Case Closed Fan Fiction ❯ When Pandora's Box Is Opened ❯ Unknowing ( Chapter 43 )

Chapter Forty-Three

Unknowing

Conan lay in Hattori Heiji's bed, curled up under the duvet, staring at Mori Ran, who was sleeping on a futon on the floor. Somehow, it calmed him, probably because Ran was such a kind neechan. She'd sat up for ages, patiently answering all of his questions about himself, and he'd found himself asking all sorts of questions that he didn't really care about the answers to, just so she'd talk to him. He was happy to find that he was living with her and her father, even though she wasn't his biological neechan, because his parents lived in America but he hadn't wanted to. He'd probably still be staying with Ran and her father, since the doctor had said that he needed to be around familiar places and people to trigger memory recovery, and Ran had said that he'd only been to his parents' house in America twice, so it wouldn't help much. His parents had to be worried about him, though. Maybe they'd stay in Japan for a while in case he remembered him. If he was going to remember anyone, he'd remember his parents, right?

Really, he'd found that amnesia aside, he had a really good memory. Even though he hadn't really been paying attention to the answers to all of the questions that he'd asked Ran, he could still remember the answer to every one. The only thing that he kept forgetting was his name.

It kind of annoyed him. Surely he should remember his own name once it was told to him, right? Apparently not. It kept taking him a while to realize that when people were talking to “Conan-kun”, they meant him. Weirdly, the only person that he always knew was addressing him was Heiji, and that was strange because he was the one whose strong Osaka-ben meant that he kept mispronouncing Conan's name. He kept saying “Ku-Conan”, and a couple of times he'd even pronounced it “Kudo”. Somehow, though, Conan's mind had latched onto that form of address as meaning him, more than his actual name. It was a little annoying, like the strange feeling he got whenever he caught sight of his reflection in Heiji's darkened window. It took him a moment to recognize himself. It was like he was expecting to see someone else. But no-one had commented about him looking any different, so this was what he really looked like, right? It was probably just an effect of his amnesia. But he could remember everyone else's names once they'd been introduced to him, so why couldn't he remember his own?

He stifled a sneeze. He didn't want to wake Ran up. He still had a cold from wandering around in the rain. He'd been trying to remember where he'd come from, but the first thing that he clearly remembered was waking up in this room and not recognizing anybody. He tried to remember when Heiji had found him, but he only had a vague impression of cold, and wet, and sore feet, and exhaustion. He couldn't remember who had kidnapped him, or what had happened to make him lose his memory...

“Which is probably the point,” he thought wryly. “Well... maybe I shouldn't worry about it. My memories'll probably come back sooner or later, right? So I've got to try hard to remember... well, anything about myself. The more I remember, the more likely that something useful will come back...”

He lay awake all night, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember. But somehow, he couldn't stop his gaze straying every so often to Ran.

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Akako jerked up in bed with a gasp. The jumbled flash of images fell through her head again.

A red jewel and blood and the forest and the coin blank on one side...

“All right, that's it,” she growled. She strode out of her room, calling to her servant to set up a summoning circle, but she didn't go straight to the basement- instead, she made a detour to the bathroom.

“The circle is prepared, Akako-sama,” the youkai said with a bow when she finally reached the basement. He eyed the bucket in confusion. “Akako-sama...?”

“Silence,” Akako said coldly, going through the summoning ritual. Soon, Lucifer appeared before her in a cloud of smoke and fire.

“My dream,” she demanded. “What do you mean by it?”

You saw what has become, Lucifer began, and what will come of it if the Black Knight is not-

“Speak straight Japanese,” Akako snarled, hefting the bucket of cold water, “or I'm dumping this over your head.”

How dare you!

“I do dare,” Akako said, inwardly amazed at her own insubordination. “You already have my soul, so what else can you do? Well?”

The fiery shape seemed hesitant. This is most irregular...

“Welcome to my world these days,” Akako snapped. “So?”

You are seeing fragments of an immortal's prophetic dream, Lucifer said, a little sullenly.

“What does it mean?” Akako demanded.

I cannot say. They are beyond my reach, thanks to the blood jewel- but if they miss their renewal, then that will change.

“So how can one be immortal? Aside from black magic?” Akako said.

The blood jewel. At its mother's pass, it cries for her, and those tears grant immortality- but they must be drunk at every pass, or the immortality will fade.

“An immortal?” Akako wondered. “Could that be the unnatural presence that I sensed at the heist? The presence which, perhaps, took...”

“All right, I want to clear something up,” she said, remembering something. “What is Edogawa Conan to Kudo Shinichi?”

What an egg is to an eagle.

“No more riddles, dammit, although I'll give you that one as an obvious confirmation,” Akako sighed. “And he is the Black Knight of which you spoke? The antithetical ally to Kuroba?”

They are opposites, yet only in the sense that heads and tails are opposites.

“Plain Japanese...”

Yes. Now put the bucket down.

“As you wish,” Akako said smugly. “Then my dream- is he dead?”

He lives, but he lives blankly. He will no longer be the Black Knight until what he lost is returned.

“Blankly?” Akako said with a frown. “Is that why the coin is suddenly blank?”

Indeed. The course of Fate has changed- He's not happy about that, by the way. It can only be righted if the Black Knight is returned... or else...

“Or else?”

The blood jewel will not be destroyed. The shadows shall be renewed, and then they shall hold dominion. The world is already in their grip. They are the eminence grise. And once they are all immortal, all powerful, the world will fall, and they shall escape my grip forever- which I'm not happy about.

“Then...?”

The Kaitou Kid shall meet his end when the full moon shines on the red tower.

“He will still die?”

Yes, now he will.

“Wait,” Akako said, confused. “You said before that he will die at the Red Tower!”

I said that he will meet his end. I did not say that he would die. Lucifer then presciently faded and vanished a moment before the water hit the fading smoke.

“Damn Him,” Akako muttered redundantly as she stomped back up the stairs. “All right. So the kid's alive, but something's happened that will set Kuroba's death sentence. Blank. Blank... could it mean...?”

“Akako-sama,” her servant said, shrinking away slightly from her rage, “There is news of Edogawa Conan.”

“What is it?” Akako demanded.

“He has been found in Osaka,” the youkai promptly replied, sensing that Akako was not in the mood for anything but the point. “Alive, uninjured... but with severe amnesia. There is no trace of the kidnapper.”

“Amnesia?” Akako said with narrowed eyes. “Blank. I see. But how...” “He is returning to Tokyo today?”

“I believe so, Akako-sama.”

“Fine.” Akako pulled on her cloak and stepped out into the chill morning air. She closed her eyes, reaching out her arms as she muttered the appropriate chants, and then, at the climax of the spell, snapped her fingers. In a flash of hellfire, she was gone, and at the same moment she reappeared in an alley across from the Mori Detective Agency. She crossed the road into the Cafe Poirot below, taking a seat near the window and absentmindedly ordering a coffee as she reached out, sensing for that suppressed aura of power...

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“... but thank Kami he's all right... aren't you coming to greet him as well?”

“I wish I could, Yukiko,” Yuusaku said dejectedly as Yukiko straightened her black wig. “But you already have to go as Edogawa Fumiyo, don't you? Wouldn't it look strange if Kudo Yuusaku went and Kudo Yukiko didn't? Besides, I thought we'd told people that we'd gone back to America already so that Ran-kun wouldn't ask us to meet “Fumiyo”...”

“Oh, you're right,” Yukiko said, wiping her eyes tentatively, trying not to distort the mask. “Oh, Kami, I just can't get over it... Shin-chan's alive, but... Yuusaku, what are we going to do? How are we going to explain to him who he really is?”

Yuusaku leaned against the dresser, staring almost unseeingly at the framed photograph that Yukiko had placed on top of it; a few summers ago, him and Yukiko in Central Park with Shinichi and Ran. That had been the summer that the two of them had first met Sharon Vineyard... and then, just under a year later...

“Yuu-chan? Are you listening? I really don't know what we're going to do...”

“I don't think there's any way that we could explain to him that he's Kudo Shinichi at present,” Yuusaku sighed, jerking out of his reverie. “It'd probably just frighten and confuse him, and frankly it's not that believable a story. However, his memories are bound to start drifting back...” he frowned as he realized something. “But it won't just be Edogawa Conan memories that'll start returning, is it? Sooner or later... a memory will surface that he'll soon realize is wrong...”

“I guess I'll just have to pretend he's Conan for now,” Yukiko sighed, sniffling. “Oh, at least I'm not going to have to act when he gets back... after all, I really am greeting my baby after he went missing, aren't I? I just need to be careful not to destroy my mask...”

“I'm sure you'll be fine,” Yuusaku said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek as he walked past her, heading for the library. “And so will he, sooner or later. Meanwhile, I'm going to see if I can't find some trace of that Pandora legend. After all, it's supposedly ten thousand years old, so there must be some record of it somewhere, no?”

“I hope you find something,” Yukiko sniffed, getting up and pulling out her glasses. “For both Shin-chan and Kaito-chan...”

Yuusaku watched her go, then shut himself into the library and set up the old cassette player.

It had taken him hours to repair and restore the tape, but luckily he'd picked up the skill a long time ago, when Yukiko, while cleaning out a cupboard, had left a box of cassettes on the floor, well within reach of an inquisitive toddler who was particularly inquisitive about exactly how long the funny black string in the plastic case was. Luckily, while the plastic case was singed and melted, the tape was not unsalvageable. It had probably only escaped complete destruction by still being in the tape player. If Yuusaku was right, the explosion had originated from within the secret room- someone destroying evidence that would implicate his mother, himself and his father's memory if found by firemen. Nothing else had been found, just fragments of a desk and chair, a number of disks which, even if they hadn't been burned beyond use, had deleted themselves when uploaded into a police computer. There was evidence of a large amount of paperwork, utterly incinerated. And there was this tape.

Yuusaku could guess what was in it, but judging by the fact that it had been long tangled as well as burned, he wondered if Kaito had ever heard the full content of it. If he had heard the full truth.

He turned the old tape over in his hands, carefully untangled and rewound into a new case, debating whether to listen to it. It was not meant for him, he knew, but what could be in there that he didn't already know? The secret that Toichi had shared because he was the only one in the world in the same position as him...

Finally, he clicked the tape into place and hit play, closing his eyes as his old friend's voice, a little faded but still intelligible, radiated from the speakers.

“Hello, Kaito. It's been a while. If you're hearing this, then there's something you need to know about my identity that I'm not alive to tell. To put it bluntly, I am the Kaitou Kid. No tricks...” here the tape became even more fuzzy and distorted, and Yuusaku wondered if Kaito had even heard past this part. But Toichi's voice could still be heard. “...evidence enough in this room. I guess I should explain why. I owe you, above all others, the truth- including the truth that I've only ever told one other living person, the only person who's implicated in the same way that I am. It started a couple of years before you were born, not long before I first met Minami. I was in Paris, and I ran into an old friend and student of mine in college, Sharon Vineyard...”

Yuusaku listened to the familiar story, the shock that had gripped him when he'd first heard it dulled by fifteen years. It seemed no more believable than it had then, but Akai Shuuichi and Jodie Starling, he knew, had found the proof, if only they could recognize it for what it was. And...

“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” he thought, eyes scanning over the works of Conan Doyle on his shelf. “It sounds so simple- until you realize that the line between the impossible and the merely improbable may not be where you thought it was...”

“... But the thing is, when you were three, we were visiting Japan and I visited another student of mine, Fujimine Yukiko, although her name now is Kudo Yukiko. I'd met her husband, Kudo Yuusaku, before- half of the time when he'd been chasing me as a detective- but this was the first time I'd met their son, Kudo Shinichi. And then I realized that I could have been wrong. But was it you or him? There was only one thing to do, to ensure the safety of both of you. I asked Yuusaku if I could talk to him in private...”

“It didn't work, Toichi-kun,” Yuusaku thought sadly. “She made the choice... and it's Kaito-kun. Forgive me.”

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Twenty Years Ago

Paris

Toichi narrowed his eyes on his old friend and student. Though she was swathed in the shadows at the edge of the streetlight, somehow he felt that he was seeing her more clearly than he ever had before.

“No, I have no intention of becoming a criminal,” he said calmly, keeping his face and voice as calm and composed as if he were playing a game of Poker. “And if I didn't know better, Sharon-chan, I'd say you were encouraging me to become one.”

Sharon's smile was cold and insincere. “Kami, but she really is an amazing actress, isn't she?” Toichi mused. “I never suspected...”

“I think you have potential as one,” she said coolly, “but I suppose an innate and unfortunate tendency to honesty cannot be cured. Forgive me for trespassing upon your time.” She turned and walked away without another word.

“What was that about?” Konosuke Jii said in confusion, watching her sway away. Toichi held up his hand to silence the older man as he saw another shape detach itself from the shadows and walk alongside Sharon. Faint snatches of voices floated back to him.

“It's no good,” he heard her say. “He won't steal the jewel for us. He has talent, but he'd never be loyal to criminals.”

“It seems your little venture has backfired,” said a man's voice, harsh, unfamiliar. “Now it will only be harder for those who are loyal to get into the Louvre.”

“On to Prague, then...”

They drifted out of earshot.

“Konosuke-sensei,” Toichi said quietly, “let's get back to the hotel. I think this may be more than I thought...”

“Was she going to use me?” he wondered. “Sharon... what are you mixed up in? What are you after? Whatever it is...” He thought of the harsh, cold voice of the man, Sharon's insincere smile- the things that sent a shiver down his spine now. In that moment, his old friend had had the look of a killer about her. And he had taught a criminal to perfectly impersonate almost anybody in the world...

“On to Prague, then...”

“Well, if I'm responsible for a criminal acquiring such skills,” he thought with a mocking grin, remembering the adrenaline rush of dancing in the spotlight, ahead of the police... “Perhaps I am responsible to ensure that they are not misused.”

“Konosuke-sensei,” he said, “How about we visit Prague next?”

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Time for another shameless plug, people! AngelRoy's oneshot collection and serial fic “Birds Of A Feather” are going deeply underappreciated! The oneshots are so funny and original (especially “The One Day Kaito Fears,” I was decking myself for that one XD) and BOAF is an intense and innovative fic which frankly could use more support. For anyone who's always game to read new fic, I can't recommend much better than AngelRoy, nor Pretztailfan95 and HaibaraDaiFan.

... I'm still crying over Torchwood. I just can't believe it. God, how could you LIVE with yourself, organising something like that? Poor Frobisher certainly couldn't... T_T

I envy you, Mel72000! T_T Yeah, I wonder about Shinichi's shock as well... I'd really thought that he already knew that Shuu was alive... well, I suppose we'll find out soon, eh? This has to be the longest-running manga I've ever read... I want my Tankoban! Get your asses in gear, Viz!

Everybody loves Toichi, AngelRoy... although when I read your review, my brain started playing that “He Lives In You” song from the Lion King 2... XD Toichi is Mufasa! *gets strange mental image of a lion with a top hat and monocle* XD

Ginzo mentioned that the painting was fireproof, Silver Shadowbreeze... seems like everybody had contingency plans for that room. Yeah, no wonder Yuusaku was musing that Toichi must be possessing him periodically... and as for Vermouth? She just told him a story...

XD I didn't know it was that uncommon, Fireline... the local cops were using it on a regular basis when the guy who killed Vicky Hamilton was on trial at the Sherriff's Court... (grammatically incorrect? Both they and their were used correctly...) I just loved it, so I made Megure say it XD The mechanism would have been torn apart and crushed when the house collapsed, and as well as the deliberate bomb I do imagine that there were a number of flash grenades and similar articles that were not fond of fire. Even if Ginzo accepts the whole Kid situation though, in the end that's not the only problem Aoko has with Kid... he's a vehicle for a lot of the things she hates most, so coming to terms with the face under the mask and what would easily be seen as a betrayal by the person she trusts most is another matter entirely...

Ah, I'd heard about Anime Expo 2009, So I'd hoped you were going to that, HaibaraDaiFan, since it sounded awesome... wait, Tulsa has an anime convention too? Aww, man! I should convinced Mom and Dad to keep the house there XD Well, I do hope you have a good time, however big or small it is! Trust me, it's WAY more than I've ever been able to find in Scotland. Never mind anime conventions, just finding a bookstore that stocks anything is a challenge and a half... XD ah, the joys of terrifying theories... down, girl! XD aww, too bad you're having a hard time on your fic... writer's block sucks, big time. :(

Who knows what the goopy stuff was, JapaneseAnimeFreak16? I dunno... there's plenty to “wtf?” about without dead people...

Hey, Marie Ravenclaw, by my timeline Kaito's only a year younger than me and that makes him MINE! XD *fangirl battle music* I remember that storyarc actually, it was mental... (and what in Ranma