invisible signal

up to the distance.

He had expected the signal to come from a high-rise building, or some museum with a special exhibit.

It seems that Mr. Thief doesn't plan to work today.

As if driven by something, Kudo ran forward without stopping.

Very close.

Very close.

He seemed to be able to find the location of the signal without the guidance of the tracking glasses.

As if this is not the first time he has run this distance.

Kudo felt that he was not running forward, but running into a memory.

Every corner of this road and every section of the low wall has slight changes from the past, and it makes people feel that nothing has actually changed.

He felt that he was just rushing to join the routine assembly of the detective team.

As the team leader, you can't be late.

Guided by memory and tracking glasses, Kudo ran to a clearing.

He expected to see a gorgeous and high-profile phantom thief waiting nearby condescendingly, but what appeared in front of him was only a boy in a high school uniform.

Just standing there normally.

"Detective."

It was just a sentence, a title, without having to identify the voice or anything else, Kudo intuitively and instinctively believed that it was him.

After the breath recovered, Kudo remembered to take a closer look at what was written in the so-called notice letter.

Except for the graffiti on the front, it was blank.

Like a child messing with a slip of paper stuffed into a mailbox.

"So," Kudo shook the notice letter in his hand amusedly, "a prank?"

"Of course." The boy in front of him admitted without hesitation.

"Thank you for the information you left." The polite words.

"To each other," the young man accepted the detective's thank you carelessly, "in this way, it will be considered that the detective team has made a contribution."

"Detective team..." Kudo selectively ignored the word. "How...how did you get out?"

"It's a very untechnical question, my name detective," the boy said playfully, "Then let me ask you, how did Sherlock Holmes return from the Reichenbach Falls?"

"...it's written in the book."

"Do you believe it?"

"..."

"So, no matter which plan I tell you, you have to believe it, don't you?"

What a "smart" analogy.Kudo laughed.

"So, the next question," Kudo said, taking out the badge that was still making a sound, "Where did you get that badge?"

It's impossible to go back to the site that has become a restricted area to dig it back.

The boy tilted his head with a playful smile: "It is said that it came from your house, do you believe it?"

Subconsciously wanting to refute, Kudo swallowed back the questioning words.He raised the corner of his mouth knowingly, "Ah, I believe it."

It seemed that the shirt by the bed was not the only thing that was taken away that night.

"Oh, that's right," the boy clapped his hands, and a paper bag appeared out of thin air in his hand, "Thank you for the detective's shirt," he handed the paper bag to Kudo, "Thank you for staying that night."

His tone was as relaxed as if he said "go to your house to play games this weekend".

That's all?

"You..." Seemingly unable to communicate normally without the badge, Kudo habitually groped for the badge with his fingertips, "Are you here... to return the clothes?"

Very convincing reason.

Very logical statement.

However, I always feel like I'm forgetting something.

"No." Short monotone.

"Today I'm here to fulfill the promise."

"Perhaps you already remember it, maybe?"

With his hands behind his back, the young man took a few steps back and stood in a solemn posture.

"Please remember, detective," he said slowly.

"My name is Kaito Kuroba."

Names are very important things.

The moment we name our names, we bear the burden of exposing our identity and everything connected with it to a stranger.With the name as the first, the inextricable strands of life will be drawn.

Kuroba Kaito.

Kuroba Kaito.

Kudo repeated the name silently.

He felt that something in his memory was trying to break through the barriers of his mind, trying to make himself known to the world.

He weighed his words in response.

"I ask for your advice in the future." Kuroba stretched out his hand, "As a young detective team."

Kudo stared blankly at the hand stretched out in front of him, but didn't move.

"The detective team has been disbanded." He stated the facts.

"That's it." Hei Yu didn't intend to withdraw his hand, "If there are only two people, you can still form a 'Detective Team', okay?"

"Or," he suggested invitingly, "as a companion?"

The battle is far from over.

"Is it okay to just reveal your identity?" Kudo stepped forward, "Mr. Thief?"

Calling each other is the first step in a relationship, and reporting your name is also a meaningful move.

"How could that be?" Kuroba said completely indifferent. "Reporting the names is just for the convenience of calling each other."

He took the initiative to hold the detective's right hand, which was still in mid-air, and smiled brightly.

"Did you say, Gong, Teng, Sang?"

Kudo... Sang?

Regarding this new appellation, Kudo suddenly felt that those lost images were quickly reversed in a vivid way.

He remembered those funny childish tasks.

He remembered the laughter carried by the little badge.

He remembered the awkward little boy who was always unwilling to obey orders and always stubbornly called himself "Kudou-san".

It turned out to be the case.

It turned out to be the case.

Meeting the other party's smiling eyes, Kudo couldn't help but tighten his hand and clenched it tighter.

The corners of his mouth gradually found the most familiar arc.

Belongs to the detective, belongs to Kudo Shinichi, arrogant and confident smile.

"You still don't want to call me by my name..."

The tightly clenched hands loosened slightly.

"Quick fight?"

TrueEnd

END

The author has something to say:

postscript:

Even if it is pretending, I want to write an afterword pretentiously.

I am ashamed to say that this is the first completed work of my generation that can be marked as END in a serious way except for short stories.There can be many ideas, and even if the inspiration is fleeting, there will always be new plots and new ideas constantly appearing in the mind.

What is more difficult than generating inspiration is catching it and sticking to it.

I'm sorry that this clumsy work, which can be completed within a month if the daily update rhythm is maintained, has dragged everyone on for so long.When the structure of the whole article was roughly formed, I myself did not believe that I could finally tell this story to the end step by step.In fact, in the process of writing, there were several times when I felt that the pit was being dug deeper and deeper, and even myself would be buried in it.After all, lifeline-style dialogue is one style in the game, but another style in text.

Those of us who had a feverish brain and started writing willfully without seriously proving whether it is reasonable to write like this are really crazy.

Thank you for reading.

Thanks for your responses.

In fact, with my slightly selfish writing style and my habit of playing tricks regardless of timing, it is difficult for the works I can create to be loved by everyone. Criticisms such as "your writing is too niche" are often heard.However, I still want to write it down.

Difficult to reach.

It is impossible to please everyone.

It is impossible to please everyone.

Isn't the most fundamental starting point of our writing to please ourselves?

It was with the idea of ​​"wanting to see what happened next" that my generation, who had always been lacking in action, ushered in the experience of telling the story for the first time.

There is reluctance and unwillingness.I often lie on the bed and read my own words until the middle of the night, as if I was reading something written by another person.

I always feel like I can write better.

However, the moment I hit [END], I still couldn't help but feel that it's great that I can persevere.

Thanks for reading this far.

In the future, if we go crazy and play new tricks again, please forgive me (laughs)

[Ordinary extras] Missing childhood

Note before reading:

The long-overdue extra chapter of "Invisible Signal" is finally here!Do you remember the original plot? (I feel a little sorry for myself

The theme of this article comes from a conversation with a friend before going abroad.Faced with the confusion that my generation stated that I could not stick to everything I was addicted to, my friend who majored in social direction asked this sentence:

"Don't you think your current state is a kind of compensation for childhood shortcomings?"

Instantly enlightened.

"Childhood loss" can indeed be used to explain many things, and I hope that this time the story can also explain some new things.

Happy eating.

-Missing Childhood-

After drawing up a realistic goal and confirming that the direction is correct, set off without distraction.No matter what kind of scenery you see along the way, your progress will never stop.

The growth trajectory of those who have pursuit is roughly the same.

However, this highly purposeful action may not be based on a strong sense of mission.No one wants to save the world on a whim, and those so-called civilian heroes have already shed blood that is unwilling to be ordinary.The reality that passes by every minute and every second is just the result of the accumulation of thousands of past seconds. Is it just some unfulfilled obsession that really pushes people forward?

Because of the regrets left in childhood, many people may spend their whole lives trying to fill the gaps that could not be healed during the period when the endurance was too weak.Sometimes even I may forget the purpose of action, but the obsession in the subconscious is engraved into every cell in this way, making people unable to turn back before they know it.

Kudo Shinichi never recognized