Disclaimer:
This fanfic is based on Gosho Aoyama's Meitantei Konan and Magic Kaito and Naoko Takeuchi's Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon (sans the magic).
The crime in this story is inspired by a novel by Donna Leon (Death at La Fenice). However, this is not a book parody, and you won't find any spoilers for the novel in this fic (or vice versa).
The lyrics of "Charade" belong to Johnny Mercer, the script of "Charade" belongs to Stanley Donen, and the lyrics of Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical The Phantom of the Opera belong to Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe.
Thanks a lot to Astarael00 and SN 1987A, who have betaed the first chapters of this fic for me. (Rae betaed the first seven chapters (which have been merged into Chapter 1 and 2) whereas SN betaed Chapter 8-17 (now Chapter 3-10). I've learned a lot during the time they helped me, and without them, this fic would be full of typos, grammar mistakes, and long-winded sentences nobody can follow. From Chapter 18 on, the fic is unbetaed since my betas have retired.
Edit: I've merged the short chapters into longer chapters because I don't want to reupload too many chapters after editing the story for the last time.
x.
FS
x.
x. ENCOUNTER in VENICE x.
(new version)
x.
When we played our charade
We were like children posing
Playing at games
Acting out names
Guessing the parts we played
("Charade", lyrics by Johnny Mercer)
x.
Prologue
Everything must have happened before, he thinks, for everything seems curiously familiar to him. The cloudless sky, the red van which overtakes him, the children playing on the streets, the scent of Ran's perfume on the scarf around his neck, detective Takagi, who is waving at him... Everything seems vaguely familiar, even his amazement at the small figure standing in front of the gate, waiting for him.
"It must be really urgent," he says, jumping from his skateboard. "I can't remember that you've ever been waiting for me in front of the door!"
"I see you're in a splendid mood," she observes, smiling. But he can see in her eyes that something is not right.
"But you aren't," he remarks, automatically scanning her up and down to search for clues. "So what happened?"
Obviously, she has not slept well, as she looks tired and overwrought and her eyes are surrounded by dark rings. The fresh scent about her tells him that she has just had a shower. She is wearing the midnight-blue pullover he believes to be her favourite, the new pair of blue jeans Ayumi-chan's mother gave her on her tenth birthday, and the new red coat she bought last year because her favourite red-riding-hood coat had become too small for her.
It can't be a coincidence that she has taken a shower at such a time, has put on her favourite clothes, and has even polished her shoes, he thinks. Why has she been particularly fastidious about the choice of clothes tonight? If he didn't know her better, he would say she was going on a date. However, there would be no reason why she would call him and tell him to come to her "immediately" if she really intended to go on a date, not to mention that he couldn't think of anyone Haibara Ai would go out with. She was, at least physically, only ten years old. And since she was mentally twenty, he couldn't imagine that she would go out with any of the ten-year-old kids who were in love with her.
The Professor—they have grown accustomed to referring to good old Agasa-hakase as "the Professor"—has gone to a scientific meeting and won't return before tomorrow night, she informs him. That means they will have enough time to prepare for their scheme. She has also called Hattori, who is already on the way to Tokyo...
"Mr Black has called you," he says, stating the obvious. Entering the house, he wonders why everything seems wrong to him. For example, the couch in the corner of the room is supposed to be beige, not blue.
She has just shut the door behind him and is now coming towards him. And, with an impersonal sense of foreboding—impersonal in the sense that it seems to belong to another person and not to him—he realizes that he knows exactly what she is going to say.
"Kudo," she begins. "What are you going to do after taking the cure?"
It's only a dream, Shinichi realizes. He is dreaming about something that happened in the past. But he cannot remember what happened and why there is a lump in his throat, which prevents him from speaking. He is suddenly aware of the cold air coming through the window and the drizzle of rain outside the hotel while other past—or future—happenings (considering that the setting of his dream is Beika, three years ago) are flitting past him. There are the moist streets of Paris where they met Jean, the French agent of the FBI, the brilliant sky of Osaka, where they made the final preparations for their scheme, and, at last, the small isle where they found the headquarters of the Black Organization...
"I promise I'll come back in time," he can hear himself saying. And while the sun goes down, while the scenery around them keeps changing and becomes a blur as he slowly regains consciousness, she is still standing there in front of him, fixing him with her inquiring eyes, until he finally opens his eyes and her image, too, disappears with Hattori Heiji's into the impenetrable darkness of the night...
x.