Chapter 68
Detective Boys and the Portent of Memories
5 years after the takedown of the black organization:
Enoshima
Enoshima was a picturesque island situated in the middle of an inlet sea. Though it was separated from the mainland, a bridge built by locals years ago allowed for tourist to walk across the frothy white waves. The bridge led to a narrow cobblestone pathway that meandered up a slope. Along this incline, various traditional shops sold souvenir trinkets and food. Shop owners called out to tourists, trying to attract their attention, while others quietly displayed their goods as people passed by.
Mitsuhiko, however, was fixated on the magnificent fixture at the start of the slope. Shaped like a torii gate, it wasn't painted the traditional red but rather an electric blue. It was beautiful and made for an excellent photo.
After snapping a picture, Mitsuhiko glanced toward the forested hill at the end of the slope, where temples and shops dotted the hillside.
Breathing in the fresh air, he turned to his group, who were still arguing about whether to take the escalators or climb the stairs.
"We should climb," Isamu insisted. "We'll get to see the temples that way!"
He was determined to visit the dragon shrine, inconveniently located in a cave on the other side of the island.
"We only have two hours, Saeki-san!" Eri snapped. "If we climb every staircase we see, we won't have time for anything else!"
"It would be an experience!"
"I want to visit Candletop Park," Kenta added.
"Don't forget the Love Bell," Aya chimed in. The bell, also inconveniently situated, was at the top of the hill.
"So, stairs?"
"No, escalator!"
"Kojima-kun, you're the leader. You decide," Mai sighed.
The group—Isamu, Kenta, Mitsuhiko, Ayumi, Yuki, Mai, Eri, and Aya—all turned to glare at their leader, Genta. Oblivious to the argument, Genta was already buying a snack from a nearby store. He looked up, startled, and frowned.
"What?"
"Pay attention! We need your opinion," Mitsuhiko groaned.
"Genta-kun, seriously!" Ayumi scolded him. "Eating again?"
"But... but look, Ayumi," Genta protested, pointing to the snack. It was an Enoshima specialty, a flattened rice cracker. Mitsuhiko noticed that it wasn't just any rice cracker—the locals had pressed a giant lobster into it. The aroma of toasted rice mixed with the crustacean's savory scent made his mouth water.
"It's famous!"
The shopkeeper, an elderly woman in her 60s, chuckled. Having overheard their argument, she waved them over with a smile.
"There's no need to rush, children," she placated their squabbles. "Come, eat. I'll tell you the best way to explore the island."
As they munched on the snacks, the woman gave them a few tips. First, she suggested taking the escalators up the island and then following the paths toward the caves. From there, they could hike to the Love Bell and Candletop Garden at the top.
"At twilight, you'll have a clear view of Mt. Fuji from the observation deck. With the sunlight casting down on it, it would make for some fantastic photos."
Her suggestions sparked excitement in the group, and soon, their itinerary was set. As Mitsuhiko looked over the revised plan, he glanced up at the clear sky dotted with clouds that resembled cotton candy. They floated like castles above the sparkling sea, and Mitsuhiko couldn't help but admire the view.
"It must be like heaven, living here," Eri murmured, echoing his thoughts. She smiled, munching on the snack the woman had provided. Beside her, Yuki snapped a few photos with her digital camera.
"It's lovely," the woman nodded. "But we're still at the mercy of the great ocean."
Handing another rice cracker to Genta, she gestured toward the sky. "A few years ago, a tremendous storm nearly destroyed the island, and many fishermen lost their lives."
"That must have been terrible," Yuki whispered.
Noticing the group's darkening expressions, the woman chuckled.
"Oh, what's this old woman saying?" she grinned. "We rebuilt the town in no time. It's a reminder that nature is both powerful and beautiful."
"It can both give and take," Mai agreed.
"Exactly! So don't worry about it now. Enoshima thrives because of visitors like you. Go and enjoy yourselves!"
After bidding the woman goodbye, they headed for the escalators. Though it wasn't free, the ride to the top was quick. Excited about visiting the caves, Isamu raced ahead on the cobblestone paths and stairs, with Kenta close behind. The girls cursed at the boys' hyperactivity while Ayumi dragged Genta along, pulling at his shirt as he drooled over the steamed buns in nearby shops. Mitsuhiko chuckled at the sight, reminded of old times. Then he noticed Yuki eyeing a Mt. Fuji keychain at one of the stalls.
"Do you like it?" he asked, and she jumped in surprise. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she shook her head and hurried after Genta and Ayumi.
Mitsuhiko took the keychain, bought it, and rushed off to join the rest of the group.
Soon, they arrived at the caves, which were situated next to an inlet. White frothy waves crashed against turtle-shaped rocks nearby. Isamu started making monkey noises, his voice echoing down the narrow tunnels. Eri scolded him, but he ignored her. Eventually, a guard reprimanded them, and Isamu, displeased, folded his arms as they made their way deeper into the caves. However, his sour mood quickly lifted when he saw the dragon statue inside the cave.
The dragon was part of Enoshima's folklore—a five-headed beast named Gozuryu, tamed by the goddess Benzaiten. Gozuryu, madly in love with her, changed his wicked ways and lived benevolently until his death. When he died, his body became the foundation of the mountains and islands of Kamakura. It was a beautiful tale of love and redemption, but Isamu and Kenta marred its charm by reenacting a battle scene from a popular anime. The girls tried to stop them but had no success.
Eventually, they were kicked out, and the two boys hung their heads in shame as the girls scolded them. The nagging continued as they climbed to the top of Enoshima Hill.
Overlooking the magnificent sea and forest below, Aya stood before a bell, taking pictures and marveling at the hydrangeas dotting the green landscape. However, it was apparent to everyone that she had her eyes on Genta.
"Would you like to take a photo with me, Kojima-kun?"
Eri and Mai nudged Genta toward her, but he frowned. Sensing the awkwardness, his childhood friend broke up their antics by suggesting a group photo. Genta gathered everyone in front of the bell and asked Mitsuhiko to handle the camera. After the photo was taken, Aya pouted all the way to the candle-top observatory.
Neither her bad mood nor her two best friends glaring at Genta for his cluelessness seemed to help. Mitsuhiko couldn't really blame him; they were only fifteen, and romance wasn't on Genta's mind—not when he was helping Ayumi down the slippery steps, oblivious to everything happening around him.
But Mitsuhiko wasn't as clueless.
"Thanks, Mitsuhiko-kun," Yuki smiled as he helped her up.
"No problem, Yuki-chan."
Satisfied that Yuki wouldn't trip, Mitsuhiko was about to join her when he noticed his two childhood friends grinning impishly behind him.
"What?"
"I told you, Ayumi, he's really dense."
"I don't want to hear that from you."
"What do you mean?"
"You two," Ayumi shook her head. "Will be the death of me."
"Speak for yourselves," Mitsuhiko observed how Genta was still holding Ayumi's hand.
"Again," Genta raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
The trio sighed heavily and continued their walk down the hill.
So naive.
Mitsuhiko scoffed as he watched his two friends continue holding hands toward the candle-top garden.
The woman had been right—the views from the observatory were breathtaking. On such a clear day, even Mount Fuji could be seen on the horizon, bathed in a deep orange glow, like a scene from a holiday postcard. The dazzling view managed to lift Aya's spirits, and she began taking selfies with her smartphone.
Mitsuhiko did the same, adjusting his camera. The changing hues of gold, orange, and pink stirred memories of a bespectacled boy explaining the science of a sunset and a strawberry-blonde girl debating the accuracy of his facts. Their arguments always spiraled into long, drawn-out banter, ending in playful insults that had once amused Mitsuhiko. Though he hadn't understood it then, he did now. They were unique in a way that felt beyond his reach, and now—
"Mitsuhiko-kun?" A hand touched his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to see Yuki, her frown softening as her eyes met his. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, Yuki-chan," he forced a smile. "Have you taken any photos?"
He quickly changed the subject, and Yuki hesitated before stepping closer to show him the pictures she had taken.
"Amazing!" Mitsuhiko marveled at her photos. The angles and composition made them look like paintings—something you'd expect to see in an art museum. "You have real talent!"
Yuki had always mastered the use of light and shadows. "You should submit these to a competition. You could probably win!"
"Do you think so?"
"Absolutely!" Mitsuhiko exclaimed, and she beamed. It was one of her rare, demure smiles—gentle, like the woman in Monet's Lady with a Parasol. Sunlight streamed in through the glass windows, bathing her in golden rays, and without thinking, Mitsuhiko snapped a photo.
"Did you just…" Yuki muttered, blushing slightly, "Take a photo of me?"
"Uh…" Mitsuhiko stammered, startled by his unconscious action. He grew flustered. "I was just…" he faltered, unable to explain, and awkwardly reached into his pocket.
"Here," he shoved the keychain she'd been eyeing earlier into her hands.
"W-Why?"
"You seemed to like it, and it's…a reward," Mitsuhiko blurted out, "for the amazing photos you took. Consider it an early consolation prize."
Yuki's blush deepened, her lips parting slightly as she looked down at the keychain, gripping it tightly.
"It's thanks to you," she murmured.
"What?" Mitsuhiko blinked.
"Everything I've achieved…it's because of you."
"Oh," Mitsuhiko chuckled, "It's nothing. Besides, you've helped me a lot too."
"No, I…" Yuki fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, glancing up at him. She swallowed as he eyed her curiously.
"Yuki-chan?"
"Mitsuhiko-kun," she blurted out quickly, "I wanted to take a photo with you too."
"We can do that."
"No," Yuki stammered, "I mean… at the bell."
"What?"
"I wanted to take a photo with you…at the bell."
Mitsuhiko could hardly believe what he was hearing. His mouth fell open in surprise, his eyes widening as her words sank in. His heart began to race, and a warm feeling blossomed in his chest.
"Yuki…" he started, but before he could continue, a sharp, pungent smell hit them. Something was burning.
"Yuki-chan, get to safety!"
Thick black smoke was billowing from a nearby souvenir shop.
"Genta-kun! Ayumi-chan!" he called, and his childhood friends were immediately by his side. Mitsuhiko and Genta rushed toward the source of the smoke while Ayumi ran off to find someone in charge. Genta quickly overturned some shelves, searching for the source of the fire.
"Found it!" Genta shouted, and Mitsuhiko grabbed a fire extinguisher from the side. He tossed it to Genta, who caught it with ease.
Pulling the pin, Genta aimed the nozzle at the fire and pressed the handle. A thick, powdery cloud shot out from its nozzle, covering the burning area and the merchandise in a sludgy white foam.
"What happened?" Ayumi returned, accompanied by a man in a striped uniform—likely the cashier on duty.
"There was a fire," Mitsuhiko explained. "We need to cordon off the area and notify the authorities."
"W-What?" The cashier looked utterly overwhelmed.
"It could be an accidental fire, maybe an electrical fault," Mitsuhiko listed the possibilities. "But…"
He paused. There were no visible wires, and the fire had started in the potato chip section. It spread quickly, almost as if—
"Deliberate," Mitsuhiko muttered. "It might have been deliberate."
The cashier stumbled back, fumbling for his phone. Genta and Ayumi joined Mitsuhiko as he inspected the area.
"Deliberate?" Genta asked.
"Arson?" Ayumi added.
"Possibly," Mitsuhiko answered. "But we shouldn't speculate just yet."
Ayumi, always prepared, pulled a pair of rubber gloves from her bag and handed them to Mitsuhiko. Hanging out with Conan had influenced her. Mitsuhiko thanked her and carefully sifted through the pile of burnt chips, wiping away the white powder. Beneath the charred remains, he uncovered a strange contraption. It was nearly burnt through, but it still held its shape—a cigarette tied to three matchsticks, all wrapped in yellow paper and secured with a rubber band.
"What is that?" Ayumi frowned, and Mitsuhiko recalled something Conan had taught him.
"Ayumi, Genta, take photos of anyone lingering in the area…discreetly."
"Why?" Genta asked.
Mitsuhiko gestured to the contraption. "We might have an arsonist."
"You don't mean…" Ayumi's eyes widened. She studied the contraption, then nodded in understanding.
She quickly pulled out her phone and began snapping photos of the gathered crowd.
"Remember, Mitsuhiko," Conan had once told him, "for some people, this is a spectacle. They take pride in their work, and they don't hide. Look for those who seem too interested."
"We need to bag this for evidence," Genta pulled a plastic zip-lock bag from Ayumi's bag. "Should I call Satou-san?"
"Yes, that would be helpful," Mitsuhiko carefully placed the contraption into the bag. Just as he sealed it, a booming voice interrupted them.
"What are you kids doing?"
Two police officers strode over, glaring at them.
"Oh crap," Genta groaned as the officers closed in.
3 years after the takedown of the black organization:
Riker's Female Corrections Facility
It was the dead of night. Shadows crept across the ceiling like ghouls as Scout lay staring, counting the imperfections in the concrete. Her heart pounded in her chest, and Mayella's orders echoed like a devil's whisper in her ears.
Clutching tightly to the fork hidden beneath her sheets, she ran a thumb over its cold metal surface. Her eyes flicked toward the bunk above, where the soft rhythmic breaths and the occasional creak of the mattress told her that her target had returned. She had come back just in time for the routine roll call, climbing into bed after wishing Scout a good night.
Scout returned the greeting with forced calm, hiding the fork and gripping it as if it were her lifeline.
"Not yet," she told herself. "Not yet… wait."
It wasn't dark enough. The guards were still making their rounds. Scout could hear their heavy boots echoing on the hard floor, the rattle of gates, and the sharp sweeps of torchlights across the cells.
"Be still," she repeated the mantra that had carried her through the past year—the mantra born after the accident that had turned her world upside down. The crash. The trial. The conviction that led her here, to this dreaded place three months ago.
A car accident. Her victim had been a 50-year-old woman, now left without a leg. Drunk driving was a mistake Scout couldn't undo. She had been enraged, lost in a fog of alcohol after a brutal fight with her parents. In her blind recklessness, she had changed a life forever.
And, just like always, she had run from the consequences. Her old mantra, which she had relied on to shield herself, returned to her now.
"It will pass. It will be over soon. Just do it."
She had learned to hide behind those words, to bury the shame. They had protected her through years of bullying when she'd been locked in closets, drenched in sewage, and humiliated at her private boarding school. She blamed her parents for sending her there and abandoning her to the wolves.
College had been out of the question after that. Instead, she spiraled, seeking out empty pleasures to numb the pain. It all culminated in that last quarrel with her parents, the fight that had driven her to drink and, ultimately, to destroy someone else's life.
Scout squeezed her eyes shut, pushing those thoughts away. She focused on the fork in her hand.
She didn't want to suffer. Didn't want to be bullied or hurt again.
She had no choice. She had to do this.
To survive.
As the guards' footsteps faded into the distance, Scout threw off the covers, her body moving as though wading through sludge. She felt detached from herself as if her emotions had been switched off, leaving only the mechanical need to act.
She climbed the ladder to the top bunk, her heart pounding in her ears. There, her prey lay—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, breathing softly in sleep. Scout stared down, taking it all in. Then, with trembling hands, she raised the fork.
"You know what will happen, Scout," Mayella's voice hissed in her mind.
And she plunged the fork down.
Scout's eyes widened as a hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. Shiho glared at her from the shadows, shocking her out of the nightmare she had been trapped in.
"What are you trying to do?" Shiho hissed, struggling against Scout, who was still trying to drive the fork through.
Panic surged through Scout. She couldn't fail—not now. She would be killed if she did.
With a final, desperate push, the fork slammed into Shiho's wrist, stabbing through the fabric of the long sleeves she always wore. Blood spurted from the wound, running down Shiho's arm like a dark river. Scout gasped, releasing her grip on the fork. She looked at Shiho in disbelief, her mind reeling from what she had just done.
"No... no!" Scout stammered. "I didn't mean..." Her words trailed off as her eyes caught sight of Shiho's arm—scarred and crisscrossed with old wounds.
Shiho didn't flinch. She grabbed Scout and shoved her down into the lower bunk, forcing her under the covers.
"Quiet," Shiho ordered. Scout whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"I said," Shiho repeated sternly, "quiet."
Scout swallowed hard, her body tensing at Shiho's icy tone. The woman pulled the blankets over her and leaned close.
"You were asleep. Do you understand?"
"What?"
"You. Were. Sleeping," Shiho repeated firmly.
Still shaking, Scout closed her eyes tightly as heavy boots echoed down the corridor. An alarm blared, and the metal grate of the cell door slid open. Scout stayed hidden beneath her covers, trembling.
"What happened here?" Big Mama demanded. Her gaze landed on Shiho's bloodied wrist.
"My fault," Shiho said quietly, her tone suddenly different—soft, fragile, like a scared child. "I couldn't take it anymore."
"What? How?" Big Mama asked in disbelief. "Where did you get that fork?"
"I… I don't know," Shiho kept up the act.
"Shiho…" Big Mama eyed her suspiciously. "You know the consequences, don't you?"
"I know."
"Then why are you protecting—"
Shiho silenced her with a raised hand, covering Big Mama's mouth. "I did it. I need medical attention. I'll accept the punishment."
Big Mama hesitated, her gaze flickering between Shiho and the cowering Scout under the covers. After a long moment, she sighed heavily.
"Akai won't like this," Big Mama muttered.
"I know."
"Neither will your boyfriend."
"He'll have to live with it."
Big Mama sighed again, grabbing Shiho's arm. "We'll get you treated. For possessing and using a weapon, you'll be placed in solitary confinement for five days."
"I understand."
"Alright, let's go."
As the cell door clanged shut behind them, Shiho was led away. Scout finally emerged from beneath her sheets, her body numb and her mind reeling. She couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
Shiho had taken the blame. She had sacrificed herself to protect Scout. But why?
Solitary confinement.
The words echoed in Scout's mind, bringing back memories she had shared with Shiho.
"I got bullied in high school. They taunted me relentlessly, locked me in lockers, threw garbage on me... I was so scared. I could never go through that again. I'd rather…"
Scout had clenched her fists, her voice trembling as she had finished, "...die."
Shiho hadn't said anything in response at the time. She had only placed a comforting hand on Scout's shoulder. She had been grateful, but now—
The enormity of what Shiho had done hit her like a tidal wave. Shiho had known what solitary confinement would do to her, but she had taken the punishment anyway.
Scout slid to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably as guilt crushed her. Regret settled into her bones, suffocating her.
"I'm sorry," she choked out between sobs, "I'm so sorry."
5 years after the takedown of the black organization:
Enoshima
"Ah, ah," Botan Hashi-san, a pot-bellied officer whose arrogance seemed to match his waistline, sneered as he surveyed the damage. He clicked his tongue, his disapproval thick in the air as he scribbled notes in his worn notebook. "Look at what you've done."
Ayumi bit her lip, struggling to hold back the simmering anger that was her childhood friends, who stood fuming beside her.
"What do you mean we ruined the evidence?" Mitsuhiko, usually the calm one, snapped. "If Genta-kun didn't help put out the fire, there wouldn't be anything left to save!"
Botan's partner, Minoru Kadano, a thin, seedy man with an ever-present scowl, emerged behind a broken shelf. "You could have alerted the professionals first," his tone oozing with condescension.
"We did! We just acted first!" Genta protested.
"Yes, and look at what you've done," the cashier moaned, clutching his hair as if he might tear it out in despair.
Botan ignored Genta's outburst, continuing to jot notes. "This is the third small fire this month," he muttered, irritation mounting as he scribbled in his notebook. "And now I have to file a full report."
Ayumi could sense the brewing storm in Mitsuhiko and Genta. She stepped between them and the officers, trying to calm the boys.
"You're just children," Botan sneered. "You could've called for help instead of damaging the scene."
Minoru nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowing. "You may have tampered with evidence."
"Look at the merchandise!" the cashier joined the chorus of complaints. "Everything is ruined!"
Ayumi heard her friends grumbling behind her. She turned to face the officers, trying to keep her own frustration in check.
"They were helping," her voice trembling with restraint. "They stopped the fire from spreading."
"Maybe," Minoru conceded, "but something could have gone wrong. You should always call for professionals."
"But—"
"No buts," Botan cut her off. "Give us your teacher's number. Maybe they can teach you kids a lesson in responsibility."
Before Ayumi could respond, a sharp voice sliced through the air. "What exactly would you like their teacher to teach?"
Everyone turned to see an old woman approaching, her hunched frame supported by a walking stick. Despite her frail appearance, there was an undeniable steeliness in her eyes that commanded respect.
Botan blinked in surprise, then regained his composure. "Madam, we—"
"Would you rather the boys stood around while the shop burned to the ground?" her tone a mix of scorn and rebuke. She turned to the cashier. "Or would you have preferred they run while your customers were in danger?"
The cashier stammered.
"With all due respect, madam, the professionals should handle these things," Botan puffs up his chest as if that would reinforce his argument.
"Oh?" The old woman raised an eyebrow. "And officers such as yourselves count as professionals?"
Botan nodded, trying to maintain his dignity. "Yes, madam. We are professionals."
"Then tell me," the old woman quipped, a smirk playing on her lips, "where were you when the fire started?"
The officers hesitated.
"Were you eating?" she asked, eyeing Botan's round belly with disdain. "Or perhaps rolling down a hill?"
"Okaa-san!" A man in his forties hurried toward her, panting as he reached her side. He had graying hair, thick brown glasses, and a flustered expression. "That's rude!"
The old woman gave him a withering look. "Am I wrong?"
"No, but," the man huffed, trying to catch his breath, "I told you to stop picking fights with people at your age."
"I wasn't picking a fight. I was stating a fact."
"Just because they're incompetent doesn't mean you should insult them."
"It's not an insult if it's true," she shot back. "How do you expect men like these to catch a thief, let alone put out a fire?"
"Okaa-san…"
Botan, visibly upset, puffed out his chest again. "I assure you, madam, we could have handled the situation if we'd been notified in time."
"And how, pray tell, would you have done that?"
Losing his patience, Minoru snapped, "By using the fire extinguisher!"
The old woman's eyes twinkled with amusement as she tilted her head. "Which would have made the same mess, wouldn't it?"
A heavy silence fell over the group as the two officers glowered at her, clearly outmatched in the verbal sparring.
"Now," the old woman continued, her voice soft but laced with authority, "wouldn't you agree that the children did an excellent job containing the fire? This old body might have been nothing but ash by now without their quick thinking."
Botan opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. He grunted, casting a sideways glance at his partner. "Have a nice day, madam," he muttered before turning to leave.
Minoru followed suit, and the cashier, looking utterly defeated, was left alone to deal with the formidable old woman.
"What do you say to these kids, young man?" the old woman chided.
The man bowed deeply, his face flushed with shame. "I'm sorry."
"And?" she prompted, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
"Thank you…" he stammered, visibly embarrassed.
"Okaa-san, seriously," her son sighed, clearly used to her strong personality. But she waved him off, focusing instead on Genta and Mitsuhiko. She took each of their hands in her own, shaking them firmly.
"Thank you very much for putting out the fire. You were brave and knowledgeable. No one could've done it better."
As soon as her words left her mouth, cheers erupted from the gathered crowd. Ayumi beamed, her heart swelling with pride. It was rare for adults to be so openly appreciative of their efforts, let alone stand up for them in front of the police. Genta and Mitsuhiko grinned from ear to ear, thanking the old woman and her son profusely.
"Oh, no, no," Hayate, the son, laughed, his eyes crinkling warmly. "It's the least we can do. Let's get you all some ice cream."
A short while later, they found themselves standing near a cozy cafe across from the crime scene, each of them holding ice cream cones courtesy of Hayate. The cashier, still humbled by Izu Kamiya's stern insistence, had reluctantly agreed to give the treats for free.
"So, what brought you here today, Kamiya-san?" Emi asked as the group enjoyed their ice cream, watching the ocean's gentle waves in the distance.
"Okaa-san insisted on coming out," Hayate explained. "She wanted to watch the sunset over Mount Fuji. We live nearby, and this seemed like the perfect spot."
"Hayate always fusses over me. But who would've thought we'd stumble upon a fire while enjoying the view."
"That's why I told you it was better to stay home," Izu quipped, half-joking.
"It's not good for you to stay cooped up all the time. Besides, if you hadn't come out, you wouldn't have met such brave young people," Hayate replied, winking at Genta and Mitsuhiko.
The conversation carried on pleasantly, with the mother and son sharing stories of their love for the seaside while the kids listened eagerly. But Ayumi noticed that Mitsuhiko had grown quiet, focusing on something else. He was staring intently at the photographs of the strange contraption found at the scene—three matches tied to a cigarette and yellow paper.
"Any idea what it could be?" Ayumi asked, leaning closer.
Mitsuhiko shook his head slowly. "I can't shake the feeling this wasn't the culprit's first time."
"The culprit just left it there to burn?"
"Yeah, and it seems more sophisticated than just a random fire."
"I've seen something like this before," Yuki's gaze was trained on the image. "It was in a documentary about a serial arsonist in America."
"You've seen this setup before?" Genta remarked.
Yuki nodded.
"It's a delayed fire starter. The cigarette burns down slowly, and when it reaches the matches, it ignites them. The matches then burn through the yellow paper—probably soaked in something flammable—and that's when the fire starts."
Mitsuhiko's eyes widened in realization. "So, it's like a timed fire. The cigarette burns for a while, giving the arsonist time to leave before it all goes up in flames."
"Exactly," Yuki confirmed.
"We've gotta share this with those policemen!" Ayumi stated.
Mitsuhiko, still bitter from their earlier encounter with Botan and Minoru, muttered under his breath, "What makes you think they'll listen to us now?"
"Then what should we do?" Yuki asked.
Genta's face lit up with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with determination. He looked at both Ayumi and Mitsuhiko, who began to catch on to him.
"We do this our way." Genta pumped his fist into the air. "The Detective Boys are back in action!"
3 years after the takedown of the black organization:
Riker's Female Corrections Facility
Drip. Drip.
Water droplets from a malfunctioning pipe fell onto the concrete floor. It was dark, and a stench lingered in the air—musky, moldy, heavy, and dense, like a toxic cloud, like a basement.
Shiho sat beside the stale mattress on the wet floor, brutal, and unforgiving. The wound on her wrist was bandaged, but it still throbbed. Trying to stay calm, she counted each throb, resting her chin on her knees as she stared into the abyss.
"Why did you take the fall?" Big Mama, also known as Maxine Woods, stated. The woman was displeased with the developing situation. A well-known associate of Akai, she had promised to protect Shiho while she served her time. Maxine was 40 years old, married despite her looks, and had a lovely husband. She had two kids, a boy and a girl, both 10 years old. She often delighted in showing Shiho pictures of them.
Few knew this softer side of Maxine. In prison, she was a strict, no-nonsense guard, and she had to maintain that role under the watchful eyes of her superiors. The other guards did not take kindly to the special treatment Shiho occasionally received.
Maxine gave Shiho a light squeeze on the shoulder.
"I'll see what I can do," she whispered when her superiors turned away. "Maybe I can shorten the punishment."
"Could you ensure that meddling idiot doesn't learn about this?"
"I promise nothing. You know nothing escapes the ears of that great hound dog."
Shiho could only groan as she was ushered into the isolation chamber.
Time had no meaning here. Nothing happened—though this banal punishment was enough to drive even the toughest criminals to tears. Sitting alone with her thoughts was a different kind of torture, one that Shiho wouldn't wish on anyone.
"And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."
The quote from Nietzsche describes the darkness around her as an endless swirling pit. There were no sounds, light, or communication—just the forbidding dark that stretched into liminal space that turned into eternity.
Shiho picked at her bandages to seek comfort, grateful for the slight stinging sensation. It brought her back to the present, and she began to count again, feeling the throbs, her heart beating slowly in her rib cage, affirming that she was still alive.
Why was she here?
She had asked herself many times. Shiho could have accepted the plea deal, could have gone on with her life without serving jail time. But as the enormity of what she had done slammed into her, the answers to her future grew less clear.
The dark morphed into whispers—memories she would rather forget. After the takedown of the organization, news splashed across many screens, exposing her involvement—her crimes. The public would not let it go. A mock trial was set up, and an anvil hammered against a wooden board. Her verdict was handed down.
"Five years," the judge stated—a mere five years for the concealment of dead bodies. Too short a sentence for what she had done.
Shinichi had been furious with the verdict, blaming it on Akai and the incompetence of the FBI.
"She helped with the operation, and you guys want to punish her!" he had shouted at the man, who was equally at a loss. They had forgiven her, but Shiho knew better. Others still blamed her—others who could not see her as anything but a monster.
They cried out in injustice at her freedom, at her ability to get another chance when the people she had doomed did not. "You need not accept the verdict," Akai had told her after the sentencing. The FBI agent had negotiated with his superiors. He, too, was against the judgment that had been passed. "That was just a formality, and you would be excused privately for your services."
Shiho had stewed over his words for weeks. It didn't feel right. The weight of what she had done was catching up to her. Shiho didn't know if she was strong enough. Wallowing in guilt and misery, a visit from a grown man shaped her decision.
He was an adult but still bore a chubby, childlike face with a smile that shone as bright as Akemi's.
He greeted her in Spanish, and she was stunned by his appearance. She had thought him dead—killed by Gin despite the choice she had been forced to make. But here he stood, whole and well, married.
"We met four years ago," he bragged. "She has the cutest smile, and she's sweet."
He gushed over his wife's looks and personality, utterly smitten. Shiho could only marvel at the fact that he had managed to escape the organization.
"Earth to Satsuki," he started when he noticed her dissociating.
"It's Shiho."
"Oh…that's your real name?"
"Yes," she replied with a smirk. "Miyano Shiho. I figured you'd want to know."
Daniel chuckled nervously, running his hand through his hair.
"I wouldn't say I didn't think about it."
"So," Shiho swallowed tentatively, "why are you here?"
There was a profound silence. The air was thick with unanswered questions that hung between them like a tightly wound spring, ready to burst at any second.
"About Mr. Tetsuo?"
"He was Ryuusuke Egawa." Shiho bowed her head, gripping her hands tightly as she forced the words out. "He was my handler, and when they found out he was an undercover agent…"
"They disposed of him?" Daniel confirmed.
"Now you know."
"Now I know."
Shiho couldn't bear the weight of his words or fathom the choice that had nearly torn her psyche apart. She could not rid herself of the sad, blank gaze of Ryuu-san when Gin had violated her in that dreaded basement. She held back a sob, breathing sharply, and flinched when a hand wrapped around her own.
"Sorry, but may I?" Daniel started, squeezing an item into her grip. "I won't say I wasn't angry. I was." Shiho stiffened at his words. "But more so…at myself."
"Daniel?"
"After you left, I tried to contact you. I went to the house multiple times. Apparently, that made me a target."
"Did they—"
"No," Daniel interjected before she could speculate. "No, the FBI intervened before they could. My family and I were placed on the FBI protection list. We were given new names and identities."
"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that."
"I know you blame yourself," Daniel squeezed her hand tighter. "But Shiho, it wasn't that bad. It was exciting, something new. And though it can sometimes be annoying, I'm alive because of it."
"But—"
"I heard about what happened. About the choice you had to make."
"That was…" Shiho let out a shuddering breath. "Not your fault."
"Neither was it yours." Daniel released his hold on her, and she found herself gripping a keychain he had given her many years ago.
"Thank you," he beamed. "Thank you for saving me. For not giving up. For not surrendering me to that monster. For not running away when you had the chance."
His smile was bright, reminiscent of their first interaction.
"No matter what others say, you're my hero, Shiho," He gestured to his gift. "My first friend."
His words reverberated in her mind, and a soft smile graced her lips.
"You're not alone anymore," Ran had told her.
She clutched the golden locket hanging from her neck.
"Don't run away," a bespectacled boy had told her on that fateful day. "Don't run away from your fate."
His words gave her the courage she needed, and she made her decision.
He wasn't happy with it, but he accepted it. And, like always, he stayed with her, keeping his promise.
As the darkness continued to surround her, Shiho's hands wrapped tightly around the locket he had given her. Memories of Gin, of past abuses, of her sins and crimes, of guilt—replaced by joy and laughter. Memories of children, Ran, the professor—of new beginnings.
Shinichi.
She would face her punishment. She would not run away, and—
They were waiting.
He was waiting.
It was more than she could ask for.
3 years after the takedown of the black organization:
Riker's Female Corrections Facility
Why?
Why did she do it?
The thought plagued Scout as she lay on the ground of the canteen. Blood dripped from her nose. Her face, arms, legs, and chest—all of it hurt.
But still—
It didn't hurt as much as the guilt in her chest. Whenever she thought about the strawberry blonde, her cowardice was laid bare, a painful reminder of her crime. It had been a rainy night, puddles forming on the asphalt that reflected the pink and yellow neon signs of the bar. She had been dressed in a risky one-piece, a low-cut skirt barely reaching her knees. Her friend, an insignificant man she met in the bar, had told her she looked like a hooker.
"Want to find out?" she had teased, luring him in. The night ended with her running out of his house, vomiting on his lawn in a drunken stupor. Then, she proceeded to drive. The accident happened soon after. The victim was severely injured and transferred to the hospital. Later, Scout learned that the victim had lost the use of her legs.
The verdict was handed down, and despite their strained relationship, her parents still showed up. Tearful, they offered words of comfort, but to Scout, their words meant nothing. The guilt of what she had done rendered her immobile, and she shunned the victim who had reached out to her on multiple occasions.
She could not bear it. She did not want to face it.
But Shiho Miyano was different. The woman seemed to have the answers Scout desperately sought. In this confusing mix of feelings, Scout made a split-second, out-of-character decision.
"I'll give you another chance, pip-squeak," Mayella had threatened her after the rumor regarding Shiho's attempted suicide spread. The gossip masked the truth of what had happened and the task Mayella had bestowed upon the newbie.
"I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself," Mayella whispered, "but if you fail one more time… well, there will be hell to pay."
With her heart racing, Scout turned to face the woman with a defiant stare.
"No."
Mayella, despite her short stature, towered over her. Her glare sent chills down Scout's spine.
"What do you mean by that?"
"The answer is no," Scout replied, clenching her trembling fist and facing the woman with equal ferocity. "It's clear, isn't it?"
The punch came immediately. Mayella, having the self-control of a toddler, was on her like a storm. She screeched like a petulant child unused to rejection. Scout held her back as the blows rained down. Pain rang in her ears, and she felt her nose break under the impact. When she came to, she found herself staring at the blurry visage of Big Mama, who was supporting her weight as she carried her down the corridors toward the infirmary.
Sliding open the doors, Scout gasped at the sight of the strawberry blonde prepping first aid. Big Mama lowered Scout into a chair, and she winced as Shiho turned to face her. The woman appeared haggard; dark circles under her eyes suggested she had been through a beating herself. The five days in solitary confinement had not been kind to her.
"S…Shiho," Scout stiffened, wanting to run away, but Shiho stopped her, forcing her back into the seat. To Scout's bewilderment, the woman began to treat her wounds. Shiho dabbed cotton buds over the bleeding cuts.
"Thanks to you," Big Mama chuckled, eyeing Shiho, "we have enough evidence to put Mayella away for good."
The strawberry blonde simply snorted.
"Thanks to that grim reaper, you mean. I hardly did anything except procure the evidence."
"You'd still help. At least take credit when it's due."
Shiho waved the woman away, and Big Mama exited the room, shaking her head. Now alone, Scout tensed as Shiho wrapped bandages around her arm. The woman was gentle and meticulous, and when she finished, the sharp pain Scout had felt diminished into a soft throb.
"Why?" Scout whispered. The questions bubbled from her lips before she could stop them. "Why did you help me? Don't you know the weak get gobbled up? That's simply the rule of this world."
Shiho looked at her before smiling ironically.
"I used to think the same," she slaps another bandage over Scout's nose. "The universe is indeed a cruel place. I won't deny it. But it is also infinite, and because it is, there are possibilities we have yet to discover."
"Someone once told me to face up to my sins. Another taught me that a little courage goes a long way. Scout," Shiho flicked her forehead, "your world might tell you otherwise, but you need not be a slave to it."
Scout leaned back, and for hours after being dismissed from the infirmary, she reflected on Shiho's words. She then pulled out a letter from under a pillow. It had been sent by Denise Williams, a woman she could not face, whom she had hurt. But now—
Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and—
Opened it.
5 years after the takedown of the black organization:
Enoshima
Exhausted and thoroughly spent from the hectic day, Ayumi stood by the platform of the Old Enoshima station, waiting for the train.
"Thanks, Yuki-chan," she remarked, accepting the bottle of iced green tea from her friend. They sat in silence as an orange glow enveloped the station. The sun was still setting, a golden orb sinking into the ocean, staining the sky with brilliant hues of pink and gold. Stunning as it was, Ayumi had other matters weighing on her mind.
Mitsuhiko was adamant that the fire had been deliberate. Yuki, too, had extensive knowledge of the contraptions involved. After much discussion, they decided to dig deeper into the subject. Sighing at the loss of what should have been a relaxing school trip, Ayumi gazed out at the ocean, watching as frolicking waves crashed against the sandy shore.
They could never catch a break, could they? Ever since their encounter with a bespectacled boy, it seemed that his curse had infected them, too.
A fond smile crossed her face as she recalled the memories. Her gaze fell upon a giggling teenage girl standing too close to Genta—Aya Minato. It was no secret that Aya was openly hostile toward Ayumi. Though they were mostly unsuccessful, she often found ways to pick fights; Ayumi usually paid no heed to her taunts. However, Aya's recent attempt had stung.
The incident had been kept from them, and any attempts to learn more had been thwarted by Ran, the professor, and the inspectors. The mystery deepened further when Ai-chan and Conan-kun vanished. Letters occasionally arrived, penned by the boy, but always left the children unsatisfied.
A few months after their disappearance, discouraged and plagued by nightmares, Ayumi had refused to leave her house. During those dark times, Genta had climbed through her window, declaring that the Detective Boys had a new mission. With renewed vigor, he insisted they find their two missing friends.
It gave them purpose, and Genta was adamant that they would succeed. Slowly, the painful memories grew more bearable, and they soldiered on in their missions. Though unfortunately, their friends remained nowhere to be found.
"Are you ok?" Genta placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly. The firmness of his touch eased the heaviness lingering in her chest.
"I'm fine," she replied as he pulled her closer, giving her a side hug.
"Tell me if you aren't." He grinned, his white teeth gleaming, and Ayumi couldn't help but blush. She had to admit Genta had grown leaner and taller over the years. Since they were so close, she hadn't noticed until Maria pointed it out one day. Apparently, many girls in their class had crushes on him.
Perplexed by such a notion, Ayumi's perception of the boy she had always thought of as a brother began to shift. She attributed it to hormones, refusing to think much of it. Puberty was said to be a difficult stage of growing up, but the more she noticed Genta, the harder it became to dismiss the change.
"You shouldn't be hugging me like this," Ayumi sighed, prying him off her as she noticed Aya's darkening expression.
"Why?" Genta frowned.
"Because others might target her," Yuki remarked softly. The girl was sharper than Genta, who seemed oblivious.
"Why?" Genta asked again, and Mitsuhiko let out an irritated tut before shoving them into the train that had just arrived.
"You can figure it out later, you baboon. Now, let's hurry."
Genta's frown deepened as they stepped into the carriage. Soon, the train became crowded, and Ayumi gave up her seat to an old man who thanked her. Genta caught her as the train jerked forward.
"Careful there."
"My bad, thanks, Genta-kun—" She paused, sharing a glance at him. A sharp stench filled the air—an all too familiar aroma of something…
"Fire!"
Alarm broke out, and everyone scrambled away from a blaze that had erupted in front of the carriage. The train lurched violently, and passengers screamed as they tumbled to the ground. Thick smoke began to fill the carriage, stinging their eyes and making them water. What had started as a small fire was rapidly growing. The heat from the flames licked their sensitive skin.
"Out!" Mitsuhiko shouted, pulling the emergency lever on the doors. The train came to a forceful stop once again. Ayumi stumbled, landing painfully on the ground with a moan. Genta was quick to help her up.
"Let's go!" he shouted urgently as they scrambled through the chaos of other passengers rushing for the exits. Ayumi found herself wedged between men and women and tripped. Genta caught her, pulling her out of the train carriage just in time.
"Hurry, everybody out!" Mitsuhiko shouted, standing by the exit doors of the carriage and helping a few elderly passengers who were struggling to step onto the tracks.
"Don't stay too close!" a passenger warned as a the glass windows shattered, sending debris raining down.
"Somebody call the authorities!"
"Is everyone here?" Yuki asked, scanning the area. Ayumi turned to check. Isamu, Kenta, Eri, Mai… Her heart sank as she looked back at the burning carriage billowing thick gray smoke. There, wedged between crumbling seats, was—
"Aya!" Mai screamed, about to rush forward but was held back by Eri.
"Aya!" they cried in unison, and Ayumi dashed forward without a second thought.
"Ayumi!" Genta shouted, chasing after her. Ayumi climbed into the burning carriage, wincing as the heat engulfed her. Genta and Mitsuhiko scrambled in after her, with Genta grabbing her arm.
"You idiot!" he shouted.
"There's no time for this! Aya-chan is trapped!" Ayumi motioned to the last place she had seen Aya.
"Look out!" Mitsuhiko yelled, and Genta pulled them down as flames rushed overhead, scorching the air and causing another seat to crumble.
"Aya-chan!" Ayumi scrambled to her feet, her eyes scanning the chaos. She spotted Aya cowering behind broken seats, which had melted together in the fire's heat. The girl was squatting, rocking back and forth in terror. The flames hadn't reached her yet, but the smoke was thickening, and Ayumi felt the burning in her throat.
"We need something to pry those apart!" Mitsuhiko shouted, his eyes watering from the heat. Genta rushed forward, grasping a metal pole glowing from the fire's heat, his hands burnt.
"Help me, Mitsuhiko!" he commanded. The freckled boy rushed to assist, wincing as he grabbed the pole. Together, they jammed it into the melted seats. Ayumi joined them, but the hot metal seared her palms, making her cry out in pain.
"Ayumi!"
"Ayumi-chan!"
"I'm fine! Just pull!" she shouted. The boys did as they were told, but their efforts were in vain. The chairs were fused, locked in a twisted position.
"Come on, please," Ayumi whispered, her gaze fixed on Aya, who was now crying, panic evident in her eyes. The fire was growing, licking the ceiling of the carriage, and black, grayish smoke surged from the flames. Ayumi felt herself growing faint.
Please.
She pleaded silently.
Please, if there is a God out there…
She pulled desperately as her childhood friends yelled in terror. There was no one to save them.
"Conan-kun… Ai-chan…"
Another wave of smoke engulfed them, and then—
"Kojima-kun!"
"Mitsuhiko-kun!"
"Aya-san!"
"Ayumi!"
Darkness.
Phew, finally, I was able to take time out of my busy schedule and edit this. Hopefully, the next chapter wouldn't take too long. It is in the works, and I apologize for the long wait. Again, I would like to thank everyone for their kind words and review. I hope this chapter finds you well.