The Boy Who Ought to Be in School
Since the Organization had planted a bomb, they couldn't possibly stand by and do nothing — they would need to find a way to spare the manpower to dismantle it. And they couldn't relax on the other front either. The enemy held a hostage, and for that hostage's safety, they would have to dispatch people to mount a rescue as well.
Which meant the manpower available for moving Hidemi Hondou would be drastically reduced, and the safety of the transfer itself would hang by a thread. Akai Shuichi had already worked out the Organization's purpose in doing this. A faint sense of something being off still nagged at him, but the pressing question remained: given that they were shorthanded, should they risk moving her early or not?
The bomb and the hostage both demanded attention — neither could wait. So the real question now was this: did they gamble and move Hidemi Hondou to another hospital right away? Or did they first hide her in a different room, wait until the bomb and the boy's brother were dealt with and they had hands to spare, and only then transfer her?
Seeing that the boy's attention had been drawn to Conan, Judy seized the opening to shoot James a questioning look. What do we do now?
This sudden complication had thrown their original plans into disarray, and James was torn over which option to choose. But before making the call, he did the sensible thing and split off his people — one team to deal with the bomb, another to rescue the hostage at the location the kidnappers had mentioned to the boy.
He then had one agent escort the boy to a separate room. The conversation that followed was not something the child should overhear.
The boy, seemingly reassured by the news that they had sent people to save his brother, offered no resistance as he was led away. He kept his head down and trailed after the agent in low spirits.
Akai Shuichi watched them go, then turned to his superior and gave his opinion. "We're shorthanded, yes — but if we're going to move her at all, I say the sooner the better."
Conan agreed. "Mm, yeah." He nodded along. "I think Akai-oniichan's right. Moving her quickly is exactly what the Organization is trying to prevent — if we delay the transfer, aren't we playing right into their hands?"
James was won over by the two of them and made the snap decision: the transfer would begin immediately.
After leaving the room, Judy found the image of the boy's red-rimmed, frightened eyes replaying in her mind, and she couldn't help worrying about his state. Mid-stride, she changed direction — she would check on him one more time before they left, maybe comfort him a little.
She reached the room where the boy was being kept and knocked. No answer. Her brow furrowed; a faint unease prickled in her chest as she twisted the lock open herself.
A few steps inside, she froze in shock — the colleague who had escorted the boy lay sprawled unconscious behind the door.
Judy realized at once that something was terribly wrong and spun around, sprinting back toward Hidemi Hondou's hospital room.
Akai Shuichi, watching from a short distance away, registered Judy's frantic movement and understood instantly that something had gone wrong. He tore after her.
Conan, who had been trailing at Akai Shuichi's side the whole time, remembered that Judy had gone to check on the boy's room just now — and the pieces clicked. There was something wrong with that boy. And if the boy was a plant, then his brother certainly was too.
Oh no — the FBI teams at the bomb site and the hostage site are in danger!
The realization struck him in an instant. He whirled around and bolted in the opposite direction from Akai Shuichi.
Judy flung open the door to the hospital room — and there lay the two colleagues who had been assigned to move Hidemi Hondou by stretcher, both collapsed on the floor, out cold.
And that boy who had looked so delicate and harmless was standing over the bed, one fist knotted in Hidemi Hondou's collar, hauling her upper body off the mattress — preparing to sling her over his shoulder and carry her out.
At the sound of the door he glanced over his shoulder, saw Judy, and let out a sigh of genuine annoyance. His expression tightened with irritation as he quickened his movements — he would hoist her up and go out through the window.
But at that moment Akai Shuichi arrived at the doorway. He made his decision in a heartbeat, drew his pistol, and fired several shots just wide of the boy, forcing him away from Hidemi Hondou.
To dodge the bullets, the boy had no choice but to release his grip on her collar and let her drop.
THUD!
Judy had been keeping her eyes locked on the suspicious boy, but the sound yanked her gaze to Hidemi Hondou's head for an involuntary glance, a spike of alarm flashing through her mind: She hasn't woken up since the head injury — if she's been knocked around again, what if the damage is worse?
Akai Shuichi knew nothing of what was running through Judy's head. He kept his weapon trained on the boy, watching him with unblinking wariness. Seeing that he made no move to approach Hidemi Hondou again, Akai held his fire — but not his tongue. "Who are you? Is the Organization really going after children this young now?"
In stark contrast to Akai Shuichi's coiled alertness, the boy stood completely at ease even with a gun pointed at him, as if his life weren't in the slightest danger — a mocking smile playing across his face.
He ignored the question entirely. "So you're Akai Shuichi. The Silver Bullet that can pierce the Organization's chest — that's what that gloomy old man calls you, isn't it? Honestly? You don't look like much."
There wasn't a shred of respect in his voice for the man he called his boss.
Judy stared at the boy, whose every expression and inflection was now worlds apart from how he'd behaved before, still struggling to believe it. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought that the frail, innocent-looking child from minutes ago was one of the Organization's own.
She couldn't help but try to reason with him. "Kid, the Organization isn't a good place. You're at the age when you should be in school — violence like this shouldn't be part of your life. If you're willing, we can put you in witness protection..."
The boy's eyes snapped toward Judy with a glare, tuning out everything after her first word. It was only the way she'd addressed him that had registered.
"Who are you calling kid?!" He rolled his eyes. "Heh. You haven't been in the field as long as I have. What gives you the right to talk down to me?"
At those words, Judy's brow creased, and her loathing for the Organization deepened another notch. He'd been operational longer than her — which meant he had likely joined, and been sent on missions, before he was even ten. The Organization didn't spare even children that young!
By then, the other FBI agents, drawn by the gunshots, had come running.
Hearing the footsteps, the boy shot an irritated glance at Hidemi Hondou on the bed, then at the gun in Akai Shuichi's hand. Taking her was no longer an option. He prepared to withdraw.
Akai Shuichi read the movement instantly, his finger tightening on the trigger to stop him.
But then — a violent gust erupted inside the room, so fierce that Akai Shuichi had to squint against it.
Even half-blind, he lunged for the hospital bed on instinct, seizing Hidemi Hondou's hand by where he remembered it to be.
Through the roaring wind, Akai Shuichi vaguely caught the sound of a clicking tongue — and then, just as quickly, the wind died away.