A Striking Resemblance

By the time Inspector Megure arrived on the scene with the proper specialists in tow — summoned, at last, by Natsuyu's phone call — the cordon around the site had already tightened into a knot of flashing lights and anxious onlookers.

It was only when she caught sight of one of those specialists that Natsuyu remembered the wrinkle in the original story, and with it, the uncomfortable realization that she had completely forgotten about Matsuda Jinpei.

Not that she could really be blamed for it. These past weeks had been one crisis after another; go long enough without seeing someone's face, and even the most important details slip through the cracks.

Matsuda, for his part, had only just returned to Beika after a three-month exchange posting — and on his very first day back, a case had landed in his lap.

Those three months in Yokohama had been perfectly tranquil. Matsuda had complained the whole time about having nothing to do, but never in his wildest moods had he imagined that the moment he came home, he'd run straight into a bomb — and straight into that girl he'd been meaning to contact all this while.

His expression turned a little strange as he thought it over. Three encounters, three bombs. He was starting to suspect the two of them were simply fated for explosives.

He watched her walk up, hand over the bomb's detonator, and turn to go — and called out to stop her. "Miss Natsume, could you hang around for a bit after this? There's something I'd like to ask you."

He wasn't going to keep putting it off. Fate had dropped her in front of him today, so today was the day. Wait any longer and some fresh emergency was bound to come up, and who knew when they'd cross paths again.

"Oh. Sure."

Once he'd stopped her, Natsuyu had a fair idea something was coming, though she couldn't begin to guess what Matsuda wanted with her. She would simply have to wait until he was done.

She went off to the side to give her statement, and while she talked, she let her eyes wander. At some point Akai Shuichi had vanished entirely, while Dr. Araide was still watching her out of the corner of his eye, subtle as ever.

Natsuyu genuinely couldn't understand why Vermouth was so fixated on her. She was no different from anyone else — unless you counted being marginally better at throwing a punch. Surely that couldn't compete with her Angel and her Cool Guy, the ones worth all that attention.

A glance told her Matsuda would be tied up for a while yet, so she pulled out her phone and returned a call to Kaeya.

Only then did she learn what he'd wanted: there was a magic show next weekend, and he would be taking Klee to see it. That much was harmless enough — but he'd also just received word from the Black Organization. That day, Alhaitham would be attending alongside Bourbon, using the occasion to hand Kaeya a USB drive containing the transaction data, while Kaeya would pass over the remaining batch of reagents owed for the month.

Originally it was supposed to be Ireland and Bourbon making the trip. The swap for Alhaitham had come about, so the story went, because Alhaitham had previously asked to meet the person behind the reagents, and Cointreau had agreed. Since the handoff to Kaeya was happening in person this time, it was convenient to bring Alhaitham along.

(The truth, of course, was that Cointreau had no intention of letting Amuro Toru get his hands on that data and pass it along to Public Security — and he didn't trust Ireland to keep Bourbon on a short enough leash. Alhaitham wanted to meet Kaeya anyway, so Cointreau had simply seized the chance to send the two of them together with the drive, confident that Alhaitham would never give Bourbon so much as a second to copy its contents. As for whatever data came later: for one thing, it wasn't nearly as sensitive as this first transaction, and for another, he fully intended to find a way to pull Bourbon away when the time came.)

Once she'd taken all this in, Natsuyu began quietly despairing on behalf of Lyney and Lynette, whose performance was still a week away. Inviting Conan to a magic show had already been something of a gamble — a murder or two would have been par for the course, but now the Black Organization was coming as well. Here's hoping nobody blew up the venue.

"Miss Natsume... Miss Natsume......"

It took several calls before Natsuyu surfaced from her thoughts and realized Matsuda had already finished dismantling the bomb and come to stand in front of her.

She apologized, a little sheepishly.

Matsuda waved it off; it didn't bother him in the slightest, and he came straight to the point. "Don't worry about it. Actually, the reason I wanted to talk to you is..."

That night, in Ms. Jodie's apartment.

She swept the rooms thoroughly for bugs first, and only when she was satisfied they were clean did she dial a number on her phone.

With that, Jodie found herself thinking back to the kick the girl had landed on the bus, and curiosity got the better of her. "Oh, right — Shuichi. That blonde girl sent the hijacker flying with a single kick on that bus. Could you pull that off?"

On the other end of the line, Akai Shuichi swirled the ice in his glass, gave it a moment's thought, and answered. "I could. But the way that girl moved — no, kicked — was effortless. She clearly had plenty left in reserve. Speaking strictly on that point, I might not measure up to her."

Jodie blinked at the answer. So that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pretty, delicate-looking little thing was actually stronger than Shuichi? Was that why the woman had taken an interest in her? And why that particular word?

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Natsuyu lay in her own bed, tossing and turning, sleep refusing to come no matter what she did.

She rolled over once more onto her back, eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, and the conversation she'd had that afternoon with Matsuda Jinpei drifted up through her mind...

Earlier that day.

"What I actually wanted to ask," Matsuda had said, "was whether you have any male relatives. An older brother, maybe?"

"Officer Matsuda, where did that come from?" Natsuyu had stared at him, eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wide, utterly unable to see where the question was going. As far as she remembered, she'd only ever mentioned having an older brother in front of the Detective Boys. Had one of the kids told him? That didn't hold up either — they'd barely seen the man lately, and children didn't just volunteer that sort of thing to strangers.

Seeing that she wasn't going to answer directly, Matsuda raked a hand through his hair in mild irritation. Worried she'd get the wrong idea about why he was asking, he decided to come clean about what had happened three years ago — and along the way, gave her a rough description of what the person who'd saved him had looked like.