table, leaving the girls to converse to their hearts' content, and simply waited.
Conan's cheeks were slightly red when he finally opted to make his way over, unsure why he was even agreeing to begin with. Rei had Amuro's perfect smile on his lips and the guitar in his hold, "See," he was saying, well before he arrived. "You hold it like-"
"I think I can figure out that on my own."
"Oh, really?" He offered him the instrument. "Give it a try, then."
And so he accepted, between hands that could barely hold its size. He tried not to let it get on his face, but Rei's unshifting expression made it difficult to decide if he had been successful.
At least, he remained wisely unaware of the bluish purple gaze that flickered away and a little over Sonoko's head, and twinkled in amusement at the boy they found, stumbling forward with a guitar that was almost bigger than he was. She saw a pout forming in his face, even if she would never let call it as such in his presence, and Amuro crouching lightly in his aid.
She couldn't help but giggle a little. "That's rather adorable," she said, when her friends' faces demonstrated their confusion.
Sonoko peered over her shoulder. A small frown caressed Conan's features as he struggled to get his fingers to work as they should.
"Sadly, I can't get the full effect," she said, shrugging. "Knowing it is that brat and everything."
"That's not true! Conan-kun is quite the cute kid."
"Ran, I get you love the kid, but he enjoys poking at dead bodies when you aren't looking."
"An… unconventional kind of cute?"
Face propped up by a fist, Sera chuckled lightly before, distractedly, glancing over their direction. Amuro had now crouched behind the boy whose eyes remained on the guitar he was holding, twinkling too brightly for those lenses to obscure, no matter how thick. They opened just a little wider, wonder lighting up his face as Amuro gently coaxed his fingers to pull on the right chords.
Sera only watched them in silence, a distant look in her eyes that only Ran acknowledged.
As the right notes resounded in the air, Rei felt himself smile ─ a faint, but loosely kind of rarity Conan would not get the chance to appreciate.
"You're doing good," he praised the boy. "How about we train you into becoming the lead guitarist?"
Conan grimaced. "Don't say it too loudly," he said, glancing over the girls' table in a shiver, and sighing when he realized they were too focused on one another to care. "Especially without Sonoko-neechan in the same room."
"Oh, but I thought she didn't like you?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm not interested in becoming a desperate measure."
"How about Shinichi-kun, then? If it's you, you could certainly rope him into doing it in your stead."
He'd probably murder him if he knew they were talking about him. "I don't know, he does play the violin though," he shrugged, a smile crawling up onto his lips. "Surely it shouldn't be that different, right?"
A pull of a string later, something had shifted, or rather, had faded out. The smile was still standing, but the light in his eyes had dimmed as though they were peering down into the dark abyss of his own memories.
"He would probably do it in a heartbeat," he said, with a chuckle that felt choked out. "In order to protect me, he…"
Words trailed down, his nightmares stumbling in like an early visitor he didn't want to see. Vivid as though he was asleep, he saw his hand falling limply again, limp against hospital sheets as he held on tight. Even now, his heart ached with the need to get a response from lips that would not move again, similar to all those unanswered calls waiting in his phone to discover.
Conan drew his fingers across the guitar, an inharmonious sound that failed to soothe those thoughts out of his head. How nice it would be, a single piece of paper remained, stubbornly refusing to leave, a percentage that had destroyed it all in a second, if these hands were good for anything other than collecting blood.
Behind him, he heard Rei chuckling. "You truly are the reflection of one another."
But the boy didn't move, neither to display surprise nor acknowledgment.
"Say, Furuya-san," he asked instead, his voice small and his head low. "Do you have any siblings?"
He felt his hands flinching over his, and that finally encouraged him to turn around. And for the first time, Conan was able to see the sheer force of a stunned expression. In a blink of an eye, it was gone, softened to the point where he wasn't able to tell which of the masks he was wearing right now.
"In a way, I do," Rei told him.
Conan just stood there, struggling to make sense of the situation.
Of course, that was when they heard the obligatory scream of the day. Was it bad, the boy wondered, that he pretty much knew who the victim was this time, even before seeing the body? He settled for 'no', and since nobody was there in his mind to tell him otherwise, he left it at that.
No words would ever suffice to explain how exhausting it was being right on his suspicions, no matter how unfounded they could be.
There wasn't even anything extremely relevant about Yamaji Hagie's death either. Slumped over her drum with her wool hat still on, bloodshot eyes wide open and vacantly staring up ahead to the afterlife ─ strangled, too, how creative. And now, it was up to them to figure out how out of the three suspects ─ yes, three again ─ were the one who committed the crime.
A crime that was bound to go perfectly, had probably the culprit's belief back then. With half of the security footage being blocked by a phone stick, that so happened to be where the drums were set, there was no way they could not have gotten away with it. How unfortunate of them, to choose the day three detectives decided it would be nice to stumble in their murder.
The kid detective, the girl detective and the barista detective, Conan had heard Megure calling them under his breath. He must be having a field day, that guy.
That being said, Conan's thought finished with a sigh, not quite wrapping up into an idea. One would think, and would probably be right nine out of ten of the cases, that having so many talented people in one place would assure that the investigation would not last long. But that was, if they so happened to work together.
On one side, there was Sera, oddly distracted. It wasn't even the first time he had caught her, sending a forlorn look over her shoulder each time a person passed by with a guitar case tucked up over their shoulder. And every single time, too, Rei would turn to see her , but mysteriously, it still left the question marinating within Conan regarding whether he really was looking at her all along.
Furuya-san is hiding something, Conan thought, a suspicious frown forming on his face. Which shouldn't be strange at all, really, since everyone was allowed to have a secret or two. But having a secret and Conan being unaware of it were widely different things, and he was not letting that happen. What kind of detective would he be, really?
One that could easily concentrate on the murder at hand, actually. At this point, they should at least have found the murder weapon, but surprise surprise, it turned out that his mind had a lot more presence than the thing in question. And even if they knew what Hagie had been strangled with, the identity of the killer was as obscure as it could get.
It would be easy, almost tempting, to blame the bass player Fuekawa Tadako for their limited vision in the recordings, as she was the one who placed the phone there. Even her claimed ignorance of the harm she would cause was questionable at best, but nobody had argued when she said she simply put it where she had been told to. By the deceased Hagie, on top of that. If Mouri Kogoro was in the case, there was no doubt he would have linked her to the crime, but since he wasn't there and Conan wasn't imaginative enough, he had been forced to cross out that theory from the list.
The recordings showed nothing useful either. Conan slumped tiredly at the thought. All three entered the scene of the crime at separate times, but…
Tadako was first, called out to Hagie a few times to no avail. Her partly hidden figure was seen sitting down and sewing her friend's jacket button and sleeves for ten whole minutes.
In second place came Kibune Someka, who had tried to restring her guitar and wake up the victim at the same time. She had apparently thought that making a whole lot of noise would rouse her, but she had not been too lucky. Hagie had just slept on, face tucked in her drums as per she was accustomed to.
And that left the keyboardist Kogure Rumi last. She had apparently tried a gentler approach, turning the volume down before sitting down with her back facing the camera and fixing a certain passage with her keyboard.
Anyone could have done it, and at the same time, nobody could've done a thing without being seen. Normally, the promise of a good mystery that had absolutely nothing to do with the dangers of a certain species in the family known as corvidae he didn't really like to think about, would have excited him like nothing else, but-
"What's wrong, Sera-san?" Ran's gentle, slightly worried tone brought him right back to reality.
"Spotted a suspect?" Sonoko asked.
Sera shook her head. "It's just that all those people with guitar cases," she said, "reminds me of spotting my brother Shuu with his guitar at a subway station four years back."
His head snapped up so swiftly that he almost broke his spine. Shuu? his mind echoed back, as though reminding him that it was not as unfamiliar as it probably should. It must be coincidence, the thoughts resounded as they dived deep in the abyss, no matter how hard he struggled to hold on to them.
Because that could not be it, he convinced himself. If he could keep that belief alive for long enough, even as those green eyes flickered downwards to him to speak and the waves of déjà vu struck, it would eventually become the truth, right?
"I was surprised. I thought he was still in the States and I didn't know he'd gotten into music." Memories glimmered as emerald in her gaze, much brighter than Conan could remember ever seeing her. "I was on the way home from a movie with a friend, but I chased after him and jumped on the train. I just had to hear him play the guitar!"
"Then what?" Sonoko asked, excited to know the rest.
Only that Conan had the feeling that he did not, after all, want to know anymore. Mostly because, if that was not a coincidence, if that turned out to be the truth…
"After we changed trains a few times, Shuu-nii saw me on the platform. I told him I was out of money and didn't know the way back. He ran off to get me a ticket." Her laugh felt bittersweet at best, forcibly choked off from the darkest depths of her heart, where it wanted to sleep forever. "I was in middle school, so I knew perfectly well how to get home, but I knew he still saw me as a little kid."
"Did you wait a long time for him?" Ran asked.
"Yeah, I felt like crying. But then, the guy he was with said,"
"You like music?"
He did not know who that was, he could not even picture what his face had looked like, but for Conan, it was almost as if he could see it happening. A kind smile playing at his lips, gentle hands guiding hers so that she could hold bass properly ─ a train passing by, drowning the soft sound of his voice as he patiently taught her how to play the scales, creating a moment that would forever be engraved into her mind for the years to come.
"Maybe he and your brother were in a band!" Ran suggested.
"I don't know about that," Sera confessed. "The guy was carrying a cloth instrument case but it stayed intact after he took the bass out. I get the feeling the bass was a decoy and he was transporting something else."
Conan felt the knot in his stomach tightening. A rifle.
Rei was behind him, and it only now fell on him that he had been doing that ever since the girl had opened her mouth. Silent as a rock, but attentive to every detail of the story she was narrating. Were his thoughts heading towards a similar destination, or did he know more than Conan could possibly be aware of?
"Did you get his name?" Sonoko asked.
"I didn't ask, but another guy who showed up on the platform," her gaze narrowed, the jovial spark of nostalgia fading into something sharper, and fiercer, "called him Scotch."
Ran's smile froze in her face, and he could tell that her heart had stopped sometime along with the boy's. Their eyes met for less than a second before they parted ways once more ─ both of them knowing better than to let anyone read into the message coded into their retinas.
But it seemed none of them were what interested this young female detective. Rei barely even reacted as she turned over to face him, her features hardening as she told him,
"The guy who called him that had his hat pulled low over his face, but he looked a lot like you, Amuro-san."
It took him a second for the smile to return, but in the interim, Conan caught him pursing his lips.
"Who, me?" he said, chuckling innocently. "While you're wandering down memory lane, a case remains open. Are you a detective or not?"
"You bet I am."
And that was true, in every sense of the word. Only that Conan wasn't sure that was something he should allow to happen, or stand in the way so not to see the world burn at her feet. If Sera was involved, however, that was bound to happen sooner or later.
Little to nothing was known about Shuto Akane besides the fact that she had been blessed with the gift of music.
Guitar, bass, keyboard, it didn't matter, she would excel at it ─ but none of that could ever compete with the angelic, beautiful voice she had been graced with from birth. Taking all of it into consideration, none of her friends had ever doubted for a second that a successful career was just within her reach.
But of course, none of them had expected the tragedy that befell her, so suddenly at that. A traffic accident, Conan had been told, although there were those who still believed that she had decided to take her own life after having strained her throat. And while that would be surprising to hear, Conan could not say he had never heard remotely similar before.
Three suspects and a dead friend aside from the victim. Who would've guessed.
"She was hopeless at anything girly," Kibune recalled, a nostalgic smile caressing her lips. "Hagie taught her how to cook and I introduced her to make up and fashion."
"I tried to teach her sewing but she never got into it," Fuekaba said, turning to Kogure. "She was more into knitting, right?"
"That was what I taught her, but you and Akane got better than me," she replied. "I haven't knitted much lately."
Conan perked up, Any reason you thought it relevant to mention that? but did not voice his thoughts, instead opening his eyes wide and nodding his head like the nosy little kid he was supposed to be.
"That was everything you wanted to know, little boy?" Fuekaba said, her lips stretching in a lopsided grin.
"Yup!" Conan nodded, brightly. "Thank you so much ─ and good luck to you all!"
Then pretended to miss the hesitant look they all shot at one another. He excitedly trotted away, easily maneuvering past Sera and Rei's legs to reach Ran, who was just standing there, waiting for his return.
Her face, however, was twisted in a strange expression. It kind of reminded him of the women from before, which actually, didn't mystify him as much as he would have preferred.
Especially when she crouched next to him, and leaned closer to whisper, "Conan-kun?"
"What is it, Ran-neechan?"
"How did you know that their old singer was dead?"
"I didn't." He blinked up at her adorably. "I just asked for 'their friend who passed away', they mentioned 'singer' themselves."
Ran's mouth opened and closed silently, unable to come up with what to say. Sonoko, on the other hand, did have plenty on her mind to speak out. Hands on hooked on her waist and eyebrow raising as if wanting to hide behind her hairline, "You were just guessing? "
Keeping his gaze from dulling upon meeting hers was comparable to fighting the forces of nature on his own. "More like using experience as a catalyst," he said with a shrug. "It was worth taking a chance."
Sonoko regarded him for a moment, then went to Ran. "Are little kids supposed to speak like that?"
Conan wanted to roll his eyes. "Not my fault if your vocabulary is so lacking."
"Okay, listen here-"
"Hey, don't you want to see Yamaji-san's last performance?"
She stopped in her tracks, confusion deepening her frown. "No?"
"What do you mean 'no'?" His grin took a sharper, dare she say wilder, turn as he crossed his arms behind his head ─ just like an innocent little kid who was definitely not up to no good. "We're in the middle of a murder case with three suspects. The police could do with three detectives to help them out."
"I… don't think I'm following, brat."
"How long has it been since Deduction Queen Sonoko stepped up onto the stage?" Sonoko's breath slipped away, and Conan brightened further, if possible. "Time for a dramatic comeback."
Hesitation clear in her eyes, Sonoko merely stared down at the young boy ─ her mouth hanging open, ready to tell him to forget whatever scheme he had been plotting for who knows how long. But then, they flickered back up, to Sera's crossed arms and gaze distant with overlapping thoughts, and to Amuro's smile as he engaged in a casual conversation with Inspector Megure, and felt her shoulders dropping.
With a sigh, she decidedly made her way over. Conan tried not to make the triumphant grin on his face too noticeable.
Ran watched her friend approaching the suspects. Kogure looked confused, but soon enough, she was digging through her pockets in search of what Ran assumed to be her phone. That had seemed to gather the other two detective's attention who, as though they were but moths attracted to the light, drew closer to them.
Conan kept his distance, though, contemplating with the smile of an artist satisfied by their own creation. Ran had a lot of thoughts about this, processed nearly none of them.
"Are you still wary about Sera-san?" But she felt like she needed to address it, regardless. "Or is it Amuro-san?"
"Amuro-san is alright ─ he's an ally. Sera-san is… I don't know what her deal is, but I don't think she means any harm, come to this point. She does creep me out, but…"
"Then what's wrong?"
But the boy did not even grace her with a look. "I… don't know," he confessed, his lips tugging down by some strange force Ran's eyes could not see. "I feel like I shouldn't."
Ran remained quiet by his side, still in her crouching position despite the uncomfortable sting at her calves that implied that a cramp was coming. Patiently, she waited for his wandering eyes to rest, somewhere in the culprit's face, too unfocused to make out where it really lay.
"It's just this weird sensation, you know?" he said, more like whispered to her. Ran could only wonder if rubbing his own arm was a conscious action, or if it had really registered in his mind for that matter. "Crawling under my skin ─ like there's someone around at all times. Watching me. Watching us. "
She really wanted to frown, but forced her features to smooth out into a more comforting appearance. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Conan had to think about it for a second. "Later," he promised, and walked away from her.
Finally standing up, Ran followed him with her gaze, scanning his every movement as though she were another detective in their midst. She kept an eye on every twitch of his hands, hidden inside his pockets, every imperceptible hitch in his voice as he whined for a chance to see the video too.
"The detective gave it back to me," the suspect was explaining. "He said there wasn't anything useful in it."
His eyes went wide, and while round and innocent, Ran would always recognize that sharp, almost glint that was as unsettling as natural for her, come to this point.
"Perhaps you should insist on them having it," Conan said, his voice adorably squeaky ─ but not enough. "Maybe they'll find something really interesting there, laying in plain sight."
And as Kogure Rumi shivered, Ran knew Conan had set his sights on the culprit.
Sonoko didn't really know what the brat's deal was when he told her to just wait there in the break room studio. But did not fight him on it as strongly as she probably should have, and instead, brought back a chair and, just, went back to waiting.
She wasn't alone in the room, but for all that it mattered, she practically was. Two officers stood there, almost menacingly while they watched the entrance, their undivided attention on the table further back where the three suspects were engaging in awkward chatter.
Kibune Someka, Fuekawa Tadako and Kogure Rumi; one of them was said to be responsible for their friend's death, but Sonoko couldn't figure them out for the life of her. The strings from Kibune's guitar were perfectly clean, and Fuekawa's sewing kit was about as harmless as the nail clipper she had lent Kogure ─ especially when the victim had been strangled to death. What was there to say, beyond a shadow of doubt, there was no third party involved?
Well, the kid's word probably, for what it was worth. Or the knowing glint in both Amuro and Sera's eyes as they glanced over at the video Kogure showed them. That of all four of them playing what may be their last song, filmed in vertical position because they thought it would be 'cooler' ─ only that, in Sonoko's humble option, was more unnerving than anything else. That was a hideous crime, if she had seen one.
That being said, it would seem that none of her concerns had even crossed the minds of the actual detectives. Sitting across her in silence were Amuro and Sera, their eyes unable to leave that certain spot slightly over her shoulder where she knew the culprit was, enjoying her last seconds as an innocent bystander. Who out of the three it was, however, was a question that not even Deduction Queen Sonoko could answer.
Especially when her head pounded with every conclusion she could not draw. She leaned back in her chair with a groan. "What I would give for an ice-cream right now," she whined. "Which is precisely what we should be doing on our last day of summer! At least you can agree with me on that, don't… you… Hey, Ran?"
Her words trailed down, drowned by the silence without making a mark in the present. Ran remained quiet, in her own world where her voice didn't seem to reach, so Sonoko had to follow her gaze if she wanted to get a glimpse of what had her friend in such a state. And found Sera's face, which didn't explain anything at all.
Or at least, she didn't think she would figure it out on her own without a hint ─ or a better one, for that matter. Unfortunately, there would not be any time for such trivialities, as soon enough, Sonoko's attention was brisked away by the phone in her hands.
The moment she saw the message pop up on her screen, she immediately regretted ever giving the brat her number ─ then later remembered she hadn't, so it was likely Ran had done it in her stead, and her own free will because he couldn't imagine the boy even wanting such a thing filling up space in his phone. But considering how often the kid wound up in trouble in the most bizarre ways possible, Sonoko supposed she could understand Ran wanting him as many older people around as possible, just in case his usual emergency contacts happened to be busy.
Sonoko definitely needed to talk to Ran about this ─ and make it clear she had never agreed to it. But that was for later. Now, she would curiously tap into the bubble notification and see what in the world he could possibly want.
And stare at the screen, her brain struggling to make sense of this. He had sent her a picture, a generic one that he had likely pulled up from a simple image search. Drumsticks, was everything she could make out of it, because context was overrated for kids these days, it seemed. Sonoko let out a heavy sigh, tempted to just delete the cryptic message and leave the other two to figure it out on their own.
If playing detective was blindly patting around the dark and hoping for the best, then this wasn't for her.
That being said, she did not do such a thing. The phone simply lay locked over the table, the picture of the drumsticks intact within.
All of a sudden, bright blue eyes peeked out from the door. They met hers for a fraction of a second, as though relaying her a message she couldn't quite decode, before he stepped inside with Inspector Megure and Detective Takagi in tow. He climbed up in the seat next to Ran, and just sat there, a cheeky smile on his lips as he peered around the girl to watch her, poor clueless Sonoko.
"Huh?! You think one of us killed Hagie?!"
"You most definitely did!" Conan chirped, happily from all the way to his own table. "That's why Sonoko-neechan told me to bring the police here!"
Sonoko blinked slowly, then winced violently as realization finally struck.
"Oh, is that so?" Amuro glanced over at her, his lips curving into a smirk.
"I didn't take you as a detective," Sera commented, a similar expression taking over her face.
"W-Well…" She made a mental note to strangle the brat later. "Actually…"
"She's pretty good!" Conan said, grinning at her, the bastard. "She's known as Deduction Queen Sonoko in her school, right, Sonoko-neechan ? Don't tell me you haven't heard about her!"
Sonoko could only laugh. Not that he was lying, but still , would it kill him to lend her a hand in this situation he arbitrarily put her in? It was absolutely not fair, and she had absolutely not signed up for this.
Though, technically? She might as well have. From the moment she thought it would be a perfect idea to listen to an eight-year-old boy ─ more specifically, this gremlin of an eight-year-old boy. Really, she should have known better ─ much better.
"I don't know who you think you are," Kibune began, in a low guttural growl. "But none of us were carrying anything that could be used to strangle somebody."
"That's right!" Kogure pipped in before Sonoko could think of something intelligent enough to say. "We couldn't have done it!"
"But you totally could!" Conan protested, holding his little fists just a little above his shoulders. "Sonoko-neechan said it was possible!"
Sonoko froze in her spot, cold sweat dripping from her chin. The kid turned to give her a pointed look that was supposed to mean something, but come to this point, the girl was more preoccupied whether she wanted to understand it, or simply scoff the situation away and walk out of this while she could.
"Of course they haven't found it," but then, Amuro suddenly spoke, his voice coming in calmly in the whirlwind in her mind. "The weapon has already been removed from the studio." And then, he winked at the high schooler ─ and God, wasn't this man handsome? "You were about to say that, weren't you, Sonoko-san?"
The kid nodded so lightly that she wouldn't have perceived it if she wasn't looking for it. "My… My thoughts exactly." She managed a grin, probably too shaky to pass off as confident. "You thought you were so cunning, but not enough. Nothing would escape those sharp eyes of mine, as you may know."
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Conan sighing. He was probably regretting his every decision to date, which was good, because she could totally relate.
"We know you didn't take it out of the studio!" Sera interrupted a suspect before she could even start to argue. "We know you didn't take it out of the studio. The cops did it for you."
The police did? Sonoko paused, pondering over her classmates' words for a moment. Eyes growing slightly wider, she looked over to her in quiet realization. "They took it to the station to analyze it."
She smiled back in turn, "The yarn," and confirmed with a nod. "Hagie-san was wearing a knitted cap. The killer strangled her with a strand of yarn!"
The revelation of the truth was almost as shocking as it was for the inspector and police detective around, but since she was to play her part, Sonoko struggled to keep her face as neutral as possible.
"The killer chose yarn that would match the victim's hat," Amuro stepped in. "After strangling her to death, she removed the pom-pom at the top, tied the strand to one end of the yarn in the hat, knitted it in, and tied the pom-pom back on."
And once more, Conan was back at staring at her ─ a sharp look in his eyes, as if trying to infuse her with his disturbingly broad knowledge which, admittedly, should mean that it was her turn to make her input for the cause. As though it was time to wrap the case for good, and she was the hammer to put the final nail in the murderer's coffin.
But for some reason, the boy didn't even take a step closer, merely gave her that one look. Did that mean that he, in his own sort of way, trusted her enough to make this leap of logic on her own? That's ridiculous, she thought with a mental scoff. The brat probably thinks it's obvious and is despairing over the fact that… that I…
Wait, if the murderer knitted the yard in the hat right after the crime, how did we not see her? It would have taken a while, too, so she must have positioned themselves to pretend otherwise, and hadn't Kogure turned her back on the camera? Come to think of it ─ her breath slipped away ─ she couldn't remember ever seeing her hands, moving across the keyboard as she had claimed to be doing.
She mentioned teaching the others how to knit, too. But there was no way she could have done so without… She found herself glancing over at the boy again, and did not miss the way his lips curved into that cocky smirk she had only seen on someone else before.
Finally, it pinged ─ the message of one young, brilliant boy finally found its way to her. Sonoko found herself snickering, the confused glances all around serving as an incentive to be louder.
"Good try, but I have long figured you out," Sonoko said, her voice brimming with the confidence she had seemed to have lost sight of. "You, who used Hagie-san's drumsticks to knit the evidence away from our eyes…'
Hand hooked on her waist, Deductive Queen Sonoko raised her arm, and pointed high at the ceiling. "Only one who could've done it…" She brought it back down, her grin dazzling as she singled the culprit out of the rest. "It's you, Kogure Rumi-san!"
Conan's shoulders dropped, his face smoothing into a more timid but sincere little smile. Good, at least she had not messed it up this time around.
And miraculously, it seemed to be drawing to an end. Predictably, Kogure argued vividly against the accusation and her friends, despite being at risk of taking the blame for her, stood up for her.
Even as Amuro brought up that one video, and pointed out that the placement of the phone camera depended entirely where the keyboardist, who couldn't move freely around the set, chose to stand ─ making it easy for her to manipulate her bandmates into blocking the camera with the phone. Even as Sera told them that it had inevitably been Kogure who came up to Hagie, who unknowingly set her head down for a nap in her usual place after being drugged, and finished her off. Even as the police promised they would know for sure after checking for fingerprints, neither of those girls gave up on their friend.
Because there was no way, they said. The beloved hat Akane, Kogure's best friend, had knitted for Hagi could not have been used for such a hideous thing.
"Wrong." But then, Kogure had destroyed every semblance of hope with one shaky breath. "I used the hat precisely because Akane made it."
For it was, she had broken in a confession, a means to carry out her dear Akane's revenge. Akane, who had lost her voice after a drunk Hagi criticized her voice, only to get nothing but more of it afterwards… Hadn't it been for her cruelty, she had said in a sob, maybe Akane wouldn't have thrown herself over a car.
Alas, it turned out that Hagie had blamed herself over her death, but not for pushing her into suicide, but for the promise that should've been broken. She had chosen silence, jumping in to save a little boy instead of calling him out, not knowing that the world would lose her beautiful voice forever as a result. And thus, Kogure finally broke down ─ wailing and wailing until she, like Akane, could not make a single sound ever again.
Sonoko watched her go ─ the woman who loved her friend with all her soul, someone who would do everything in her power for the sake of her, yet failed when it came to understanding. Understanding what was really going through her mind, and in trying to fix things, she came to destroy what was most precious to her.
Hesitantly, Sonoko glanced over to Ran; her face too rigid, her gaze too distant. She grew quiet, uncertainty filling up all those empty little holes in her heart.
Pressure in her shoulder brought her right back from her own musings, and to the arm that came to rest its way on her.
"You're not too shabby, are you?" Sera beamed up from close. "As a fellow detective, I'm impressed you've closed a case all on your own."
Conan walked right past her, his shoulders brushing against his legs as the only indicator he had ever been there. He sent one glance towards her, though, but it went away too quickly to deduce that the smile had been a reality or a product of her own imagination. He chose to approach Ran instead, leaving her alone for what definitely must not be the first time today.
Whether he had really even abandoned her or not, Sonoko could not ascertain ir as easily as she thought she would.
"I wouldn't say that. You and Amuro-san had pretty much everything handled on your own," Sonoko laughed, in an unexpected bout of fake humility. "You're an incredible detective, Sera-san. For a teenager."
"Well." She stepped back. A smile lit up her face, in a way nothing had ever been able to before. "I wouldn't have become a detective without my brother to inspire me."
Sonoko felt herself choking in air, but waved it off with a nervous laugh as she coughed behind her hand. Probably the beginnings of a summer cold, she would say if asked ─ and if her stomach was twisting on itself, then that had to be it, and definitely not the unsettling notion of having lived through that before.
Conan was staring at her though, squinting his eyes behind his glasses. Take a hint, brat.
"The smart brother you mentioned during the Red Lady case?" Ran asked when Sonoko failed to react normally.
"That's my middle brother. The really cool one is our big bro!"
"Oh, the one who died?" Sonoko tilted her head slightly. "Wasn't he a cop who got killed in the line of duty or something?"
"Yeah, but he wasn't a cop. He was an agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
That seemed to draw a certain small detective's attention, for whatever reason that escaped the girl completely. More than harmless curiosity, there was something else in that ashen little face of his that propelled him forward ─ the way his voice trembled, almost imperceptibly, as he asked for the name of Sera's brother, almost made her fearful of her answer.
"His name is Akai Shuichi!" Sera declared, grinning from ear to ear, and all the little color he had seemed to have left drained from his face in a bat of an eye. "Sounds cool, huh?"
"Y-Yeah." Conan tried to smile ─ emphasis on ' tried'. "Super cool."
After glancing over at the boy for a moment, she decided to do him a favor and draw her attention from him. "Is he the one you spotted at a Tokyo subway station once?" she questioned, not failing to notice how Conan backpedaled, quickly making her way out of her field of vision.
"Yeah, that's why I was so surprised!" Sera said, excitement coloring her tone. "He was probably just a friend he met while he was hanging out in Japan, though."
All the while, Ran remained silent ─ her gaze posed on Sera even as the boy accidentally crashed into her, his little body unable to move her even an inch from her position. Confused, Conan blinked up at her, watched as her forehead scrunched up, and tried not to jump back as she suddenly crouched down next to him.
"Say, Conan-kun," she whispered, her eyes oddly narrowed. She hadn't even glanced in his direction, be it to acknowledge his presence or something else. "You mentioned earlier that Amuro-san is an ally, didn't you?"
Conan hesitated, and this time, Ran turned to him. He jumped, startled, at the sudden intensity of her eyes, and managed a nod.
"Good," she told him, before standing up. Conan simply stood there, lost and confused as she approached the group, and more specifically, went to Amuro.
"Amuro-san, I'm sorry to ask you, but could you walk Conan-kun home for me?"
For a change, Rei appeared almost as puzzled as he was. Ran smiled as though he had agreed, and addressed Sera instead, "You're coming with us, right, Sera-san?"
The entire room blinked at her. "Go where?" Sera questioned.
"Sonoko said she wanted some ice-cream, didn't she?" she replied, as though it was the most sane and absolutely not random thing in the world to say. "I thought I could treat you both. As a celebration for solving the case!"
Sonoko appeared torn between surprise and feeling touched at the gesture, but Ran pretended to notice none of that, and instead, turned to Conan ─ who wasn't as torn as she was, fully immersed into the sensation of confusion his brain tried to navigate through.
"Conan-kun said he was tired," she explained. "I don't want to drag him around for the ride, so…"
"I see," Rei said with a pleasant smile. Whether he was past his period of bewilderment, Conan couldn't tell. "Don't worry then. I'll get him back home safely."
"Thank you!" Ran beamed. "Then, let's go, you two!"
"W-Wait, Ran?!"
And like so, they headed away. Not even once did the boy stop pondering about the pointed glance Ran sent him before closing the door behind her, but despite his best efforts, the young sleuth remained oblivious to what was actually happening, both in front of his eyes and beneath the surface.
Maybe he should just ask her later and leave it be for now, he decided.
September came wafting in the next day, in an early autumn breath that Rei's whirlwind of a life forgot it existed, bringing in the calmness of a beautiful morning of work. Only pausing once to wave at Azusa as she made her way inside, Amuro Tooru diligently swept the dust away from this humble establishment, a smile on his face as he strived for sparkling clean results.
Because that was what his life was about ─ no matter how mundane the work would be, perfection was to be ensured. He could not allow himself anything less than that.
In order to survive in this world, it was indispensable to be two steps ahead and seize control of the situation.
"As you must know already, my brother doesn't trust you." A breeze caressed his cheeks, taking Edogawa Conan's words along for the ride. "But I do."
But it had been hard to say anything at all, to the unwavering blue that peered up at him from behind those comically large glasses of his. "And I'm still not one-hundred percent certain you're doing the right thing, but," the boy had said, his gaze sharpening with every word he pronounced, "at least I know you're doing what you believe is right."
For a moment, Rei had done nothing. Nothing, but perhaps, smile at this boy ─ that curious small individual with the intellect of a much older soul, but eyes clear as crystal windows that told a widely different story. A story of a young kid, willing to pour his heart out to others despite experience suggesting otherwise.
"You're going to wind up with a knife in the back one of those days," Rei had told him. Conan had frowned, but it did nothing but amuse him. "What are you going to do if your suspicions are far off from the truth?"
"Because that's what the police do, right? They protect people," Conan had said, with an earnest expression he could not reply to. "But there's people I need to protect, too, Furuya-san."
No matter how tempting, not a single word had left Rei's lips afterwards. And the boy, knowing a losing fight when he knew one, had dropped his head with an exhausted sigh. Mumbling his goodnight wishes, he had made his way up the stairs of the detective agency and left the blonde behind to ponder.
"Wow, so this is where Conan-kun lives!"
Living several lives at once had dotted him with the ability to shift in between masks as swiftly as the blink of an eye, and this time, it was Bourbon who stepped into the light. Schooling his expression into indifference, the detective glanced over his shoulder to confirm that, indeed, he was not alone anymore.
A raven-haired boy and a broad grin was what he found, as well as a dark gaze that disregarded him completely. For he knew his presence was nothing in comparison to the building in front of him, letters that spelled out Mouri's Detective Agency for his eyes to widen at.
"Living in a detective agency must be so exciting…" he said, hands latched behind his back. "I'm so jealous!"
"Oh?" Bourbon raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "Do you two know each other?"
"Hm!" The kid nodded eagerly. "We're best buddies!"
He had said it just like that, as if it didn't mean anything at all. Which, normally, would indeed lack any relevant significance. For anyone who was a witness to it, all they could see would be an excited young elementary school student, balancing on the ball of his feet as he gazed up at the building. A backpack strapped on his back, an impatient posture of a kid who was waiting at his friend's door to head back to school together.
But Bourbon was different. He had to fight himself not to frown at him.
"I wonder if he's already left for school," the kid said, giggling to himself. "He's gonna be so shocked when I-"
He had taken just a step, one single step towards the stairs leading to the agency, when he had to pause. Confusion, bewilderment, it all faded away in the snap of a finger, yet, nothing came up to fill up the space ─ he glanced back, hollow dark eyes settling onto the larger hand that still remained there, set firmly in place on his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" he said monotonously. He shook the hand off with little effort and turned about fully, his head tilting slightly downwards as he regarded the blonde detective in front of him. "Why can't I go greet my friend, Bourbon?"
"Because it's improper," Bourbon said, the lies rushing out easily as though he didn't have to think through them. "You can't invite yourself to a friend's house before getting invited first. Or getting their address from their own mouth."
The boy gazed up at him, pondering his words for a few seconds, tickling in a world that had seemed to slow down to a standstill. Eventually, they opened back up again, and as bright as the sun above, the boy beamed again, "I guess you're right!"
Bourbon smiled back, turning back to the broom in his hands. The boy watched him for a moment of mild curiosity, tilting his head slightly to the right as the detective moved around, a faint cloud of smoke forming at his feet.
"That being said," the kid began, "I'm surprised you're working this close to where he lives."
He continued sweeping. "I have my reasons," was his answer.
"Say, say, Bourbon-san, are you guys close?"
"Acquaintances. He heads down to Poirot occasionally."
He hummed, blinking owlishly at the man. "Well, he's the first friend I've made in quite a while," he said, his forehead scrunching up in a frown. "I don't want to lose him too."
Bourbon refused to answer, and in return, the kid turned his head away. Probably deciding that it was about time to leave, for good this time. It was fortunate that he was doing it by his own volition ─ and before a certain little detective he happened to know stumbled out, bleary-eyed as usual, only to find this person standing in front of his home.
Oblivious to his true nature, he may have agreed on something he shouldn't, and walking to school together was but an example of it.
"Don't you dare ruin it for me," the boy warned, pausing once to glance over at him. "If you dare talk ill of me to Conan-kun and something suddenly changes, I'd know!"
"I would never," Bourbon said, smiling warmly down at the boy. "Have a good day at school, Generic-kun."
And so, Generic regarded him, the pout smoothing over the edges until a cheeky grin replaced it altogether. Somewhere in the distance, Rei thought he heard the cry of a crow ─ echoing throughout his empty soul before the child walked into the shadows and promptly vanished from his sight.