Hello, there! Let me introduce myself for the people who don't quite know me! My name's Shaina but for the sake of things, I'm called Spring-san. I'm a seventeen-year-old high school senior, but school work almost never delays my writing.

I'm debating on whether or not I'm an awful person for starting something new when I haven't finished my Bleach fan fiction, Lifestyles. This story has been floating around in my head for… well… a LONG time, and I've been dying to write some ShinRan and HeiKazu! I figure that the plots are SO different that it couldn't possibly mess up either story. Speaking of plots, this is very much a mystery, hence the vague summary you've been given. I refuse to give any secrets or give-aways, so please be patient and stick around to see what's happening (I spent a lot of time ironing out the details).

Note to yourself: I'm chatty. I'll often have little notes-- okay… they're not little… but they are very unnecessary for you to have to sit through and read. Feel free to skip over them in the future. You won't be missing very much. I promise.

Loving that you've even dared to click on this story,
Spring-san

Disclaimer: Ai-chan would've already made the cure for Shinichi if I owned Detective Conan. Period.

/0/0/

Prologue- Dear…

"Ah," she started, a bit of grogginess tainting her tone, "Conan-kun?"

A small boy with old-fashioned glasses appeared from the kitchen area with a glass of some unknown liquid. Eyes half-lidded, he approached the young woman lying on the couch and handed it to her slowly, as if he was aching all over… and he probably was. His skin was abnormally red, causing him to curse his poor judgment of how much sunscreen he needed to wear. Swimming with his younger set of friends had been fun, he'd admit, but the aftermath was starting to make him regret even going.

Her deep brown hair framing her face, the girl curled her legs and propped herself up, allowing Conan enough room to recline next to her. He sat down gingerly, repressing the urge to groan at the stinging sensation all over the backside of his body. "Yes, Ran-nee-chan?"

"It's hot…"

"I know."

"I'm a… terribly naïve person," she whimpered. Ran was not at all burned from the sun like her companion, but after walking all the way to the grocery store, buying what felt like the heaviest items in the building, and walking back to her residence, heat exhaustion had definitely taken its toll on her. That summer was definitely one of the more unpleasant ones she'd lived through. Record breaking temperatures every day and humidity out the wazoo were all the citizens of Beika City could expect to wake up to. The weather channel had mentioned several times that rain and relief was on its way, but at the very last moment, the wind would change, sending the much needed water elsewhere.

With minimal effort, Conan turned to look at her. Her head was tipped unbelievably far back, elongating her neck. Skin dewy thanks to the stickiness of the air, her body almost seemed to glow, and her hair was shinier than usual. It didn't help that she was wearing orange short-shorts and a borderline-skimpy tank-top. Conan instantly regretted turning to face her, and whipped his head back around, fast enough to cause screaming pain. If it were possible, his cheeks were redder than before as he leaned back into the piece of furniture. "Why do you say that?" he murmured.

She took a sip of the drink she had been provided and deduced that it was the lemonade she had made two days prior. "I… I really should've just called the repairman, right?" Taking another sip, she rubbed the temples of her forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid me," she chided vehemently, "trusted good ol' dad after he insisted her could fix the air-conditioning himself. Now, here we are, in the middle of July, without so much as a fan! …It's hot, Conan-kun!"

"I know," he repeated in the same manner as he had before, extremely monotonously. Conan wasn't about to disagree with her about the less-than-intelligent decision she had made to let her father attempt to fix their only source of cool air. He wasn't for sure, but he guessed that it was a trivial defect that originally haunted the machine. It only took a minute and twenty-three seconds after Mouri Kogoro began fiddling with it before the entire thing to begin to smoke and eventually ignite itself. "It's too late to worry about it now, though. Here." He handed her a manila folder and she received it gently. It didn't take her long to start fanning herself furiously.

She smiled and sat up completely. Reaching out to him, she smoothed down his disheveled hair. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lazily extending her arm she grabbed the remote from the table in front of the couch. She wasn't one to watch much television, but she figured it would take her mind off of the discomforting atmosphere. As she brought it back to herself, it slipped from her hand and tumbled under the table. Mumbling incoherent words (Conan assumed she was scolding herself again) she sat her glass down on a coaster and placed her palms and knees on the floor. She ducked her head and grabbed the remote.

"Conan-kun, you can pick what we--" she stopped.

Conan leaned forward slightly. "Something wrong, Ran-nee-chan?"

"No, no. Just found a… letter."

Brow furrowing, he leaned back again and she filled her seat on the couch. "Who's it addressed to?" he asked with slight indifference.

"It's for me. I never get mail," she said with a frown. Turning it over several times, she noted the delicate way her name had been scripted on the faint pink paper, a white carnation blooming from the right-bottom corner. "Weird."

Conan sat for a while before a small smirk played on his lips. "Are you going to open it or just stare at it?"

She laughed with slight embarrassment and tore the top of it off carefully. Pinching out a fine piece of embroidered parchment, she unfolded the letter and began to read it, letting the information soak in slowly. As her eyes scrolled over the words, she involuntarily began to stroke the textured border with her thumbs. "This is so random!" she finally exclaimed, extending it to the boy. "Take a look."

He accepted it and held it relatively close to his face, taking in the words at the same pace Ran had.

Dear Mouri-san, -- It read.

On the first full week of August, I am requesting your presence at my place of residence, The Terrace, for a small get-together. Chances are that you do not know me, but truth be told, I do not know much about you myself. Nine others have been invited to attend this little gathering, and if it would suit you, I am allowing you the option of bringing three other companions. I truly wish that you will be able to come.

Conan nearly scoffed at the concluding:

Looking forward to your reservation, White Carnation,
Chiba Nozumu, Master of The Terrace

"What's white carnation mean, Ran-nee-chan?" he asked, handing the invitation back to her. "Are you familiar with this… Chiba-san?"

"Not at all…" she looked over the envelope. "… but…"

'But'?! he thought worriedly.

"… I'm considering accepting. The address says that he lives further up north… in the country even! We could get out of Beika and cool down a bit."

"A-ah!" Conan barely prevented himself from falling over. "I-it could be dangerous! I think it's a bad idea. The air conditioning should be fixed… eventually."

She nodded. "Exactly… 'eventually'. I don't want to wait. Besides," she said with an all-too-sweet smile, "you'd be there to protect me! Right, Conan-kun?"

"U-uh…"

She clapped her hands together, excitedly. Getting off the couch fast enough to make her a tad bit dizzy. Clasping her hand to her forehead she dashed out of the living room, spiting out a hurried, "Good! I'm going to call Dad!"

Conan sat for a second, massaging his face before digging in his pocket and pulling out one of his cell phones. He pressed a single button, indicating that the receiver of the phone call was on speed dial, and listened as it rang several times. In the meantime, his mind wandered over how easily Ran had accepted the invitation. Maybe the heat was going to her head after-- Someone picked up.

"…Hey, Hattori… Yeah, yeah… Hold on a second! I've got a question!… Has Kazuha received any weird letters, by chance?" Several seconds passed, and with each passing one, Conan's frown deepened. "Is that so…?"

/0/0/

I'm so ready to start getting to the really good stuff! I'm quite aware that this sounds terribly cliché' already, but the true mood of this story doesn't start until they get to The Terrace! And don't worry, my real chapters are never this short (I wouldn't be able to handle it and if you want proof, go look at any chapter of Lifestyles!). I proofread all of my work several times, but there's bound to be minor mistakes: so sorry!

Thank you for trying this out, and if you didn't like it and made it this far to see this, even more thanks and kudos to you! :D

I'll have the first chapter out to you soon! Catcha on the flipside, dearest public!