Murder Broods
folder
+. to F › Detective Conan/Case Closed
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
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Category:
+. to F › Detective Conan/Case Closed
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
2,594
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own CaseClosed/Detective Conan Manga/Anime, Gosho Aoyama does. This is a not for profit, fan-derived work of fiction
Shades of Memory
Murder Broods:
Chapter 8: Shades of Memory
Her silver blonde hair drying slowly in the damp night air, Hakami blended into the crowds of passerby on Tokyo’s busy city streets; the Syndicate’s tracers and provided cell-phone discarded at the Hotel -- she glanced back as the ambulance siren whined through the night air, shrill even as it died away in the distance.
“Troy…still alive?” Hakami wrapped her fingers around the specialized cell-phone in her coat pocket; she swallowed, her eyes hidden by the strands of blonde hair falling from behind her ears.
She exhaled and turned down an alley, the damp night air turning chill as the wind picked up; when shadow swallowed her from sight she took out the cell-phone in her pocket, its screen black with number sequences in white.
Looking over the numbers with indifference, she pressed 3 thrice, and the display of a normal cell-phone appeared. It glowed and beeped, revealing a message of one missed call.
The glow illuminated her face, her eyes gazing over the coded word Fortunato: Troy’s number beneath it.
“He’s alive….” She flipped shut the phone, eyes straying to the high horizon line, the shadows drowned out her expression.
0
In a neighboring hotel, Conan paced the floor of an unoccupied room waiting for Jodie and James to return from talking with the police; Hakami’s words echoed in his thoughts, how easily his name rolled from her lips.
‘…and I never forget a face, Kudo….’
“She knows, but does that mean the Syndicate….damn….ah.” He gasped as the rest of her words sunk in, even her reference to the Sherlock Holmes story. “Elementary school? She recognized me from that….but that….that would make her only 16.…and….” Images from the past floated into his consciousness.
The short, silver blonde haired transferred student stood by the tree, not talking, keeping away from the other kids. Her hair in braids tied with ribbons, she stared down anyone who approached her.
Shinichi kicked around a soccer ball as recess continued, glancing now and then at the transfer student with lukewarm interest.
“Shinichi, don’t you think Saya Kurosawa-san looks lonely?” Ran stood next to Shinichi, her saddened eyes watching the transfer student. “It’s been two days, and she hasn’t made any friends….”
“Geez…that’s because she ignores everyone who approaches her. She might just want to be left alone….” He saw Ran shake her head and move toward the transfer student; he held the soccer ball under his arm and waited as Ran greeted the transfer student.
He expected Ran to be shooed away, but after a few minutes Ran instead sat next to the transfer student, a big smile on her face -- the transfer student turned to Ran seemingly interested for the first time in two days and sat down as well.
“How…? Ran….”
Conan leaned over the table, his insides shaking as the rest of the memories rushed back; the appearance of Hakami tonight resonated with his memory of the young transfer student -- the transfer student who disappeared after a few months.
“Saya Kurosawa….I….wait, Kurosawa? I’ve seen that name somewhere else, but where….”
The door opened and shut, in midst of his words; he turned to see Jodie approaching him only to glance back and pause: James stared down at Conan with wide eyes, his lips mouthing the name Saya. Conan swallowed, his blood pumping to his arms, legs, and gut, his eyes focused on the older FBI agent; the noise of shuffled feet behind the agent drew his attention away.
Conan’s eyes widened as he saw Haibara staring at him, her head covered with the hood of her coat. Her shocked expression lasted another second before she turned away, walking toward the far wall away from the windows, and sitting down on a wooden desk chair.
‘Haibara….’
“James, what is it? What…?”
“Saya…that name Conan just mentioned -- Saya was the name of Toni’s daughter, Troy’s stepdaughter.” James pulled at the collar of his suit and stared at the room window before closing his eyes. He sighed and then opened them again. “The bomber at the hotel, she’s grown, but I’m certain it was Saya.”
“Saya….that….” Conan’s memory of the transfer student jumped vividly in front of his thoughts. ‘She was so shy, nice…what happened to….’
“But Conan-kun, how do you know that name? Where did you….” James and Jodie stared at the young detective while Haibara glanced at him but quickly looked away.
“Ten years ago…Saya Kurosawa transferred into the same 1st grade class I attended. A few months later she vanished.” Conan stared at the floor, his eyes shadowed; he clenched his fist before his next words. “She recognized me at the hotel, before you and James showed up in that hallway. She knows I’m Shinichi Kudo.”
“God! If she knows, then the Syndicate….” Haibara leaped to her feet, rushing to Conan as panic set in her gut. “The Syndicate….”
Conan shook his head, and brought his hand to his forehead at the sudden stab of pain; he turned to Haibara the next moment.
“The Syndicate wouldn’t bother sending a spy to investigate Mouri-ojisan if they knew who I was….they’d come straight for me. And now that Hakami’s identity as the hacker/bomber is known to them they’ll target her….unless….”
0
Vodka and Vermouth hung back in the shadows as Gin sat by the curtained window, his face darkened, eyes concealed by the strands of silver blond hair hanging down in front. Neither approached him as Gin wiped down his Beretta, checking the ammunition -- his presence so intense that silence seemed forced upon every inch of the room.
The click of the Beretta broke the silence; Vermouth and Vodka watched Gin pocket his weapon, and the videotape on the table after a swift glance over its plastic covering.
“Gin, about Absinthe….” Vermouth approached as Gin stood up; she faltered at his glare, the coldness in his eyes harsher than normal. She shivered.
“Not another word, Vermouth. Absinthe will make her next move in due time and I’ll be ready for it. It’s Troy who needs to be dealt with….”
“A retired CIA agent over a traitor?” Vermouth closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Her bemused half-smile faded as Gin walked passed her. “Gin, what are you hiding? What is on that tape?”
“Aniki….” Vodka approached Gin’s side, his eyes behind his sunglasses flitting from Vermouth to Gin, the silent rage in his partner apparent to him; his chest went cold and he bit back his words. Gin ignored them both and continued to the door.
“Besides Absinthe looking an awful lot like Toni, what else is there about her that stops you from dealing with that traitor?” Vermouth’s lips twisted into another bemused smile as Gin halted at the door. “Just the similar appearance wouldn’t stop you, you dealt with Toni promptly 10 years ago…along with Saya….”
“Vermouth!” Gin snarled, glaring at her as he swiftly turned around; his hand in his pocket clenched tightly around the Beretta. The anger smoldering on his face, the snarl etched into his eyes and lips.
Vermouth inhaled sharply and stepped back at the bite of his reproaching glare. Her eyes widened, the words clogged in her throat; ten seconds passed with a swallow and a breath.
“Gin….is Absinthe…Saya?”
“Vermouth….” Gin’s eyes held a deadly glint, his anger virulent simmering beneath the point of control. “Don’t ever say her name.”
The silence of the room filled the air with thick waves, Gin and Vermouth facing each other as Vodka fidgeted uncomfortably and swallowed a few times. His eyes locked on Gin, his pulse pounding seeing his partner’s venomous and cold expression; the silence suffocating in the verbal deadlock.
“Aniki….if Absinthe is your daughter Saya” Vodka’s voice echoed in the silence; he halted when Gin glared at him, but his partner turned and left the room without another word, his footsteps gradually fading.
“Hm,” Vermouth loosened her crossed arms and let them fall to her sides; her lips curled in amusement. “To think Absinthe is Saya…that Saya survived….”
“….Vermouth….”
“How did she survive though? Gin was ordered to kill both Toni and Saya….even ten years ago Gin was cutthroat enough to shoot his ex-lover and her child…his own daughter….” Vermouth closed her eyes and breathed in and out, her expression calm and interested; she frowned when Vodka started out the door. “Vodka, there’s nothing you….”
“If ‘that person’ finds out that Saya lived, that Aniki failed to kill her when ordered….”
“That won’t be an issue….if Saya’s the hacker she’s more valuable alive…being able to hack the security programs her mother developed for the Syndicate….”
“But Toni was an undercover FBI….”
“…who was about to defect to the Syndicate before being betrayed herself…a fact ‘that person’ found out only after her death.” Vermouth brought her hand to her lips, her eyes widening in thought. ‘But why did Toni want to defect in the first place….’
0
Troy limped along the asphalt parking lot, his wounds excruciating yet he succeeded in avoiding the police as he left the hotel; he leaned against a dark blue sedan before opening the door and collapsing into the driver’s seat. He slammed his fists against the steering wheel, his face wrinkled with rage.
“That she’d….Saya, you…I tried to make amends….” He leaned back in the seat, the split-second memory of the explosion flashed through his thoughts.
‘The bomb he’d just planted beeped, spelling A M 0 N T 1 L L A D 0 on its LCD screen, his heart jumped as his legs pushed him away; the next moment the explosive detonated.’
“That it’d come to this…Toni, you’ll get your wish….your daughter….” Troy spread his fingers out in front of him, they trembled and his eyes settled on his missing left ring finger. “Toni….”
Coal black eyes widened on a pale face, the next moment narrowing as the woman’s head shook; her pitch-black hair swayed as her hand wrinkled a photograph in its grip.
“How could you…how….” Toni glared at the photograph crushed in her fist, then at Troy in front of her. Her eyes glinted as she shook her fist at Troy, watching the man step back.
“Calm down, Toni. Don’t overreact….” Troy raised his arms in front of him in a defensive gesture.
“Overreact?! I trusted you, and you….” She tore up the photograph, her lips twisted in disgust; she held her head in her hands, the golden wedding band shined in the overhead light. Troy stepped forward and grabbed Toni by the shoulders, she flinched at the touch of his strong hands.
“It…it isn’t what it seems….I mean….”
Toni slapped his arms away, her expression enraged, face heated with anger and disbelief. “Not what it seems? You…you’re worse than Gin! Worse than Saya’s own father!”
“Worse than that cutthroat?! Toni, that’s too far, that….”
“Too far?! You…all Gin did was teach Saya how to load and fire a gun….and not the kind of ‘gun’ you tried to according to that photo! You disgusting…pedophile!”
Troy grabbed Toni’s arms again, his heart thumping against his ribs; he gritted his teeth at Toni’s kick to his groin, inhaling sharply but keeping a firm grip. The next second Toni rendered his left arm immobile by pressing specific pressure points along the arm; she pushed him against the wall.
“You….”
Troy flinched as Toni pressed her knee against his left arm, breaking the bone with a gut-wrenching crack; he barely saw the glimpse of metal as she brought the knife to his left hand. The sudden pain venomous through his veins, he punched her in the gut, standing and gripping his wounded hand as she crashed into the wall.
Toni returned to her feet wobbly, Troy’s severed ring finger in her hand, along with her own wedding and engagement rings. She threw them at Troy before sliding back to her knees, her cheeks glossy with tears.
“Leave. Get the hell out. I never want to see your face again.”
“Toni….”
“…my daughter…you touched her…you…your pedophile hands….” Toni gasped and coughed as she bit back a sob, her chest heaving, hands trembling. “I didn’t give birth to Saya for her to become a killer or a sexual-toy. But if I have to choose…I’d rather she’d be a killer….or dead.” Toni sobbed, huddled against the wall, trembling as Troy left the apartment.
Troy leaned over the steering wheel, the cuts on his cheeks bleeding, mixing their red with the sweat running down his face. The cell-phone in his pocket vibrated and he bit his inner cheeks as he took it out; the vibrating stopped and he flipped it open, his throat constricting at the text message:
- A3nt2dScr1ptFdsTrJn -
0000000000
Barren Cipher in the Transposed Day
……….
-SAYA
Chapter 8: Shades of Memory
Her silver blonde hair drying slowly in the damp night air, Hakami blended into the crowds of passerby on Tokyo’s busy city streets; the Syndicate’s tracers and provided cell-phone discarded at the Hotel -- she glanced back as the ambulance siren whined through the night air, shrill even as it died away in the distance.
“Troy…still alive?” Hakami wrapped her fingers around the specialized cell-phone in her coat pocket; she swallowed, her eyes hidden by the strands of blonde hair falling from behind her ears.
She exhaled and turned down an alley, the damp night air turning chill as the wind picked up; when shadow swallowed her from sight she took out the cell-phone in her pocket, its screen black with number sequences in white.
Looking over the numbers with indifference, she pressed 3 thrice, and the display of a normal cell-phone appeared. It glowed and beeped, revealing a message of one missed call.
The glow illuminated her face, her eyes gazing over the coded word Fortunato: Troy’s number beneath it.
“He’s alive….” She flipped shut the phone, eyes straying to the high horizon line, the shadows drowned out her expression.
0
In a neighboring hotel, Conan paced the floor of an unoccupied room waiting for Jodie and James to return from talking with the police; Hakami’s words echoed in his thoughts, how easily his name rolled from her lips.
‘…and I never forget a face, Kudo….’
“She knows, but does that mean the Syndicate….damn….ah.” He gasped as the rest of her words sunk in, even her reference to the Sherlock Holmes story. “Elementary school? She recognized me from that….but that….that would make her only 16.…and….” Images from the past floated into his consciousness.
The short, silver blonde haired transferred student stood by the tree, not talking, keeping away from the other kids. Her hair in braids tied with ribbons, she stared down anyone who approached her.
Shinichi kicked around a soccer ball as recess continued, glancing now and then at the transfer student with lukewarm interest.
“Shinichi, don’t you think Saya Kurosawa-san looks lonely?” Ran stood next to Shinichi, her saddened eyes watching the transfer student. “It’s been two days, and she hasn’t made any friends….”
“Geez…that’s because she ignores everyone who approaches her. She might just want to be left alone….” He saw Ran shake her head and move toward the transfer student; he held the soccer ball under his arm and waited as Ran greeted the transfer student.
He expected Ran to be shooed away, but after a few minutes Ran instead sat next to the transfer student, a big smile on her face -- the transfer student turned to Ran seemingly interested for the first time in two days and sat down as well.
“How…? Ran….”
Conan leaned over the table, his insides shaking as the rest of the memories rushed back; the appearance of Hakami tonight resonated with his memory of the young transfer student -- the transfer student who disappeared after a few months.
“Saya Kurosawa….I….wait, Kurosawa? I’ve seen that name somewhere else, but where….”
The door opened and shut, in midst of his words; he turned to see Jodie approaching him only to glance back and pause: James stared down at Conan with wide eyes, his lips mouthing the name Saya. Conan swallowed, his blood pumping to his arms, legs, and gut, his eyes focused on the older FBI agent; the noise of shuffled feet behind the agent drew his attention away.
Conan’s eyes widened as he saw Haibara staring at him, her head covered with the hood of her coat. Her shocked expression lasted another second before she turned away, walking toward the far wall away from the windows, and sitting down on a wooden desk chair.
‘Haibara….’
“James, what is it? What…?”
“Saya…that name Conan just mentioned -- Saya was the name of Toni’s daughter, Troy’s stepdaughter.” James pulled at the collar of his suit and stared at the room window before closing his eyes. He sighed and then opened them again. “The bomber at the hotel, she’s grown, but I’m certain it was Saya.”
“Saya….that….” Conan’s memory of the transfer student jumped vividly in front of his thoughts. ‘She was so shy, nice…what happened to….’
“But Conan-kun, how do you know that name? Where did you….” James and Jodie stared at the young detective while Haibara glanced at him but quickly looked away.
“Ten years ago…Saya Kurosawa transferred into the same 1st grade class I attended. A few months later she vanished.” Conan stared at the floor, his eyes shadowed; he clenched his fist before his next words. “She recognized me at the hotel, before you and James showed up in that hallway. She knows I’m Shinichi Kudo.”
“God! If she knows, then the Syndicate….” Haibara leaped to her feet, rushing to Conan as panic set in her gut. “The Syndicate….”
Conan shook his head, and brought his hand to his forehead at the sudden stab of pain; he turned to Haibara the next moment.
“The Syndicate wouldn’t bother sending a spy to investigate Mouri-ojisan if they knew who I was….they’d come straight for me. And now that Hakami’s identity as the hacker/bomber is known to them they’ll target her….unless….”
0
Vodka and Vermouth hung back in the shadows as Gin sat by the curtained window, his face darkened, eyes concealed by the strands of silver blond hair hanging down in front. Neither approached him as Gin wiped down his Beretta, checking the ammunition -- his presence so intense that silence seemed forced upon every inch of the room.
The click of the Beretta broke the silence; Vermouth and Vodka watched Gin pocket his weapon, and the videotape on the table after a swift glance over its plastic covering.
“Gin, about Absinthe….” Vermouth approached as Gin stood up; she faltered at his glare, the coldness in his eyes harsher than normal. She shivered.
“Not another word, Vermouth. Absinthe will make her next move in due time and I’ll be ready for it. It’s Troy who needs to be dealt with….”
“A retired CIA agent over a traitor?” Vermouth closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Her bemused half-smile faded as Gin walked passed her. “Gin, what are you hiding? What is on that tape?”
“Aniki….” Vodka approached Gin’s side, his eyes behind his sunglasses flitting from Vermouth to Gin, the silent rage in his partner apparent to him; his chest went cold and he bit back his words. Gin ignored them both and continued to the door.
“Besides Absinthe looking an awful lot like Toni, what else is there about her that stops you from dealing with that traitor?” Vermouth’s lips twisted into another bemused smile as Gin halted at the door. “Just the similar appearance wouldn’t stop you, you dealt with Toni promptly 10 years ago…along with Saya….”
“Vermouth!” Gin snarled, glaring at her as he swiftly turned around; his hand in his pocket clenched tightly around the Beretta. The anger smoldering on his face, the snarl etched into his eyes and lips.
Vermouth inhaled sharply and stepped back at the bite of his reproaching glare. Her eyes widened, the words clogged in her throat; ten seconds passed with a swallow and a breath.
“Gin….is Absinthe…Saya?”
“Vermouth….” Gin’s eyes held a deadly glint, his anger virulent simmering beneath the point of control. “Don’t ever say her name.”
The silence of the room filled the air with thick waves, Gin and Vermouth facing each other as Vodka fidgeted uncomfortably and swallowed a few times. His eyes locked on Gin, his pulse pounding seeing his partner’s venomous and cold expression; the silence suffocating in the verbal deadlock.
“Aniki….if Absinthe is your daughter Saya” Vodka’s voice echoed in the silence; he halted when Gin glared at him, but his partner turned and left the room without another word, his footsteps gradually fading.
“Hm,” Vermouth loosened her crossed arms and let them fall to her sides; her lips curled in amusement. “To think Absinthe is Saya…that Saya survived….”
“….Vermouth….”
“How did she survive though? Gin was ordered to kill both Toni and Saya….even ten years ago Gin was cutthroat enough to shoot his ex-lover and her child…his own daughter….” Vermouth closed her eyes and breathed in and out, her expression calm and interested; she frowned when Vodka started out the door. “Vodka, there’s nothing you….”
“If ‘that person’ finds out that Saya lived, that Aniki failed to kill her when ordered….”
“That won’t be an issue….if Saya’s the hacker she’s more valuable alive…being able to hack the security programs her mother developed for the Syndicate….”
“But Toni was an undercover FBI….”
“…who was about to defect to the Syndicate before being betrayed herself…a fact ‘that person’ found out only after her death.” Vermouth brought her hand to her lips, her eyes widening in thought. ‘But why did Toni want to defect in the first place….’
0
Troy limped along the asphalt parking lot, his wounds excruciating yet he succeeded in avoiding the police as he left the hotel; he leaned against a dark blue sedan before opening the door and collapsing into the driver’s seat. He slammed his fists against the steering wheel, his face wrinkled with rage.
“That she’d….Saya, you…I tried to make amends….” He leaned back in the seat, the split-second memory of the explosion flashed through his thoughts.
‘The bomb he’d just planted beeped, spelling A M 0 N T 1 L L A D 0 on its LCD screen, his heart jumped as his legs pushed him away; the next moment the explosive detonated.’
“That it’d come to this…Toni, you’ll get your wish….your daughter….” Troy spread his fingers out in front of him, they trembled and his eyes settled on his missing left ring finger. “Toni….”
Coal black eyes widened on a pale face, the next moment narrowing as the woman’s head shook; her pitch-black hair swayed as her hand wrinkled a photograph in its grip.
“How could you…how….” Toni glared at the photograph crushed in her fist, then at Troy in front of her. Her eyes glinted as she shook her fist at Troy, watching the man step back.
“Calm down, Toni. Don’t overreact….” Troy raised his arms in front of him in a defensive gesture.
“Overreact?! I trusted you, and you….” She tore up the photograph, her lips twisted in disgust; she held her head in her hands, the golden wedding band shined in the overhead light. Troy stepped forward and grabbed Toni by the shoulders, she flinched at the touch of his strong hands.
“It…it isn’t what it seems….I mean….”
Toni slapped his arms away, her expression enraged, face heated with anger and disbelief. “Not what it seems? You…you’re worse than Gin! Worse than Saya’s own father!”
“Worse than that cutthroat?! Toni, that’s too far, that….”
“Too far?! You…all Gin did was teach Saya how to load and fire a gun….and not the kind of ‘gun’ you tried to according to that photo! You disgusting…pedophile!”
Troy grabbed Toni’s arms again, his heart thumping against his ribs; he gritted his teeth at Toni’s kick to his groin, inhaling sharply but keeping a firm grip. The next second Toni rendered his left arm immobile by pressing specific pressure points along the arm; she pushed him against the wall.
“You….”
Troy flinched as Toni pressed her knee against his left arm, breaking the bone with a gut-wrenching crack; he barely saw the glimpse of metal as she brought the knife to his left hand. The sudden pain venomous through his veins, he punched her in the gut, standing and gripping his wounded hand as she crashed into the wall.
Toni returned to her feet wobbly, Troy’s severed ring finger in her hand, along with her own wedding and engagement rings. She threw them at Troy before sliding back to her knees, her cheeks glossy with tears.
“Leave. Get the hell out. I never want to see your face again.”
“Toni….”
“…my daughter…you touched her…you…your pedophile hands….” Toni gasped and coughed as she bit back a sob, her chest heaving, hands trembling. “I didn’t give birth to Saya for her to become a killer or a sexual-toy. But if I have to choose…I’d rather she’d be a killer….or dead.” Toni sobbed, huddled against the wall, trembling as Troy left the apartment.
Troy leaned over the steering wheel, the cuts on his cheeks bleeding, mixing their red with the sweat running down his face. The cell-phone in his pocket vibrated and he bit his inner cheeks as he took it out; the vibrating stopped and he flipped it open, his throat constricting at the text message:
- A3nt2dScr1ptFdsTrJn -
0000000000
Barren Cipher in the Transposed Day
……….
-SAYA