Steve Smith swapped back to his primary SIM card. He was greeted by over fifty unread messages.
Forty of them were from Dr. Miller, ranging from frantic "Where are you?" texts to long-winded "chicken soup for the soul" inspirational quotes. One was from Officer Nathan, thanking him for the gift and telling him to stay safe.
The last one was from his "father." It contained only two words: Call me.
Steve dialed.
"Father."
"You went to Osaka?"
"Mm."
"The person I hired to pick you up has been contacted. Since you were unreachable for the last two days, I told him to wait for my signal. When do you want to be discharged?"
"The sooner, the better."
"Then get back to the hospital now. He'll be there tomorrow morning."
"Understood."
The communication was as cold and efficient as ever. Steve was satisfied; at least his little excursion hadn't delayed his release. Since he'd be out tomorrow, Hiaka could stay at the apartment for one night. Bringing a snake into a psych ward was a headache he didn't need.
Back at the apartment, Hiaka was coiled on a pillow. Snakes don't have eyelids, so it was hard to tell if he was asleep, but the total lack of movement was a dead giveaway. Steve gave him a poke.
"Hiaka. You stay here today. I'll come back for you tomorrow."
Hiaka flicked a lazy tongue, barely moving. "Got it..."
He had none of the energy he'd displayed during their heist the night before. Red-back snakes are nocturnal; during the day, they are sluggish and lazy. Steve set out some water. "I've put out water for you. Don't eat the hamsters."
"Understood..."
Steve figured the snake wouldn't "pull a Husky" and tear the couch apart, so he left without further instructions. He headed back to the hospital.
That Night. Dr. Hershel's Residence.
Jimmy Wood had been scared half to death by what Anita Hailey told him on the way over. He'd sprinted to the house, creeping in silently, playing the part of the cautious hero—only to find Dr. Hershel perfectly fine, sipping tea.
Anita walked in casually. "I'm back."
"Welcome home, Anita!" Dr. Hershel greeted her with a smile. "How was school?"
Anita walked to the table and set down her backpack. "It was... pleasant enough."
Jimmy stood there, stunned and then annoyed. "So... she was just messing with me the whole time?"
"It's your own fault for not remembering my address," Hershel chuckled. "You can't blame her for that."
"How was I supposed to know?" Jimmy retorted. "I live next door! I've never had to mail you anything, not even a holiday card..."
"Did she tell you? She's a defector from the Organization that—" Hershel stopped, slapping his forehead. "Oh! Right! The package! Anita, a delivery came for you today. I signed for it."
"For me?" Anita was puzzled.
"The address was here, and the recipient was listed as 'Anita Hailey,'" Hershel said, looking perplexed. "But we only picked that name for you yesterday. You've been at school all day, and yet a package arrives from Osaka addressed to a name that didn't exist forty-eight hours ago. I was going to wait for you to check it. If it's a mistake, we should call the sender. The number is on the manifest."
Anita took the box and examined it. "It's from Osaka. When this was sent, we hadn't even decided on the name 'Anita Hailey.' It has to be a coincidence. Maybe there's another Anita Hailey in the district?"
If it were a common name, maybe. But "Anita Hailey"? This felt intentional.
"博士 (Doc), are you seriously ignoring the elephant in the room?!" Jimmy burst out, finally reaching his limit. "She's from the Organization! The people who turned me into a child! And you're debating a shipping manifest with her?!"
Hershel settled down and filled Jimmy in on the details. Unlike the original timeline where Anita collapsed at Jimmy's door, here she had been "delivered" by two men and entered through a bit of light blackmail.
Hershel explained how she'd arrived, how she'd explained her situation, and how they'd come up with her alias together.
Anita then shared her story—the investigation into Jimmy's house, her sister's death, and her escape. "...After I fled, I had nowhere to go. My only hope was you, Jimmy Wood."
Jimmy listened with a grim expression.
"But then it rained," Anita continued. "I met that man on the street. I had a fever, and he took me back to his place to look after me for the afternoon. Afterward, I had him drop me off here. I figured since we're in the same boat, you would understand."
"Understand?!" Jimmy roared. "You invented a drug meant for murder! How am I supposed to understand you?!"
Anita flinched, staring at him with wide, hollow eyes.
"Shinichi..." Hershel tried to intervene, but Jimmy wasn't finished.
"Do you have any idea how many people that poison has hurt?!"
Anita looked away, her face returning to a cold mask. "Believe it or not, I had no choice. I never intended to create a poison."
The conversation hit a wall. It was only when Hershel brought up the possibility of an antidote that the tension eased. Eventually, they decided to drive to Professor Hirota's house in Shizuoka to retrieve a data disk that might contain the formula.
As they drove toward Shizuoka, Hershel muttered, "It's 150 kilometers to Shizuoka. Can we make it in three hours?"
"Doc..." Jimmy whispered from the passenger seat.
Hershel glanced over. "What is it?"
"Don't let your guard down around that girl," Jimmy said, eyes fixed on the road.
Hershel peeked at Anita in the back seat. "You mean Anita?"
"Yeah. She says she fled the Organization, but she won't tell us her real name or age. When I ask about her work, she dodges the question. Everything she told us could be a lie."
"I don't think so, Jimmy..."
"And that man who dropped her off," Jimmy added, rubbing his chin. "He's likely her accomplice. You said it yourself—he was a young man in black, totally expressionless. He fits the profile perfectly."
Anita, who had been pretending to ignore them, couldn't stay silent. "He isn't."
Jimmy jumped slightly, embarrassed that his "whispering" had been heard.
"If he were a member of the Organization, he would have known I was a defector by now," Anita analyzed coldly. "He knows where I am. If he were a 'hound,' he wouldn't be sitting still; he'd have raided this car or Dr. Hershel's house already. Besides... I don't think he's an enemy."
Jimmy ignored her last sentence, though he had to admit her logic was sound.
"I didn't expect a Great Detective to gossip behind people's backs," Anita said. "But then again, paranoia is a very 'detective' trait."
Jimmy felt a pang of guilt, so he leaned into the argument. "It's a reasonable suspicion! You said you didn't tell him who you were, you didn't ask about him, and you don't even know his name. Does that sound normal to you?"
"It's not normal, but it's the truth," Anita replied, unfazed.
Jimmy: "..."
A man finds a little girl in a storm, takes her home, and doesn't ask her name or where she lives? A girl gets rescued and doesn't ask the name of her savior? They spend a whole afternoon together and remain total strangers?
Who is she trying to prank?
"Ahem," Hershel cut in. "I almost forgot. We should call the person who sent that package. Jimmy, I'm driving, so I can't. Why don't you call the number on the manifest and clear it up? Anita, can you read the number for him? We can even drop it off at a courier station if it needs to be returned."
"Fine." Jimmy took the out, wanting to break the suffocating silence. He pulled out his phone.
Anita handed him the manifest and recited the number. Hershel let out a sigh of relief. He was trying his best to make the two "kids" get along.
Jimmy dialed. It rang several times before a woman answered.
"Hello? You've reached the Blue Mountain Fourth Hospital. Are you looking for Mr. Smith?"
Mr. Smith?
Jimmy didn't know who the owner of the number was, but he went into "cute child" mode. "Hi! We received a package from this number, but we think it might be a mistake..."
The woman sounded surprised. "Oh, hold on a moment, sweetie. I'll get Mr. Smith for you."
Jimmy heard the sound of footsteps on the other end.
In the hospital, Steve had just finished another round of psychological testing and was listening to Dr. Miller's latest "chicken soup" lecture when the nurse hurried in.
"Mr. Smith, there's a call for you."
Steve looked up immediately.
The nurse flinched under his violet gaze and handed over the phone. "It's a little boy. He says you sent a package to the wrong address in the Baker District..."
Steve took the phone. This is why I hate the asylum. Everything was monitored. He couldn't even take a call without a nurse hovering like he was in a glass cage.
"Hello. This is Steve Smith."
"Hi, Mr. Smith!" Jimmy's high-pitched, adorable "Conan" voice came through the line. "You sent a package from Osaka to 22, Block 2, Baker District... but I think you got the wrong house!"