That's wrong, he thought. His head understood. It had already been three days since Shiho vanished on Monday night. And yet — the feel of the farewell note in his pocket still seemed to remember her warmth, and that sensation tightened around Shinichi's chest. Late Thursday night. An abandoned research facility on the city's outskirts. Shinichi pried open a rusted emergency exit. The screech of grinding metal was swallowed by the darkness. *(So this is... the Organization's.)* The corridor walls were stained with blackened chemical residue in patches. Number plates peeling away. "Subject No. 24," "Subject No. 37" — parts of the lettering were worn and illegible. The precursor toxins to APTX4869. It was obvious that human experimentation had been conducted here. Shinichi stopped in his tracks for just a moment. *(Shiho... lived in this world.)* Deep in his chest, a quiet anger began to smolder. That heat, stronger than fear, pushed Shinichi's feet forward. He gripped the flashbang in his pocket. The cold feel of metal sharpened his thoughts. At the far end of the dim corridor, he saw a figure. A guard. One man in a black jacket, patrolling with a radio in hand. Shinichi pressed himself into the shadow of the wall, held his breath, and observed the man's movements. His gait, the sweep of his gaze, the spots where he paused — within thirty seconds, Shinichi had the pattern. *(His blind spot — there.)* Shinichi moved without a sound. The instant the man turned the corner of the corridor, Shinichi closed in. He hooked the man's leg to break his stance, and before the sound of a fall could echo, he compressed the nerves in his neck. The man crumpled. He hadn't let him make a sound. The first one. In the next corridor, there was a second. Faint static leaked from his radio. The moment the man was distracted by a voice saying "Respond," Shinichi seized him from behind in a full nelson. He compressed the artery in his arm, rendering him unconscious in seconds. The third was standing on the stair landing. Shinichi's eyes caught a fire door whose hinges, starved of oil, would creak. He pushed the door open slowly, and before the groan of metal could ring out, he closed the distance in one burst and slammed into the man. He drove a blow into the solar plexus of the man whose back had struck the wall, draining him completely of strength. Three men. Neutralized without a sound. *(Hurry — to where Shiho is.)* Shinichi descended the stairs. The air in the lowest-level passage was even colder, stagnant. Only the iron door at the very end leaked a faint light. He kicked the door down. **BAM!!** It was a laboratory. Beneath the dim fluorescent lights, a single folding chair stood in the center. The moment he saw Shiho's figure bound to it, Shinichi's vision blazed red. Shiho's lip was cut, blood seeping through. A bruise marked her left cheek. One sleeve had been torn from the shoulder, her slender arm exposed carelessly. And yet Shiho — the instant she saw Shinichi's face, her eyes narrowed faintly. "[whispers]...You idiot, coming alone." At that voice, Shinichi's throat trembled. She was still worrying about him? "[serious]You came, Kudou Shinichi." A cold woman's voice came from the edge of the room. Vermouth stepped forward slowly. Her blonde hair caught the fluorescent light, and a quiet smile played on her lips. The handgun gripped in her right hand was aimed at Shiho's temple. "[cold]To bury the two who destroyed the Organization, right here. That is the last job left to me." Shinichi stepped forward slowly. He clenched his fists. "[serious]Is your objective revenge?" "[cold]No. Loyalty. The last, to an organization that has ended." There was no madness in her voice. Only a quiet certainty. Her finger settled on the trigger. His eyes met Shiho's. Her pale blue eyes saw Shinichi's right hand slide into his pocket. Instantly understanding the meaning of that movement, she gently closed her eyes. *(Now.)* Shinichi slammed the flashbang against the floor. **FWOOOSH!!** White light exploded through the room. Vermouth screamed, clutching her eyes. In that single instant, Shinichi crossed the distance in three strides, leaped to Shiho's chair, and flashed his pocket knife. The restraint ropes fell away in tatters. As smoke filled the room, Shinichi pulled Shiho's slender body into both arms. Her body was trembling in small shudders. Fear, or relief. Enveloping those tremors, Shinichi spoke. "[gentle]...I'm late. I won't let go again." It was a short sentence. But everything was in it. Words to fill the three-day void — perhaps that alone was enough. "[surprised]Ah, ahh—" The moment Shiho tried to speak, footsteps sounded from within the smoke screen. Vermouth, staggering to her feet, reached for a panel on the wall. "[angry]You're coming with me...!" A button was pressed. Immediately after, a low warning alarm reverberated through the entire facility. A section of the ceiling groaned, and fragments of concrete pattered down. "[scared]The self-destruct system...!" Shinichi instantly deduced the direction of the exit. From the layout of the corridors he had observed on his way in, he calculated the shortest route in a flash. Two right turns, up the stairs, left at the far end —. "[serious]We're going, Shiho." He draped Shiho's arm over his own shoulder and held her. Half-carrying her, her legs too weak to find strength, Shinichi broke into a run. Behind them, part of the ceiling collapsed. A roar. Dust. Taking chunks of falling concrete against his head, Shinichi leaned his body to shield Shiho. Shiho wrapped her arms around Shinichi's neck and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. *(Protect her — this time for sure.)* The weight in his enfolding arms. Her shoulders, far too thin. Had they not even let her eat properly — the moment he thought it, a heat mingling rage and the urge to protect surged through Shinichi's entire body. Shiho's ragged breath brushed the nape of his neck. His heart leaped. *(I will never let go.)* Her body heat came through his shirt. Her thoroughly chilled body was faintly regaining its warmth. Shiho's fingers dug tightly into Shinichi's back. "[whispers]...Shinichi." Her lips called his name in a voice that barely became a voice. Shinichi readjusted his hold on Shiho and ran at full speed through the collapsing corridor. With every vibration that traveled through the soles of his feet, a rain of debris peeled away from the ceiling. Still, he did not slow down. *(The exit — just a little further.)* Before his eyes, the green light of the emergency exit floated dimly into view. At that moment. Behind them, the roar of an entire wall collapsing. Dust robbed him of his vision. A scream resembling Vermouth's death cry was heard for an instant, then immediately erased by the sound of rubble. Shinichi did not look back. Gazing only at Shiho in his arms, he sprinted through the crumbling facility. He burst through the iron door with his shoulder, out into the open —. The cold late-night air enveloped them both. The facility collapsed behind them. Shinichi fell to his knees, yet still did not let go of Shiho. Holding her body against his chest, he drew his first deep breath. "[whispers]...Shinichi-san." In his arms, Shiho stirred faintly. Her eyes, caught in the moonlight, wavered. The pale blue that should have been cold as ice was now — wet with tears, trembling faintly. "[gentle]I'm... sorry... I..." Cutting off her words, Shinichi gently pulled her head to his chest. "[serious]Don't say anything. You're alive. That alone is enough." Shiho's slender shoulders were trembling. She was crying. Silently, her face buried against Shinichi's chest. Shinichi wrapped those tremors in his arms and said it once more. "[gentle]Let's go home, Shiho." In the distance, the wreckage of the collapsed facility sent up its final pillar of flame. Dawn was still far away. But the warmth in his arms alone — was unmistakably alive.