"Kisaki?"
Inspector Megure hadn't expected her to show up. When he'd gone looking for a defense lawyer, he never imagined the legendary undefeated attorney Kisaki Eri herself would walk through the door.
"Inspector Megure," Kisaki said briskly, "time is short. Please allow me to meet with the defendant privately."
"No problem," Megure replied, a hint of relief in his tone. "If you're taking the case, Satou might at least get a lighter sentence. I just didn't expect you to take something like this."
He knew Kisaki's reputation well. The "Queen of Law," undefeated in court, never touched cases where the evidence was airtight — unless there was a real chance of overturning the verdict. If she'd accepted this one, then she was breaking her own rule. She's got guts, Megure thought.
He agreed to the private meeting without hesitation. After all, Satou had been one of their own.
Inside the small room, there were no cameras, no bugs, no guards listening in. Just the lawyer and the accused.
Satou looked thinner than before. Her head hung low, her entire body slumped in defeat. She looked exactly like someone who believed she deserved punishment — a picture of guilt.
"You're supposed to be noble, aren't you?" the lawyer's voice came sharp and cold. "Didn't you turn yourself in out of righteousness? Then why that face? You should be proud, shouldn't you? You did what you thought was right — so why look so miserable?"
…Was this really something a lawyer would say? Satou frowned and raised her head, confused.
But then she froze.
The woman sitting across from her — Kisaki Eri — was doing something completely out of character: idly flicking a coin through her fingers. The coin danced between her knuckles, spinning with unnatural grace, as if it were alive.
This wasn't Kisaki.
"Who are you?" Satou's voice dropped. No one would dare impersonate that lawyer — unless they were insane.
"Ah, that hurts, you know," the stranger said in mock offense. "It's only been a few days, and you've already forgotten me? After everything I've done to clear your name, my dear Officer Satou?"
Satou's eyes widened, veins of red creeping through them. "Kaitou Kid?"
"Ding-dong! Correct — bonus points!"
The so-called Kisaki smirked, flipping the coin one last time before catching it neatly. It was indeed Kaitou Kid in disguise.
"Why are you here?" Satou asked, her tone weary and tense. "Your charges have already been cleared."
"No," Kid said lightly. "My murder charge is gone. The theft ones still stand."
Then what was he doing walking freely into the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, of all places? Satou stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
"You're insane," she muttered. "You came here disguised as a lawyer? This building is crawling with police!"
Kid shrugged, unfazed. "Now, tell me — why did you confess?" He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Do you know what you've done? You've undone all my work. Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince little Conan to lie for you?"
"I couldn't live with it forever," Satou said softly. "I couldn't keep pretending. I can't spend my whole life drowning in guilt."
"What about what your father and your first love told you?" Kid asked, his tone suddenly sharp. "Didn't you listen to them? Throwing away your entire life for a worthless criminal — is that really what they would've wanted?"
"This isn't about the bomber," Satou said. Her voice trembled, but her eyes were steady. "It's about me. I can't forgive myself. If I keep hiding the truth, I'll never have peace — not in this life."
Kid gave a faint, cynical smile. "So, are you at peace now, sitting here in a holding cell?"
No. She wasn't.
Even though she'd been ready to turn herself in, Satou was terrified. The closer her trial came, the more her courage wavered. She was afraid — afraid of the punishment, of the judgment, of what would come next.
It was like knowing you'd die one day but panicking when death actually arrived. She couldn't sleep. Every night felt heavier than the last. Maybe when the verdict was finally delivered — when everything was over — only then could she truly breathe again.
Kid sighed.
He didn't know what to do with her. As a person, Satou had admirable integrity. But as a hero, she was still far from ready. "Still," he said at last, "since I'm here, I'm not about to let you rot in prison."
"What are you planning?" Satou's tone sharpened. "Whatever it is, I'm not leaving. I won't run away."
"I know," Kid said calmly. "That's why I'm not here to break you out. Relax."
He leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk returning to his lips. "Today, I'm here as your lawyer. Starting now, I'll defend you in court."
"What?" Satou blinked. "You… you're going to defend me? You're a thief!"
Kid spread his hands. "Well, I've learned something: if you don't go through the proper channels, your conscience will never rest. So we'll do this your way — through the law."
Liu A'dou had already seen through her. The only way to truly free Satou was not to save her from prison, but to have the court itself declare her innocent. Only then could she move forward.
A thief defending a confessed killer — to prove her innocent.
A miracle if there ever was one.
As they finished their private conversation, someone called out just as "Attorney Kisaki" stepped into the corridor.
"Lawyer Kisaki!"
It was Takagi.
"Officer Takagi, is there something you need?" Kisaki asked, her tone even but curious.
"Ah, um, that..." Takagi bent sharply at a full 90-degree bow. "Please... please take care of Officer Satou's case!"
"..." Kisaki's brows furrowed slightly. "If that's how you feel, then why did you arrest Miwako in the first place?"
Takagi kept his head low. "It was my duty. I'm... truly sorry. But please, I'm begging you—help Officer Satou. I'll do whatever it takes to assist you."
Kisaki's expression turned cold. That kind of man—always pushing responsibility onto others just to keep his own conscience clean—was the kind she hated most.
"Officer Takagi, you know Satou's charges better than anyone. The confession is clear, the evidence solid, and she's already admitted her guilt. What exactly do you want me to do?"
Takagi didn't move, his back still bent. "Please... just help Miwako. No matter what, I'll cooperate fully."
Kisaki folded her arms. "If you really wanted to help, you shouldn't have arrested her in the first place." Her words came sharp as a blade. "You should know what kind of person Satou is. Something like this wouldn't happen twice. But you still chose to arrest her. So tell me—did you do it for justice, or for yourself?"
Takagi had no answer. Silence was his only reply. He didn't even know anymore.
Kisaki gave a small, cold laugh as she turned away. "Men… truly hopeless."
Kaitou Kid, still in disguise as Kisaki Eri, walked off down the hallway, every gesture mimicking her perfectly.
Takagi stood frozen in place, sweat beading on his forehead. His mind was a mess. Was I wrong? he wondered. If I'd helped her cover it up, maybe Satou wouldn't have to suffer like this. But he was a police officer. A man sworn to the law. If I broke that oath… what would that make me?
His heart warred with his duty, caught between reason and emotion. He didn't know which to listen to anymore.
Outside, the entrance of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters had already turned into chaos. A flood of reporters surged forward, cameras flashing and microphones waving in the air.
Of course, that wasn't by coincidence. Liu A'dou had anonymously tipped them off ahead of time — that the undefeated queen of the courtroom, Kisaki Eri, was taking on Satou Miwako's case.
The bait worked perfectly.
The journalists pounced like wolves. The idea that Kisaki — the famed "Queen of Law" — would accept a case destined to fail sent shockwaves through the legal world. Was there more to this story? Was the case not as clear-cut as it seemed?
The bomber's shooting had been one of the hottest stories in months. Now, with Kisaki stepping in to defend the accused police officer, the media frenzy doubled overnight.
Reporters thrived on chaos, and the moment they got the call, they swarmed the scene.
Perfect. That was exactly what Liu A'dou wanted.
What mattered most now wasn't the courtroom yet — it was public opinion. If the tide of sentiment stayed one-sided, no amount of evidence would help. To overturn a verdict, you had to win both the law and the crowd.
It wouldn't be easy, and A'dou knew it.
He stood there calmly, still wearing Kisaki's face, and brushed past the microphones. "No comment," he said simply. The show had to be convincing from start to finish.
"Attorney Kisaki! Could you share your opinion on this case? Is there more to it than meets the eye?"
Kisaki paused mid-step, then turned slightly toward the cameras. "Regarding the details of the case," she said coolly, "no comment. However, I will say this — this may well be the most mysterious and complex case we've seen since the start of the 21st century."
"Why do you say that?" one reporter shouted.
Kisaki's lips curved into a faint smile. "If you knew the defendant personally," she replied, "you'd understand exactly what I mean."
The message was clear — investigate her.
And if the media couldn't dig up what they needed, Liu A'dou already had a dossier ready to deliver to every major outlet in Tokyo. He was going to make sure the public saw Satou Miwako for who she really was — a dedicated, brave officer, not a criminal.
Once the narrative shifted, the courtroom would follow.
In this battle, even magic or gadgets wouldn't save Kaitou Kid. This fight would be decided by preparation, persuasion, and pure skill — a trial where words, not tricks, would decide victory.