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The first time Shuichi Akai meets Conan Edogawa, his gaze slips straight past the boy. He's not on this bus for children. He's only here to find his target and even Vermouth couldn't disguise herself as a kid that small. However, when their simple bus ride turns into a hostage situation, Conan Edogawa suddenly becomes far more interesting.
Not that Akai actually learns his name until much later. Right now he's just a stranger, a child who is far too calm for the guns pointed in his face.
The kid tries to hide it. He pretends at nervousness, playing up his fear for the hijackers and other passengers. All of whom appear to take him at face value. Why wouldn't they? No one suspects a child, particularly one who seems to be acting normally.
However, Akai has spent a lifetime reading people. He may not know exactly why this boy is pinging on his radar. He may be too focused on stopping the hijackers to give that thought real attention, more concerned with what's actually life-threatening than a feeling of unease. But the man knows something isn't right and once the dust has settled – criminals in custody, his targets in the wind – Akai reconsiders the encounter carefully.
The agent always does this after missions, runs through his actions step by step to determine what he can improve. But this time Akai has no concerns about his own performance. The child's behavior is the thing worries him. That kid doesn't fit with the rest of the picture; his actions fall outside standard parameters.
So Akai pulls the police report for the hijacking to put a name to the face and then looks up Conan Edogawa in his limited free time. It's not a priority. As far as the agent knows, this kid has nothing to do with the Black Organization. Akai is simply curious and at first glance, Conan Edogawa is completely ordinary. Too ordinary for his suspicious mind.
Over the next few months, Akai keeps digging deeper and the information he discovers only intrigues him more. Because this kid barely existed before he came to Tokyo – the sign of a good cover or a very boring life – yet after is another story entirely. Although Edogawa seems to avoid the spotlight as much as possible, his name appears over and over on the periphery of crimes.
Japanese police records don't cross-reference cases by bystanders but the agent has more access than the average officer and that difference makes the pattern impossible to miss. Edogawa is never the culprit and only rarely the victim, but he stumbles onto bodies like they're being thrown down at his feet. The sheer number of witness statements that he's given is actually mind-boggling, the total only growing when Akai expands his search past Tokyo.
Was this boy cursed by a grim reaper? he wonders once he puts it all together.
The agent might have assumed the boy was some kind of criminal mastermind if not for the confessions that follow in his wake. While Edogawa witnesses more murders than any normal child should, his presence also seems to guarantee that the true culprits are taken into custody. Indeed, Akai is starting to think that this kid had more to do with sleeping Mouri's rise to fame than the man himself, the timing too precise to be coincidence.
When their paths cross again, Akai only becomes more certain that Edogawa isn't your average 7-year-old kid. The boy doesn't talk or act like a child. The intelligence within his gaze is too sharp to be contained and he wields each deduction like a dagger forged of truth. If Akai were to close his eyes and listen, he'd think that he was speaking with a seasoned officer.
That alone would be suspicious. But as soon as Edogawa notices the agent's interest, he transforms before his eyes. Suddenly he's just a wide-eyed child throwing out suggestions that he saw on TV. It's a master deflection worthy of an undercover agent and yet that's a strike against him in the end.
If Edogawa always acted like a strange genius child, at least that would be consistent. His attempt to hide his actions through performed normality just means that he has secrets he doesn't want to share.
Though likely no formal training or he wouldn't slip so much.
Maybe that's unfair. Akai knows exactly how difficult undercover work can be. He's watched veterans shatter after only a few weeks on the job, unable to handle the strain of living someone else's life. Whereas for Edogawa, it's been months at minimum. No wonder he's grown complacent now that the people around him have gotten used to his odd quirks. Indeed, the kid's companions seem to find his acting stranger than the genius underneath. They look to him for answers and the need to solve this murder makes Edogawa throw his caution to the wind. Whatever is going on here, the boy does appear to be for justice overall.
When the agent finally learns the truth, that high school detective Shinichi Kudo was turned into a child by the Black Organization, he's not as surprised as he should be. The idea is insane. People don't grow younger. However, Akai can't argue with the facts, no matter how wild they might seem, and learning about Kudo resolves so many mysteries.
Because the kid is still brilliant. That's unmistakable. Watching his brain work is astounding, the way he makes connections that no one else has seen. Even Akai has trouble following some of Kudo's leaps, his only errors borne from inexperience. With a bit more practice, the boy will be unstoppable. Yet that genius fits more easily on a teenager than a child and watching him with that in mind, Akai can see Kudo beneath Edogawa's skin.
However, learning the truth also leads the agent to his first true mistake. Because he thinks he's cracked the secret of Shinichi Kudo. Akai thinks he understands why the kid is fighting so hard to return to his old life and he ignores all the signs that should tell him otherwise.
When Kudo chuckles at his phone during a late night planning session, expression soft and smiling, Akai doesn't think to ask who he's talking to. The man simply assumes that he's speaking with Ran Mouri and dismisses the emotion as a teenage crush not worth acknowledging, even when those quiet smiles become more commonplace.
The day their plans require someone to stand in for teenage Kudo, the kid just laughs and tells him, “Yeah, I know a guy.”
No further explanation. No name given or reason stated for the faith that Kudo shows. Just that burst of amusement and a quiet confidence. Akai only learns that he asked Heiji Hattori for a favor when the Osakan finally reveals himself, the other detective playing his part to a tee.
That should make him suspicious. That should make his instincts scream and the agent does wonder how the two boys know each other. But that's as far as the thought goes. Because Akai decides that Kudo must have helped Hattori on a case before becoming Edogawa, the explanation neatly fitting this new evidence into the version of his ally that he's built inside his mind.
Sure Akai is curious about Kudo's strange hatred for that mystery play based on Mr. Mouri and why the kid so often travels out of Tokyo. But the agent has plenty to juggle between faking his own death and chipping away at the Black Organization piece by piece. There's no reason for him to spend precious time delving into Kudo's quirks, not when quirks are all they seem to be.
So he asks no questions and he gets no answers, living by his assumptions for more than a year. Nothing changes until the kid masterminds a plan to retrieve the apotoxin data, another attempt to gain a foothold in their ongoing war.
Kudo has created a bait and switch that seems completely faultless when they run through the details and it's no wonder Starling gladly signs on to the scheme. She still doesn't know about Akai, but at this point she knows Kudo, and that's enough for them to work together comfortably. There are backup plans, of course – there are always backup plans – but that's just the agent's paranoia. He doesn't think they'll need them.
No one could have anticipated the string of awful luck that ruins everything.
First Vodka leaves the hideout in the middle of the day, driven by a sudden craving for onigiri that takes him down the block. This impulsive decision throws off their planned timeline almost instantly. Suddenly, Akai is forced to dodge around Gin while he waits for his partner, already in the building and too late to flee.
Then Starling and Kudo are barely able to start searching for the apotoxin data before a fire alarm goes off in the cafe on the ground floor. Some idiot decided to smoke in the bathrooms instead of standing in the cold. That business isn't actually part of the Black Organization; their holdings are limited to the upper floors. But the alarm triggers an evacuation of the entire building and even Akai's backup plans didn't account for that.
During the exodus, Gin grows suspicious of the policemen who step in to direct the crowd. Those officers aren't members of Starling's operation – just local cops trying to help out – but that's enough for the criminal to cut his losses and turn scorched earth policy. With that decision, the false alarm becomes a real one, an inferno quickly sweeping across the upper floors.
When Akai realizes what Gin has done, he races back for Kudo, barely managing to reach the kid before the fire does. Starling has already split off to draw Vodka's attention, forcing the two of them to escape from the blaze alone.
Of course, the criminal stayed behind to watch the conflagration and Akai nearly runs into him on their way out. The agent is forced to dive into the river with Kudo to protect both their identities, that desperate move enough to get Gin off their trail. However, dripping wet and empty-handed isn't how he wanted to return to Kudo's house.
Home sweet borrowed home, Akai thinks as he shuts the door behind them. He grabs some towels from the hall bathroom, tossing one to Kudo and then wringing out his clothes. Just enough to avoid leaving puddles as he walks to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. Akai takes a sip and leans against the counter wearily, the whiskey's burn doing little to ease his disappointment with today's sheer clusterfuck.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Kudo says from the kitchen doorway, an unwitting echo of the agent's thoughts. “Next time I'll have to plan for Vodka's stomach too.”
The kid's words are muffled by the towel as he scrubs at his soaking hair, but he doesn't sound unhappy. If anything Kudo seems strangely cheerful, more amused than angered by the mess that they've been through.
“Why are you so happy?” Akai asks, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. “We failed in our objective.”
“That's where you're wrong,” the boy answers with an easy grin, not exactly smug but supremely confident.
Before Akai can ask what the hell that means, the front door bursts open and a blur of movement rushes to Kudo's side. The shape resolves into an older teenager, dark-skinned and muscular, with bright green eyes that stare down at Kudo in concern.
“Are ya okay?” the stranger demands. “Why ain't ya gotten changed yet? Do ya have any injuries?”
Based on the age and his Osakan accent, this is most likely Heiji Hattori. Akai has never actually met the teen in person before now. Though that doesn't explain what the western detective is doing here or why he'd be fussing over Conan Edogawa so ferociously. What's even weirder is that Kudo doesn't seem surprised.
“Heiji, I'm fine,” is all he says, those calm words confirming the dark-skinned teen's identity. “It's just a bit of water.”
“An' what about dat bruise all down yer leg?” the Osakan retorts. He grabs Kudo's jaw with one hand, tilting his head back and forth as though to check him over before taking the towel out of his hands.
Akai almost interferes then. As far as he's aware, Hattori doesn't know Conan Edogawa and a stranger shouldn't take those liberties. But Kudo doesn't protest when the teen starts to dry his hair, gentle motions contrasting sharply with the whirlwind earlier. Instead the kid relaxes, leaning into the Osakan with a sigh that leaves the agent stumbling. How can this be the same boy who still bristles when Akai gets too close to him?
“Ya can't make me worry like dis, Shinichi. Ya said dat you'd be careful,” Hattori continues, finishing with Kudo's hair and moving to his clothes.
“I was careful. We just got unlucky. But I promise I'm all right.”
His tone is low and reassuring, face glowing with a smile that Akai is sure he's seen before. Indeed, the man is so focused on placing the expression that it takes him longer than it should to realize exactly what Hattori said. However, once he does, a single question takes priority.
“You know who he really is?” Akai demands, sharp in his surprise, and both detectives startle like they'd forgotten he was there. Perhaps the Osakan never noticed but Kudo should have remembered that he had an audience.
“Ah well,” Hattori starts. “About dat...”
The teen cuts himself off before glancing down at Kudo with an unspoken question. If the agent had to guess, he's asking for permission and indeed, he soon relaxes once again.
“A' course I know about Shinichi. I've known da truth fer years.”
Kudo nods his agreement, patting the other boy on the shoulder as he turns to face Akai properly. He still seems far too calm for the situation, his expression an odd mix of fond and serious.
“I suppose it is time to introduce you. Heiji, this is Shuichi Akai. I've told you about him. Akai, this is Heiji Hattori, my fiance.”
“Your what?”
He must have heard that wrong. However, neither boy admits to joking as he stares at them in shock. Kudo just stares back without flinching and says again, “My fiance.”
This time the words are pointed, a hint of fire underneath that should warn Akai to tread carefully. But he's too surprised to notice, too unsettled by the feeling that a rug has been pulled out from under him.
“You're engaged? But he's...” the agent trails off into a vague hand gesture. “And you're a kid.”
“Really? I hadn't noticed,” Kudo retorts, irritation bleeding into a proper scowl. “We were engaged before this happened – not that it's any of your business – and I'd have married him already if I had a damn cure.”
He looks ready to tear into Akai for his assumptions. However, before the kid can work himself into a proper rant and slice the man to ribbons, Hattori interrupts.
“Ya know I don't mind waitin',” the Osakan says with zero fear of Kudo's anger or his truly vicious tongue. He just ruffles the other boy's hair, his gaze nothing but adoring, and his fiance melts beneath that warmth. The kid's rage disappears between one breath and the next, leaving behind a blushing Kudo that Akai finds unfamiliar.
“That's only because you're too nice for your own good.”
“Nah, it's cuz yer da one worth waitin' fer.”
Except the man has seen that smile, finally placing the expression within his memory. Every time the boy has mentioned that he's going to Osaka, every time he's chuckled while texting on his phone. That's the smile Akai thought was meant for Ran Mouri and he's only just now realizing how badly he's misjudged.
“It's been two years, Shinichi. Ya should know by now dat I ain't goin' anywhere.”
“I do know that, Heiji,” Kudo replies. “I just hate that I can't be your husband already. I'm tired of stealing moments whenever I change back to my old body. I want the world – and Momoji – to know that you aren't free.”
The agent has also heard that tone before, a distinctive mix of fondness and possession underlying every word. It takes him back to half spoken conversations, calls that ended moments after he walked into the room. Indeed, Akai is rethinking many previous encounters – many comments from Kudo's parents that he'd brushed off at the time.
“Da world not knowin' about us don't mean dat I ain't yers,” Hattori continues without an ounce of shame. “But we may not hafta wait much longer, given how Haibara jumped on da data earlier. I thought she was gonna take my hand off along da way.”
“Yeah, Haibara is scary sometimes. I didn't realize you'd already given her the data,” Kudo says before his grin turns teasing. “Though you know I'm very fond of your hands so I'm glad to see that you made it out unscathed.”
Dear lord, he's actually flirting. Akai wasn't aware the kid knew how to do that even as Hattori seems to take the words in stride.
“I stopped by Agasa's first. I was expectin' ya ta be dere gettin' checked fer injuries. Should've known ya'd be too stubborn ta get yerself looked at. I dropped off da data since I was dere already but don't think yer escapin' gettin' a checkup now.”
“I wasn't trying to avoid it, love. We just got back ourselves.”
“Wait, what data?” Akai asks. He's been listening to their conversation in something of a stupor, trying to reconcile his picture of Shinichi Kudo with this new reality. However, he's still an agent and he can't let a contradiction pass him by.
The room goes silent at his question, so quiet that it echoes, before both boys turn to look at him in perfect unison. They definitely forgot that I was here again.
“Da apotoxin data a' course,” Hattori replies with a shrug. However, that statement only adds to Akai's confusion now.
“We didn't retrieve the data. We were too busy scrambling.”
“You're right. We didn't get it. That's why Heiji did,” Kudo tells him. He says it like it's obvious – the expected outcome – but Akai would have remembered if the kid had mentioned this.
“He... You... I made our backup plans and he wasn't in them. When did you tell Hattori that he needed to step in?”
“Oh, I didn't,” Kudo answers, chuckling like that's the funniest thing the agent could have asked. “I knew Heiji would realize what was happening and handle things from there.”
“Da fire alarm was hard ta miss,” the Osakan agrees cheerfully. “I slipped in through da confusion an' swiped da data when Gin was gettin' paranoid. In an' out before da buildin' burned. Didn't even need ta knock nobody out along da way.”
“That's why I told you the mission hadn't failed.”
Stated like that, their explanation almost sounds logical. But Kudo said those words to Akai before the Osakan confirmed he was successful or that he even knew about the change in plans. Which means the kid had simply trusted Hattori to come through and neither boy seems to think that faith is odd.
Akai is more shocked by this than their engagement because Kudo simply doesn't trust in anyone. He gives up control begrudgingly, delegates only when he has to, and still forces the agent to repeat their plans six times before he's satisfied. Maybe it's a side effect of genius and the simple fact that most people can't keep up with his deductions. Maybe it's due to the crazy turns that Kudo's life has taken. Akai doesn't begrudge the kid his paranoia. He's simply astonished to see it set aside.
This entire conversation has been a revelation. Kudo clearly trusts Hattori without hesitation, no hint of second-guessing, and that means the Osakan has never let him down unforgivably. Faith like that only comes from experience, from throwing out a hand into the darkness and receiving an answer every time. Never left to falter. Never left alone to drown.
Even now, Kudo and Hattori are completely comfortable, ignoring Akai's internal struggle as they talk between themselves. Their banter flows easily, sliding from ciphers to past cases to catching up on mutual friends without a pause. The Osakan has no trouble following each jump in topic, the odd deduction bouncing off each other easily. Hattori seems to have a different sort of genius, Kudo sharper and more focused than his fiance, but there's a genius nonetheless and with that realization comes a wave of clarity.
If Kudo actually found someone he trusts that deeply, someone smart enough to catch him and who cares enough to stay, of course they're getting married as soon as possible. Akai would have fought through hell itself for a love that powerful; how could he not understand when Kudo does the same?
And these boys are in love. Once he finally lets go of his preconceptions, that's impossible to miss. It's in the softness of Kudo's tone and the warmth of Hattori's smile, how they gravitate toward each other's touch. Akai can see the truth in the Osakan's fretting and Kudo's calm reassurance, the way he lets his fiance pick him up easily.
The kid pouts a little but he doesn't actually protest, instead relaxing fully when Hattori says, “I'm not lettin' ya walk on dat leg until da professor looks at ya.”
“Fine, fine,” Kudo grumbles, every inch the disgruntled teen that he should be, and Akai has to bite back a chuckle at the sight.
“Do ya need anythin' before I take Shinichi ta get looked at?” Hattori asks, looking over at the agent. He's honestly a bit surprised the teen remembered about him. Maybe the detective was more aware of his surroundings than it seemed.
“No, I'm fine,” Akai tells him. “Nothing a warm shower can't fix. I'll meet you at Agasa's when I'm done.”
The Osakan takes his answer at face value, giving a short nod before carrying his fiance toward the door. He's almost out of sight when a sudden impulse makes Akai call out, “Hey, Kudo. You'd better invite me to your wedding.”
“A' course ya kin come,” Hattori says, turning back to look at him. “Can't leave ya out when ya've spent so long keepin' dis guy alive.”
“You'll get an invitation,” Kudo agrees. But then he narrows his eyes in warning and adds icily, “Though Heiji being my fiance is still a secret. If that changes in the future, I'll know how it got out and act accordingly.”
Akai blinks at the sudden shift in tone, both amused and taken aback by the blatant threat to his own safety. The kid has never talked to him like that before. In truth, he's gotten nicer warnings from some hardened criminals.
“Shinichi, ya shouldn't say dat. Ya know he wouldn't spill anythin' on purpose an' I kin protect myself,” Hattori scolds, piping up in the agent's defense before Akai can speak. “Yer still invited ta da wedding. So don't take it personally.”
The Osakan gives him a short apologetic bow and then carries Kudo out the door. Despite Hattori's words, the other boy doesn't seem repentant. He just gives Akai one more pointed glare before they disappear into the hallway, as though to emphasize that he meant every word.
Amusement wins at that point and the man starts laughing, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the entire scene. Something to fight for indeed. Kudo didn't need to warn him. Akai would die before betraying a friend to the Black Organization and from everything he's heard, Hattori seems like a good person. Fiance or not, the agent wouldn't throw him to the wolves.
Now that he's recovered from his shock, Akai is simply glad that Kudo has someone to keep him anchored. This may not be what he expected or what he thought was true, but that's his own fault for assuming without real evidence. Indeed, Hattori's existence explains a lot about how Kudo has managed to say sane and keep from disappearing into Edogawa's life, his strange quirks no longer quite so strange at all. Though I still need to find out why he hates that play someday.
So Akai finishes his drink and goes to take a shower, still chuckling over Kudo's threat and the odd turn that this day took. Yet beneath the humor, there's a streak of something fragile – a thought he can't acknowledge even to himself.
Because if Kudo has somehow found real love despite his truly bizarre situation, maybe there's still hope for the rest of them as well. Not for romance, Akai has put those dreams behind him. But once the Black Organization has finally been defeated, maybe even he has a chance at happiness.
End