"Haibara!" Conan screamed. He furiously pressed the button on the tiny black transmitter. The only noise that rewarded him was static.

The former teen stared dismally at the device in his hand for a second. That ice queen… those words… you don't mean…?

There was no answer. Haibara had most likely destroyed the transmitter.

Conan bit back the howl of pain rising in his throat. He resisted the urge to clutch at— no, to claw at the bullet wound on his leg. Blinding flashes of white dazzled his vision and he stumbled along the stark corridor. Fuck you…Gin… The long-haired silver assassin had wounded the shrunken teen before he could escape.

Haibara—

Just wait

I'll get to you

Somehow.

"You said not to try and escape my destiny, right?" Haibara's voice asked him, mockingly, through the transmitter. "I'm not going to run away. This is my destiny."

Both Conan and Ai had infiltrated a rundown building— in fact, a hiding place of a member of the org— to try and get some information. Little did they know that it was already a well-laid trap. Lying in wait for them was none other that Gin, who'd shot Conan. Both shrunken teens had been separated at this time, through a series of intricately set traps and mind-tricks that had Conan and Ai stumbling at every turn. Agasa, who had been patrolling from outside, had shouted at them to retreat. Maybe ten minutes ago. And that's when Haibara had contacted Conan.

"Oi— what do you mean, you're not running away?" She doesn't mean… no, she wouldn't. Would she?

"I'm not running away from my fate this time. This is my destiny, and I finally understand it. It was always meant to be."

"Do you mean that… you're…"

"Sayonara, Conan." Haibara cut him off.

"Haibara…! Haibara! Haibara!" he screamed.

No response.

Just static.

"Baka ne…" Conan limped weakly. A series of explosions shook the building. "You think… I'll just let… you go? With such a crappy explanation?" His mind was starting to lapse into periods of hazy blackness.

Suddenly, a scream shrilled from the floor above. Conan froze. Only one person in this building was capable of uttering a scream that high and sharp.

"Haibara!" He shouted, breaking into a dead run. The former tantei did his best to ignore the fiery blazes of pain flaming up his leg. You idiot… what have you done?

Reaching the fourth floor, where he'd heard the scream, he stopped for a second to regain his bearings. Conan flashed his head from side to side, wild and disoriented. Where are you? An empty hallway jeered at him. 'You'll never find her,' it mocked. 'Not in time, anyways.'

"Ai!" Conan yelled desperately, once again. "Where are you?" Another scream echoed through the hallways. Conan's eyes zeroed in on a door to the far left. There.

He bolted there. Faintly, his mind registered three words spoken by a man behind the door ('it's a deal') before he threw open the door, panting— and stopped dead. The sight that greeted him was far from pleasant.

His brain realized it in sharp fragments. Haibara. Wild cerulean eyes. Two gunshot wounds— shoulder and heel. The org. member they were after— Rum. His ash gold locks and ice blue eyes. Gagging her. Gun. In hand.

Conan was already swaying with blood loss (he had a wound on his head as well— blunt hilt of a sword) and suddenly he felt a rage flare up inside of him. Gunshot wound. Gun. In Rum's hand. Gagging Haibara. Screams. Two— bullet wounds and screams. He shot her. HE SHOT HER.

"You—!" Conan was about to start screaming when suddenly Rum placed the gun to Haibara's head. Conan stopped cold, glaring at Rum.

Rum rasped a dry laugh. "Come any closer, and she dies. Got it?"

Conan's mouth tightened. His fist clenched. I can't take the risk. I can't— not with Haibara's life at stake.

"Stop. Edogawa, just go." Conan stared at the former member of the organization with undisguised disbelief. Rum's gagging hand had slipped slightly, and the organization member seemed not to mind that his captive was talking.

"Haibara—you—"

The girl's aquamarine blue eyes were calm now. Calm and steel hard. "Go."

Conan stared into Haibara Ai's eyes. He looked into the eyes of the woman who'd made the poison that'd dragged him into the mess, into the eyes of the girl who'd lost her beloved sister and entire family, looked into the eyes of the person who'd become his partner over the years. Leave, they begged him. Please. He almost cracked, right then and there. Almost.

Instead, he let his fury leak out and take over. "You said that you were embracing your fate— your destiny— and your just going to get yourself killed? Is this what you meant? That you're going to kill yourself; that you're going to be selfish enough to just leave us, just leave me to fight them? Is that what you're doing?"

Conan hated himself for this, hated himself for blaming everything on Haibara, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't let the tsundere ice queen leave him— and it had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn't crafted an antidote for him yet. Nothing.

"I'm not leaving you for selfish reasons!" Conan flinched, like he'd been slapped. "I have this under control. You're always being the hero, just let me do this," please, her eyes pleaded him, "just trust me, goddammit." The last part struck a chord deep inside of him.

"Yeah, the girlie has it under control," snarled Rum, who had a sick gleam in his pale blue eyes.

Conan stumbled back, clutching his head. A sudden headache had swept over him. He was fatigued, hurt, aching. "Can I trust you?" He asked Haibara, looking desperate. He ignored Rum. "Can I," he swallowed, "really trust you to stay, Haibara?"

There was a silence, and then his partner, his Watson, looked him straight in the eye, and promised, "Yes."

Haibara looked at the boy with electric blue eyes and raven hair, who was fading fast. Just trust me, she'd told me. She watched how Conan had stumbled back, his cobalt eyes looking as fragile as shattered glass. Haibara hated having to pull that card on him. But she'd had to. Trust me, she'd told him.

Conan looked up. Looked straight into Haibara's eyes. "Can I trust you?" There was a quality in his eyes that pleaded with her. "Can I really trust you to stay, Haibara? Promise?"

Ai fought internally with herself. Rum's gun was still cold and hard against her the side of her head. If I'm Watson and Conan's Holmes, that means Mouri-kun is Irene, right? She knew, deep inside herself, that Mouri was the reason Conan was so desperate to return to his old self, to destroy the accursed syndicate. She was forever the side kick— and she didn't mind anymore. Once she'd finished the deal with Rum, her purpose was done. She knew Agasa would find the note on her laptop asking the hakase to hand Conan her final attempt at the antidote. Haibara knew Conan would be upset, but he'd get over it. His life was filled with people and love.

Haibara Ai was never meant to exist, anyways.

Can I really trust you to stay? Haibara looked into the boy's brilliant blue eyes, into the eyes of the boy who'd become more than a partner to her.

She fixed her gaze on Conan's beautiful blue eyes, burning them into her memory, and lied straight to his face. Can I trust you to stay?

"Yes."

Conan sagged in relief. Rum had pulled out a dart gun and shot a needle at him— it hit him on the neck. He felt the prick, and from the wooziness that ensued, he knew it was a sedative. But he didn't care. As his vision started blanking out on him, he stared into Haibara's eyes.

"You… promised…" Conan whispered, then swaying, his vision went black.

He could've sworn though, before he fell, that Haibara was mouthing something at him as a tear trickled down her chin.

An dazzlingly exquisite, crystal tear.

Sorry…

But there was nothing to be sorry about, right?

His Watson had promised.

She'd promised him.

Before Conan's subconsciousness completely submerged into a sea of ink black, he deciphered three more words. He was almost a hundred percent sure that Haibara had muttered three more words before he'd completely lost his grip on clarity.

I love you.

Was it possible… that she…?

"Conan?" Ran gently whispered.

The young boy's eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing a clear, cobalt blue.

"Ran…nee-chan." He said.

"Thank goodness you're okay," Ran smoothed back some of Conan's hair. "I was worried."

"A-ah," Conan stammered, "I'll be fine. I was just— uh—"

"It's okay, Conan, no need to explain." Ran laughed a little. "Agasa-hakase already told me. Be more careful next time." Then she left, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be back later, okay?" A flash of chocolate brown hair and his childhood sweetheart with the violet eyes departed.

"Oi, I wonder what kind of story Agasa invented…" Conan mused, when suddenly a thought hit him.

Haibara! He had a distinct feeling that there were more explosions after he'd blacked out, and that someone was dragging him outside. Then a warm sensation on his cheek, and the person was gone. What happened?

His phone, which had been lying on the dresser next to his hospital bed, vibrated. Picking it up, he saw the caller ID. Hiroshi Agasa.

"Moshi-moshi, Agasa-hakase."

"Oh, Conan-kun, you're awake." The professor's voice was slightly tinny and funny sounding.

"Oi, hakase, fix your phone reception. You sound weird."

"Ah, darned phone." There was a sound that resembled a hand bashing a telephone.

"Better?"

"Not really…" Conan sweatdropped.

"Anyways, I called because—"

"Is Haibara there?" Conan interrupted.

"What?" The professor sounded slightly flustered. "Why do you need Haibara?"

"Is she there or not?" Conan's voice was verging panicked. "She promised—"

"Calm down, baka." A familiar, cold voice broadcasted.

Conan visibly calmed. "Oh, there you are."

"What, you think I was lying to you?"

"N-no, I was just worried, is all." Now it was Conan's turn to be flustered.

"Aw, how sweet of you." Haibara's voice was sugary and sarcastic.

"There's something that's bothering me," Conan said slowly. "Before I blacked out, I could've sworn you said sorry… and, uh…"

"What? Spit it out, Edogawa."

"I thought I heard you say 'I love you'," Conan admitted.

There was a silence on the other end. "You must've hit your head somewhere, Kudo-kun. To think something that stupid… you must've been hallucinating," Haibara snorted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an antidote to craft." A fumble in the line was heard, and Agasa's voice came on again.

"Well there you go. Ai-kun. Anyways, I was going to tell you that since Ai's almost done with her antidote, you should come over after you're discharged from the hospital. Alright?" Without waiting for an answer, the hakase hung up.

"Weird…" Conan muttered. "What's wrong with him?"

"Ne, Conan-kun, you were just released from the hospital, are you sure you should go so soon?" Ran's voice was warm and motherly. "It's only been a day since you've woken up, anyways."

"It's okay, Ran-neechan, I feel all better now!" Conan smiled cheerfully at his childhood friend.

"Okay, well, be back before dinner, okay?"

"Okay!" Conan hopped on his skateboard and glided away, waving backwards.

Once he'd reached Agasa's home, he unlatched the gate and walked to the door. Trying the knob, he found it locked. Sighing, Conan knocked smartly twice. From the looks of the doorbell (slashed and smashed— all gooey too) Agasa's 'miracle' soap bubble doorbell idea had failed.

The door swung upon, revealing an old, portly man. "Ah, Conan-kun, it's you." Agasa ushered him inside.

As Agasa swept him by the kitchen and into the living room— propelling him, really— Conan noticed two strange things. One, the dishes hadn't been washed and were piled sky high. Two— the kitchen was a mess, as if someone had tried cooking and miserably murdered the recipe. Then forgot to clean up after himself or herself. Conan narrowed his eyes. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Sit, sit." Agasa all but pushed Conan down onto the creamy cushioned sofa.

Conan sat hard as Agasa flashed by, his footsteps echoing down to the basement. Haibara's lab.

"Oof," he grumbled. Suddenly, a needle-like flash pierced him. He almost jumped up from the seat. "Funny," he muttered, shifting. "The cushion's warm. Really warm. Like someone was just sitting on it—" Suddenly he froze as he felt a pair of eyes focus on him. His head whirled around.

Standing up, he called uneasily, "Who's there?"

No one answered, of course. At this moment, (either conveniently or unconveniently, depending on the way you look at it,) Agasa came back up. The old scientist seemed surprised to find the young boy standing, sending suspicious glances at his furniture.

"Uhh, Shinichi? Are you okay?"

Conan snapped out of it, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to ignore the prickling sensation telling him he was being watched. "Just fine. The antidote?" He asked, spying the luminous white pill in the hakase's hand.

"The last one," Agasa said, his eyes downcast.

Conan furrowed his brow. Something was severely off. Agasa looked like his cat (that didn't exist) just died. Was someone holding him up? Robbery? It would explain the stares he felt but not why Agasa was giving him an antidote. Unless it was poison?

"Are you okay, Agasa-hakase?" The boy peered into the older man's eyes.

Agasa looked up, the sheen on his glass reflecting light strangely. "Of course, Shinichi, why wouldn't I be?" He handed the pill to the shrunken teen. "It's the last one, it should be permanent."

Conan didn't believe Agasa for a second. And he didn't like the way the mad scientist had said 'last one,' as if it were the last thing Haibara would ever do.

"Should be?" Conan raised an eyebrow, when suddenly he felt the stare on his neck again. He whirled around, searching.

"Shinichi? Is something wrong?"

"Tch. I just feel like I'm being watched."

Was that alarm flashing across the hakase's features? It was gone so quickly Conan couldn't be sure. "No one else is in this house but us, Shinichi. Uh, that is, no one else but Ai-kun."

Conan snapped his fingers. "Right, Haibara. That's what felt strange… Where is she?"

"Resting," Agasa replied, a little too quickly. "I, uh," Agasa pushed his glasses up, "she's just upstairs, sleeping."

Suddenly, the young boy tensed. "Who's there?" He called, forcefully, whirling in a circle.

"Eh, what are you talking about?" Agasa chuckled nervously. "It's just me, you, and Haibara here, but she's sleeping."

"Why is Haibara sleeping in the middle of the day anyways?" The boy's voice rose. "Is there something wrong with her? Or are you trying to trick me—"

"SHUDDAP DOWN THERE, YOU BAKAS!" Haibara's voice screamed down the stairs. "I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!"

Agasa winced. "S-sorry, Ai-kun, I'll tell Conan to stop yelling." The older man looked at the young boy disapprovingly. "Even though Haibara wasn't in the hospital, she's still pretty tired. You shouldn't bother her."

"Sounds like she's PMS'ing," Conan muttered.

"I HEARD THAT!" Haibara shrilled, and the sound of a slamming door was heard.

Conan cleared his throat. "Well, that would explain the messy dishes and kitchen, I suppose. Haibara's too cranky to cook so you had to do it yourself. Really, Agasa-hakase, I have no idea how you survived without that girl."

An uneasy laugh later, and Conan was shoved out of the house and down the steps, pill in hand. Conan narrowed his blue eyes thoughtfully. The hakase had been almost too relieved when he'd nodded in agreement to Conan's explanations. Something was going on, and Conan didn't like it.

Not one bit.

"Ju. Kyu. Hachi. Shichi. Roku," Conan (or rather Shinichi) chanted. "Go, shi, san, ni, ICHI!"

The teenage boy whooped and pumped his fist. "The alotted time is over!" He checked himself over, making sure he hadn't shrunk again, giddily saying to himself, "The time period Agasa-hakase told me passed. I'm back, for good. Thank you so much, Haibara!"

It's great to be back, Shinichi thought dreamily, falling back onto his own soft bed half an hour later. He'd reclaimed his body. Oh, Shinichi launched off the bed as a thought hit him. I wonder if Haibara's going to turn back. Maybe she prefers it as a kid? Although I don't know why she would.

Huh. Shinichi jumped around his room, organizing it and getting ready. On Monday, he was back to school, and boy, he couldn't wait. Humming happily, the reverted teen started crafting his story for Ran. It still pained him to lie to her, but hopefully when everything was over, he would get his chance to explain. Also, Conan's disappearance would have to be arranged.

The tantei flopped on his couch. Maybe Haibara can pretend to be me again, just to say sayonara to the kids. He smiled softly. Man, he was going to miss the frolicking days they'd had. Grabbing the remote, Shinichi flipped on the television.

"Recently, we've found a caved in building," the female reporter tilted her head, staring into the camera, "and the police have been hard at work trying to dig under the rubble and see if we can find any survivors. The building was evacuated earlier this week, so we're crossing our fingers and hoping no bodies will be found. This is Mizukashi Azumi, we're here live to bring you all the latest news." The logo flashed, and the TV turned to ads.

Shinichi yawned and ran his fingers through his uncombed dark locks. That building had been the one he'd been in a week ago. I hope they find a body, Shinichi thought darkly. A body of a middle-aged man with pale blue eyes. Rum. But it was unlikely. Sighing, the famous detective wondered how his sunny mood had clouded over so quickly. Mm, well, I'll call Haibara tomorrow and ask her to fill in for me. Her banter is just what I need to cheer up, ne?

Agasa sat forlornly, staring at his own dimly lit television. The reporter, Mizukashi Azumi, had tumbling gold-brown locks and pretty blue-black eyes. They were piercing, and the hakase had a hard time swallowing. Not because the reporter was uncommonly pretty, however.

"How long can we keep up this game?" Yukiko voiced softly. "How long will we decieve Shin-chan?"

Agasa didn't answer.

"As long as we need to, love," Yusaku sighed. His voice was deep and worn-out.

"And we're back, this is Mizukashi Azumi," the reporter spoke cheerfully, her shoulders back and chin lifted. "The police seemed to have found some headway about the building, which as you folks remember, caved in due to explosions…"

Agasa winced. Hoarsely, he said, "We can't keep this up forever, you know. Shinichi is too sharp, too alert. He's going to figure it out eventually."

"We've kept him at bay for this long," Yusaku's voice was gravel.

"And we'll do our best to keep him that way," Yukiko finished. "But why?" She asked, gently placing a slim hand on the older professor's arm. "Why are we doing this?"

The hakase stared blankly ahead.

"Two bodies were found," Mizukashi-san intoned, her face the picture of sorrow. "It's a tragedy, it really is. One body was a man, guessed to be around thirty years of age. Closer examinations find that he is Himura Banko," a picture of Rum flashed across the screen, "and the police are currently trying to find if the man was a victim… or a culprit." Rum's ice blue eyes seemed to mock the hakase.

"Two victims," Yukiko repeated softly, her blue eyes misting with tears. "She was too young. She didn't deserve it…"

"Ai-kun chose it," the hakase swallowed hard. "It was completely her choice. She was dead-set on completing it."

"She told you in a note, right?" Yusaku confirmed.

"I burned it."

"…what?"

Agasa clenched his fist. "I burned it," he repeated, helplessly. "I burned her note. I have it completely memorized though. Every word."

"Are we ever going to tell Shin-chan?" Yukiko whispered softly. The lights in the hakase's house were dimmed, giving the room a somber mood.

"He'll figure it out. Soon enough." Agasa seemed too tired, too frail, to say any more. He looked out into the yard, out at Haibara's favorite place to sit besides in her lab. In the darkness, he could barely make out the outline of the rock she liked to perch on, staring wistfully into the sky. Her hair would blow in the light breeze, sparkling gold under the sun, or shining copper under the twinkling stars…

"But why?" Yukiko persisted. "Why can't we just tell Shin-chan?"

Agasa seemed to snap out of it. He focused his eyes on the grainy television set.

"The second victim is only a little girl," Mizukashi mourned, "approximately eight to nine years old. She appeared to be with the man, although further details are not known. Her identity is still unknown to us, but we've run some checks and this is how she would've looked." A heart-rendering shot of a girl that almost mirrored Haibara appeared. The jawline was too delicate, and her eyes were more emerald than sappire, but it was undoubtedly her. The same strawberry-blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face, the same penetrating eyes stared from the screen. A faint smile tweaked her lips.

Agasa swallowed hard, and Yukiko was afraid the old man was going to cry. "Ai-kun," he whispered, his voice so guttural that it broke both Yusaku and Yukiko's hearts.

The old man tore his eyes from the screen, facing the duo. "I couldn't tell Shinichi," his voice sounded dry and crackling, like fallen leaves, "because even though he loves Ran," the hakase bowed his head, shadows dancing, "even though the two always argued and bickered…"

Yukiko waited, clasping her hand with her husband's.

"Despite all that," Agasa-hakase voice was thick with unshed tears, "Haibara… she means more to the boy than he'll ever realize."

"It's terrible," Mizukashi Azumi dropped her head, "just terrible how such a young girl was killed. From the looks of the charred gun skeleton we found, with Himura's fingerprints on it, speak a terrible tragedy in itself. Currently, we think that the man must have held the girl hostage, killed her, and then set the series of explosions that collapsed the building."

Shinichi stared at the screen. His brain was flashing snapshots of the information, but processing it terribly slowly.

Himura Banko. Rum.

Unknown Girl. Who could only be…

Impossible, Shinichi argued with himself, fighting against the panic rising in his throat. I saw her. Afterwards. Right? I saw her, I definitely saw her.

No. With a sickening realization, Shinichi felt something snap inside of him. He'd never seen Haibara in person. He'd heard her voice, definitely, but he'd never seen her in the flesh. Shinichi realized how stupid he'd been, how easily he'd been fooled by the hakase and the other person (or people) that'd been pretending to be Haibara. The voice manipulator, he thought bitterly. Such a nifty gadget.

Shinichi tore off the couch, slamming a fist into the wall. It made a loud thunk, and his knuckles felt badly bruised, but he didn't care. He kept punching it, a white hot fire raging behind his closed eyelids. It took him a few moments to figure out the burning in his eyes were acid tears, tears that refused to drip down his face. A small part of him sighed, Oh the irony. I'm almost crying for the ice queen. But he couldn't muster enough conviction to mean what he thought.

He slammed open the door, and the sudden wash of black sky and blazing pinpricks of light drained all his energy away. Don't imagine that there are souls out there, that there exists something beyond death, Haibara's cold voice whispered in his ear. A memory. All that's up there is nothingness and deadly balls of fire. Everything beautiful in this world is a lie with a pretty ribbon tied on top.

"That was lie too, wasn't it." Shinichi's voice broke, and he crumpled onto the cool blades of grass in his front lawn. He stared up at the breathtaking sky, and with some difficulty, swallowed.

Everything's just a lie with a bow tied on top…

"You promised!" Shinichi screamed, suddenly. His fists clenched grass, uprooting the baby shoots. "You promised me, Haibara! You told me I could trust you! How…" Shinichi's voice cracked, and a hot trail flashed down his cheek. "How could you just lie to my face? All those words, your pretty ribbon, was it just masking your bare-faced lie?" The teen didn't feel like himself, not at all; there was a quality in him like shattered glass. The wetness on his cheeks and lump in his throat…

"Is that all?" Shinichi asked the sky. "Is that all I'm worth to you? You gave me what I wanted, Haibara, but not what I needed."

The stars flickered coldly in response, the velvet black sky deep and unanswering.

"I need you." Tears, for the first time since third grade when he'd broken his wrist, streamed continuously down his face. "I love Ran, it's true, but I need you too. Why… I trusted you, I believed in you… why didn't you believe in me?" His voice was plaintive now, stripped of all confidence and bluster. "Why," he whispered hoarsely, "didn't you trust that I could fix this all somehow? That I could save the both of us?"

The breeze suddenly picked up, tousling Shinichi's messy raven hair. A golden shooting star left a blazing ribbon across the sky. And in that moment, Shinichi could've sworn he heard her voice.

"Baka, so selfish," the breeze whispered. "You can't always be the hero, and you don't need me."

Shinichi bolted upright, then relaxed his shoulders ever so slightly. "What if I do, though?" He asked softly. "What if we all need you?"

The breeze seemed to swirl around the lanky boy, and the feminine voice whispered in his ear, "You don't… and you will move on. Remember? Everyone's waiting for you…" The wind seemed to fade a bit, die down.

"You promised," Shinichi's voice cracked on the word again. "You promised you would stay…!"

"And you promised to return to Mouri-san," the air countered, the wind growing fainter. "Your safe now. You can live your life." The wind whistled lightly, almost sighing. "Move on, Kudo. Let me be the hero for once in my life. Let me be…" the voice dimmed, "let me be a savior instead of a killer."

"No," Shinichi shook his violently, "don't go, not yet…!"

But the air stilled, and he knew she was gone.

Forever.

"You ahou," Shinichi muttered, his blue eyes dark with grief. "You aren't the hero… you're the martyr. If you had just let me… let me be the one…" Shinichi dropped his head, his bangs shadowing his eyes. Move on, the voice continued whispering in his head.

"But what if I can't?" Shinichi's voice was low. Then keep me in your heart, and I'll live on, Haibara smirked inside of him. No matter how cliché that sounds, tantei. And you better get your arse in gear, or my death will be for nothing.

When the teen finally stood up, his joints creaked like an un-oiled gate. He knew he was a mess, but frankly, he didn't care. Walking into his house, he picked up his phone.

"S-shinichi?" Agasa's voice sounded frail and guilty.

Shinichi closed his eyes, swaying slightly. Swallowing, he spoke.

"Hakase— we need to talk."

Hakase—

If you have this note, I guess I've been successful. Kudo hasn't saved me, and my deal is finished. The organization member we're after, I have a feeling it may be a trap. Whoever we may find, whether it be Chardonnay, Merlot, Rum, or Cognac, will go after me. I'm the grand prize, after all. I'll make a deal. You don't know how much these men will give to be able to kill me, Sherry, and report it back to the organization. If it happens to be Rum or Cognac, though, they might end up blowing themselves up too. Keep Edogawa safe, give him this antidote. It's my final effort, I really hope it works. If not, well… I'm so sorry. But he has his whole life.

The deal I'm making… they'll erase all records of Kudo Shinichi, and he'll no longer be a target for the organization. You have to understand that I've done some shadow dealing, something I'd rather not mention right now. Before they realize that my deal is half fake, Kudo should already have them. I know, obviously, he'll never give up. So tell him, for me, that he should take advantage of the chance I've given him. Please. Beat them. Tell him, if need be, that doing so is my last wish. That should get him, ne? He's always been into the dramatics, dying wishes and passionate love stories…

I've taken my story, this brittle black story written and scratched by others, and written my own end. Don't grieve too long, hakase. You have a life too.

I know you're going to have some problems… and I'll give you a few last words of wisdom.

Buy a cookbook.

-Haibara Ai (is no more)

A fluttering paper delicately flaps its wings in the breeze, weighted down by a single blossom. The perch rock in Agasa's backyard is engraved. Haibara Ai, may she rest in peace forever. The black inked paper is like a light butterfly, the penned words flowing and stark black.

Haibara—

I'll defeat them if it's the last thing I do. Agasa has bought a cookbook, but I'm afraid he still hasn't figured out the difference between a tablespoon and a teaspoon, nor does he know the difference between boiling and braising. Also, he seems to have trouble distinguishing chili powder and hot cocoa. I don't think the cookbook is helping. I fear he's going to blow up the house one day.

You lied, you told me to trust you, and you left. I can't do anything about that, and that's what breaks me up inside. And just for the record, I'll still pick up a mystery book as compared to a 'passionate love story.' I'll avenge you, because as you said, I have a flair for dramatics. But that's not all. You deserved to live, you more than anyone, who has had so much pain. Don't you know that after the hurricane comes the rainbow? Although I suppose you never liked such bright and empty things.

I've told you, and I'll say it again— we need you, Haibara. What am I going to say to the kids? Conan and Haibara, gone in a flash. What is Agasa going to do? What— what am I going to do? I could've done it. I could've saved us both, could've defeated them without your death. But it's too late— and all I can say now is that when I find you in the after world, you have some serious explaining to do.

Why did you leave…?

-Kudo Shinichi

In the glowing sunset, it's hard to pick it out… but the ink is blotted and blued from where splatters of water stained the paper. Salt water, tear water.

'Why did you leave?'