It had been an hour since Agasa Hiroshi went upstairs. Not even the creak of the stairs. He must have been asleep for a while now. The living room held just the two of us — me and Haibara. Only the wall clock's second hand ticked away, unnaturally loud. The Agasa house late at night was silent and bitterly cold. I sat sprawled on the sofa, staring blankly at the case notes spread across my lap. Two locked-room murders, one after the other last week. Both in an old apartment building on the edge of Beika Ward, and there was a line of investigation suggesting both victims were connected to the Black Organization. …Still not enough evidence. Tracing the criminal's method in my head, I unconsciously reached for the watch on my left wrist — I had a habit of flicking the casing with my fingernail. *Click.* My fingers met empty air. "…Huh?" The familiar weight that should always be on my wrist was gone. Agasa Hiroshi's special creation, the wristwatch tranquilizer gun. A concealed weapon with an effective range of about fifteen meters — one hit and the target is asleep in three seconds. It had slipped away, vanished. "[sarcastic] Looking for this?" I looked toward the voice. Haibara stood leaning against the kitchen doorway. When did she get there? In her right hand, she dangled my wristwatch, swinging it back and forth. In the dim light of the living room, the cold metal casing glinted. "[serious] Hey, when did you take that?" "[sarcastic] While you were absorbed in your case notes. For a detective, you're pretty careless." Haibara's lips curled upward. She was smiling. But her eyes weren't smiling at all. Cold, yet somewhere within them burned a feverish heat — she was looking at me with those eyes. Slowly, she raised the wristwatch, pointing the tranquilizer needle's firing port straight at me. Her finger settled on the trigger. "[whispers] Tonight, I'm the one who puts you to sleep. Not you." "[angry] You've gotta be kidding me — give it back!" I leaped off the sofa. But Haibara was a split second faster. She circled around to the far side of the living room table, smoothly putting distance between us. "[laughing] Think you can catch me, little detective?" "[angry] You're just as small as I am!" With the table between us, we glared at each other for a while. When Haibara moved right, I moved right. When I dashed left, Haibara went left. A strange game of chase. And partway through, Haibara started stifling laughter. Her shoulders trembled faintly. "[angry] What are you laughing at?" "[laughing] Because… the desperate look on your face is hilarious." Hearing that, I almost started laughing myself. No — this is not the time to be laughing! I was supposed to be seriously angry, but the corners of my mouth kept trying to twitch upward against my will. Damn it. She's dragging me into her pace. At last, I cornered Haibara at the edge of the living room. A narrow gap between the bookshelf and the wall. No escape route left. "[serious] Give it up, Haibara." I closed the distance in one rush. My right hand grabbed her wrist. So thin. It felt like it might snap if I put any real strength into it. My left hand reached to take back the tranquilizer gun— That was the moment. Haibara took one step forward. As if pulling the wrist I had seized toward her, she pressed her forehead against my chest. Her body heat was right there. I couldn't move. I couldn't let go of her wrist. Whether I didn't want to let go, or couldn't — I didn't even know myself. This distance. This warmth. Last Friday night, in this same living room, the words "I like you" — that night came flooding back with vivid clarity. Saturday after school, behind the science lab, the sensation of our lips meeting for the first time — it clung even to my fingertips. Sunday morning, that single moment when Haibara picked up my phone— "…I said give it back." My voice came out a little hoarse. Haibara didn't answer. She just kept her forehead pressed against my chest, breathing quietly. —That's when it happened. *Bzzzt.* On the table, my phone vibrated. The screen lit up for just a moment. The notification preview floated up toward the dark ceiling. 《Mouri Ran: Conan-kun, if you're free today, can I call…》 The full message wasn't displayed. But the instant I saw the name, a sharp pain twisted in my stomach. "…It's from Ran-neechan." I let go of Haibara's hand and moved toward the table to grab my phone. In that single moment of vulnerability. Haibara's hand slipped forward, smooth as silk. She snatched the phone before I could, tapping the screen several times. "[cold] Oh my. The battery was getting quite low, so I'll plug it into the adapter." She said this as she held the phone out to me. The screen was already locked. I took the phone and opened the messaging app. …Nothing. Not a single notification from Ran remained. "[serious] Hey, wasn't that just now from Ran-neechan?" "[sarcastic] Who knows? It was some strange invention emoji from the professor. Something about an alarm function." Haibara was already standing in the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove. Her back turned to me, her expression perfectly composed. For several seconds, I stared at the phone screen. The message list held only the history up to yesterday. When was the last time I exchanged messages with Ran, anyway? (…Seems like notifications have been vanishing an awful lot lately.) I muttered it inside my head. But I didn't say it out loud. For some reason, I was afraid to bring it up to Haibara. Haibara turned around. With the dim kitchen light behind her, half of her face was sunk in shadow. Her other eye was watching me. —A piercing gaze. From an angle where she thought I wasn't looking, quiet and sharp. The scent of black tea slowly began to fill the living room. After a while, I steeled myself and opened my mouth. "[serious] Hey, Haibara." "[cold] What?" "Lately, my phone notifications keep disappearing. Messages too — sometimes they vanish without me even reading them." I said it while staring hard at Haibara's profile. "You haven't been messing with it, have you?" Haibara's hand stopped — just for a split second. Mid-motion, lifting her cup. But immediately, it resumed its usual rhythm. "[cold] How rude. I have no interest in other people's phones." "But it didn't look that way." "[cold] And how did it look, exactly?" "Just now, when you picked up my phone—" The moment I started to say it, Haibara turned. She set her cup down on the saucer. The soft clink of ceramic meeting ceramic echoed unnaturally loud. "[cold] Then let me ask you—" The temperature of her voice changed all at once. "If Mouri-san did contact you, what would you say back?" "…That's…" Words failed me. "[cold] Hiding your true identity, telling lies, then losing sleep over the guilt again — is that really the right thing for you?" Haibara's voice gradually took on heat. I could tell — beneath the coldness, a burning emotion lay hidden. "[cold] I'm hunted by the Organization. Living in this body is agony for me, too. Even so—" She cut her words short, just once. "[whispers] I have no one but you." That voice was far lower than before, and trembling. "[crying] Every time you remember Mouri-san, I feel like my place to belong is shrinking away more and more… and that terrifies me." Tears welled up in Haibara's eyes. At the edge of her eyelids, tiny droplets quivered. I couldn't say a thing. Anger, suspicion, everything I wanted to argue back — it all retreated deep into my throat. (She's genuinely dependent on me.) Somewhere in my head, a cold voice spoke. (This might be calculated. These could be words to bind me.) But more than that— Seeing her face on the verge of tears, I found myself unable to speak. "…Fine. I get it." I dropped back down onto the sofa with a thud. I swallowed my anger. Without even being able to sort out what exactly I was angry at. Haibara looked down at me for a while, then eventually let out a quiet breath. "[gentle] …There's something I want to show you." Saying that, she lifted the old rug in the corner of the living room. She hooked her fingers into a gap in the floorboards and pressed a hidden switch. With a low rumble, the bookshelf against the wall slid sideways. Behind it, a staircase leading underground yawned open. The Agasa house's underground lab — about thirty tatami mats wide, lit stark white by fluorescent lights. The walls were lined with lab equipment: centrifuges, electron microscopes. On the shelves, countless reagent bottles and stacks of lab notebooks stood in rows. We descended the stairs and stepped into the lab. The chilly air clung to my skin. Haibara pulled open a drawer in the lab bench and took out a small glass vial. Inside were several white tablets. "[cold] A prototype antidote. It's a little more stable than the last batch." She held the vial up to the light. The white tablets glowed pale under the fluorescent lights. "[cold] The first dose lets you return to your original body for twenty-four hours. But each time you use it, the effective duration shortens, and the side effects — chest pain and high fever — get progressively worse." "[serious] I know that." I folded my arms, staring at the vial. A temporary antidote to return to the body of Kudou Shinichi — a stopgap measure. But the more you use it, the more it becomes a poison that eats away at your body. Haibara rolled the vial in her palm and murmured quietly. "[whispers] It's just like our relationship, isn't it." "…What do you mean by that?" "[gentle] The more you use it, the more it eats away at you. But you can't stop using it—" She stared intently at the vial, then lifted her head. Her eyes — the traces of tears from earlier had already dried. "[gentle] The more I'm with you, the more the danger grows, and the guilt grows too. Even so, here we are, together. It's the same as a poison you can't escape." I couldn't say anything. (She's good with words.) I couldn't argue. I knew it wasn't a laughing comparison, but I thought it was completely true. Haibara gently pressed the vial into my palm. Her small fingers brushed against mine. "[whispers] Hold onto it. For when you decide to use it." "…Me, huh." "[gentle] Yes. Because someday, you want to return to normal, don't you?" One vial of white tablets. In my palm, the weight sank in heavily. If I take this, I can go back to being Kudou Shinichi. I can see Ran. But — if I do that, Haibara will be alone. The moment I accepted the vial, I felt like something inside me had been decided. A sensation as if one option had vanished. Haibara looked up at my face steadily, then smiled softly. "[gentle] It's all right. Even if you go back to Mouri-san, I won't resent you for it." Her voice as she said it was gentle. But her eyes, once again, slowly held that piercing light. The lab's fluorescent lights buzzed faintly. In the cold white glow, our shadows stretched long across the floor. Unable to say anything, I shoved the vial into my pocket. My gaze drifted upward, toward the top of the shelf. One of the lab notebooks, crammed in haphazardly, was shoved in at an angle, left open. On the open page, I could see hastily scrawled writing. 《Remnants — confirm movements. Bay Area, Vermouth.》 —What? "[serious] Haibara, this is—" The moment I started to speak, she was already walking toward the stairs. "[cold] Let's go back up. It's cold." Without turning around, she said it quietly, flatly — shutting me down. I looked back and forth between the notebook and her retreating back. (She already knows, doesn't she — about the Organization's remnants.) And she still hasn't told me. In my pocket, the vial pressed coldly against my leg. Unable to ask anything, I silently followed Haibara's figure as she climbed the stairs. The entrance to the underground lab slowly closed. The bookshelf slid back