A/N: Just realized I never posted this on this site. FYI, my newer stories are all up on AO3 (same username as here, viridiansky) - I'm really not a fan of this site's UI/UX and I get a lot more feedback on AO3 aha.

Chapter 2

After a fitful night's sleep, Shuichi decides he won't believe it, not until he sees a proper body and maybe even not then.

This was Bourbon. He would pop up a few months later with a smirk on his face and a mocking look to his eyes and the only thing he would say would be, "What, Akai, you thought I was actually dead?"

But he doesn't want to just wait for that to happen, because having Furuya get one over him again would really be rather irritating.

(He doesn't want to wait for it to happen, because if it isn't going to happen…)

So he decides to investigate the death. With the Organization as quiet as it was at the moment, figuring out the details of Furuya's death - of Furuya's 'death' - was as good of a lead as anything else.

He tries to bully the PSB's coroners into letting him see the body but fails. He does manage to get ahold of an autopsy report though.

Unfortunately it's mostly a dead end - the body in the photos is too badly burnt to be identified. It's only because Furuy- the body was wearing gloves that his fingerprints mostly survived.

It's not a complete dead end though, because while Bourbon did often wear gloves, the charred remains on this body's hands look different from the gloves Shuichi recalls so well. They seem to be the same kind of shape, certainly, but they're clearly thicker and lined with fire-resistant material on the inside. It's suspicious, very suspicious, and if Shuichi latches onto the clue a bit more quickly than he really should've, well, no one will know but him.

He also asks about the witness whose phone they supposedly used to verify the fingerprints - because if there was a trick here, he suspects it would be there - but sadly the PSB investigators don't give in. They refuse to tell him any information about the witness due to 'confidentiality' and because they've 'already confirmed Inspector Furuya's death to a satisfactory extent'.

They won't even tell him which operative killed Furuya.

Shuichi just clicks his tongue at them and storms out of the office. He'll just have to investigate on his own - he's used to that.

(And when he figured out which Organizative operative was the one to kill Furuya, he would do his utmost to ensure he was the one to shoot a bullet between their eyes.)

He's invited to Furuya's funeral. A normally stoic woman - a senior police officer he's seen running around in Kazami's squad a few times - is the one to surreptitiously extend him the invitation after a joint meeting.

She trips over the word 'funeral' as she invites him and walks away a little too quickly. He can't blame her.

Shuichi has no intention of attending Furuya's funeral, though he feels a little regretful after they went out of their way to invite him.

But he refuses to believe Furuya is dead.

(If he goes to his funeral he might have to admit it.)

Two weeks after Furuya's 'death' he gets a text from Akemi, and he feels a jolt of horror shoot through him because in his single-minded focus he had completely forgotten to text her about - anything.

The text is short but decidedly not sweet.

Are you free tonight? I want to talk.

His first instinct, first urge, is to give an immediate yes, to go a step further and say he'll come immediately.

But tonight, he's managed to set up a meeting with one of Furuya's former clients - one of the people Furuya had helped as a private eye. He hopes that she might be able to give some insight into Furuya that Shuichi didn't know. He can't abandon the meeting for his personal woes.

(If he had worried a little more - if he had actually tried to track Furuya down instead of letting it go, then maybe -)

So instead he just sends:

I'm free after nine.

An hour later - it's well into the afternoon by then - he gets a response.

Okay. See you then.

He's meeting a woman named Kamon Hatsune tonight - single, a relatively unpopular fashion blogger, apparently has a twin brother she only learned about recently. Shuichi only found her because as he was trawling through the Internet for anything of interest, he discovered Kamon's blog. She had made a blog post where at the very end, as almost an afterthought, she thanked a 'Detective Amuro' for 'saving her from doing something rash during a tough part of her life'.

Naturally, it piqued his curiosity.

He was pleasantly surprised when the woman had tentatively agreed to meet with him for dinner to talk about how she knew Furuya.

He pretended that he was just a fellow private eye trying to track down a friend who disappeared, rather than an FBI agent trying to prove a PSB agent faked his death.

Shuichi sets up the meeting in a very public family restaurant to keep her at ease - any information she might have couldn't be really confidential either way.

He thought he wouldn't hear anything more unbelievable than Akemi's story of Bourbon saving her, but Kamon's story puts it to shame.

"I was going to get married, you know," is what she starts out with, voice a little wretched, a little heart-broken. Shuichi stares and doesn't stop until she finishes her story.

Furuya had approached her and her twin brother - her then-fiancé - and told them he had been investigating the fire that they had been saved from as babies, and then that he had reason to believe that they were twin siblings. Her brother, Banba, didn't believe him but Kamon had her own suspicions and decided to contact a clinic to have a DNA test done.

She admits quietly that she was at a loss when she found out what Furuya said was true, that she didn't know what to do. But Furuya followed up with her, sat her down at Café Poirot, gave her a nice slice of cake on the house, and talked.

Talked about how he was an orphan too, that he never knew his family. Talked about what he would've given to find any of his family, what he still might be willing to give up today. Asked her what she would've given, as a child, to find any of her family.

"And it wasn't as if it didn't hurt," Kamon murmurs, the look on her face subdued. "It still hurt, it still hurts, and I love - I loved Raita so much. But hearing him say that, it reminded me of everything I wanted as a child - to find my family. And it made me want to give things a chance after all, to try to be a family even if it wasn't in the way I wanted."

Kamon rubs at one of her eyes with a hand and Shuichi tactfully averts his gaze for a moment. When he turns back towards her, she's standing up from her booth seat, expression melancholic.

"I'm sorry for spending this whole time talking, it's just I haven't really had anyone to talk to about the whole thing," says Kamon, "Thank you for listening - I hope it was of some help. If you find Detective Amuro, Moroboshi-san, could you just tell him - thank you? If he hadn't talked to me then, I think I would've done something I would really regret. I really appreciate what he did for me."

Her voice still sounds a little heartbroken, but the smile she gives him as she leaves is calmer than it had been earlier that evening. Though she's almost a complete stranger, Shuichi still feels somewhat glad he could be of help in return for her cooperation - because while the information was useless towards his hunt for Furuya, it was intriguing nonetheless.

It was yet another example of Furuya knowing things that were strange for him to know, and while that may be Furuya's job, Shuichi still suspects there's something more to Furuya's strange knowledge.

(Aside from that, of course, he also got a small tidbit about Furuya's background, about what made him the person he was, and he's surprised at how eagerly his mind grabbed at the new information and squirreled it away.)

So when he leaves the family restaurant shortly after Kamon, his feelings are mixed.

The story he had heard was horrifying - he has no idea what he would do if he found out the person he loved was actually related to him.

But he can't help but be a little cheery at the new information on Furuya, so it's with a mixed heart that he heads to Akemi's apartment.

When Akemi opens the door for him, she doesn't step aside to let Shuichi in. Instead, she stands in the doorway, body still and face serious.

"Shuichi-kun," she says calmly.

Shuichi furrows his brow. "...Akemi?"

Akemi closes her eyes, takes a breath, two, and says quietly, "Should we break up?"

He freezes, throat running dry, and opens his mouth to say something, anything - "Akemi-"

"Are you happy, Shuichi-kun, being with me?" asks Akemi, glancing downwards, and Shuichi reaches a hand out to lightly touch her shoulder. It's immediately shrugged off, and so he brings his hand back, frowning.

"Of course I am," Shuichi tells her. It was Akemi. They spent so long wanting to see each other, wanting to be together and -

-and Shuichi doesn't even spend time with her, and when he does he's distracted. No wonder Akemi is feeling insecure.

She sighs, ever-so-softly - he barely catches the sound of her breath coming out of her mouth.

"Even if you say that…" she says, then shakes her head. "I'm not just blaming you, Shuichi-kun. These past two weeks - I could've messaged you. But I didn't either, because - I didn't want to."

"Akemi-"

"-Just, listen, please," says Akemi, cutting Shuichi off. He shuts his mouth, and she continues, "Even on Valentine's, it felt like we were going through the motions more than anything else. It was nice for the day, but the next day things immediately went back to normal - to nothing. I want you to really ask yourself - do you still love me?"

"Yes," Shuichi says immediately, with no hesitation, and Akemi just shakes her head again. He frowns, a little annoyed at her dismissal.

"I'm not sure if I love you anymore," Akemi says softly, and Shuichi's mouth slams shut. She continues, "I love Dai-kun. I- I love the Dai-kun in my mind, but that's not you, and I don't think that was even ever you. I think I've built you up in my mind too much, Shuichi-kun - can you say you haven't?"

"I-" Shuichi closes his eyes. "If I made you think that you need to be something you aren't, I'm sor-"

"-That's not it," Akemi cuts in with another sigh, and Shuichi opens his eyes again only to take in Akemi's quiet, yet all-to-determined look on her face. "It's not what you've done, it's what I think - and what you haven't done."

"What I haven't done?"

"Shuichi-kun, why don't you ask questions about me?" asks Akemi, and Shuichi frowns in confusion.

"But I do?" replies Shuichi. He asks about her job as a waitress, about how she's been, about whether anyone's seemed suspicious around her… admittedly, he usually only asks after she asks first, but he's never been one to strike up conversation for the sake of it.

"You don't ask about who I am," Akemi says quietly. "You don't ask how I feel about growing up in the Organization, how it was like having a genius sister while you were just normal. You don't ask the questions you couldn't back when we were both in the Organization, and - neither do I, because I'm afraid of breaking the image I have of you in my head."

He stares and wants to say that he was just being considerate, that he just wanted to give her a rest from thinking about the Organization - and while that might be true, it wasn't the whole truth, not really, because the truth was he didn't think to ask. He didn't feel the urge to, and - maybe it was because he thought he knew her already.

Or maybe it really was because he didn't want to learn that he didn't, because Akemi is staring up at him with sad eyes and he still doesn't feel the curiosity, because something in him is still telling him to let Akemi forget her past, to let it all disappear.

He's been quiet for too long - Akemi tilts her head to the side and asks, a touch nervously, "Shuuichi-kun?"

He still loves her, he's sure. He still feels something indescribably soft when he looks at her, and the idea of anything happening to her makes his stomach drop. But he doesn't want to pressure her especially when she's so dependent on him still and -

(- and somewhere along the line he lost the urge to kiss her. Instead all that remains is an overwhelming urge to protect her.

An urge that's probably terribly stifling for her.)

Shuichi lets out a quiet sigh and murmurs, "Let's break up."

A month passes and the results of Shuichi's investigation are nothing. Zero.

Tracking down people Furuya helped as Amuro is interesting but ultimately fruitless. He learns that Furuya knows much too much about everyone and anyone, and not enough about who he might've relied on.

(He learns that Furuya may have not relied on anyone, and that's something he really should've known from the start.)

In a moment of frustration he swipes files he really shouldn't have in an attempt to find the witness who provided the cellphone with Furuya's fingerprints. Unfortunately, the files are all heavily blacked out, and so none contain any useful info.

At least he's still been talking with Akemi, though just by text - Akemi's sudden request to break up had been an eye-opener. So he's been trying. He texts her about little things still, like how she's been doing, and how things are going at work. She's been responsive, and knowing she's doing well always makes him glad, even if only temporarily.

But things aren't going well on the Organization front. They've gone back through the patient list from when Vermouth was disguised as Araide - there were a few visitors that stood out, some announcer, a police officer, a schoolteacher. So they put them all under surveillance, but none of them make suspicious movements.

Until one does and the PSB tells them to do nothing.

"What!?" Jodie is snapping, her eyes flashing. She slams a hand on the conference room table and glares at the PSB agents across from them. They're in another joint meeting - one that for once, they called - to share the new information about Mizunashi Rena making suspicious movements.

Only the PSB rejected the information outright and said to not act on it.

Shuichi's feelings mirror Jodie's at the moment, but he simply settles for gazing coolly towards Kazami to express his displeasure.

Kazami is unmoved.

"We are aware that Mizunashi Rena is a member of the Organization," he says, lacing his fingers together on the table. "She may be a useful asset - we would appreciate it if you didn't make a move against her."

"And how, exactly, can she be a useful asset?" demands Jodie. She's clearly the most frustrated, and little wonder - her subordinates had been the ones to discover the new lead after weeks of nothing.

"We have information that assures us she will be," Kazami replies stiffly, not at all answering the question.

Shuichi narrows his eyes. "Where - no, when did you get this info?"

"Is that relevant, Agent Akai?" Kazami hedges, and Shuichi can't help but pounce on the weakness like the hound he was.

"If it was after Furuya-kun 'died'," Shuichi says calmly, "I would questi-"

"-Agent Akai," interrupts Kazami. He brings his gaze up to meet Shuichi's eyes steadily, and Shuichi stares back. Kazami continues, voice firm, "Furuya-san is dead."

- and Shuichi can't help the way his fists clench, even as he says coolly, "I'm well aware."

Jodie is looking up at him with a curious look, and Shuichi holds back a grimace - he's going to have some explaining to do later.

"Then we would appreciate it if you acted that way," says Kazami, tone blunt, and Shuichi finds himself rather irritated despite himself.

He doesn't understand why the PSB so quickly decided that Furuya is dead, and doesn't want to understand, if he was being perfectly candid. It spoke of a distinct lack of curiosity he didn't like in people that were technically his allies.

(Or it just spoke of people better equipped to face reality than he was.)

Kazami lets out a sigh, "But your suspicions aren't completely off the mark."

"Kazami-san…" hisses an officer sitting next to Kazami. Shuichi barely catches it from across the table. She leans in and whispers something more into Kazami's ear, but Shuichi can't hear it.

"I'll talk with the higher-ups," Kazami says calmly, loud enough for anyone to hear. "From the fact that the FBI called this meeting at all, it's clear that they didn't know after all. There shouldn't be any problems with telling them."

The officer leans back in her seat, seeming placated.

Jodie crosses her arms. "Telling us what, exactly?"

"Mizunashi Rena is a CIA agent," Kazami explains, and Shuichi sees Jodie choke. His eyes widen a touch himself.

...They really needed better inter-organization communication in America, didn't they?

"I see…" says Jodie, still looking bewildered. "How did you learn this?"

"She approached us herself after Furuya-san's death," Kazami explains, then with a touch of anger that isn't quite hidden away, "She said Furuya-san let himself be killed by her in exchange for her cooperation with us."

- and a wedge of ice lodges itself in Shuichi's stomach.

He listens to the explanation half on auto-pilot.

As Kazami explains it, Furuya believed he had nowhere to run - he was certain that he was going to be revealed as a NOC by someone with concrete evidence. On the other hand, Mizunashi - codename Kir - was suspected only because of Gin's sharp instincts.

So Furuya made a deal with Kir - he'd let her kill him in order to regain trust in the Organization, but in exchange, she would forward any information she had to the PSB as well as the CIA.

Shuichi is admittedly a bit surprised that Kir kept her side of the deal, but he supposes the guilt might have eaten at her - or more likely, Furuya had done something to ensure her compliance.

(He can understand that all too well.

He can understand that, and yet he still can't help but detest her, resent her in a way he thought he'd only ever feel towards Gin.

A little numbly, he wonders how Furuya ever worked past this kind of hatred.)

Shuichi manages to successfully slip Jodie after the meeting, because he doesn't really want to explain anything right now, but unfortunately for him, luck isn't on his side. When he exits the bathroom, he runs straight into Kazami.

"Sergeant Kazami," he greets shortly, then makes to leave, only to be stopped by Kazami calling out to him.

"Agent Akai, wait," Kazami says, and Shuichi reluctantly turns back around.

"Yes?"

"Agent Akai," Kazami says again, then shakes his head minutely. "No, Akai-san. If you can take a break for a moment, there's something I would like to talk to you about. About Furuya-san."

And well, how can Shuichi say no to that?

They go to the rooftop and in the cool open air, Shuichi doesn't bother resisting the urge to light a cigarette. He offers Kazami one as well, but it's politely refused.

He leans back against a metal railing to face Kazami, cigarette held loosely in his left hand. The man stands stiffly a couple paces away, hands clasped behind his back.

"So?" Shuichi asks, "What did you want to talk about?"

Kazami looks up at the sky and lets out a deep sigh. Some of the tension seems to leak from his body. Still looking upwards, quietly, Kazami says, "Furuya-san mentioned you a lot."

"Oh?"

Kazami looks back forwards and smiles wryly. "I could really tell how much he hated you, and I admit that did colour my opinion of you somewhat."

"Ah," is the only thing Shuichi says to that, and that wedge of ice that lodged itself into his stomach sharpens into a painful spike.

Shuichi supposes Bourbon had always been an excellent actor.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Kazami says immediately, shaking his head. "What I mean is, I was really able to tell how much he hated you - until one day about eight months ago now. It was as if his opinion made a complete one-eighty in less than a week…"

"Less than a week?" Shuichi echos, frowning slightly.

That was odd - even if that was when Furuya learned about the truth behind Scotch's death, he can't imagine it would be enough to change his opinion so radically. While Shuichi can't quite believe that Furuya knew the entire time as Furuya claimed, he does think that what Furuya said about still hating him for months even after finding out the truth rang true.

Reversing his opinion so quickly made no sense.

"I was actually hoping you might be able to shed light on why," Kazami says, then shrugs and lets out a small sigh. "But it seems you don't know either."

"No," Shuichi replies, "Until Furuya-kun approached me around six months ago, I hadn't seen him for years. The last I knew, he wanted to kill me."

"I see…" murmurs Kazami. He meets Shuichi's eyes steadily, and says - a little louder - "Akai-san."

Shuichi cocks his head to the side.

"If you had to be frank," Kazami asks, "What was Furuya-san to you?"

A friend, is what he'd like to say. But what he wants to say isn't necessarily what actually was.

"I don't know," Shuichi says truthfully. He lets himself laugh once - shortly, drily. "For most of our acquaintance, I wasn't able to trust him. And when I could, he was gone."

Kazami nods, expression neutral. "I suppose that's understandable."

"That being said," Shuichi continues, because while he's not really one to talk about himself, he wants to say this out loud at least once, now there might be no reason to say it anymore - "I still considered him a friend in the Organization before our- falling-out, and by the time he disappeared, I considered him one again."

He takes a drag of his cigarette and looks somewhere off into the distance towards the high-rise buildings, away from Kazami's eyes.

"But who knows what Furuya-kun thought of me," Shuichi finishes.

They stand in silence for a number of moments. It's enough time for Shuichi to finish his cigarette, but as he stubs it out on the rooftop railing and considers lighting another, Kazami speaks up again.

"I felt similarly," Kazami admits, and it's enough to drag Shuichi's attention back onto him.

"You worked with him as Furuya Rei," Shuichi notes, a little curious.

"That's correct," Kazami says, inclining his head. "But our relationship is- was always a boss-subordinate relationship. Still - I considered him a friend, even if perhaps he saw me as nothing but an underling."

And Shuichi doesn't know what to say to that, because he doesn't know Furuya Rei enough to say that Furuya wouldn't be that cruel.

Instead, he just smiles wryly. "Furuya-kun is hard to read, isn't he?"

"Was," Kazami corrects quietly.

"Was," Shuichi repeats, mainly because it would be a pain to argue.

Kazami nods shortly, then glances to the side, his expression awkward. "Thank you for humouring me about this, Akai-san."

"It was useful," says Shuichi. Any clues he could drop into the little box marked 'The Bourbon Mystery' in his mind was useful.

"I'm glad," Kazami says, but doesn't leave like Shuichi expects him to. Instead, a shadow of darkness falls over his face, and he continues, "There was one other thing I wanted to talk about."

"Oh?"

"It's about the man you call Scotch," Kazami clarifies, and Shuichi keeps his expression neutral and mind blank.

"You knew him?" he asks.

"I did," Kazami answers, "I heard two stories of his death - one from before Furuya-san's change in heart about you, and one afterwards. But either way, I never believed you - or Furuya-san - were responsible for his death."

Shuichi furrows his brow and stares at Kazami, but all he sees in Kazami's expression is certainty.

"He was the type of person who could do anything for his friends and family," Kazami continues, "Once he had decided to kill himself to save them, there would've been nothing even Furuya-san could do, let alone you."

The insult is mildly irritating, but Shuichi lets it slide.

"...He was willing to accept FBI help," Shuichi says shortly, "He only died because I got distracted."

"And Furuya-san said he only died because he distracted you," Kazami counters, "But the truth is that he only died because that was the kind of person he always was, and you wouldn't have been able to do anything" - he lets out a dry laugh - "because I'm sure now, you were a friend he was protecting too."

And Shuichi can't say anything more.

He's cornered by Jodie after work. She drops into the passenger seat of his car with a amiable enough smile, but by the look on her face he can tell that Jodie plans to make him talk, and he's really not in the mood.

So he talks before she can.

"I worked with Bourbon a few times in the Organization," Shuichi says, "I suspected he might be a NOC too. Is that all you want to know?"

"You spent the last month chasing after a man you 'worked with a few times'?" asks Jodie skeptically, and Shuichi holds back the urge to click his tongue.

"You knew?" he says, because he hadn't exactly explained the details of what he had been doing to his colleagues.

"I guessed just now, based on how you've been acting - and what Sergeant Kazami implied today," responds Jodie, crossing her arms.

Shuichi lets out a small sigh. Sometimes he forgets how perceptive Jodie can be when she wants to be.

"I worked with him a lot," Shuichi amends, "And he was never the type of person to sit back and die like this."

"But you knew Bourbon, not Inspector Furuya, right?" Jodie points out, completely reasonably. Completely reasonably, and enough for another spike of ice to pierce through his stomach.

"I can't imagine Bourbon" - and Amuro Tooru - "was all completely a lie."

Jodie peers at Shuichi curiously, and whatever she sees makes her eyes widen. She uncrosses her arms.

"Huh," she says in mild wonder, "I haven't seen you look like this in a while."

- and Shuichi schools his expression, too late.

(He doesn't know what expression he had been wearing, but he's sure it had been something he didn't want others to see.)

"If you would just talk to us, we would help you, you know," Jodie says, sounding tetchy.

"If I need help, I'll say so," responds Shuichi, and it's not completely a lie.

The sigh Jodie lets out at that is offensively long-suffering.

"How's your investigation going?" she asks.

Shuichi glances at Jodie with a touch of surprise. "Not telling me to drop it?"

"Shuu, I've known you for years," Jodie says dryly, "In all that time, I've never seen you act completely out of emotion. You must have reasons for doing this other than 'I don't want my friend to be dead.'"

"...I didn't say he was my friend."

"I can read between the lines, Shuu."

Shuichi sighs, decides he doesn't want to get into it, then says - a bit reluctantly - "My investigation's reached a dead end."

"Have you talked to Conan-kun already?" Jodie asks, and Shuichi whips his head to stare at Jodie.

"Why talk to that boy?" he asks sharply.

Jodie blinks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

"Because it was his cellphone that the PSB used to verify Inspector Furuya's death?"

Shuichi doesn't immediately approach that boy. Though he hasn't seen much of the boy, what little he has seen makes him certain that Conan was involved in whatever trick Furuya used to fake his death.

So instead he starts looking into the people around the boy and watches for any irregularities. He can't spend all his time watching, because while they've been given a certain amount of freedom with few leads on the Organization, he still helps out with various investigations around the city.

Still, he investigates a fair amount, which is why he's not entirely surprised when a couple weeks after he begins his investigation, a little brown-haired girl walks up to him when he's sitting in his car, a few minutes from Teitan Elementary.

"You're an eyesore," she says, and Shuichi immediately knows who this is.

"Hello, Shi- Ai," he replies, looking down at the girl. She's wearing a shiny red backpack and it's mid-afternoon - she must be coming back from school.

He's a little curious though, because while Sherry never hesitated to tell him exactly what she thought of him the few times they met, he's heard that she's gotten more timid since she shrank. Her coming up to him seems uncharacteristically bold, even with Vermouth and thus any immediate danger gone.

But looking carefully, he can see her shaking slightly. So she is still scared - just hiding it well.

"Do you think I'm going to greet the person who made Onee-chan cry?" Shiho demands, sounding pissed enough the small trembling is almost unnoticeable.

"Akemi was the one to break up with me," Shuichi says drily, and Shiho scoffs.

"And why do you think she did that?" she demands.

It's disheartening to hear that he made Akemi cry, but he never meant to. He would never mean to. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"I doubt you would," says Shiho, then shakes her head. "...Besides, I never thought you were good for Onee-chan."

"Oh?"

"Onee-chan deserves a normal life," she explains, then stares up at him with cold eyes. "Could you ever give that to her?"

Shuichi stares back into those eyes and finds himself at a loss for words.

He changes the topic. "Is that the only reason you came up to me?"

She scowls a little, then asks, "What are you doing here? Vermouth is gone. If it's still to protect me, I don't- I don't need it."

"I'm looking for someone I know," Shuichi answers easily, because from the way Shiho's acting, he feels she might be willing to let some things slip to get him to leave the vicinity.

Shiho narrows her eyes. "The dead friend? The one Onee-chan says you're obsessed with?"

"Something like that, yes," Shuichi replies, letting the obsession comment slide. It was a silly comment anyways. He just didn't want everything to go the way Furuya planned, that was all, and Furuya's knowledge of the Organization was too precious to let disappear for too long.

(He just didn't want to have lost another friend, that was all.)

"And if you find him, you'll leave this area?" Shiho asks.

"So long as there's no other Organization-related activity in the city," Shuichi responds.

Shiho looks displeased at that. "Promise me you'll stay away from Teitan Elementary at least."

Shuichi hesitates, because if an incident does happen in or near Teitan Elementary, he can't really promise he won't come back. But this is the best lead he's had in over a month, and so he finds himself saying, "I promise."

Shiho nods slowly, then says, "Okiya Subaru."

"Sorry?"

"Okiya Subaru," Shiho repeats, crossing her arms. "Edogawa-kun met him for the 'first time' a couple weeks ago but he really trusts him for some reason. You should look into him. I don't like him."

"...Where does he live?" Shuichi asks.

"You can look up some things for yourself, can't you?" Shiho says harshly, and Shuichi shrugs. He can, but it would be easier to have someone who knows the information already to give it to him.

But a name was more than enough.

"Thank you, Ai," he says sincerely.

"Hmph," she says. She twirls around and walks off - if her pace is a little fast, Shuichi tactfully doesn't comment on it.

He watches her go, then immediately turns on the ignition in his car. He has a promise to keep, then an Okiya Subaru to find.

It takes a couple days, but he finds an 'Okiya Subaru' living in Beika City. According to the student profile he finds online, he's an undergraduate engineering student going to Touto University, aged twenty-four.

The younger age doesn't faze him. It would be easy for Furuya to pass as someone in their early twenties - he's barely changed since Shuichi knew him only as Bourbon.

Finding where Okiya Subaru lives, however, is a little harder. He eventually resorts to looking up the typical schedule of a fourth-year Touto engineering student and poking his head into every class he finds, under the guise of 'looking for his little brother's friend, Okiya Subaru'.

But despite all his efforts, he eventually finds Okiya Subaru because Okiya Subaru finds him.

"I heard you were looking for me," a cool voice calls out from behind him.

Shuichi turns around and there, standing in the hallway, is someone who appears to be a young man. With black hair and skin that isn't tanned dark, he looks quite different from Furuya.

Shuichi doesn't let it faze him, however. A disguise was expected.

"Are you Okiya Subaru?" he asks.

"I am," Okiya replies, and the voice is just so indifferent and disinterested Shuichi can't help but be a little taken aback. Even Bourbon at his most Bourbon was never this… emotionless.

But a different personality was also something he would expect from Bourbon, who could act as good as a Hollywood actor if he felt up to it.

(And if nobody stepped on the few tripwires that set off his temper - which naturally, Shuichi always seemed to do on a regular basis.)

"I was hoping we could talk," Shuichi says politely.

"And why would a suspicious person like you want to talk with me?" asks Okiya, unimpressed.

"I'm not suspicious," tries Shuichi. His tone may not be convincing enough however, because he doesn't quite believe it himself.

"You're rather suspicious stranger," Okiya counters. He eyes Shuichi with a cold, condescending look. "You've spent the past few days stalking all my classes looking for me."

"I can't deny that," Shuichi admits. He considers taking out his FBI badge but refrains - it certainly wouldn't endear him to Furuya, if this was indeed him. "But you're a surprisingly hard man to find."

"I was skipping class," Okiya says, completely shamelessly. He cocks his head to the side, expression neutral. "What will you do if I don't talk with you?"

"I can't force you to talk with me," Shuichi hedges.

Okiya lets out a soft breath through his nose and gestures Shuichi to follow. "Come with me."

Shuichi blinks - he didn't expect things to be that easy - and so he's rather cautious as he steps after Okiya.

Shuichi follows Okiya into his apartment. There's nothing particularly of note in the entranceway. It's kept more or less clean, though not meticulously so - Shuichi can spot some dirt and dust piled up in one corner. Bourbon tended to be a little more messy in safehouses, but that didn't really say anything about whether Okiya was Furuya. Okiya would have much more time to clean than any of Furuya's other faces.

As Okiya crouches down to take off his shoes, he offers, voice disinterested, "I can prepare you a cup of coffee if you'd like."

"Do you often invite complete strangers in for a cup of coffee?" asks Shuichi, slipping off his own shoes.

Okiya straightens back up and looks back at Shuichi, expression neutral. "I'm not interested in trouble. You seemed like you would be trouble if I didn't humour you."

"I see," Shuichi says, rather thoughtfully. He smiles faintly then continues, "I would appreciate some coffee, yes."

Okiya gives Shuichi a short nod before heading through the hallway to enter the room at the end - it's a large living room with a kitchen area half-closed off in one corner. Shuichi restrains himself from clicking his tongue. There would be no sneaking off while Okiya made coffee.

So Shuichi sits himself down on the sofa in the middle of the room and waits. He glances around the room, but it's decidedly inoffensive. The furniture is definitely all new - a few months old at most - but 'Okiya Subaru' was supposed to have moved in recently anyways. There's no real personality to the room either - but 'Okiya Subaru' seems to be pragmatic and emotionless. It's vaguely irritating.

"Is something the matter?" asks Okiya mildly. He's walking over, bringing two cups of coffee. Before sitting down on a lounge chair across from Shuichi, he offers a cup to Shuichi - who accepts.

"No," Shuichi answers. He takes a sip of the coffee. It's black - completely black, not with one cream like the coffee that Amuro had prepared for him before. But he supposes Furuya wouldn't be the type to slip up through a cup of coffee.

"Very well," Okiya says, and Shuichi hears nothing but vague disinterest in the voice. Okiya takes a sip of his own coffee before continuing, "So?"

"So?" Shuichi echos, smiling faintly. He places his cup of coffee down on the coffee table in front of him.

If Okiya is irritated at the way Shuichi isn't getting to the point already, he doesn't show it. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I-" Shuichi begins, and he intends to finish his thought - only he spots something shining on the ring finger of Okiya's left hand. He stares despite himself, faint smile disappearing. "You're married, Okiya-san?"

Okiya lifts his left hand into the air, hand spread wide to give Shuichi a better view of the ring. It's a simple silver band - platinum, if Shuichi had to guess.

"That's correct," Okiya says shortly. He brings his hand back down to his lap.

"You're - who are you married to?" asks Shuichi, a little bewildered and a little unsure, because marriage is a very odd thing to include in a fake backstory without a partner to play the part.

"Why tell you when there's no reason for you to have met… her?" asks Okiya in return, and well, that logic isn't wrong, per se.

"I'm curious, that's all," Shuichi replies, then lets himself smile faintly again. "If you satisfy my curiosity, Okiya-san, I promise I won't cause you trouble."

"You already are," Okiya says coldly, then, a touch softer - "Well, I suppose I don't mind talking about her."

"Oh?"

Okiya places his cup of coffee down on the table as well, then runs a thumb over the ring on his left hand. The expression on his face is quietly melancholic and shows more emotion than Shuichi's seen since he's entered the apartment.

(Shuichi feels like he's seen this expression before, but he just can't remember when. He treats it as a point in favour of Okiya being Furuya anyways.)

"To be precise, I was married," Okiya begins, and his expression is carefully shuttered again. "We dated for about two years, then married. We were married for nearly three."

"What happened?"

Okiya's voice is terribly neutral as he says, "She's happy with someone else now."

"...Condolences," Shuichi says awkwardly. He's not sure what to say - if Okiya isn't actually Furuya, if this story is real, then his response may be woefully inadequate.

"No need for condolences," Okiya says, shaking his head. "It's only right that h- she's with that someone else."

"You seem to have taken it rather well," says Shuichi, then his eyes narrow because he hasn't forgotten the real reason why he's here. "Almost as though it didn't happen."

Okiya scoffs, and shakes his head a second time. "I didn't take it well at all, Mr. Stranger. But it was something I always knew should've happened if things were different, so I worked past my petty hurt feelings. After all - do you know what she said to me when I proposed to her?"

"What did she say?"

"She told me that she couldn't give me her whole heart," Okiya explains, and Shuichi spots a pained expression flash over Okiya's face for a brief moment. "She told me that she loved me, but she was sure that at least half of her heart, if not more, was stolen away by this other, ah, man. And that she was sure that would be the case for the rest of her life, but if I would still have her, she would be happy to marry me."

Shuichi chokes, and the words come easily and sincerely out of his throat. "That's terrible. You still married her?"

"I really loved h- her," says Okiya, and Shuichi sees Okiya scowl for the first time. It's a faint scowl, but there's a hint of something cold and angry in those eyes. Okiya continues, "Besides, I was confident that other man would never be a factor. There was a reason why she was with me instead of ah, him, though I'm afraid that reason is private."

"Regardless," Shuichi says, voice disbelieving, "Being with someone you knew didn't love you as much as you did..."

Okiya's expression closes off. "I admit that it hurt sometimes, but most of the time I was just happy to be with h- her. She was the type of person to keep things close to her heart - she never let me see that she loved someone else more than me."

And Shuichi frowns, because the aborted pained expressions, the bitterness to his tone - it all sounded terribly genuine, like Okiya actually experienced all this. He had never seen Bourbon act out something completely alien to him this well. A seed of doubt sprouts in his mind as he stares at Okiya.

"So if she hadn't told you that she loved this person…" Shuichi trails off.

"I doubt I would've noticed, yes," Okiya finishes. "But I'm glad she did tell me. I prefer the cold truth to pretty lies."

"I see," Shuichi says, then nods at Okiya's left hand. "You still wear the wedding ring, even though she's left you?"

"I can be sentimental at times," Okiya says quietly. He lifts his hand up high into the air and stares at it. "This isn't the real ring, anyways - it's gone now. I just had a replica made, because I felt I could give myself that much."

He brings his hands down into his lap and laces them together before continuing, voice disinterested, "Does that satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Stranger?"

"...It does," Shuichi says, because he might have some questions still but Okiya's story has made it clear that either (a) Furuya has really thought deeply about Okiya's backstory or (b) Okiya is actually a real person.

He doesn't think pressing Okiya any further about his backstory will gain Shuichi anything. He could jump at Okiya and try to rip off a mask - or hell, rip off his shirt to see if the skin underneath was suspiciously darker - but if he was wrong, he has no idea how he would explain that one away.

"Will I be freed from your company then?" Okiya asks. The tone is dismissive, as if he couldn't care less what response he got.

So instead of answering, Shuichi asks in return, "Do you tell every suspicious stranger you meet your life story, Okiya-san?"

Okiya looks towards Shuichi, expression unreadable. "I'm a charitable person, Mr. Stranger. I like to warn others away from making my mistakes."

"Your mistakes?"

"Falling for someone I really shouldn't have." Okiya shrugs. "Deceiving myself into thinking it was a good idea. And" - Okiya laughs, coldly, derisively, and taps on his wedding ring with a finger - "as pathetic as it is, being unable to get over it, not really."

"I see," Shuichi says shortly, "I'll keep your warnings in mind, then."

"Though perhaps you shouldn't," Okiya says, a dark shadow falling over his face. "I'm petty enough about my woes that I'm hoping things aren't going well with your partner, Mr. Stranger." Okiya pauses. "If you have one."

"I don't," replies Shuichi, and he sees Okiya's eyes widen. He composes himself quickly, but by then it's too late - Shuichi stares, and smiles sharply.

Now why would Okiya Subaru be surprised that a stranger didn't have a romantic partner?

"I- I'm surprised to hear that you don't," Okiya says, and to his credit, by the end of the sentence he does manage to restore his indifferent tone of voice.

"Oh?" Shuichi says, sharp smile not disappearing. "Why?"

"...You're quite handsome," tries Okiya, and Shuichi chokes back a laugh.

"Are you flirting with me?" Shuichi can't help but ask, because now that he's seen a crack in Okiya's persona, he can't resist the urge to pry it open.

(It might be a little in bad taste considering the earlier topic, but in Shuichi's defense, Okiya was the one to call him handsome first.)

"Wha-" Okiya starts, and the offended, irritated intonation is so terribly Furuya Shuichi finds his smile softening. But then Okiya coughs and continues in a neutral voice, "No."

"I was dating someone until a month or so ago," Shuichi explains, curious to see how Okiya would react. "But somewhere along the way, both of us fell out of love."

"What," Okiya says flatly.

"Is that so shocking, Okiya-san?" Shuichi asks, cocking his head to the side.

Okiya stares up at Shuichi, and asks, ignoring Shuichi's question - "You really aren't in love with the woman you were dating anymore?"

"I never said it was a woman."

A scowl briefly flashes over Okiya's face before it's suppressed. But Shuichi still spots it, and he has to hold back a smile.

"Was it a woman?" Okiya demands, and ah, that tetchiness is all-too-familiar.

"It was," Shuichi admits, "And yes, I don't l-" he hesitates, the words catching in his throat. He pivots. "I don't see her in that way anymore."

Okiya blinks up at him, expression unreadable. After a few moments of silence, he says. "I suppose it has nothing to do with me. My apologies for prying."

"I don't mind. It's something I'd like my friend to know," Shuichi says, and smiles sharply, "And you remind me of my friend."

"...I'm not your friend," Okiya says neutrally.

Shuichi shrugs. "That might be true, no matter who you are."

The stare Okiya gives him bores a hole through his skull.

"What are you really here for?" Okiya finally demands, and the tone is low and all-too-frustrated, all-too-emotional. "You must have some goal, some plan."

"Nothing like that," Shuichi says, and smiles because it's true. "Do I seem so scheming?"

The moment Okiya Subaru had agreed to let him in his apartment, he dismissed his initial plans as no longer being applicable. Because Bourbon has never been able to keep a cool head around him, not for long, and especially not if Shuichi purposefully tried to rile him up.

Okiya Subaru seemed to be a cool, composed persona - he did respect Furuya's acting skills in most cases, but Furuya should've known as well as he did that Furuya would very likely slip up somehow around him.

And yet Okiya Subaru - and yet Furuya had invited him in anyways.

Okiya remains silent and closed off as Shuichi stands up from the sofa, but Shuichi doesn't care.

"Goodbye, Okiya-kun," Shuichi says.

"...That's all?" says Okiya. The eyes that stare up at him are a touch incredulous.

"I satisfied my curiosity," Shuichi says mildly, and doesn't bother to hold back a slight smile at Okiya's furrowed brow.

Furuya must've had some kind of plan, some kind of reasoning to so shamelessly invite Shuichi in then act so blatantly Furuya.

Shuichi doesn't intend to fall for it.

He would have Furuya reveal himself on his terms, not Furuya's, because he's tired of being jerked around by Furuya's manipulations.

(He may also be actually angry at the deception, because despite his immediate denial, a quiet place in the back of his mind began to genuinely ache when he heard that Furuya was dead.

It still aches, because a quiet voice wonders if he's seeing Furuya where there's still none.)

Shuichi nods politely in farewell before leaving the room.

He's not stopped.

It's only a few days later when one of his subordinates runs up to him as he's sitting in his car, waiting for his subordinate's weekly report. The subordinate says, breathless, "You should see this."

He hands Shuichi a few loose pieces of paper - glancing at the top page, Shuichi can see that it's a wiretap transcript. This subordinate had been listening in on one of the people who had visited Dr. Araide when he was Vermouth, and it seems this transcript was based on that.

Shuichi reads through the first page and his eyes widen.

After he finishes his meeting with his subordinate, he drives some ways away, contemplative. It's a little after three p.m. and the sun is bright in the sky. He ends up not too far from Café Poirot, and he parks his car on the street.

He watches people walk by for some minutes before he taps a few buttons on his phone.

Shuichi presses his phone to his ear.

"Hey, Jodie," he says, "There's something I need to do."

It's nighttime, a day later - nearly midnight.

Shuichi jumps over a small plastic fence, ignoring the signs that declare 'DANGER: CONSTRUCTION ZONE', and strides into the ground floor of the half-constructed skyscraper. It's still covered in blue tarps in places and the night sky can be spied through holes in the barebones walls.

The flooring - at least in the lobby - has been mostly completed though. His shoes tap loudly on the shiny linoleum every step he takes, passing by a number of shadowed columns.

He stops in the middle of the lobby, and glances up towards the Tokyo skyline through one of the holes in the walls.

A bullet hits the floor and Shuichi drops to the ground, gripping his knee.

Figures step out from behind the columns - one, two, five. They're completely black and wear hoods - Shuichi can't make out their faces. One figure - standing somewhere in front of Shuichi - holds up a smartphone, the screen shining bright in the dim lobby.

Hysterical, furious laughter comes out of the phone.

"Don't get too comfortable, Rye! There's still more to come!" cries an angry, female voice from the phone.

Shuichi stares at the phone, his expression constricted in pain.

"You're Chianti," he says, genuinely a little surprised.

"Oh, so you know my name at least," she hisses, "That isn't going to stop me from making you feel ten times the pain Calvados did."

He hadn't expected this to be about Calvados, of all people.

"Calvados…" he trails off.

"The man you beat into pieces! The one you made betray the Organization!" Chianti snaps, "That woman told me enough, bitch that she is. I can't touch her, but I can touch you at least. Didn't expect you to fall for this so easily - whatever. Two birds with one stone."

"I won't deny beating Calvados up," Shuichi admits dismissively, shrugging. "But I didn't make him do anything else. He gave up information on the Organization of his own free will - I hear the Japanese made a deal with him."

A furious scream comes out of the phone, followed by the familiar sound of a click. He splays himself on the ground fully and a bullet whooshes past his head. Half-straightening himself back up - getting back up on his knees - he stares at the new bullet hole in the linoleum floor.

That was actually a close one.

"Why don't we talk this over a bit?" Shuichi suggests lightly.

"No. You know what to do, everyone," comes the voice from the phone.

The man in front hangs up the call, slips the phone back into a coat pocket, then - along with the other figures around Shuichi - takes out a pistol.

Shuichi looks around and can't help but grimace. He doesn't want to - it's early still - but he'll have to-

A gunshot rings out and a bullet pierces the right arm of the man in front. He cries out in pain and drops his gun - the other figures look around wildly for the shooter, waving around their pistols.

He spots a silhouette he hadn't seen before in the shadows behind a metal column. So Shuichi stands up - no longer pretending his knee pains him - smiles sharply, and raises a hand high in the air.

Tranquilizer darts come down from above. Five figures fall to the ground, and the silhouette behind the metal column disappears.

Oh no, that wouldn't do.

"Take care of this!" he shouts towards the ceiling, then races towards the column, taking out his pistol. There's no wall behind it, just a blue tarp - and it's swaying. Shuichi slips behind it easily and steps out into the cool night air.

There's two paths he can take - both secluded alleyways, but only one eventually leads to a street that's busy even at this time of night. With no hesitation, Shuichi runs into the alleyway that leads to the busy street, and is rewarded by the sight of a white-hooded figure trying to escape.

He follows the figure through a few twists and turns, but just can't seem to catch up to him. So he raises his pistol, ever-so-calmly.

Aiming carefully, he shoots a couple times at a garbage can lid a few paces ahead of the figure. His aim is true - the lid bursts off and hits the man right in the side of his face. He yelps in pain and trips to the ground, lid clattering right after him - Shuichi can't help but wince.

Shuichi slips his pistol back onto his belt and saunters over to the collapsed figure, hands in his pockets.

Blazing blue eyes glare up at him, shadowed by a white hood, and a warm feeling wells up in his heart.

"Hello, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says, unable to hold back a touch of cheer from his voice. "It's been a few days, hasn't it?"

"Screw you, Akai," grumbles Furuya - actually, undoubtedly Furuya with dark skin and light hair peeking out from under the hood. He rubs at his cheek with a hand and scowls.

Shuichi holds out a hand to Furuya, and, after glaring up at him again, Furuya takes it. Shuichi helps him up, Furuya tearing his hand away as soon as he's standing up straight.

"Is this where you explain your diabolical plan?" Furuya quips, crossing his arms.

"I could leave it a mystery," Shuichi suggests, "Like the mystery of how a dead man is alive."

Furuya clicks his tongue, loudly. "Don't be petty, Akai."

"You can't deduce the truth?"

He gets a rather murderous look for that little comment, a look he feels is rather unwarranted. He shrugs. "I didn't know it would be Chianti with a grudge there tonight, but my subordinate mysteriously getting information on a black market deal happening the next day reeked of a trap."

"And you actually brought in backup," Furuya says, disbelief filling in his voice.

"I know when to bring help, Furuya-kun," responds Shuichi in amusement. And well, when he's gotten stung so badly in the past few months because of secrets he kept from Akemi and Jodie, he figures it couldn't hurt to be open a little more often.

Furuya uncrosses his arms only to buries his face into hands and let out a deep, strangled sigh. "The Organization made a trap for you and you made it a trap for me. How did you trick Conan into telling me?"

"I let him overhear a 'conversation' with Jodie over the phone," Shuichi explains, "I wasn't actually talking to anyone, but I spoke loud enough that I knew he would catch it as he was walking back home from school."

"And you bet on him telling me," Furuya mutters, looking back up with a scowl.

He had also bet on Shiho not being with Conan, because he had promised to avoid Teitan Elementary, and the Mouri Detective Agency was admittedly rather close to the school.

"You're close enough for him to help fake your death, aren't you?"

Furuya glares at him, but doesn't deny it, so Shuichi takes that as a win. Furuya's face grows serious. "What about Chianti though? She wasn't in the building."

"I suspected there might be a sniper," explains Shuichi, "So I had people stake out buildings that were ideal sniping locations. With any luck, we've caught her."

"Hmph, luck," says Furuya derisively.

"Luck seems to be on my side," says Shuichi with a smile, only he really shouldn't have, because he should've known better to tempt fate like that.

But he does, and fate can't resist destroying his expectations.

A gunshot rings out.

And Furuya falls to the ground, eyes wide and shocked, as red, too much red sprays out.

Shuichi feels something wet splatter his face and finds he can't speak, his eyes wide, mouthing out words that he chokes on. But he forces himself to shove it all down in moments, even as the pattern of red blood seeping through Furuya's hoodie burns itself in Shuichi's eyes.

On autopilot, he makes to grab his pistol from his waist, only for a second bullet to whiz past his face, grazing his cheek. He feels blood dripping down his face and finally, he looks towards the shooter.

Vermouth stands there with a smug, satisfied look and he may have no idea what his expression looks like at the moment, but if even a fraction of the cold fury he's feeling at the moment has leaked out onto his face, he has no doubt that he looks absolutely merciless.

"Hello, Bourbon, Rye," she says, twirling the pistol in her hand with a smile.

He hears a groan behind him and resists the urge to flip around, to check on Furuya, because he can't afford to take his eyes off of Vermouth.

So Furuya's voice, even constricted in pain, is a deep relief to Shuichi.

"First time we've met for over a month and you-" Furuya coughs, the sound painful, "-shoot me?"

"Oh, Bourbon," Vermouth says sweetly, "You know what happens to traitors."

Furuya lets out a choked laugh.

"Don't talk, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says, allowing himself the briefest glance back at Furuya. It's not as bad as he had initially thought, thankfully - the bullet is through Furuya's shoulder and bleeding profusely, but it isn't a vital region.

He slips his hand back under his jacket to grab his pistol, only to freeze when a third gunshot rings out and Furuya screams.

"Put your hands up, Rye," Vermouth says with a smile. "The next shot goes through his heart instead of his leg."

With no other choice, Shuichi slowly raises his hands in the air.

"Good boy," she says condescendingly, and god, at this very moment he might detest her more than Gin.

"You were with Chianti," Shuichi says coldly, and Vermouth laughs.

"Oh please, like that woman would let me anywhere near her if she could help it," she says mockingly, "No, I just made her think that it was her idea to spring this mediocre trap. It was good camouflage for this, wasn't it?"

"What do you want?" Shuichi demands, hands still raised.

"Oh, I just wanted to lure Bourbon out," she says dismissively, "I thought putting his dear, dear Akai Shuichi in danger would help, but I didn't expect you to have similar goals to me. To think that he didn't tell you, of all people, that he was alive…"

'Dear, dear Akai Shuichi'?

'You of all people'?

Shuichi furrows his brows and doesn't bother holding back a semi-derisive scoff. "I doubt Bourbon holds me in that high regard."

Vermouth's eyes widen a little, and she snickers, the sound remarkably irritating. "You don't know how he was found out as a NOC?"

"Vermouth," Shuichi hears Furuya hiss furiously, but Vermouth either doesn't hear or doesn't care.

"I spotted him visiting you," she explains, smiling. "Not just once or twice either. My, my, I do wonder just what you were doing together in all those hotels for you to get Bourbon to be so willing to take so many risks for you."

Shuichi ignores the suggestive wording - he's heard enough. Right now, the priority is escaping with Furuya and getting him to a hospital.

He's just found Furuya again, he'd be damned before he let Furuya die for real so quickly.

"You've caught us," he says coldly. He gives Vermouth a once-over, judging the distance between them, how fast she might shoot, how long it would take him to lower his hands. He continues, "What now?"

"Now, I have a few questions for Bourbon," she says, "Then I kill him."

He feels a cool fury settle itself in the forefront of his mind, shrouding his thoughts, and he really can't help the merciless glare. Vermouth is unmoved, however.

Furuya's voice sounds from behind again.

"You don't care if I reveal that you're the Boss'-"

"-You're a traitor now, Bourbon," she interrupts, "I'll take my chances on whether anyone would believe you."

As she talks, Shuichi uses the moment of distraction to take a step or two back. It's to give himself a better view of the whole situation - and to let him see Furuya.

Furuya's hoisted himself up halfway off the ground, pressing one hand against the still-bleeding shot on his shoulder and the other against the open wound in his upper thigh. And by god, he didn't expect the almost suffocating jolts of worry and horror that thread their way through the mist of cool anger.

He can't let Furuya bleed out. If they just keep her talking, Shuichi should be able to grab his pistol while she's distracted and-

-his thoughts cut off, because Furuya is looking up at him with a small smile and a knowing look, shaking his head. Like he knows what Shuichi is thinking.

Trust me, Furuya's eyes are saying, before turning back towards Vermouth, and Shuichi does.

"Vermouth, I'm sure you want to know how I found out about your secret," Furuya says, and while he's breathing a little heavily, the voice itself is steady, firm and determined, with only a touch of Bourbon's smugness. Shuichi stares and wonders if this is how Furuya Rei always makes his deductions. Furuya continues, "But the important thing here isn't that - it's that you didn't shoot Akai."

"What?"

"You didn't shoot Akai," Furuya repeats, face set. "You didn't shoot him because while he isn't the one you put your money on, he's still a silver bullet and you want him alive" - Vermouth is beginning to look rather furious, so Shuichi really hopes Furuya knows what he's doing - "because you want the Organization to die. You've been waiting for a silver bullet to kill it for eons, not in spite of your connection with the Boss, but because of it."

"Always so confident, Bourbon," Vermouth says, a dangerous tone to her voice, "Even when you're wrong."

"Am I-" Furuya lets out a short groan of pain before visibly gritting his teeth and continuing, "Am I wrong? You're not our friend, Vermouth - but you aren't exactly our enemy either," - and Shuichi hasmany objections about that statement starting with Jodie's parents and ending with Furuya getting shot by her twice, but forces his thoughts down - "So I have a proposition for you."

Vermouth scoffs, "You do understand the situation you're in right now?"

Ignoring Vermouth's commentary, Furuya just snaps, "Let me be a silver bullet too."

She stares at Furuya, eyes widening a tad, for a beat too long. Then, she lets out a laugh, a high, disbelieving laugh.

"You?" she asks with a snort, "Take down the Organization?"

"What do you have to lose?" demands Furuya, "You know me and my skills, Vermouth. I'm a better detective than Akai and I'll show everyone I'm a better detective than Kudo damn Shinichi."

...Kudo Shinichi?

"I don't doubt your skills, Bourbon," she says dismissively, then with a cool, cruel smile, "I just doubt your loyalties. You're really still one of us, Bourbon, no matter what you tell yourself, and I doubt that'll ever change. Killing you has nothing to do with you being a NOC."

"... What? " sputters Furuya, sounding so utterly flabbergasted and offended it's a large relief to Shuichi.

"How long have you spent with us?" Vermouth continues, undeterred, "How much longer than you've spent on the side of the angels? Just how stained are your hands at this point, Bourbon?"

Furuya closes his eyes, takes a long breath - then takes another couple short breaths, wincing in pain - before finally opening his eyes again.

His eyes are narrowed, and the look in them is so sharp and determined Shuichi can't help but stare. Vermouth seems rather taken aback herself.

"I'm not on the side of the angels," Furuya says coolly, "I never was. But I'm still not on the side of the Organization, and I never was. I've done terrible things. I've killed people for a better tomorrow. But that's what the PSB is for. And if it's to protect my country" - his eyes narrow - "I'd do it a hundred times over."

Vermouth's expression is wiped of its knowing smile. It's carefully unreadable now, and she takes a step back, lowering her gun a inch or two.

She stares at Furuya for a few moments longer before saying, "It appears I've misjudged you, Bourbon."

Shuichi swears he can hear the slightest touch of disappointment to the voice.

She continues, an amused smile spreading on her face - "I'll let you go for tonight. I suppose that blackmail leaking on your death is something I'd still prefer to avoid."

Furuya smiles - but the expression is strained and his face ashen.

And as soon as Vermouth disappears - Shuichi ignoring her, because god, there's still that mist of anger towards her in his mind but there's more important things to worry about at the moment - Furuya completely collapses to the ground.

(There's too much blood, so much blood, Furuya isn't splayed against the edge of a rooftop but it's close enough and-)

"Furuya-kun!"

The words jump out of his throat. Before he knows it, Shuichi drops to his knees and leans in - Furuya stares up at him with dazed eyes.

"Adrenaline gone," Furuya says with a cough.

"Are you alri-" Shuichi starts, then cuts himself off because no, obviously Furuya was not alright. "I'll call the hospital."

A hand grips his left wrist weakly before he can grab his cellphone.

"No police," mumbles Furuya. Shuichi looks back towards Furuya with a frown.

"But-"

"- No police."

"...Alright," Shuichi concedes, even while wondering how to explain away bullet wounds to the hospital.

Furuya smiles, still looking dazed. Shuichi gently removes Furuya's hand from his wrist and retrieves his cellphone from a pocket.

He's just called the emergency number when he hears a final mumble fall from Furuya's lips.

"...anks Shu...chi…"

Furuya's eyes fall shut, but Shuichi's are wider than ever.

Shuichi!?

He manages to leverage the average person's lack of knowledge on FBI jurisdiction to shush any questions about Furuya's wounds for long enough to get in contact with James late the next morning. He manages to pass Furuya off as just a foreigner of Japanese descent, thanks to Furuya's odd colouring.

(As he lies to the hospital staff, he feels like he can actually hear Furuya snapping at him in offense.)

And so he pays for the hospital fees out of his pocket.

Shuichi just hopes James doesn't count under "police", but there's only so much he can do by himself.

In Furuya's private room at the hospital, James stares down at Furuya sleeping in bed - still too pale, but breathing easily at least - then looks back up at Shuichi, standing on the other side of the bed.

"We should be able to cordon off this hospital room without the PSB or local police noticing, at least for a few weeks," James says, "We'll keep it lowkey - just a couple agents."

"Thanks, James," says Shuichi.

James just nods shortly. "You've told me enough already, Akai-kun. Just get some sleep. The doctors said the man should be fine, didn't they?"

"Yes," Shuichi replies, nodding in return. "But danger might come from elsewhere."

"I can call Jodie-kun, then," James counters, "She can be here in minutes - you would trust her to stand guard, wouldn't you?"

Shuichi scowls a little, feeling vaguely irritated and not entirely knowing why. "...Yes, but…"

"You have bags under your eyes, Akai-kun," James says drily.

"That's not new," Shuichi points out reasonably, shrugging. He's not even feeling that tired - it's only been a few hours longer than a day since he last slept. He's stayed up for much longer before.

"That may be so, but…" James trails off, then sighs. "I'm sure you won't be of any use right now, Akai-kun. Sleep in a chair here if you must - the staff can give you a blanket."

It's only with reluctance that Shuichi agrees to James' suggestion, but James is looking more stern than usual - he just doesn't want to bother with arguing.

But when he finally closes his eyes on the chair, he's out cold in minutes.

"Akai?"

He wakes up to Furuya's confused voice and orange light streaming in through the window. There's a crick in his neck and his blanket fell off while he was sleeping, but he's had worse wake-up calls.

He blinks a few times, still groggy, before rubbing at his eyes with a hand. With some of the sleep rubbed from his eyes, he can properly make out Furuya half-sitting up in the bed, wearing a white hospital gown.

"Furuya-kun," he says, not bothering to hide the cheer he feels at seeing Furuya alive and somewhat well. He stands up and shuffles his chair over from the corner of room to next to Furuya's bed.

Furuya watches silently, still looking bemused and a little pale, but thankfully, not in pain.

"I… suppose you have questions?" Furuya tries once Shuichi is settled by Furuya's bed.

"Yes," Shuichi says shortly, some of his cheer dissipating as he recalls Furuya's 'death' with some irritation. He had many questions. But for now - "How are you feeling?"

"...I've felt worse," answers Furuya slowly - too slowly.

"I'll call a doctor," Shuichi suggests, but Furuya just shakes his head.

"Not right now," Furuya says, and his voice is steady enough that Shuichi lets it go for now. Furuya cocks his head to the side. "Did you manage to capture Vermouth or Chianti?"

"Vermouth, no," Shuichi replies, shrugging - then he smiles coolly. "Chianti, yes. She's in FBI custody the last I heard this morning."

Furuya stares out the window, frowning. "What time is it?"

Taking out his phone and glancing at it, Shuichi answers, "About five."

He slept longer than he expected, considering he fell asleep in late morning. Shuichi supposes that in his defense, he had been staying up later the past couple days planning everything.

"I see," says Furuya, turning his gaze back towards Shuichi, "And the police?"

"I had to contact the FBI," answers Shuichi, "But we've been keeping things quiet from the PSB and the local police."

"That's fine," Furuya says dismissively, then with a surprising amount of genuinity to the voice - "Thank you, Akai."

"Why, though?"

Furuya glances down at the bed, his hands clenching the sheets. He lets out an angry breath and, as if someone were pulling the words out of his mouth one by one with a pair of tweezers, mutters, "We have a leak."

"A leak?" Shuichi repeats with no little surprise. Furuya had survived for a terribly long time in the Organization as an operative from a bureau with a leak.

"And fairly high up, too," Furuya says, nodding. "This is an internal affair though, Akai. It's not your department - I put Kazami and a few others I trust on it. We've been working at it."

"Considering the FBI are working with the PSB, it's very relevant," Shuichi says coolly. Furuya should understand that perfectly well, no matter his embarrassment at his organization's incompetence. And - "Sergeant Kazami knows you're alive?"

"I got into contact with him shortly after my 'death'," explains Furuya, and Shuichi can't help a jolt of irritation at that on recalling just how strongly Kazami had tried to push Furuya's death. Furuya continues, "And… it's not our leak, exactly, Akai."

"What does that mean?"

"This place is secure, right?" Furuya asks, and Shuichi hesitates.

"It's been checked for bugs, and room is fairly soundproof - it's meant for use by the police," he says, and glances towards the door. He sees the shadow of brown-blonde hair through the clouded glass window and relaxes a little.

"Alright," Furuya says. He starts to shrug, but stops the motion with a grimace of pain. "It's a leak in the metropolitan police."

Shuichi's eyes widen, and Furuya smiles wryly.

"It's a fairly major leak too, but I have no evidence," Furuya explains, "Hence, the subterfuge."

"If you have no evidence, Furuya-kun, how did you find out?"

"I-" Furuya starts, averting his gaze. He pauses, then glances back with a frown. "When did you start calling me 'Furuya-kun', Akai?"

Shuichi raises an eyebrow, but nonetheless - "When did you start calling me 'Shuichi', Furuya-kun?"

A flush rises to Furuya's cheeks, and Shuichi can't help but stare at the novel sight.

(He never thought that he would ever think something like this, but it's actually a little cu-

- he cuts off his thoughts before they can go any further.)

"When the hell have I ever called you 'Shuichi', Akai!?" Furuya hisses, tone coloured with embarrassment.

"Right before you fell unconscious last night," he replies.

Furuya scowls, the flush fading away to Shuichi's mild disappointment. "I can't remember much from near the end, but whatever it was, I'm sure I was calling you by your full name, FBI."

"Alright, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says in a placating tone, then a little more coldly, "Don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject."

Furuya sighs. "I would've been more surprised if you didn't. I suppose you aren't going to let this go?"

"You spent months getting close to me," Shuichi says shortly, "Then made me think you were killed."

"So you think you're entitled to some explanation."

"I would like some explanation," Shuichi corrects.

"But you're entitled to it too," Furuya says quietly. He meets Shuichi's eyes, looking a touch regretful. "I am sorry for using you in the way I did."

"Using me?" echoes Shuichi.

"I originally intended to convince you to 'die' the way I did," Furuya explains, voice still and serious, "That's why I felt it was worth the time to try to get you to trust me. But things changed, and I realized that to make the moves I needed it would be easier to drop off the map, especially as I already had all the information I needed. So I let myself be seen meeting you because I felt that would be the easiest way to be 'revealed', even though I knew that might put you and your work at risk. I apologize for that."

Shuichi blinks once, twice, then carefully, without breaking eye contact - "So you're saying everything was just to manipulate me and the Organization?"

Furuya's eyes flicker to the side, and Shuichi smiles.

"Yes," Furuya responds.

"I don't believe that," Shuichi says immediately, and Furuya visibly chokes.

"What? I just said-"

"-And I say that I don't believe that," Shuichi interrupts, his small smile not fading. Oh, he was sure at least some of it was manipulation - this was Bourbon, after all. But everything that happened, the way Furuya acted during those visits - he finds it rather doubtful that it was all a lie. He continues, "Even if it was, though - I'm willing to start anew here."

"Y-you're willing to-" sputters Furuya, looking visibly unsettled, and Shuichi presses in on his advantage.

"-In my mind, we're friends, Furuya-kun," Shuichi offers.

"I- you-" Furuya seems lost for words. He buries his face in one his hands - the one not attached to his injured shoulder - and lets out a loud sigh. "You know what, I don't know why I'm surprised." He lets out a quiet laugh, a little nostalgic. "You never change, do you, Sh- Akai. Even if-"

Furuya cuts himself off before letting his hand drop back onto the bed. He looks back up at Akai. With a unexpectedly soft smile, he admits, "I already considered you a friend too, Akai."

It's a small surprise that Furuya admits it, but a welcome one.

"Then as a symbol of our new friendship, why don't you explain how you know what you know?" he asks, because Furuya is entirely correct - he isn't going to let this go, not this time.

"Now who's manipulating who," grumbles Furuya, but there's no bite to the words. "I… haven't told anyone about how. Didn't think anyone would believe me, but I suppose if anyone would, it would be you, Akai."

The words are intriguing. He didn't expect that Furuya had done something unbelievable to get the information he had - he expected something on the wrong side of the law, perhaps some desperate maneuvers.

"Try me. I'll keep an open mind," he says.

"Alright," says Furuya, then smiles sweetly. "If you laugh, I'll punch you in the face as soon as my shoulder is better."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

Furuya nods shortly.

His face completely solemn, lit up softly by the fading orange sunlight coming in from the window, Furuya says - "Time travel."

...Shuichi wants to laugh.

Furuya claims that his consciousness was sent back in time from six years in the future.

He also claims he doesn't know why - one night, he went to sleep in his apartment, the next morning he woke up in Bourbon's apartment, one he hadn't used for over four years.

"At first I was sure it was some strange dream," Furuya admits, eyes distant, "Then, I was just desperate to get back, but I forced myself to let go of those hopes quickly. It was… selfish."

"Selfish?" Shuichi echoes.

"I have a good memory, Akai," explains Furuya, "I remember many, many cases, even those from seven years ago. I had the opportunity to save so many lives, even if I was too late to save any of my own friends." He laughs, the sound a little choked, "I was really bitter about that at first. Still am, really. I was forced back in time, lost everything I had built up, just to be months too late to save even a single one of my friends. The gods are cruel, I suppose."

Shuichi doesn't know what to say. He just knows that the pain in Furuya's voice sounds terribly genuine, and so - "I don't think it was selfish to still want to go back."

Furuya scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. This was bigger than my personal woes. I needed to rank my priorities properly."

"And how did you rank them?" Shuichi asks.

"First comes the country and the people," Furuya says, holding up a finger in the air. He brings up another finger. "Then comes the PSB." Another finger. "Then friends and family." A fourth finger shoots up. "Then, and only then, comes yourself. You're supposed to rank yourself last, Akai. I'm a dog of my country, nothing more, even if I forgot that a little over these past few years."

"I can't say I agree with that," says Shuichi. He would protect innocents over himself, but he joined the FBI for his family. Perhaps it wasn't right, but there was little he wouldn't do for his family - and even his friends.

"I know you can't," Furuya says, smile quiet on his face. "But that doesn't change how I should feel about it, even if before I realized it, over the years, you ended up infecting me too much with your perspective."

Furuya explains how in the original timeline, he hadn't found out about the truth behind Scotch's death until much later. Explains how he had tried to kill Shuichi, numerous times, until he found out the truth and fell into despair, desperately clawing onto his hatred for Shuichi to keep himself afloat until he couldn't anymore.

"Originally, you were the one to fake your death to let Hondou-san - ah, I mean Kir - stay in the Organization," Furuya explains, "So I managed to stay in the Organization until the very, very end - but on that final strike against the Organization, I messed up and they found me out. I was stuck in an abandoned warehouse waiting for my death via time bomb, and well, I was willing to die."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't," says Furuya, nodding. He snorts. "You were actually the one to come blazing into that warehouse to save me, ignoring safety regulations that were there for a reason, Akai. We weren't even that close then."

At first Shuichi wants to object that if that really had happened, if Furuya is telling the truth, it would be a different Akai Shuichi who had done that - that he doesn't deserve that irritated tone.

But then he considers that he would probably do the same for Furuya in that situation, and decides to keep his mouth shut.

They're interrupted halfway into his tale, the sun almost completely set at that point. A doctor comes in and yelps when she finds Furuya sitting up in bed. She chases Shuichi out of the room and he leans peevishly against the wall while the doctor does all her checkups.

Jodie was standing out there, like he had expected - he tells her about Okiya Subaru but keeps quiet about the time travel. He's not entirely sure yet if he believes it himself, after all.

He and Jodie end up grabbing a quick convenience store dinner. With some convincing that Furuya would be more comfortable with him alone and perhaps some shameless use of 'you do trust me, right?', Jodie agrees to let him go back inside the room alone to talk with Furuya some more.

As soon as he returns, Furuya continues his tale. Summarizes what had happened to Shuichi's father in a few succinct lines that make Shuichi choke and his mind go a little blank. Talks about how Masumi and his mother had returned to Japan, talks about how Shuichi had eventually decided to remain in Japan to stay by his family after much wheedling from Masumi.

"You worked with your mother at first, but you got so sick of that so quickly you actually decided to join the police academy at age thirty-four," Furuya says, his voice surprisingly fond. "There was no way the PSB would ever let you join with your conflicts of interest, so you ended up joining the Tokyo Metropolitan department. You worked with Kudo-kun a lot - ah, he's a high school detective right now, I suppose you haven't really met him much in this timeline."

"I see…" Shuichi says slowly, disbelievingly. He's not entirely sure if he's up for parsing through this information dump, but the frightening thing was that the dump all seemed terribly plausible.

He pushes his thoughts of his father aside for now, because that would require a great deal more time to process than he had right now.

"Do you believe me?" asks Furuya, and Shuichi blinks, because the voice is vulnerable in a way Shuichi's never really heard before.

But despite his desire to say a little white lie, to say that he does believe Furuya, he doesn't entirely, not quite yet. It's all rather outlandish, and it's still possible that Furuya made it all up.

"It certainly would explain a lot, but…" he trails off.

Furuya nods, looking disappointed but not unsurprised. "We were… fairly close friends, by the end. You told me a few things about your childhood, things you said you never told anyone else. Would hearing one of those stories help convince you?"

It would've taken quite a bit of effort for Furuya to go all the way to England to interrogate his childhood friends and classmates for stories. Combined with all of Furuya's other mysterious knowledge, it might be enough to push Shuichi over into tentative belief.

"Shoot."

"You told me that when you first went into elementary school, you had troubles pronouncing 'r'," Furuya says, "Your parents often spoke in Japanese in the house as a child, and it affected your accent. The schoolteacher for Reception was named Ms. Reed, and so some of the other children would gather around you and taunt you to say Ms. Reed's name, but no matter how much you repeated it, it-"

"-Okay, stop," Shuichi cuts in, holding up a hand for Furuya to stop. He coughs, forces down the heat he feels gathering in his face, and says, "I believe you, I believe you, just… stop. Just how close were we?"

"Fairly close," Furuya says sweetly.

"Was I close with your wife as well?" asks Shuichi, perhaps a little cruelly. But it was something he wanted to know - whether Okiya Subaru's tale was as truthful as this one.

Furuya freezes and lets out an awkward laugh. "I'm sorry, my wife?"

"You're still wearing your ring," Shuichi says, nodding at Furuya's left hand splayed out casually on the sheets.

Furuya covers his left hand with his right in a decidedly self-conscious move. He glances to the side. "I just forgot to take it off, Akai. Don't think too deeply about it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Furuya says, a scowl on his face. He looks up to meet Shuichi's gaze steadily. "I assure you that I've never been married to any woman. Okiya's story of his wife was a fabrication."

Shuichi frowns, because Furuya doesn't look away, his voice doesn't shake in the slightest, but Shuichi is certain that the story wasn't false.

(He supposes Furuya is a talented liar, but still… he feels like he's missing something obvious.)

"Alright," he says. The conversation lulls into silence as Shuichi quietly muses over everything Furuya had said, hand on his chin.

It's some minutes until Furuya says abruptly, "Akai."

"Hm?" he says, hand falling off his chin.

Furuya smiles, as sugary sweet as a slice of strawberry shortcake stuffed to the brim with icing, and for the first time in a long while, Shuichi gets a strong urge to flee.

Shuichi stumbles out of the hospital room holding a looseleaf piece of paper. It's covered on both sides in Furuya's writing, a little messier than usual but legible nonetheless.

"What's that?" Jodie asks, peering at the paper in curiosity.

"A lot of it is just names," Shuichi says. He stares at the paper for a few moments longer, then folds it up and slips it into a coat pocket. "It's a list of people Furuya believes might commit murder in next several weeks, their probable victims, their motives, probable method of execution…"

Jodie whistles, looking impressed - and a touch shocked. "The PSB do things like that?"

"I don't think it's the PSB," Shuichi says, shaking his head and letting out a short, wry laugh. "I think it's just Furuya-kun."

"Why did he give you that information?"

"He wants me to do something about it while he's bedridden," Shuichi explains, then rubs at his forehead. "He wants me to convince them not to commit murder, or failing that, to catch them in the act."

"...He wants you to do that?" asks Jodie, and the skepticism in her voice is a little offensive.

"What?"

"It's just, sometimes you're not the most sensitive of people, Shuu," Jodie hedges.

Shuichi gives her an unamused look - Jodie looks back unapologetically.

He sighs. "There's someone else I might ask for help. I'd ask you, Jodie, but I want you to stay here when you can."

"Argh, I hate guard duty," Jodie grumbles.

"Thanks, Jodie," Shuichi says sincerely.

Jodie rolls her eyes, but looks a little pleased.

"You should appreciate it, Shuu," Jodie says with a smile. A pensive look falls on her face. "Though I admit, I'm also a little curious about what kind of person this Inspector Furuya is… you monopolised him all for yourself all day. I'll definitely be talking with him tomorrow."

"Most of the day we were both asleep," Shuichi counters.

Jodie waves a hand dismissively. "Details."

Shuichi snorts, then raises a hand in farewell. He heads out of the hospital, and once he's a fair ways away in a fairly secluded location, he brings out his cellphone and calls someone he hasn't talked to in a little while.

After a few rings, she picks up.

"Hello?" comes the voice from the phone.

"Hello, Akemi."

There's a couple reasons why Shuichi contacted Akemi, despite understanding how dangerous it was to be seen together.

The first is that Akemi is the only person he knows with even mediocre disguising skills. She's never tried disguising anyone but herself before, but with a few hit and misses, she manages to doll Shuichi up to look different enough from his usual self that he's sure any Organization member aside from Gin or Vermouth would dismiss the similarity to Akai Shuichi as a coincidence.

The second is that Akemi has always been a terribly kind person, but the kindness didn't come from a place of naivety. She grew up in a bloodsoaked Organization, even if it was at the fringes. She understood death, understood murderers, and he didn't know anyone better to help convince people to not take that final step.

It's awkward working with each other at first. They misstep all the time, accidentally brush and jump apart immediately. Gradually they get used to it though - or at least Shuichi gets used to it - and he finds he likes this, working with Akemi.

It's not quite as smooth as things were back in the Organization, when they were dating and truly loved each other, even with all his secrets.

But it's easier, and more honest, and in the end Shuichi finds he prefers it now, even with the occasional awkwardness. He's not sure if they can call each other friends just yet - it's hard, after a break-up, and he's surprised every day that he's become such good friends with Jodie.

He thinks that they might be heading there one day soon though, and actually finds he's looking forwards to it.

Shuichi doesn't go back to visit Furuya until he's crossed off all the names on the list, which is around three weeks later. Furuya's almost about to leave the hospital at that point - he would've left sooner, but the bullet that Vermouth shot into his leg had actually fractured the bone pretty deeply. It's apparently healing pretty neatly, but he'll still need crutches when he leaves.

He can't help but feel a little satisfied when he tells him about what he had done and Furuya stares up at him in undisguised shock.

(Furuya's still wearing the wedding ring. Shuichi can't imagine he forgot to take it off for three weeks straight.)

"I honestly didn't expect you to do this well," Furuya admits with a laugh from the hospital bed. Then his eyes narrow. "Who did you get to help you?"

"Akemi," Shuichi says easily, "She did a lot of the work."

"Huh," Furuya says, expression unreadable. "You know, I was meaning to ask you this for a while, but… were you telling the truth, when you told me as Okiya Subaru that you broke up with her?"

"I was telling the truth," Shuichi says, and finds that after two weeks of working with Akemi and moving past things, the next words come more smoothly out of his throat - "I don't love her romantically anymore."

"Honestly, I didn't expect that," mumbles Furuya, and the look to his eyes is a little lost, a little confused. "You always seemed to love each other so much…"

"Did we get together in the original timeline?" Shuichi asks, curious, because Furuya hadn't mentioned Akemi once in his description of the future.

"Oh, uh." Furuya glances to the side. "No, at least -" he coughs, "Ah, no."

And Shuichi can't help but frown at that, because if that was the case, why did Furuya always seem so convinced that him and Akemi were meant for each othe-

Shuichi's eyes land on the wedding ring still on Furuya's finger, and in a flash, he realizes why Furuya acted the way he did.

A sick feeling settles itself in Shuichi's stomach, his throat drying up.

It was so obvious. He has no idea how he could've missed it before. The subtle jealousy - because that's what it had been, of course that's what it had been - the constant questions about her, asking about their relationship and looking displeased whenever Shuichi said it was going well...

Furuya's wife had been Akemi.

And the man she hadn't been able to forget, the man who she had left Furuya for...

The only person it could've been was Shuichi himself.

It made sense.

If in the original timeline Furuya still had a grudge against Shuichi, then when he saved Akemi - because of his connection to her mother - he would've never let Shuichi get into contact with her.

Shuichi did notice that during his tale, Furuya had carefully avoided mentioning anything about what originally happened to Akemi. Considering that Furuya was actively pretending that he hadn't been involved with anyone in the future, it's logical that he would avoid mention of her.

(He should've pushed on the subject, demanded to know what really had happened to Akemi in the original timeline. But Furuya had been pale on the hospital bed and Shuichi got the gut feeling that whatever had happened with Akemi, it was something he wouldn't like to hear.

So he kept quiet.)

Of course Akemi would fall for Furuya. He was always a looker, but even putting that aside, he was intelligent, always so determined, and even when he got annoyed it was amus-

(-Shuichi has to pause for a moment at that, because when had Furuya getting annoyed at him become amusing rather than irritating?

But he finds it's true, that imagining Furuya snapping at him like a cat who just got its tail stepped on just makes him think that Furuya really is rather adorab-

Shuichi somehow manages to choke on his own thoughts and quickly smothers them.)

And it wouldn't be surprising if Furuya fell for Akemi right back - Akemi, who was always so understanding, so kind, who might've even accepted Furuya as he was, grudges and the blood on his hands and everything.

He doesn't know why he wasn't in the picture. Perhaps he went back to America for a time, and Akemi wasn't interested in a long distance relationship. Perhaps it was him faking his death like Furuya said he did.

Regardless, clearly Akemi thought that she didn't have a chance with Shuichi, and so she married Furuya despite still loving Shuichi. Only then his other self must've returned to the picture - maybe returning from America, maybe returning to life, he didn't know.

And Furuya was left with a broken heart and a "fairly close" friend who stole away his wife, and Shuichi wants to punch his other self in the face. Maybe a few times, for good measure.

What could he have been thinking!?

How could he have ever done that to anyone, let alone Furuya?

(But he does know, just a little, why something that seems so utterly unthinkable to him might've been possible for his future self.

He lets the quiet thoughts he's been smothering for quite some time now come to the forefront of his mind.)

He pushes a hand over his eyes and lets out a deep, strained sigh.

It could've been possible because while he just might be starting to fall for Furuya - clearly, his other self never had.

The right thing to do would be to reintroduce Furuya to Akemi.

Unfortunately, he's not quite as selfless as Furuya claims to be himself. Oh, certainly, he can rank himself before innocents, before friends, before family - when he needs to.

That being said, he's not open-hearted enough to happily watch as the person he may or may not be falling for gets together with someone else. He's amazed that Furuya could.

(But he supposes that Furuya had experience with it already.)

So what he does is nothing.

He doesn't mention Akemi to Furuya and doesn't mention Furuya to Akemi. He keeps on working against the Organization, keeps on working with Furuya and even Akemi at times and admittedly goes out of his way to avoid them meeting.

Perhaps it's petty. He finds he doesn't care.

Furuya doesn't stop wearing the ring.

Shuichi finds it vaguely irritating.

(Shuichi finds it incredibly irritating.)

He's still somewhat annoyed at Kazami for being part of the subterfuge behind Furuya's death, but he can admit that he does good work. It's Kazami and a few trusted members of his team that plug up the Metropolitan Police leak in the end (though granted, with the help of some information Furuya provides), while Furuya is busy with his machinations and Shuichi is following up on leads with the FBI.

And so Furuya Rei returns to life with little fanfare and a quiet welcome back from the PSB. He hears secondhand that Furuya had been subjected to quite the dressing-down from his superiors, but was reluctantly let off with only a drop in pay after handing them a laptop filled with Organization information.

(It's somewhat amusing that his superiors don't even question how Furuya got the information. Furuya is an excellent investigator, but not excellent enough to manage something as amazing as that.

But Shuichi supposes it's convenient for the both of them that his superiors think Furuya is larger than life.)

Furuya refuses to talk about what happened exactly, sadly, but Shuichi can't imagine the stories are too far from the truth.

While unfortunately Furuya doesn't remember every single little detail discovered about the Organization after its fall, what he does know is more than enough. It's a consolidated mass of information that the PSB, FBI, even MI6 apparently, had spent years putting together that Furuya has in the here and now.

It's more than enough to chip away at the Organization now that Furuya doesn't need to worry about the police leak, and chip away they do.

Furuya finally stops wearing the ring when he returns to work as a PSB agent, and Shuichi is a little ashamed at the excitement he feels when he spots the bare finger.

Then a few days later, he spots the thin silver chain around Furuya's neck and the outline of a ring under his shirt, and his stomach drops.

(He feels like Akemi's contact information on his phone is burning a hole in his pocket.)

Traditionally, Shuichi has enjoyed working with Furuya about half the time.

Back in the Organization, half the time they spent working together was spent with Bourbon making snide comments at best and going off at him for minutes at worst. He always felt a little sorry for Scotch for having to deal with them both, because admittedly, he never did much to soothe Bourbon's anger.

(Sometimes, when he was in a particularly bad mood, he might've even added fuel to the fire.)

Granted, sometimes those snide comments and fights were warranted and in the end, actually improved the plan. Other times, Shuichi felt like Bourbon was picking a fight for the sake of a fight.

(He might've been, actually. They all had personas to keep up in the Organization, and none of them wanted Organization plans to succeed, not really.)

The other half of the time they spent working together, the half Shuichi actually always enjoyed, was when they actually executed the plans they spent so long arguing about. Because even if the final decision was something Bourbon hated, he never let it show while completing the mission. No, he followed the plan unless circumstances required that he didn't, and even when that happened Shuichi was always easily able to follow his logic and back him up.

Now that they're working together again, it's easy, too easy, to step back into Rye and it doesn't seem like the years - all of them - have mellowed Furuya out any.

They give both of their subordinates a bit of a fright in their first joint meeting, first thing in the morning.

"Huh!?" Furuya snaps, tapping a pen against the table in front of them. There's a map of Tokyo spread out there, little Xes marked on the paper at major Organization illegal outposts. Warehouses, black market dealers - a wide variety.

"I said," Shuichi says irritatedly from his spot next to Furuya, "Going for the gun dealer in District 4 first makes no sense, even though she's codenamed. Once she goes under, the warehouse in the same district is sure to go underground - they buy from her."

"I'm not saying that we go for the gun dealer first, I'm saying we go for them both at the same time," counters Furuya. He sneers, his expression mocking, "Are your ears stuffed with cotton?"

Shuichi snorts derisively. "Is your mind stuffed with cotton, Bourbon? We can't do that."

"And why not?"

"Because," Shuichi snatches the pen from Furuya's hand - he sputters, but Shuichi ignores it - and circles a spot on the map a few times. "The drug dealer that spends time around here is connected with the warehouse in District 4."

"What-" Furuya glares down at the map. "How the hell are they connected?"

"He's dating a stocker at the warehouse," Shuichi says, "Didn't you read the supplementary documents from the FBI?"

"Well-" Furuya snatches back his pen from Shuichi and scowls. "Shut up, FBI!"

"Um… Furuya-san, Akai-san…"

At the cautious voice, both Shuichi and Furuya freeze. They look up from the map and around the table at the group of PSB and FBI agents who stare at them with expressions that range from incredulity to even fright.

Though Jodie just has a thin eyebrow raised - she looks more amused than anything else.

Furuya coughs once, the sound self-conscious. "My apologies. Shall we continue the discussion a little more calmly?"

And while things went smoothly for the rest of the discussion, Shuichi felt remarkably like something was missing.

(Furuya glaring at him with blazing eyes was quite the beautiful sight.)

Furuya approaches him that evening soon before Shuichi plans to leave the offices - he's sitting in some nook, flipping through a few documents in the hope that something of use pops out to him.

There's a picture-perfect smile on Furuya's face as he walks up to him.

Shuichi doesn't like it much at all.

"I really do apologize for this afternoon," Furuya says, and Shuichi swears he can see him sparkling. "I should've been more diplomatic."

"Furuya-kun," Shuichi says shortly, then raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure you can tell the blame's fifty-fifty - I was riling you up as well. What's this about?"

The smile falters for a moment before returning in full force. "I think it's normal to want to maintain cordial relations with work colleagues."

"Maintain cordi-" Shuichi starts to repeat incredulously, before just shaking his head. He frowns up at Furuya, and says, frustration bleeding into his voice - "We're friends, Furuya-kun."

They had been working together fine in the past couple months, before Furuya finally managed to come back to the PSB. Arguments like the one that morning were common between them - admittedly never in front of an audience before, but regardless.

He likes Furuya - more than he should - but Furuya's strange bouts really annoyed him sometimes.

(If Furuya was going to be in love with his ghosts of the future, there was nothing he could do about that.

But at the very least he wanted to know that he meant something good to Furuya.)

"Well, yes, but…" Furuya hems, glancing to the side.

"But what," says Shuichi flatly. He sighs, long-suffering, and thinks. The reason for this odd behaviour was most likely…

Shuichi stands up from his seat, Furuya taking a step back in surprise.

"What?" Furuya says defensively.

Then Shuichi smiles, and holds up the documents in his hand. "These documents are for the follow-up meeting tomorrow."

"Alright?"

"You can come over to my hotel room to discuss it tonight," he says, "Then we'll be on the same page for the meeting tomorrow."

Furuya blinks, looking taken aback. "Well, that's…"

"Your subordinates won't see the ugly side of you then, right?"

"That isn't the is-" Furuya bites his lip and Shuichi wants to groan because what was the issue, then? But then Furuya shakes his head back and forth and looks at Shuichi, small smile on his face.

It's uncertain, but it's soft and Shuichi drinks it in.

"I'm sorry," Furuya says, "That's a good idea, Akai. I'd be happy to come over."

Shuichi hesitates a little, wondering whether he should push further about the strange behaviour.

Then Furuya cheerily suggests, "Shall we go out for dinner first?" and Shuichi decides it can wait.

The system works well.

They meet up before meetings whenever they can, and most of the time they can come to a consensus by the end of the night. When they do, they show a unified front that makes colleagues on either side stare.

...When they don't, the fight continues during the meeting proper. Though Furuya usually manages to be a bit less actively aggressive and a bit more passively aggressive.

It's not uncommon for one of them to crash at the other's place for the night if their pre-meeting meetings last for too long, and before he knows it he's lugging around two of Furuya's spare suits between hotels.

"Your suits all look the exact same," Shuichi notes when Furuya brings over a spare suit for the first time. Furuya's draping it over the hotel couch, making sure no wrinkles form in the fabric.

Furuya clicks his tongue and scowls. "Don't want to hear that from someone whose closet consists solely of black collared shirts."

"It was just an observation, Furuya-kun," says Shuichi drily, "I thought it was unusual for someone like you."

"I stay in line at work, Akai," Furuya tells him, then a little regretfully - "I never particularly liked the outfits Vermouth dolled me up in either, but shaking the boat is dangerous."

Shuichi appraises the quiet look on Furuya's face and finds himself saying, "When everything is over, I might want to see how you pick out your outfits."

Furuya freezes for a moment before laughing dismissively. "You hate shopping, Akai."

"I feel like it might be interesting if it's with you."

"...Don't say stupid things," mutters Furuya, then changes the subject back towards planning their next operation.

It's not long until Shuichi realizes he enjoys their private meetings much more than strictly appropriate.

He likes being able to bounce ideas off of each other, likes being able to work together the best they can to make things perfect. He likes being able to let out his frustrations at Furuya, likes especially when Furuya throws a punch and they both end up on the floor, because while that might not be the most productive, it's certainly relieving.

(He likes it when Furuya comes out of the shower, hair wet and towel wrapped around his waist, and god he's terrible but seeing Furuya half-naked is very satisfying. Very.)

He likes it when they get to a dead end and Furuya throws up his hands, groans, and declares snappishly that they're watching a movie. Or sometimes, if they're in Furuya's apartment, that he's making something to eat and Shuichi's been indentured as his servant in the kitchen because "Akai, you could cook in the future, I know you have the capability."

He likes it when they sit next to each other on a couch, not as close as Shuichi might like but close enough. Close enough he can softly hear Furuya breathing, softly hear that Furuya is there and alive next to him.

But the thing he likes most that Furuya clearly likes it too.

(The thing he likes most is that he can almost forget about the ring still strung around Furuya's neck.)

Shuichi's minding his own business, having a quick lunch in a fast food place near headquarters, when Jodie slides in the booth seat across from him.

He most definitely does not like the look on her face.

And so his eyes narrow.

"Hey Shuu!" she says cheerfully, ignoring the look on his face. "How have things been?"

"...We just talked this morning, Jodie," Shuichi says.

"But I feel like you're not telling me important developments in your life," Jodie complains - then smiles. "Like how Furuya was wearing a black shirt today." She raises an eyebrow. "Your shirt, Shuu."

"He was wearing my shirt, yes," Shuichi agrees, and the uncaring tone to his voice is completely unfabricated.

Because as much as he might want differently, genuinely nothing had happened between them last night.

Furuya had spilled something on the shirt he had been wearing and both of Furuya's spare shirts that Shuichi kept with him were in the wash. Without any other choice, Furuya had to wear one of Shuichi's shirts to work.

(If he got a bit of a high seeing Furuya wearing his clothes, well, no one needed to know.)

"...And why was he wearing your shirt?" asks Jodie after a few beats.

"Because he needed a spare shirt." Shuichi brings his soft drink closer to his mouth and takes a few sips from it through the straw, watching in mild amusement as Jodie's face transitions from incredulity to annoyance to sheer exasperation.

"Shuu."

"Jodie."

Jodie lets out an irritated sigh and aims a similarly irritated glare at Shuichi. "I guess I just can ask Rei about it then."

The soda cup in his hand crumples, some of the pop inside spilling out on his hand. Jodie's irritated look disappears as she bursts out into laughter.

"You should really" - she chuckles again - "tone down that jealousy, Shuu. I see that part of you hasn't changed since we were dating."

As Shuichi grabs a napkin to wipe up his hand, it's his turn to sigh. "We're not involved in that way, Jodie."

"Really?" Jodie asks, sounding skeptical.

"Sometimes he stays over for the night - on the sofa - after we discuss work," Shuichi reluctantly explains. He discards his napkin on his tray and leans back against his seat. "That's all."

Jodie eyes him carefully for some moments - Shuichi meets the gaze steadily. Finally, she breaks the gaze, looking appeased - but a little sad.

"You know, I talked a lot with Furuya those few weeks he was in the hospital," she says, "He put on a prideful front a lot, but I honestly got the feeling he still liked you."

Shuichi slides out of his seat and stands up, grabbing the tray. Jodie looks up at him, the expression on her face still sad - still pitying, almost, and it pisses him off a little.

"'Like' isn't the problem," he tells her.

"You need a proper apartment," complains Furuya one morning as he's changing. He's tightening the tie around his neck as he aims an irritated glare at Shuichi sitting on the bed. Shuichi has already changed into his much more casual attire.

"Oh?"

"A 1LDK," Furuya decides, letting go of his tie. He grabs his suit jacket and slips it on as he talks. "Or a 1DK at least. Something with a damn kitchen. I want to make breakfast in the mornings."

"Sorry, one el dee what?" Shuichi asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A 1LDK," repeats Furuya, giving Shuichi a scathing look. "One bedroom and a living, dining, kitchen area. A 1DK doesn't have the living part. How many years have you lived in Japan?"

"Never needed to go apartment hunting before." Shuichi shrugs. "If I wasn't living in hotels, the Organization dealt with housing for us, remember?"

Furuya closes his eyes and lets out a loud sigh before saying, tone exasperated, "I'll help you look for housing."

"I'm an adult man, Furuya-kun, I can google these things myself if I need to," says Shuichi drily. He raises an eyebrow towards Furuya. "Though I'm surprised you care so much."

"What do you have against breakfast?" counters Furuya, crossing his arms.

"Nothing," is Shuichi's simple reply.

"Then you should have nothing to be surprised about," Furuya says, sticking his nose into the air. An exaggerated 'hmph' escapes his mouth. "I'll send you some sites you can look at."

(Shuichi finds his lips quirking up fondly at Furuya's haughty act. He can't seem to stop himself and-

That scares him.)

"You plan to spend that much time with me?"

"I sleep over once a week already, don't I?" Furuya points out reasonably, and Shuichi shrugs, because it's true.

Then suddenly, Furuya's eyes zero in on something on the bedside table and he freezes for some reason. He laughs awkwardly. "Don't worry, I'll stop staying over if I'm in the way."

Shuichi glances at the bedside table but there's nothing of interest there - just a lamp, a glass of water, his phone blinking with a new message -

- It's a new message from Akemi, and as sad as it is Shuichi feels like he's choking on the jealousy.

You could never be in the way, Shuichi wants to say. If I made a lover again I'd only want it to be you.

He swallows down the words. "Work is more important."

Furuya blinks in slight surprise, then smiles. "Something we can agree on, FBI."

(Shuichi wishes he could see any hint of disappointment in that smile.

But all he can see is sincerity and relief.)

True to his word, Furuya sends Shuichi some links to popular housing listing websites the next day. All the apartments that Furuya recommend are one bedroom.

Shuichi clicks on the menu bar on one of the sites Furuya sent and goes straight to the 2LDKs.

Sometimes Shuichi can't sleep at night.

The ones with the dead he can deal with. The dreams he had of Akemi before he learnt she was alive, those were fine - because no matter how much the Akemi of his dreams berated him, it just encouraged him, pushed him on, made him all the more determined to get revenge on Gin and protect her sister.

Being stuck somewhere, trapped somewhere, forced to watch as the first person he ever killed comes up to him with a gun to shoot him in the eyes like he had done to him - that was fine too. He's killed many more since then. It was fine.

Scotch-

He's never dreamt of Scotch.

(He supposes the guilt's present enough for him in the waking world that his subconscious mind doesn't feel the need to push it any further.

Or his subconscious mind just doesn't feel like he deserves to see Scotch again.

His conscious mind certainly doesn't.)

It's the dreams with the living that hit the hardest, though. The ones where his family and friends die in front of him, murdered by the Organization, while he's helpless to do a thing. He wakes up sometimes in a cold sweat and with a gnawing urge to go do something, anything.

(The ones where his hair is long again, there's a gun in his hand pressed to a chest, only this time it's a man with blond hair who stares up at him with a soft smile.

Right until the moment a bullet shoots through that chest and blood splatters against the wall.

Those nights he wakes up, eyes blown wide in horror, and just feels frozen in place for hours.)

He's heard that sleeping by someone's side is supposed to help with that. To have 'comfort'. It never helped much when he slept by Akemi - he just felt terrible when he woke up in the middle of the night and accidentally woke her up too, no matter how understanding she was about it.

But he will say it was nice being able to see her alive next to him.

And that it's nice right now, to be able to turn around and see Furuya sleeping on the couch nearby, chest rising steadily up and down.

(The nights when he can't see Furuya there are worse than they were before.)

As time passes and there's fewer meetings and more action, they meet less and less. Furuya's running himself ragged finding information to deal with butterfly effects, while Shuichi's just as busy threatening people through the scope of his rifle.

But Shuichi's paperwork for his new apartment finally goes through and he manages to snatch away Furuya for a night to drag him there.

"I have work," he complains.

"Resting is part of work," Shuichi counters, and Furuya scowls but doesn't argue further.

Shuichi certainly doesn't see any more hesitation on Furuya's part when Furuya steps into his apartment and immediately starts criticizing it. He snarks at the lack of an oven, judges the colour of the walls - Shuichi was a big fan of the pale blue, but what did he know - and flushes the toilet a couple times to deem it barely passable.

There's an almost gleeful light in Furuya's eyes as he talks and a satisfied smile wide on his face, a look Shuichi hasn't seen at all in the past couple weeks. And so if Shuichi were completely honest, he would admit that the caustic words go through one ear and out the other.

Then Furuya reaches the second bedroom and his mouth slams shut.

"There's two bedrooms," he says dumbly, and the dumbfounded expression on Furuya's face makes Shuichi want to laugh.

So he does, a loud, cheerful one, and Furuya flips around to stare at him, dumbfounded expression still pasted on his face.

"I thought a bed was better than a couch," Shuichi says drily. Besides, he certainly gets paid enough to shell out extra yen each month for a two-bedroom apartment instead of a one-bedroom.

Furuya continues staring at him for a few beats too long before he finally coughs and composes himself, expression now decidedly neutral.

"Well, I certainly won't argue against you funneling more money into the Japanese economy," he says primly, and Shuichi can't help a fond smile.

If Furuya starts coming over just to discuss things that could just as easily be discussed over text, neither of them mention it.

At this point, the PSB and the FBI have taken down quite a few of the lower-ranked codenamed operatives, and to say that the higher-ups are overjoyed would be an understatement.

But the big fish are still at large - Vermouth and Gin, Rum and the boss, among a few others - and with their capture of so many operatives, they've gone completely to ground. Even Furuya is at a loss for where they might be.

Well. At a loss for where most of them might be.

"They might not show their faces for years," mutters Furuya during a meeting, and Jodie slams her hands on the meeting table from across of him, her face set and angry.

"I'm not letting Vermouth get away," she snaps.

Furuya looks towards her and says, coolly, calmly, "You aren't going to like what I'm about to suggest, then."

Jodie's expression gets stormier and stormier the more Furuya speaks.

"Can't you talk some sense into him?" Jodie asks in frustration after the meeting, as they walk through the hallways. She throws her hands up into the air.

"Sense?" he echoes, hands in his pockets.

"Even putting aside that he wants to cooperate with Vermouth," Jodie starts, almost spitting out the name. She continues, frowning. "His plan puts him at a lot of risk. She nearly killed him once already. Furuya isn't a bad guy, I'd rather not see him dead."

"She's almost killed him more than once," Shuichi says absentmindedly, dredging up some old memories from when he was in the Organization.

He's about to talk about one of those many times Vermouth tried to kill Bourbon, but he clamps his mouth shut at Jodie's incredulous stare.

"All the more reason to stop him," she points out, but Shuichi shakes his head.

"The risk doesn't matter," he tells her, and Jodie raises an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm fascinated to hear your reasoning for that."

"All that matters is what we have to gain in comparison to the level of risk," Shuichi explains, lightly shrugging. "And leads on Rum, Gin, or the boss are worth the risk."

Jodie just frowns at him. They walk in silence for some time before Jodie finally speaks up again.

"That's like you to say, Shuu," she says, pauses for a moment, then - "But would you be so calm if Furuya actually died?"

And Shuichi just scowls a little, because both Jodie and himself know the answer to that question.

The night before the operation, Furuya comes to Shuichi's apartment. He doesn't give any explanations or excuses, not that he would need any. He just walks straight in as soon as Shuichi opens the door - neutral expression on his face - then flops face-first on the living area's single couch with a loud sigh.

Shuichi follows him there.

"Furuya-kun-" he starts, but he's cut off by Furuya lifting a hand high into the air.

"I'm fine," he says, voice muffled from being shoved into a couch cushion. The hand drops back down to the couch and makes a loud noise when it claps against the cushions.

"Right," says Shuichi skeptically.

Furuya sighs again before rolling over onto his back. He throws an arm against his eyes, shielding them from view. "This is a terrible idea."

"You're going to need to be more specific," Shuichi tells him. Furuya scowls.

"This." Furuya waves his free hand aimlessly. "That. I don't know. Everything."

"Not the best mindset considering tomorrow," Shuichi deadpans, looking down at Furuya with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe I'm saying this because of tomorrow," mutters Furuya. He rolls to the side, and even more quietly - "You know, Akai."

"Hm?"

Furuya is silent for a long while. Shuichi watches quietly as Furuya bites his lip, lets out a small breath.

Finally, he says, softly, "I don't want to-" Furuya bites his lip again and shakes his head. He sighs and rolls back forwards, his arm falling from his eyes.

The look to his eyes is a little lost, and Shuichi finds himself crouching down to be closer to those eyes, to meet him on the same level. He's desperate to touch him, to run a hand through that soft hair, but he holds himself back.

"Furuya-kun, I'll listen," he tells him instead, and those blue eyes of his flutter shut for a moment.

"I don't want to die anymore just for the sake of Japan."

His eyes widen, but before he can think of anything, something to say to that, a wry smile lands on Furuya's face.

"When I was originally twenty-nine, I'd do it in a heartbeat," he says, eyes opening to gaze at something far away. He chuckles. "I used to say that Japan was my lover, you know that?"

"You what?" asks Shuichi, half-choking.

"Just wanted to show how important my work was to me," Furuya explains. His eyes flicker to the side. "But I can't do that anymore. I tried. I really did. But" - he lets out a frustrated hiss - "I can't."

"I'm glad you have a survival instinct," says Shuichi, and the statement's completely genuine.

Furuya chuckles again. "I always had that, Akai. I just was willing to do away with it if I thought I needed to. But I can't anymore, because I feel like" - he hesitates before meeting Shuichi's eyes, a touch of vulnerability to his face - "I feel like the things I lost aren't too far out of reach, even though logically I know that can't be."

"Furuya-kun-"

"-I don't want to be killed by Vermouth tomorrow," blurts out Furuya before laughing, passing it off as a joke he didn't really mean.

He meant it. It was terribly obvious from the edge to the laughter and the strangeness to the smile, strangeness he couldn't express in words but he knew was there, somehow.

So it's partly that, and partly the reminder that Furuya might die, the reminder that they're both in a dangerous line of work, that makes Shuichi let himself reach out for Furuya.

He tangles his hand into Furuya's hair, and ah, it's as soft as it looks. The sound of Furuya's breath hitching the moment Shuichi touches Furuya's head makes his eyes widen and tentative hope rise within him.

Then he starts rubbing soothing patterns into Furuya's head and red starts to rise to Furuya's cheeks. It's a soft red, hard to make out on Furuya's darker skin, but it's there and evident and Shuichi is causing it.

Still, he has some self-control.

Until Furuya meets his eyes, mouth a little open, expression drenched with desire and want, and Shuichi discovers he doesn't care anymore.

He leans in that last little distance to slip his tongue into that mouth, and immediately there's a tongue aggressively sliding against his own and a hand pressing against his own head, forcing him closer.

Shuichi knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows he shouldn't be doing this as he lets Furuya tug on his arm, pulling him onto a sofa that's much too small for two adult men.

The couch's armrest is uncomfortable against the back of his head and so Shuichi tries to break them apart for air. Only Furuya immediately comes back down, tongue pressing against Shuichi's shut lips again until Shuichi gives in and lets his mouth fall back open.

They need to talk. The ring strung around Furuya's neck presses against his chest, the way Furuya is shoving himself against him is much too desperate, and they need to talk.

Then Furuya slips a hand underneath Shuichi's shirt, flitting down his chest, his stomach, lower, and all thoughts of talking fly from his mind.

Furuya leaves early in the morning. It's four or five AM, judging from the light outside, and Shuichi pretends to be asleep like a coward when Furuya rolls out of bed and walks out the door.

They both have jobs to do today.

It's not the time to talk.

He has Vermouth in his scope, and he'd like nothing more than to shoot. He might be on his stomach on a rooftop a quarter-mile away while Vermouth stands in a hotel lobby, people walking by every second, but he's made more difficult shots before.

But Furuya is making contact, and that's more important than his desire to see Vermouth dead.

Furuya isn't carrying a listening device. Too dangerous, he claimed, not worth the risk. Still, as he watches Vermouth and Fuuya talk to each other, neither of their expressions betraying anything, he wishes he knew what they were saying. They're too far away for Shuichi to read their lips, if he even had that skill.

It's only a couple minutes after Furuya approaches Vermouth that they head to the elevators, and then he's lost visual.

Shuichi can do nothing but wait, teeth clenched together a little tighter than necessary.

It takes two hours for Furuya to walk back out of the elevators, looking no worse for wear - physically.

But even from this distance, Shuichi can make out that Furuya's fists are clenched too tightly.

Furuya doesn't go into the details during the debriefing.

"Vermouth wanted information about a scientist," he says shortly. "She had the tools to get the information, she just couldn't put it together. I put it together, and in exchange," - he carefully places a USB key, black, nondescript, on the round meeting room table - "she gave me this."

He looks around the table, expression serious. "I've already verified the information to the best of my ability. If we play this right" - his eyes narrow - "We can take down Rum."

And the room explodes into excited chatter.

Shuichi remains silent at his seat.

The information Furuya extracted from Vermouth is time sensitive, and Shuichi is well aware that they can't afford to be distracted if they want Rum to fall. There's more important things at stake than personal issues.

So he pushes back his worries about what exactly happened with Furuya and Vermouth, and pushes back the thoughts of what happened the night before that meeting.

(Furuya had said he didn't want to die.

That didn't mean he wouldn't, if he thought there was no other option.

Shuichi tries not to lose contact with Furuya for too long.)

But in the end, neither Furuya nor himself play a major part in the operation to arrest Rum. Both of their faces are known by the Organization. The operation that was decided on required subterfuge and couldn't use a sniper.

He understands the logic.

But it's frustrating listening in on reports from field agents in the operations room miles away, helpless if anything happened.

A PSB agent ends up shot and in critical condition, but Rum is captured, along with one of his direct subordinates.

As others celebrate after the debriefing, Shuichi sees Furuya standing from his seat rather stiffly, expression unreadable, and so it's with a frown that Shuichi walks on over.

"Do you want-" he starts.

"-Yes," Furuya cuts in. There's a flash of something desperate in his eyes as he reaches out to grip Shuichi's arm, too tightly.

Shuichi frowns. "I didn't-"

"I don't care," interrupts Furuya again. He tugs at Shuichi's arm. "Let's go."

From the look on Furuya's face, he gets the impression that Furuya isn't thinking too hard about where. He just wants to go, and that's what Shuichi had planned on anyways.

"...Okay, Furuya-kun."

Shuichi takes Furuya back to his apartment, because it's private and even starting to get a little comfortable. Furuya doesn't object.

The moment the door shuts behind him, he's forced against a wall, Furuya's face pressing into his shoulder as his arms wrap around Shuichi. An undignified sputter escapes his lips.

(He can't feel Furuya's ring pressing against his chest, and his eyes widen.)

Shuichi's arms hover in mid-air at first - he's not quite sure where he's supposed to be putting them. But after some moments, he tentatively wraps his arms around Furuya in turn.

They stay in that position for a minute or two that seem to stretch out forever, Shuichi just quietly feeling Furuya breathe in and out, in and out. He can't quite bring himself to be the one to break the silence, not when he expects that Furuya will soon enough.

His expectations are met.

"I apologize," Furuya finally mumbles, formal, stilted. He lets go of Shuichi, tries to step back.

Shuichi tightens his grip, pressing Furuya closer - Furuya lets out a yelp of surprise, and Shuichi holds back a laugh.

"For what?" he asks.

"For…" Furuya trails off, sighs, and slumps back into Shuichi's embrace. His arms come back up to wrap around Shuichi again, and Shuichi smiles. Furuya continues quietly, "I promised myself I wouldn't do this again."

"This?" Shuichi echoes.

Furuya is quiet for a beat. Then, finally, Furuya blurts out - "I promised myself I wouldn't let myself be second place again. But" - he laughs bitterly - "I don't care anymore. I don't care if you still love Miyano-san, Akai. I don't care if you two are meant to be, if you're perfect together, if you're going to moon over her the rest of your life. I don't give a damn."

His hands tighten on Shuichi's back, and he continues, voice quiet and half-broken, "Just let me pretend that you love me."

Shuichi freezes, his grip around Furuya slackening as his mind works in overdrive to parse what Furuya just said.

Furuya begins to declare something snootily, but whatever he's saying doesn't register. It sounds like babbling to Shuichi anyways, a desperate attempt by Furuya to try to save face after pouring out too much of his true thoughts.

He shoves back Furuya so he can see his face. He's a little more rough than he intends - Furuya cuts himself off, a touch of nervousness to his eyes, as he's pushed back.

"I-" Shuichi starts. "I thought you loved Akemi."

Furuya visibly chokes. "What!?"

"You- weren't you married to her?" demands Shuichi. He feels so confused.

"How the hell did you come to that conclusion?" Furuya snaps. He rolls his eyes, looking exasperated. "That would've been impossible anyways, idiot FB-"

Furuya's mouth slams shut and Shuichi's eyes narrow.

"Why impossible?" he says sharply.

Furuya purses his lips and glances to his side.

"Furuya-kun."

His gaze darts back forward, and reluctantly, Furuya mutters, "Miyano-san died in the original timeline. I wasn't there to save her, and Gin killed her."

"...I see," Shuichi says levelly.

(Even as he feels his insides turn to ice. If it happened once, could it happen again-)

"-This is why I didn't want to tell you," snaps Furuya, eyes flashing, and it's enough to jolt Shuichi out of his thoughts. "Because I knew you'd look like that."

Shuichi closes his eyes and sighs, forcing himself to calm. Akemi was safe. Furuya and himself both had made sure of that. And right now, what he really cared about was-

"Furuya-kun, I care for Akemi deeply," Shuichi tells him, and a bitter smile twists up Furuya's lips.

"I know. I'm telling you that I don't care," Furuya says flatly.

Shuichi is already shaking his head. "You're misunderstanding. I care for her, yes. I see her in a romantic way, no."

Furuya scoffs. "I find that hard to believe."

And well, clearly Furuya does or else he wouldn't have begged Shuichi to pretend to love him, as if it were a given that Shuichi couldn't love him for real. He needs to choose his words carefully here.

(There's a niggling thought in his mind suggesting just why Furuya finds it so hard to believe.

It's a thought that Shuichi doesn't want to believe.)

"When Akemi and I started our relationship again," he begins slowly, "Past the first week or two, it was rough."

"You always said it was going well, at least until after I faked my death," Furuya says, unimpressed.

Shuichi shakes his head again. "I just didn't want to admit it, especially when I thought you were looking for weaknesses. But I got distracted during our dinners, missed meetups…"

"I'm aware of your failings as a lover," Furuya snarks, and Shuichi lets out a long sigh.

"Just listen, please, Furuya-kun," he almost pleads, and to his small surprise Furuya shuts his mouth. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he continues, "I was always too distracted when I spent time with Akemi. When I spent time with you, though, I- you made me forget that you were an Organization operative." He chuckles, a fond smile spreading on his face. "I watched a movie with you, and I just found it fun."

He recalls sitting in a car with Akemi, remembers her sad look he hadn't understood at the time, and murmurs - "I think I was already half in love then, and Akemi saw it long before I did."

Furuya is shaking his head, eyes wide, even a touch panicked. "You can't be serious."

Shuichi meets Furuya's eyes steadily - he feels his expression softening to an embarrassing extent, but finds he doesn't care.

"I'm very serious," Shuichi says calmly. "I love you, Furuya-kun."

At those words, Furuya jerks back as if struck.

Shuichi raises an eyebrow and comments, drily, "Did you think that I let just anyone sleep with me?"

"No, but, well," Furuya coughs and straightens himself up primly. "I am quite attractive."

The amused laugh escapes Shuichi's mouth despite himself. He brings his left hand up to lace through Furuya's hair and smiles as Furuya meets his eyes with hesitant, tentative hope.

"That alone isn't enough for me," Shuichi informs him. His eyes flicker down to Furuya's lips, and god, he wants to kiss him, but there's something else he needs to make clear first.

A niggling thought he wanted to ignore.

If Akemi had died in the original timeline, if Furuya hadn't been married to her - then there was still someone else Furuya could've married that would explain his behaviour. Explain his fixation on Shuichi's relationship with Akemi, explain the jealousy. Explain how his wife could tell him that she would be in love with someone else forever without Furuya caring enough to take back the proposal.

(It was so easy to idealize the dead.)

"Furuya-kun, what exactly was our relationship in the future?" asks Shuichi.

"I told you we were close friends, didn't I?" Furuya hedges, his eyes flickering downwards.

"I can believe that," says Shuichi with a shrug. He gives Furuya a cool look. "But was that all we were to each other?"

Furuya is silent for a beat, two - "No."

"No?" Shuichi repeats.

His grip tightens on Shuichi's back, as if he were afraid Shuichi was going to leave, and he feels a little bad for pushing. But it's something he needs to know, if they're going to be doing this.

"We were married, in everything but the law," Furuya admits finally.

There's something bright and cheery and warm blooming in Shuichi's chest. He feels almost intoxicated as he leans in, presses his forehead against Furuya's, and smiles.

He can see the hope in Furuya's eyes growing, and it just makes his smile widen.

"Marriage would be a bit of a jump," Shuichi says with a laugh. "But I would very much like to try being your lover."

Furuya stares at him for a second with wide eyes.

Then there's lips - a bit chapped - pressing against his own, and Shuichi supposes he can take that as a yes.

A couple hours later that night, they're lying together in bed, Furuya pressed against him as his fingers trace patterns against Shuichi's back.

They're supposed to be getting to sleep, finally, but instead Furuya mutters, "You know I'm not a good person, right?"

Shuichi doesn't bother to deny it, because while he might love Furuya, might even think there's plenty to admire about him, he doesn't think Furuya a good man. But it didn't matter, really, because…

"Neither am I."

"...I never did tell you what happened with Vermouth, did I," Furuya says quietly.

"Which time?" he asks drily.

"The most recent time. To get information about Rum," answers Furuya, a touch snippish.

Granted, yes, he probably could've guessed which time, Shuichi's decided he's going to avoid assumptions and guesswork when it comes to Furuya for the foreseeable future.

"If you want to talk about it, I'll listen," Shuichi says, trying for encouraging.

Furuya's silent for a small while, then - "I said she had the tools to get the information she needed. The main 'tool' she had was a man who supposedly had information, tied up and bloody on a chair in her hotel suite."

Shuichi's eyes widen. He hadn't expected that, though in retrospect it made sense.

"You tortured him," he states, only for Furuya to swat his back with a scowl.

"No, I didn't," corrects Furuya irritably. "Torture tends to be unhelpful. People tell you want they think you want to hear, not what they actually know."

"Ah," Shuichi says shortly, letting out a self-conscious cough. This was why he needed to keep to his vow to avoid assumptions when it came to Furuya.

"I might as well have, though," Furuya mutters, "I found out his family - facial recognition is so good nowadays, if you know what keywords to use to filter - and found out he had a little brother going to middle school in Tokyo. He didn't know I was PSB, as far as he knew I was a criminal, same as Vermouth. So when I told him with a smile that if he didn't tell us something useful, little Itsuki-kun would go bye-bye, he spilled everything Vermouth wanted to know."

"It was kinder than torture," Shuichi offers, and Furuya scoffs.

"Was it? Really?" he counters, then shakes his head and sighs. "That wasn't the issue though. The issue was that after he told us everything he knew - Vermouth pressed a gun into my hand and told me to kill him if I wanted her information."

"What did you do?" asks Shuichi carefully.

"I didn't kill him. I shoved the gun back into Vermouth's hand and told her I wouldn't." Furuya scoffs. "But what I did doesn't really matter."

"It doesn't?"

Furuya says quietly, "I would've killed him, Akai. If that had been the right answer."

"...Vermouth didn't want you to kill him," Shuichi guesses, and Furuya gives him a short nod.

"She still didn't trust I was out to get her for the Organization, not really," he says, eyes distant, "Even after I promised to protec- well, it doesn't matter. It was a test, an obvious test, and I knew I would pass it by refusing. So I refused. Not because it would be wrong to kill an innocent man - because it wouldn't be helpful."

He laughs, a sour expression on his face. "I didn't want to die myself, but I was willing to kill an innocent. I didn't want to die myself, but I sent out my subordinates to go die against Rum."

"I won't say that it's right," Shuichi says calmly, "But you had to think of the bigger picture. And even if you didn't want to die, you were willing to. Just like your subordinates."

"Stop coddling me!" Furuya snaps, and all of a sudden the grip around Shuichi is all-too-tight. "I'm trying to tell you-"

"-I'm not sure what you're telling me," Shuichi cuts in, "But whatever it is, I don't care. I know what kind of person you are, Furuya-kun. What kind of person I am, too. Anything you tell me won't change that."

The grip loosens, and Shuichi lets out a small, relieved breath.

"I never understood it, you know," says Furuya, looking lost. "Why you fell for me. I thought I did, I was so confident that I did, but I learned that was nothing but hubris when I proposed to you and the first words out of your mouth were, 'I love you, but.'"

"I can't speak for my alternate self," Shuichi answers slowly, "But for myself…"

He hesitates. He's never been the most eloquent person when it comes to things like this, but he has to hope what he has is enough.

If he really wanted to - he could list out all of Furuya's traits that Shuichi admired or loved. His top-tier intelligence, his loyalty to his country and its people, his skill as a boxer. But none of those things were really why Shuichi had fallen for him.

No, it was really just-

"It's comfortable around you."

"Excuse me?" Furuya sputters.

"You knew me as Rye, you know me as Akai Shuichi," Shuichi says with a smile. He brings a hand up to caress Furuya's cheek as he leans in to quickly press a kiss against Furuya's lips. He leans back. "I can just be myself and no matter how much you complain, you don't actually care, do you?"

A flush, pleasingly red, spreads across Furuya's face. "I- well." He scowls, though the effect is ruined by the blush on his face. "You didn't have to say that out loud."

"You asked," Shuichi deadpans.

"Yes, well." Furuya coughs, flush still going full-force, and buries his face into Shuichi's neck. Voice muffled, he says, "I like that I can be comfortable around you too, Akai."

And so Shuichi presses Furuya closer and smiles.

Later still that night, when Shuichi's almost dozed off to sleep-

"If I get sent back again, if I have to lose everything again, I don't think I'll be able to take it."

It's a quiet murmur, one Shuichi isn't entirely sure he's supposed to have heard. But it didn't matter.

He doesn't know why or how Furuya was sent back, though god that's something he wants to look into. So he can't say it wouldn't happen again, can't even promise that Furuya wouldn't lose him in the here and now any more than Furuya could. At any time, either of them could be shot by a criminal, or could be blown up, or hell, could choke to death on a chestnut.

But there is one thing he can promise.

(Furuya had done his best to push him towards Akemi, but Shuichi had just fallen for him again.)

"I think, Furuya-kun," Shuichi says quietly, "What happens twice, would happen thrice. No matter what you try to do about it."

Furuya laughs softly. "You're saying that I'm useless?"

"No," says Shuichi sharply, then composes himself. "I'm saying some things might always happen regardless of your wishes."

"So you're saying I'm useless for some things," Furuya says, and no, that's not what he means, but Furuya doesn't sound sad, just terribly amused. Furuya continues, "It's alright, I think I understand what you're trying to say, Akai."

There's a small, comfortable silence before Furuya breathes, so very quietly - "Thank you."

It's awkward, sometimes, dating someone who knew so much more about you than you of them. It's difficult, having to deal with the fallout of mistakes made by someone who was you, and yet wasn't. Sometimes he wonders if he would've been better off not knowing.

But fights never affected how they felt about each other when they were just friends, and they don't affect how he feels now that they're something - well, more. Sometimes he just gets irritated, sometimes he gets genuinely angry, but at the end of the day it's Furuya and Shuichi's anger dissipates sooner than later.

He's not sure if Furuya really believes that Shuichi doesn't still love Akemi, even as Furuya and Akemi meet again, as they grow friendly towards each other.

But it doesn't matter. Because regardless of what Furuya might think, Shuichi is in this for the long run.

And he'll stick by his side like a burr until Rei understands that too.

A/N: Sorry again for not realizing I didn't crosspost! Again, I won't be posting on this site any longer, all my fics will be on AO3.