Chapter Text
“I didn't imagine it, right?”
The two sat with each other in the canteen of the hospital they were both being treated at.
He shook his head, writing words on his whiteboard he's forced to use now since he'd cut his vocal chords.
“I saw it too.”
A sigh.
“So he really did jump off that ship?”
“As far as we know.” He wrote more.
The brunet raised his eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
And the other wrote furiously on his little whiteboard, getting frustrated at how small it was. “We didn't recover his corpse anywhere. It might've been his plan to do that.”
Totomaru went a little pale at the implication. “His plan? Could he have planned that far ahead?”
“He’s a Moriarty.” That was enough of a reason to throw doubt onto the death of Milo. Moriarty’s were like cockroaches; difficult to kill and you couldn’t be sure they were dead until you heard a crunch.
Ron’s hand tightened around his marker. It was bad enough that Ron was a Moriarty, but to see Toto, his darling partner, lying in a pool of his own blood, brought low by a person who shared his ancestry.. That was a scene Ron had no intention of ever replicating.
Toto was mumbling quietly to himself as he ate some soup. Ron tilted his head closer to listen in. He didn’t have any food in front of him, since he was due for surgery soon. He’d dragged Toto to the canteen to make sure the stubborn man ate something today. Toto had the bad habit of forgetting to eat sometimes.
“Everything’ll be ok. Ron’s smart enough to thwart him again, if it comes to that. I just hope he stays gone.” Ron’s heart ached. Toto put so much trust in him, and he was terrified of failing. He almost had failed Toto on that ship, had almost killed him.
He couldn’t listen anymore to Toto’s trusting words. He picked up his whiteboard and started scribbling madly on it. Toto looked over at him curiously. After a couple minutes of drawing and erasing, he revealed the artwork to his partner.
Toto’s eyebrow rose into his hairline. “All that just for a simple platypus drawing?”
Ron turned his lips into a dramatic downturn, pouting monstrously.
“It is very cute,” Toto added hastily when he saw Ron’s expression. Toto traced a finger right above the platypus’s head, as if petting it. His expression turned neutral. “Are you nervous?”
“About what?” Ron scribbled at the top of the board.
Toto blinked, and surprise colored his features for a moment, as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “Oh! Um, about the surgery. Dr. Mofu said she’s confident in it, but even then, it’s still risky.”
Ron thought about it for a moment, tapping the pen to his chin. He wasn’t worried about the surgery very much. He was confident in the neurosurgeon’s abilities. What he was worried about was his partner. Toto had been acting differently since they returned from the ship.
It was to be expected. The trauma that they went through was not easily shaken off like an old coat. But there was something that had been scratching at the back of Ron’s mind, like Toto was different because of him somehow, but Ron didn’t know what he’d done to cause that.
Was Toto angry that Ron had considered letting an entire room of innocent people die, just to let him live? Had the choices he made on that ship affected their partnership? Ron shook away the questions, pushing them to the back of his mind. Toto was terrible at hiding his inner thoughts, so all Ron would have to do is wait long enough and hope Toto talks about it.
Instead he wrote down a couple reassurances on the whiteboard to show to his partner. Toto’s shoulders slumped a little, though Ron could not tell if it was from relief or more worry.
To avoid an awkward silence, the brunet looked down at his watch. “Looks like it's almost time for your surgery.”
Ron quickly wrote more on his whiteboard. “Good, I'm starving from fasting.”
It was hours of being inside the operating room. Toto was forced to wait outside, still feeling a small ache in his stomach from being shot. He'd taken so many painkillers, and even though he could absolutely take more, he doesn't like the idea of being reliant on them.
He paced around the viewing window of the operating room. It was a little freaky to see Dr. Mofu in her element. Gone was the clumsy doctor who fell and knocked things over; here she was, confident, every movement precise and measured. It was also super freaky watching Ron be fully conscious while his head was cracked wide open.
Toto was shocked… Actually, not really, at the fact that Ron got so bored of the sanity-gauging tests he was given that he was trying to yawn. The nurses told him Ron would need to do something like that during surgery so they can be sure they didn't touch a bad nerve and cause him to lose his cognitive function.
Though, the brunet thought that he'd be better off if he was given unsolved murder cases to ponder on during it, instead of asking what the fruits on the cards were.
They stopped the surgery worryingly when he stopped responding, but his eyes had wandered off to look at the brunet outside and try to wave at him.
It caused an annoyed expression to be put on the officer's face at the fact that he wasn't focusing on helping his surgery go as smoothly as possible.
Ron gave a very, very big pout at him before returning to respond to the nurses helping him.
It was far into the night when Ron was finally released from the operating room, and sat straight up in his hospital bed. “I'd ask if you're feeling better, but I guess we won't know if you're fixed at all until we solve another murder.”
“Can't wait!!” Ron hastily wrote down on his board, so quick that all the strokes to his words were connected.
The very large smile faded when Totomaru scolded him. “You say that like you hope someone was murdered!!”
Ron’s lips fell to a downturn, and his expression turned dour. He looked like a kicked puppy. “You’re right…” He wrote along with a sad face.
Toto sighed and settled into his seat more. The room turned quiet, but it wasn’t a heavy silence. It was the silence of intimacy and closeness. It must have been a mixture of the quiet and the dim lighting, but Toto found himself zoning out, eyes fixed sightlessly on the bandages around Ron’s head.
He remembered something, he wasn’t sure if it was just something he dreamt up in his state of being half dead. He recalled a familiar figure standing at his side, Winter Moriarty. Their silver hair had looked muddy in the darkness of his hospital room; rogue flashes from their ears as the silver hoops reflected the dim lighting just right. Their face was hidden in shadow, or maybe blurred from his hazy memory.
“Milo is gone. The Moriarty family is being shaken up for the first time in generations.” Their voice was clearer than his vision of them. “You have my thanks, Totomaru Isshiki.”
He tried to garner as much strength as he could to prepare to fight, but it was futile. There was nothing he could do but be at their mercy, and talk a few lines. “Thanks? Have you betrayed them?”
Their expression and tone of voice barely seemed to change. “No, just Milo.” A straightforward answer, unlike all his encounters with them before.
“Why?” He hoped to add more questions, but he had no energy left.
They quickly walked away when met with the question, but they paused at the door, frame hesitating. “How is Captain Amamiya?”
Toto had been surprised at the change in topic. Was Winter planning to hurt her more? He remembered that they had nearly blown Amamiya up in Shibuya. “She’s fine.” It was all he could manage to say, but it seemed satisfactory enough to Winter, who nodded.
They turned to leave, their final words slowly echoing through the hospital room. “Heal your wounds, Officer Isshiki.”
When Toto pulled himself from the memory, he realized Ron was staring at his midsection, right where the bullet hit him.
The past few weeks had been eventful to say the least. They both needed reassurance; proof that they were safe and alive.
“It’s been healing pretty good; doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” Toto said, playing slightly with the bandages through his sweater. Ron blinked, surprised from his meditation. His fingers tightened on his pen; the tip of it was poised over the pale surface of the board, waiting to receive Ron’s communication. But it wasn’t forthcoming.
Slowly, Ron began to write.
It seemed like he was writing a lot. Toto couldn’t see from his angle on the chair, but Ron was very focused, with his lips pursed in concentration.
The door to the room opened and a nurse came in. “Sorry to interrupt you, but visiting hours are over.”
Toto stood, back cracking a bit from his poor posture in the chair. He bowed to the nurse and promised he would be heading out soon. When he turned back to see what Ron had been writing, he was met with a blank whiteboard. There were dark smudges that showed whatever had been written there had been erased.
Then Ron scribbled a quick Goodnight. Sleep tight!
Toto ignored the disappointment that stirred within him. “Good night, Ron. I’ll be back tomorrow. You want any books or anything?”
“Sure, bring me something from your apartment that I haven’t read.”
Toto rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t have much to offer from his home other than ratty, beat-up detective novels that were a penny a piece. They were fantastic stories, but not ones that would really wow a genius like Ron.
Finally, after a few more rounds of treatment and tests, they were cleared and released under promises to take it easy and return immediately if they face any complications.
“Home, sweet home,” Toto said as he opened the door to the Manager’s apartment at the Maison du Kamonohashi.
Ron smiled at him and showed him a quick doodle of a platypus dancing. He was definitely in a better mood now that he was home; his grin stuck to his face as he roamed the apartment and refamiliarized himself with its innards.
Toto set down their bags, filled with half-empty snacks and dirty laundry from their long hospital stay. He started loading the washer, when Ron’s silent feet padded up behind him. A hand tapped his shoulder.
“Hmm?” Toto looked back to see Ron’s tablet shoved in his face. It was a doodle of a cat with question marks around it.
Toto straightened up. “Oh! Just a moment. Chikori and Dr. Mofu have been taking care of the cat in their apartment.”
Just then the bell rang at the door.
Speak of the devil (or devils in this case), there they were before them. “Isshiki-san, Kamonohashi-san.” The two greeted.
“Chikori-chan! Mofu-sensei! It is good to see you again” Toto said. The women smiled at him, brightening up Ron’s apartment with their genuine joy. It was a breath of fresh air after the days and days stuck in the hospital, with nothing but the company of buzzing LEDs, beeping machines, and the lingering scent of disinfectant that stained every surface.
Behind them entered the cat, who lazily strolled to the middle of the floor and plopped down. Ron went and laid next to it, petting its exposed tummy.
“Here, let me handle that for you,” Dr. Mofu offered when she realized he was working on laundry. “Just relax, Isshiki-san.”
Dr. Mofu hurried to the pile of clothes, only to trip on air. Chikori was prepared for this and managed to grab her before she face-planted on the floor, even if it was soft.
“I’ll take care of this, Mofu,” Chikori giggled. She righted the clumsy doctor and began stuffing the remaining clothes into the washer.
“Thank you, both,” Toto said. He clutched lightly as his injured stomach, relieved that he wouldn’t have to bend over. All that was left to unpack were the few books he’d brought to entertain both himself and Ron. But it seemed Dr. Mofu was ahead of him.
“Cool Animals?” She asked. Propped in her hands was a large, hard-cover book with bright primary colors and a messily-pasted images of a lion, a platypus, and a tarantula on the front.
Ron came bounding up and plucked the book from her hands. He flipped to a specific page and began pointing at it emphatically. He had left his whiteboard on the ground, but he was managing to communicate his excitement nonetheless.
Toto chuckled. “I found that book at home, so I brought it for him to read. He has the page for the platypuses memorized.” Indeed, the page Ron was excitedly showing Mofu was the one on semi-aquatic egg-laying mammals.
“Ron-san prefers the animal books, while Isshiki-san prefers the detective novels,” Chikori said. She finished with the laundry and was looking at the rest of the piled books, all of which were well-loved mystery stories.
Ron nodded frantically, head bobbing up and down like he was listening to rock music at five times speed. “Tone it down, Ron. Don’t hurt your neck or head,” Toto and Mofu chastised in unison. Ron stopped and draped himself over Toto’s shoulders with an apology written on his face.
The women shared a look. Toto didn’t want to label the emotion in that glance.
“We’re really glad the two of you are ok. We were all so worried for you when we heard people were getting killed on the ship you were on,” Mofu said seriously.
“Yes, but I knew you two would be ok. After all, the ace of the first division was there,” Chikori said with a smile. Her glasses flashed, but Toto thought he caught sight of some unshed tears.
“Who?” Toto asked. Amamiya wasn’t on the boat, and neither was Kawasemi. And Ron wasn’t part of the first division.
Ron shook his head at the question, his messy hair tickling the side of Toto’s neck.
“You, silly!” Chikori said. Toto blinked. He’d forgotten Chikori called him that, even though he was nothing of the sort. Good thing Amamiya wasn’t here or she’d be on the ground, laughing her ass off at the idea that Toto was any sort of ace in the division.
“Heh, thanks Chikori-chan,” Toto said. He wasn’t very accustomed to being praised like this, and he couldn’t help the blush that rose on his skin.
Chikori’s phone rang. “Sorry! This is my editor; I’ll be right back.” She left the apartment, speaking in journalist jargon that went way over Toto’s head.
“Oh!, Mofu-sensei, I don’t think we ever properly thanked you for your work,” Toto said, turning to the neurosurgeon.
“Of course! It’s my job. We won’t know for sure that he’s cured until circumstances appear where his illness would surface again,” Dr. Mofu said. Toto nodded. He figured this was the case. Just like with the pills Ron took before, they wouldn’t know the cure’s efficacy until it’s been field tested.
There was a ring at the door, and a man dragging a suitcase let himself in.
“Hello! I’m glad Ron’s been cured,” Spitz said by way of greeting. “Sorry, I was listening in with my bugs. Heehee, I may have installed anti-burglary devices while he was away...”
“Spitz! What’s with the suitcase?” Toto asked.
“I had to report the cruise ship incident to BLUE, and I just landed in Tokyo. I came here first, because I have good news for Ron!” Spitz held out a fancy black envelope with gold embossing. It was addressed to Ron, from the World Detective Alliance.
Sweat beaded on Ron’s face and neck, and he visibly shook. “He seems nervous. Do you mind reading it?”
Spitz acquiesced easily to Toto’s request. “This first page is a letter from Principal Emmerich: Dear Ron. I spoke with the WDA about the Bloody Training Incident. They have officially repealed your punishment, and you can get your detective license.” Spitz read from one page, then he pulled out another; this one embossed with the same golden swirls as the envelope.
“Kamonohashi Ron. We officially recognize that the charge that you committed the “Bloody Field Trip” was a false accusation. We applaud your courage and wisdom. As a special exception, we of the World Detective Alliance hereby grant you the right to take the Detective License Examination. President of the WDA, Antoine Dupain.”
Spitz folded up the two pages and handed them to Toto, who read over them, as if verifying the words to himself. “This is fantastic, Ron!” The others also cheered Ron on.
He turned in time to see Ron fall to the Floor of Sloth in dramatic fashion. His mouth opened and closed repetitively.
“Is he saying something?”
Toto approached closer. He quickly understood Ron’s meaning. He relaxed. “He says ‘This is amazing.’”
A few hours later, and there was a commotion outside their door. Ron and Toto, who were sitting on the Floor of Sloth, glanced over at each other with matching expressions of exasperation. Toto would recognize those voices anywhere.
He hurried to the door and opened it before a knock could even fall. He stifled a giggle, when he remembered that Ron had done something similar at the beginning of their partnership.
“Isshiki? What are you doing here?” Amamiya shouted, her voice echoing off the hallways. Her nose was wrinkled with derision.
“What she means to say is: shouldn’t you be home, resting?” Kawasemi translated.
Amamiya growled and forced her way inside the apartment. Kawasemi nodded calmly to Toto and followed inside.
Her anger was quelled quite quickly when she saw Ron, instead worrying about the fact that he had a bandage around his neck. “Kamoo-sama!” She cried out, quickly walking up to him to see if there were any other injuries on him. “Cannot believe that freak Moriarty could do something like this to you!”
The raven gave her a warm smile, writing out something on his whiteboard. “I actually did this myself.”
“Oh! Well…” She paused to think about how else she could blame those weirdos for hurting Ron this badly. “I hate them for forcing your hand to do this to yourself!”
Kawasemi was busy taking out a few snacks and things he bought quickly before visiting the two. “I was coming back from visiting Yamane, so I couldn't really get much of anything…”
Totomaru shook his head. “It's okay, Kawasemi-san. You didn't have to.”
“It's only right, considering you both managed to get one of the most dangerous criminals on earth, right?”
Ron interjected (physically because he was unable to do so audibly) by throwing his whiteboard in front of the two, correcting Kawasemi on his false knowledge. “We still aren't sure if he's dead yet, let's just pray he is!” It wrote, alongside a very happy smiley face he drew, while he himself was grinning ear to ear.
The brunet was a little put off by how happy he looked about wishing for someone's death, but then again, it is Moriarty they're talking about, so…
It was then Amamiya was quickly reminded of something. She stuck her hand into the bag Kawasemi was holding and pulled out a piece of cloth, unraveling it to reveal it was an apron.
There was a shape on it. “What is that? A monster? It's cute!” The young officer praised his superior.
“It's a platypus, dumbass!!” She growled.