A/N: Well... I really don't know what you'll think. This was originally meant to be a one-shot, however it insisted for more screen time... so, the second/last part will probably be posted sometime next week or so? In the meantime, please do tell me what you think. This fic hasn't been betaed, and it's written in present tense, so there may be grammatical errors or tense irregularities or parts that don't make sense and so on...
'La dolce vita' is Italian, and it means 'The sweet life'. The phrase was made famous as the title of a 1960 comedy-drama film directed by Federico Fellini, and it is about a journalist's search for love and happiness...
Anyway, enjoy!
SUMMARY: An unpleasant anniversary, pasta for two, a sudden disappearance, a flawed sense of justice. She cannot forget her sister, and he cannot forget about her. Maybe someday… [ConanAi/ShinichiShiho]
LA DOLCE VITA
© All rights belong to Gosho Aoyama, the creator of Meitantei Konan / Detective Conan / Case Closed.
kashirsky does not own anything.
PART I
THOSE SAD, BLUE EYES
EDOGAWA Conan is a detective.
It is his job to be observant, however he did not need to be a detective – only a good friend – to know that Haibara Ai is acting strangely.
Oh – not the usual strange for him as a detective; he doesn't think that she will commit a murder or rob a bank anytime soon – but something is definitely bothering her. He can see it in the way her posture is slightly too straight, almost rigid; the way her eyes are dull and faraway and darkened to a cobalt blue; the way her gaze is somewhat lowered, and has been for the whole day; and the way her hand is tucked into the pocket of her coat, not to protect it from the cold, but to hold something tightly.
And he definitely notices it when he touches her lightly on the shoulder to rouse her from her apparent daydream, and uncharacteristically, she instantly freezes and jumps back. Her eyes widen, terrified, and she gasps – no, hisses – even as she looks up and registers his concerned expression, "Don't touch me!"
Stupefied, he steps back, holding his hands up. "Hey…" he begins awkwardly, as Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko turn around from the path ahead, startled at the shout. Ai smiles, a small (ingenuine) smile which doesn't reach her eyes.
"Don't worry," she says soothingly, turning towards the Detective Boys. "I just remembered that Hakase is sick today, so I need to go home and look after him."
"Oh," Ayumi says, eyes full of worry. "Maybe we should all go to visit Hakase! We can cheer him up! It's winter holidays so we don't have to leave early!" Mitsuhiko nods earnestly in agreement and Genta makes an approving sound through a mouthful of cake.
"No," Ai smiles gently. "Hakase will be tired, and having a group of unruly kids over won't be beneficial to his health…"
"Oh, I didn't think of that." Ayumi frowns, voice repentant. She shows no sign of offence at being labelled an 'unruly kid'.
"Well, goodbye then," Ai responds, eyes kind.
The smile falls from her face when she turns around. She's halfway down the street when she abruptly stops, and a certain detective walks straight into her.
"Ghosting me isn't funny, Kudo-kun," she says flatly, turning around to glare at the miniature detective sprawled on the ground. "The detective agency isn't in this direction. What are you doing?"
"Well," Conan scrambles up ungracefully, "I know Hakase isn't sick. He's not even in Tokyo, is he? He flew to Osaka this morning for one of his science-y conference things."
"Oh, is that so," Ai replies airily, unconcerned about her earlier lie. "Well, you've already solved a mystery. Your ego has been fed for the day. Go home."
"You've been acting really weird today, Haibara," he says bluntly.
"Oh, have I now?" Ai turns around without another word, continues on her way.
"You have," Conan confirms unnecessarily, following the strawberry-blonde. He falls into step beside her. "What's wrong? You can talk to me about it."
"Leave me alone," Ai says coolly, without a glance at him.
He notices that the hand in her pocket tightens, and he frowns. He decides to state the obvious.
"It's got something to do with the thing you're holding in your pocket, right?"
Ai pauses. She turns around, looks at him in the eyes (he notes that her eyes are blue, icy blue, flashing with fire – and he laughs internally at his lame, contradicting mental metaphors).
"Leave. Me. Alone," Ai spits out, and opens the gate to the Agasa mansion. She begins to slide it closed behind her but Conan's hand flies out and stops the motion. She turns around, glares at him yet again.
"I'm sorry," he says, apologetically. "I can't. I'm a detective, and I don't like mysteries." Ai harrumphs and mutters something about "useless, idiotic detectives". She unlocks the front door, leaving it open behind her.
Conan smiles widely, and follows her in.
It is now twilight, he notes, and he reassures himself that by the end of the night, he will have figured out what has been troubling Haibara today.
He is surprised when he finds her in the kitchen.
"Are you okay?" he dares to ask.
"Yes."
"Really?"
"No," Ai responds flatly.
Searching through the fridge and pantry, she tosses out various ingredients – a box of small, shell-shaped pasta, broccoli, cloves of garlic, packet of grated cheese, and so on – and Conan frowns in confusion. Cooking was Haibara's method for stress relief? Well, who knew, he reflects. He thinks he would know the shrunken scientist well enough by now, but she surprises him so often.
It is only when the house is filled with a rich, delicious smell that Ai breaks the silence.
"Orecchiette," she says, as a way of explanation, "for two." At this, she looks at Conan, almost curiously. Then, she shakes her head as if to rid herself of her thoughts. She looks away, continues. "It means 'little ears' in Italian, because that's what the pasta looks like. Nee-chan thought it was cute. This was her favourite recipe."
She is proud that her voice does not waver.
"Oh… I'm sorry…" Conan doesn't really know what to say.
"Well, now that you know why I suddenly took up cooking, you can wipe the surprised look off your face and go back to the detective agency. It's about dinnertime," she looks outside at the last, feeble rays of sunlight, "and Mouri-san will be missing you."
"Hey, you know what?" Conan smiles nervously. "I think I'll be staying here instead. I don't think you should be alone tonight."
"Why ever not?" Ai's strangely innocent voice is light, casual, too casual, and Conan's suspicions are confirmed, and yet, he hates to admit, he still does not understand.
"Well, I don't know, exactly," he begins uncertainly, and at this, Ai gives an unladylike snort which sounds suspiciously like she was choking – nah, can't be. "But I feel like you might do something stupid tonight."
"A psychic detective, hmm?" Ai murmurs absentmindedly, placing a piece of pasta in her mouth to check if it was al dente. Satisfied, she switches off the stove and turns back to the detective, crossing her arms defensively. "Why tonight?" she challenges.
"I don't know," Conan growls, frustrated, and he can't help but notice Ai's eyes dimming slightly. Hastily, he adds, adding a cheeky smile for good measure, "You said the recipe is for two, right? Well, I'll stay to help you finish it off. We can't have you getting fat, can we?"
Ai blinks. "I don't get fat," she enunciates slowly, eyes furrowed into a glare, the strongest yet that she had sent his way today.
But she doesn't protest as Conan sets the table for two.
"THAT was delicious," Conan says, and Ai doesn't even look at him.
"Of course," she says simply, matter-of-fact, with no trace of arrogance. She holds out her hand for his bowl and cutlery and washes it, standing on a chair by the sink. Beside her, Conan rinses the dishes and wipes them dry.
"Well, you've sampled my cooking. You can go now." Bluntly, Ai suddenly speaks up. The calming sound of running water abruptly stops as she turns off the tap.
"… nah, I think I'll stay for a bit longer." Conan watches Ai carefully for any sign or reaction, but she just shrugs.
"Suit yourself," she says carelessly, and makes her way to her lab.
Conan finds a Sherlock Holmes book – The Hound of the Baskervilles – that he left on the couch in the living room on his last visit, and retrieving it, he follows the strawberry-blonde on her way.
He idly wonders whether she'll murder him or kick him out for infringing onto her territory, but, she is already furiously typing away on her computer, and her tired sigh is the only recognition he receives as he pokes his head through the doorway.
Shrugging, he looks around the dark room for a place to sit, preferably near the scientist because he still needs to figure out why she is acting so strangely, and finally, he sits down on the floor, leaning against her desk.
He opens his book, turns the pages idly, but the words do not make their way to his mind. He is lost in his thinking, until Ai's coat suddenly falls to the ground.
Blinking himself out of his reverie, his eyes brighten.
The pocket, he thinks as he reaches out to pick it up. The thing that's in there – Haibara has been cooking, she hasn't had a chance to hide it away yet, so –
His train of thought was brusquely cut off by the sharp voice of Ai. "Don't," she says, not looking from the computer. The simple word freezes him in his tracks, his arm still outstretched towards the pale, cream-coloured coat. "You're thinking about what is in my pocket, right? Well, whatever it is, you don't want to know."
"Why not?" he asks.
After a few moments, she finally turns her face towards him, and her eyes were suddenly sad, so sad – why do they look somewhat familiar? – and he is so confused, he wants to hug her, touch her but he remembers when she jumped back from him earlier today and he just wishes that he knew her better so he'd understand –
"You still don't get it, do you?" Ai remarks finally, voice quiet. She is watching him, watching his internal struggle with bemusement and a kind of sadness.
She reaches down, picks her coat up, brushes it off. Then she offers the pocket to Conan, a self-mocking smile on her face. "Well, it's a mystery that even you couldn't solve, after all…"
His eyes widen in confusion, he looks at her, then hesitantly reaches in – and draws out a small, crumpled ball of paper.
It is from a newspaper, neatly and carefully clipped, and with a shock, he recognises himself in the photograph beside the article. Himself, Ran hugging tightly him from behind, and in front, a dead body, of…
"Hirota Masa – " he starts to whisper but he cuts himself off.
Those familiar sad eyes – that had been Haibara's sister he had been remembering before, just before she died. Miyano Akemi... With a feeling of dread, he looks at the date of the article, just to make sure. Oh, he thinks, oh.
Hirota Masami – no, Miyano Akemi had died this day, last year… he feels horrible, he feels insensitive, he feels blindsided, he feels guilty...
"I'm sorry," he mutters awkwardly.
"Do you get it now?" Ai's voice is deadly quiet, and he flinches as though she had screamed. Ai stares directly at him. Her gaze in unwavering, and he finds that he can't look away.
"You think that because you're a detective, you have the right to pry into other people's business, find out all their secrets, and rip them apart." Her voice is quiet but her words are sharp, harsh. "Do you think about the consequences of your actions? Well, you don't have to be there for them, so I don't see why you will.
"You call it justice, but admit it, you feel a sense of achievement when you unravel every new mystery, don't you? Is that what I am to you? Is that what Nee-chan was to you?"
"No, I – " his attempts to defend himself were cut off promptly.
"All she was to you was some bank robber." Ai pronounces her words clearly, coldly. "All I am to you is your antidote. Well, our impasse will end soon; you don't have to wait for much longer." She smiles, a mocking, self-deprecating smile that does not reach her eyes. "I'm close, so close to working out the formula. I'm actually rather disappointed in myself for taking so long. But producing it won't take much time at all – so I estimate that in about a week, give or take a few days, Kudo Shinichi will be back."
She says his real name with mild derision, and he winces as if slapped.
"And you, what will you do?" he asks tentatively, not sure if she'll rip his head off, but curious of her own plans for her future.
The soft luminosity of the computer screen highlights Ai's Western blue eyes, and she looks both foreign and familiar at the same time. The pale, blue glow gives her an otherworldly look; faraway, untouchable.
"Italy," Ai says, a beatific smile suddenly lines her face, the transformation so quick that Conan wonders if she might be hysterical. "That's where I'll go. La dolce vita, you know, and those quaint little sea-side towns… I've always wanted to go, but I couldn't just ignore someone suffering because of APTX." She gestures to his diminutive form as a way of explanation. "I have no ties in Italy, so Hakase and the Detective Boys won't be in danger when the Organisation finds me.
"Also, Nee-chan loved it there, you know."
As sudden as it had come, the radiance dissolves from her eyes, and she turns back to her computer. Her intermittent typing starts up again, and the conversation abruptly ends, as suddenly as it had begun.
Staring in shock at Ai's uncharacteristic outburst, Conan doesn't know what to say. He quietly walks out of the lab, looks back at the strawberry-blonde who shows no response, and he feels displaced, lost.
'What went wrong?' he wonders, and all he can think about are those sad, blue eyes.
TBC.
A/N: Okay. I have no excuse or explanation for this; there will not be any important historical significance or mind-blowing links from Italy to this story, so please don't expect it, I'm not that smart, despite periodically reading about murders and how to commit them...
Thoughts, opinions, rants...? Give it to me, hard. ;)
