Chapter Text
“Are you saying that dead brat’s ghost has appeared or something?” there was amusement inside Gin’s voice.
“You see… It’s turned into something odd” Vodka murmured.
Indeed it had. For a few moments he had been stunned the moment that Invisible Man had taken the bandages off. That same brat they had tested the former poison of Sherry’s appearing right there on that mast, prancing in front of everyone and solving the murder with the same flair for dramatics as he had done that day inside that theme park. As if he hadn’t learnt a thing from their encounter.
If there was something Vodka prided himself on, aside from surviving being Gin’s partner for nearly a decade, it was his memory. While not as good as Curaçao’s, it especially shined when it came to faces and names. He had recognized the name the attendants had been whispering about and in the end his spirits had sunk the moment he had recognized the brat on the mast.
Was this her plan? Be that brat the real thing, or just a disguise, they were screwed. If it was real, whether the poison hadn’t worked as intended or the brat had somehow vomited it before it could take effect, it didn’t matter: the result had been the same, Gin left behind a witness alive and failed to confirm his death correctly. And with that bitch Sherry having turned traitor, there was no one else to blame but the two of them. To make matters worse, he had no way of killing him with so many witnesses around, alongside the so-called Great Detective Sleeping Kogorou, easily distinguishable with his light disguise, who, while he hadn’t shown any of his attributes he was famous for, his name still carried weight, just like the brat they failed to kill!
If it was just a show of Vermouth’s, the previous points still stood, only that they would be innocent of any wrongdoing.
No matter how real the brat on the mast was, Vodka was sure Vermouth had orchestrated everything. While it was quite characteristic of her to use her favoured status to pull funds for whatever craving she had (and Gin had often complained about it), using that money just to hold Fuukura’s audition, had been a step too far for someone up, who gave Gin the order and in turn, the order was passed to him.
The order was to learn what was her deal. As much of a pain as trying to find a needle in a haystack. Just trying to find Vermouth in the middle of that Halloween party was trying, thinking of also interrogating her alone was soul crushing. If only Aniki didn’t decide to remain on stand-by!
But in the end, all his worrying had been for naught, because it had been a ruse from another detective brat all along. His name? Hattori Heiji. Son of an important figure of the Osaka Police Department, Hattori Heizo: problem for the Osaka department, which did not include him.
On the other hand, he was currently rethinking his stance on the man’s brat. The big question was: how did this brat manage to create such an accurate depiction? Could it be…? He and Vermouth had been working together?
“So that brat… Hattori Heiji?”
“Yes, Aniki.” He confirmed.
“Has disguised himself as that other brat I may have killed… Am I hearing this correctly?”
“Yes. He tricked everyone, including myself, until he took that mask off. Both the face and the voice were accurate.”
“Just like that woman’s disguises. I understand now what her plans were today. Get out of the premises as soon as possible.“
So Gin might suspect the same as he did. Was this… Hattori Heiji involved with Vermouth? Was this a way of introducing him to the rest of them? Or was this just some joke of hers, some game she played with Gin?
Either way, the matter was out of his hands.
As for the crying man that Vermouth threatened to do her bidding? Her problem, not his.
…
Hattori Heiji…
As he waited for Vodka to rejoin him from his mission, Gin had taken the time to gather information about the brat who had disguised himself as the dead brat. High school detective pest from Osaka and son of Hattori Heizo, a thorn in their side when it came to Osaka, placed high on their list of Highly dangerous(not to engage). Well, Gin was not afraid of some policeman, after all, none were resistant to bullets and dear Sherry’s poison discriminated against none.
As for Sherry herself… still alive and even having some secret helpers. Pisco had been so incompetent he hadn’t even bothered to tie her up, given her an avenue of escape and even given her access to Organization files, much to Gin’s distaste. There was no exact way to know just how much had been copied and could be used in exchange for her to buy immunity and to escape her sins. The existence of her unknown helper was even worse. If it hadn’t been for him, Gin would’ve had her on that rooftop, the dirty janitor’s overalls, the cracked glasses and bleeding hole inside her skull, the red blood splatter on the white snow as her face and name faded from his memory. It would have made for a perfect death for the little traitor.
Undeservedly, she received help from another one of the snakes in the shadows and so she had escaped her fate, while the answers to her miraculous escape still eluded him, all locked inside her brain.
But that meant little. It was only a matter of time until he would catch up to her, helpers or not and the time they met again she would not get away. He would pull out the answers from her mouth, be it with a tooth or two. After he was done with her, he could give her a taste of her own medicine.
Writhing on the dirty floor, choking on her own saliva, her body wrecked by her creation… Oh. It made for an even better death than his previous plan for her.
The car’s left door opened, snapping him from his reverie. Immediately, his head snapped towards the sound. Vodka, or someone who had disguised themselves as him, had allowed themselves inside the car and without a word, took off the monster mask and seated themselves on the driver’s seat.
Gin lunged, grabbed his face and pulled. He heard a sharp intake of breath and much to his satisfaction, the skin didn’t give way and revealed itself to be latex.
It was not some other moron Vermouth had sent his way this time, or worse, the woman herself.
“What else have you learnt at that party beyond that brat?” Gin fished for information, going right to a subject of importance.
“Not much, if you’re asking me about Vermouth and her full plans. I hadn’t even seen her once, but that was to be expected.” the man answered, while rubbing his stinging cheek.
Gin had no doubts that the chances of Vodka actually catching that snake were anything but zero.
“But she had orchestrated a murder. Her man had successfully killed his target using her own plan, but was exposed by the Hattori brat in front of the entire crowd.” Vodka continued.
How wonderful would it be for her to have made a mess not even she could get out of? His Beretta was just begging to be used on her beautiful head.
The weak link first. Because that was all that Hattori Heiji could be. A perfect disguise coupled with a perfect mimicry of a voice and being right in the middle of her theatre? There was no way there wasn’t a connection.
While there were other two people in Japan with such abilities not affiliated with the Organization, the chances of Kudou Yukiko trying such a stunt were inexistant and the phantom thief wouldn’t teach his tricks to the son of a policeman. Dismissable.
Doing such a flashy reveal, right on the ship where Vermouth had crafted her web? And using the face of someone who he had killed? There was no way that wasn’t that infuriating woman’s handiwork. And with Vodka on board, it could have been one of her provocations. Just one of her many games she liked to involve anyone, be it from the prey, to the predators that were her equals.
What was Hattori Heiji to her? A new toy she had found while in her extended stay in Japan? Some protege she took under her wing? Someone she paid off to play the role?
Or had she pretended to play the role of the Hattori boy also? He had witnessed her wear two masks at once multiple times during all those years he had unfortunately been in her company. Wouldn’t put it past her to try three masks just to show everyone she could.
Vermouth was flighty, chaotic, too secretive for her own good and had too much influence and too good of a position for the good of the Organization. Her newest game was the last thing they needed, especially with Sherry being still at large and helped by an unknown helper or more, rumours of Akai returning to Japan and Itakura’s fox.
And now, there was the newest thread to the ever-growing web of troubles.
“The Hattori brat. Tell me everything you saw him do.”
“He had disguised himself as the Invisible Man and had been placed by coincidence at the table of Vermouth’s would-be killer. I didn’t see him investigate. In the end he climbed up the mast, where he took off his costume, solved the murder using Kudou’s voice, after which he took off the mask. He claimed to have done the impersonation in an attempt to attract Kudou’s attention, to check whether the rumours of his death are true.” Vodka summarized.
“So that was all that he did?” Gin said, as he lit up a cigarette.
“All that I’ve seen of him. I overheard the attendants whisper Kudou’s name, so I think he had signed himself using the dead brat’s name on the register.”
That was all? A pathetic attempt at intimidating him? Just that? He expected far, far more from her. It would have been far more effective to just have him keep the mask on and let the dominoes fall, insinuate that he was slipping, let the rumours of his survival spread like wildfire, not crush the fire in its infancy.
Really, he expected so much more from her.
His phone rang, much to his annoyance, which only grew at the name on the screen. Think of the devil.
At least it was the perfect opportunity to express his disappointment in her skills to her own person. And question her about the Hattori brat’s role in the whole theatre.
“Gin…” her voice was shaky, as little as that meant when it came to her. “I got into trouble.”
Well, that was interesting. Trouble and Vermouth walked hand-in-hand, yet it was usually the latter that was the cause of the first. And rarer were the times that she allowed an admission of failure to slip from her lips. Before he could mock her, she opened her mouth again.
“I ran… into Akai Shuuichi…” she continued through wheezes. “He got me…”
Akai Shuuichi! So the accursed rumours were true! The rat was really back in Japan after all!
Just as soon as his rage flared up, it quickly calmed. Akai’s continued survival was just an unfortunate mistake he now had the opportunity to fix. Not that pain-in-his-sides Rum, not like Vermouth who had already failed once(twice now), not that infuriating jumpstart Bourbon. That most infamous rat being back in Japan? Perfect opportunity to finally fix the mistake that was Akai’s continued survival. Preferably in a dark and freezing cell underground and over a few days.
And if he turned out to be Sherry’s secret helper, even better. He had the opportunity to kill two birds at once.
“You got beaten by Akai Shuuichi?” he asked, not letting his mirth at the good news slip in.
“Y-yes…” her voice quivered. “I had an unfortunate run-in with him and… he broke some of my ribs…”
Where did that happen? Where had the fight happened?
Those were the two questions he wanted to ask, but he stopped himself from saying them out loud. It was best to avoid seeming desperate for anything when Vermouth was involved, a lesson learnt during all those years of being “colleagues”.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t twist the knife in the wound, especially with her admission.
“That rat you failed to kill last year in New York… your grand plan to disguise as a random killer ended up backfiring on you, didn’t it?” He said, pretending to be dismissive. He then went for the throat. “And now’s the second time you fail. Are you slipping? Or are you and that rat truly enemies?”
A pause, much to his satisfaction.
“And here I thought I had been doing you a favour by warning you… Perhaps I should’ve let him…” the inflection of her voice changed to an unpleasantly familiar one, “get the jump on you…”
How dare she insinuate Akai would be able to get the drop on him!?
“That Person fears him… he fears he might become our Silver Bullet…” she added nothing of value. "You know what is said..." she continued, wearing the facsimile of worry.
What a disgrace from their greatest among them.
“A mythical Silver Bullet that doesn’t exist,” he scoffed at the woman’s claim. Akai’s reputation was extremely blown out of proportion. “There’s no one who can destroy us in one blow.”
Least of all Akai. All that man had managed to do was to sign his death warrant. No matter how high of a regard they all held his skills in, he was no match for Gin himself. It wouldn’t be long until he got his hands on him and finally got rid of a mistake.
“And where and when did you run into him?” He changed the subject to more important matters.
“I’ll tell you if you pick me up...”
Can’t drive, hm? He could picture the scenario: having lost the car in her escape and with the wounds she had sustained she had no other choice but to beg him for help without outright begging by dangling something in exchange.
Or… it could have been a trap. Vermouth, captured and being used by Akai and his pawns to try their hands at capturing him. Again.
He dismissed it just as quickly. Nothing short of actually fearing for her life was going to have any effect on Vermouth and in the FBI’s hands? Not a chance.
But using that idea as an excuse? Tempting. He could leave her in whatever burrow she’d had to hole herself in, let her dig herself out of her mess.
“You know… Akai won’t stay in one place for long…” she added.
Vermouth had to lose Akai first, before she made the call. Whatever location she would give, the rat would have already been long gone by the time Gin went searching.
It was a waste of time.
It was a waste of time. He should just leave her there to struggle with her broken bones, after all she was lively enough to mouth off.
“Where are you?” He caved in. For how useless the information she may or may not give might be, the chance of getting to see her in a vulnerable state and getting to laugh in her face for biting more than she could chew yet again would make it worth it.
“In a phone booth, along line 20…” she didn’t beat around the bush when it came to her benefit.
“Don’t move from your spot.”
He only heard the beginning of her scoff before he ended the call, just so he would have the last word.
“Turn on the engine,” he ordered. “We have to pick Vermouth up. Line 20,” he directed. “And keep an eye for phone booths. She claims she’s holed herself into one.”
“Isn’t that a little far from her party?” Vodka asked.
“Indeed it is,” he answered. He really, really wanted to know what had exactly happened.
Unfortunately, he had to pull the answers from the damned woman. With a scoff, he crushed the used cigarette butt and tossed it into the ashtray.
“Is… Akai Shuuichi is really back in Japan?” Vodka changed the subject.
“According to Vermouth, yes,” he enunciated the final word with all the disdain he was capable of. “But his days are numbered,” he said as he opened the cigarette packet. “Coming back was the last mistake he’ll ever make.”
Yes, coming back and letting Gin know he was back in Japan. Staying with the FBI was the last mistake he ever made. Once Gin got his hands on him… First, he would break those long, graceful, sniper’s fingers one by one. Then, the hair. Next, that traitorous, snake’s tongue he used to worm his way in, in multiple ways.
It wasn’t like it would have anything useful to say anyways.
And saving them for last, those eyes he was so proud of and known for.
There wouldn’t be much use of the rat for anyone and they could leave him to rot where he deserved. No more discussions about the future or thinly veiled threats of replacement.
“He’ll be weeping blood by the time I’m done with him,” Gin voiced his… thoughts, as he exhaled a large plum of smoke.
The car continued its drive into the night, as Gin stared at the shimmering dark body of the sea and allowed his mind to clear.
A tranquil moment that was shattered by a few words.
“And what about the Hattori brat?”
…
Vermouth would have been impressed with the way things had devolved into chaos if it hadn’t been her plans that had been ruined.
To say that everything had gone poorly was an understatement.
Everything had been in place to finally end Sherry once and for all, no more immunity, no more lucky escapes. And with no more FBI ambush to save her, Miyano would die.
That was until the mask was ripped off and she’d gone tense as one of the two people she wanted to keep the furthest away from that place appeared in Sherry’s place.
As she was thinking of the best opportunity to draw her gun to take out that watch, Angel smiled upon her and the real Sherry showed up to finally destroy herself as she should have done years earlier and Vermouth used that moment to take out Silver Bullet-kun as a threat and prepared to finish both Sherry and her job of twenty years’ past, until Angel herself jumped out of the Kitten’s car’s trunk and rushed to cover Sherry up, much to Vermouth’s dismay.
Everything devolved into chaos as she rushed to stop Calvados, sometime after Calvados got taken out by Akai and then the bastard didn’t have the decency not to show up where he wasn’t wanted as her plans went out in flames with a few shots and broken bones.
Luckily, Akai was limited by the morals and rules he now had to abide by. Her little Silver Bullet-kun had aided her immensely in her escape.
But that didn’t change the fact that Sherry was lost to her. Vermouth kept herself from sighing in the current company.
After Vermouth had also escaped Silver Bullet-kun’s trap, she’d had no choice but to call Gin for help. Which had put her into an even bigger predicament.
The car lurched forward, jolting her and making the pain flare up as she tried… and failed to suppress the wince. In the passenger seat, much to Vermouth’s annoyance, Gin had most likely heard it. Payback, that was what he was most likely thinking about. Payback for all the intentional and perceived slights for the night.
Tch. If one had a rough night, no wonder the witness would be cranky when they would be roughly interrogated. If she'd been given enough time to enjoy a night at a spa and a few painkillers, she would have been nicer. Knowing that was to be expected after all those years…
The car swerved, the motion sending ripples of pain through her cracked ribs and bruised backside. That bastard Akai had done a number on her and it was not helped by Gin tossing her unceremoniously in the back of his car, the satisfaction of traded barbs not doing much to soothe the pain.
The hells take Akai Shuuichi. Poor, unlucky Calvados. Hopefully, he had managed to kill himself to save them all the effort.
The car swerved again, this time in the opposite direction, making her body shift, her ribs aching in protest. Gingerly, she brought her hand to her cut cheek, courtesy of the same man, alongside the cracked ribs, as she looked at the other man in the passenger seat.
Gin would never admit his fear of Akai. He was far too proud for that, but Vermouth had worked with him long enough and had been inside the Organization for long enough to know how things went. No matter how much self-importance and belief in his abilities Gin had, he was not irreplaceable. Everyone was a cog in the machine that formed the Organization, some more easy to replace, others harder to. And Gin was no exception to that rule.
Such was the fate of everyone, you grow old, you fail too many times and so, you get replaced. And many times, those higher in the rung liked to remind you of such, by introducing someone with a similar level or higher inside the same skillset you had and usually younger.
No wonder Gin had disliked Rye the moment he read on his file. Dear Gin was a territorial person and hated it when it was encroached.
Rye had been too similar to Gin for his own good. In skillset, in appearance and in personality. With that similar cruel mockery and penchant for causing pain, no wonder Gin had hated him so much. He would never admit it, but seeing his unwanted, possibly even-better-than-him reflection? Too much for proud old Gin to handle.
Add on the whole spy thing and that Rum had had to keep Gin from falling into the trap and no wonder Gin would drop anything for a chance to kill that man.
Anything to heal that bleeding pride. Over which Vermouth would step over with very few regrets.
...And then there was the second reason why everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. Unfortunately, Akai hadn’t been the only thing on the man’s mind when they met.
“Hattori Heiji,” Gin had spat the name. “You’ve had him as the lead in your little play for the evening. I want to know everything about him and you.”
Hattori Heiji. The detective brat that had played stunt double for her Silver Bullet at the party, definitely on his orders.
Yukiko’s incredible boy, who had crafted a most impressive plan to thwart her plans. Impressive, but not perfect. Not only did he not account for Sherry’s interference, but despite her… reluctance to hurt or kill him, if he had been the one standing between freedom and imprisonment, then she would have let Calvados eliminate him. Would have. And then Calvados would have paid for it dearly.
And if it had been her dearest Angel the one to fight her instead…
It was not the time to think of that worst case scenario.
Despite that boy’s success in his mission, not all was well. While Akai made for an efficient distraction for the Organization’s many members to turn their heads to, there were still the Hattori boy’s actions at that party. People with that level of disguise ability were not found at every corner and there were only two people who were not affiliated already with the Organization(that she knew of) in Japan who had also studied under the great Kuroba Toichi.
Vermouth could already guess what had been the plan. The disguise had been Yukiko’s handiwork and the voice was faked using a voice changer crafted by the inventor hosting Sherry. Using those tools Hattori successfully impersonated Silver Bullet-kun accurately, enough to trick everyone at that party. Even herself.
Her goal had been to trick Mouri Kogorou into coming to the party and having him bring both Angel and Cool Guy with him. The murder would have made for the perfect excuse to keep her treasures busy and out of harm’s way and she would have used the distance and time to finally kill Sherry and end the Miyano legacy for good. The only obstacle would have been the FBI agent whose plan had already been ruined.
Her true identity had only been a bonus: Jodie Starling, now all grown-up, all fired-up to avenge her dad and about as deadly as an angry, declawed kitten. And also another loose end she would have to deal with alongside that man she had used as a distraction.
So confident in her plan! Until Calvados’ shot ripped through her abdomen and sent her to the ground. If it hadn't been for Silver Bullet and her beloved Angel’s (unwanted) interventions, she would have already gone to where she was supposed to go two decades ago. And then Akai had to also show his face where he was unwanted so she had no choice but to run.
The FBI kitten, her big bad hound and all the pawns at their disposal, had decided to join the game. It didn’t matter: outside of Akai and Starling, the rest were insignificant. The latter was nothing but someone to be killed and the first made for a good distraction and a useful piece on the chessboard for the real player, for the real saviour to maneuver.
Cool Guy, no, her Silver Bullet-kun, had shown her why she would trust her secret hopes to him and let him become the bullet that would pierce the black heart of the Organization, shattering and burning it to the ashes it should have long since turned into.
But a bullet meant nothing without the gun that fired it, nor could Kudou Shinichi do much by himself. He needed allies, he needed time to gain them and craft his base of operations and most importantly, he couldn’t be discovered, under any circumstances. Which brought her back to the Hattori boy.
Vermouth would have preferred to have had the real Kudou Shinichi himself step out in the spotlight, instead of the stuntman. She had thought she could have relaxed the moment she heard the voice through her earpiece. Vodka’s presence meant little: the crowd was the perfect hamper, while she had some underlings at hand to make sure he successfully made it out. Even better: it would have made Gin look like a fool and would have stopped the widespread usage of Miyano’s creation in assassinations.
That wouldn’t have stopped the unwanted research, but there was time for anything.
Hattori Heiji was a liability. If they were working together for such a matter, there was a high possibility that he knew.
That he knew that Kudou Shinichi and Edogawa Conan were the same person.
It wouldn’t have mattered… if he hadn’t attracted Vodka’s and subsequently Gin’s attention. And very likely Rum’s too now… after Gin had gleefully reported the matter to his superior.
That was a major problem. From their perspective, that boy had presented abilities similar to hers. Gin had rudely come to the conclusion that she had shared her secrets with said brat. How rude.
She could have covered up for him. Could have lied, could have pretended that she had given Gin something over her inside that game they had been playing for years. Then she could have found the Hattori boy, could have trained him for real, prepared his script for the time when her colleagues would come spurred on by their own preconceptions.
Oh, how much she could have done. How much she would have done. If it had been Angel instead.
The Osakan detective? She would have laughed out loud if not for the company. Not a single finger of hers would be lifted in his aid.
She didn't trust the boy. She didn’t know the boy’s full capabilities. While he managed to play a good enough show to fool the party attendees, she couldn’t trust in his abilities beyond that.
And most importantly, she didn’t care about him.
She had to eliminate him. And quickly, before he had the chance to place her treasures in danger.