Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.
In Front of You
By Taliya
She flipped through the stack of glossy photos, her heart aching as she took in the pair of faces that alternately smiled, laughed, and pouted. The two people in the pictures had started off at five years of age, ranging from playing on the playground to partaking in their first karate tournament. Eventually the two's interests diverged, with one continuing karate while the other began playing soccer, the pair growing until the last set of pictures were taken when they were sixteen. The final few pictures had been taken in Tropical Land. She had tugged him into a purikura booth and he had protested with great reluctance but had obliged, as it had been a celebration of her win at the Metropolitan Karate Championships. The series of pictures had first started with him sulking, but by the end he had been laughing and making silly faces with her for the camera.
And then she had lost him. He had disappeared that evening with the promise that he would return, except that he never did. At first she had been rather upset, but when he failed to answer her phone calls her disquiet turned into worry, which led her to seeking him out in his house. But she had not found him. Instead of finding Kudou Shinichi, her best friend of at least ten years, she had found a six-year-old by the name of Edogawa Conan, who looked disconcertingly like her best friend at that age. Shinichi's next-door neighbor Agasa Hiroshi had convinced her to take him home with her temporarily, as his parents had apparently dropped him off at the Kudou home expecting Shinichi to take care of the boy; with Shinichi's disappearance it was readily apparent that the responsibility fell to her. She had initially been extremely suspicious of young Conan, for not only was his appearance uncannily similar, but he was intelligent—extremely so. If she were to name it, she would call Conan a genius—a prodigy… just like Shinichi.
She stared at the final picture of them, which she had framed and had placed on her desk: the pair of them hamming it up for the camera, the both of them standing before the castle in Dream and Fantasy Land making two-fingered, V-shaped peace signs. Her fingers reached out and touched Shinichi's face, and she felt an intense longing to see him again. How long had it been since she had seen his face? The last time had been in London during that strange Sherlock Holmes case, which had been well over five years ago. She was now twenty-two years old, nearly finished with her last year in Touto University. She had dated on and off during her time at university, but those relationships had never lasted long. There had only ever been one person that truly dwelt in her heart, and she had, over the years, tried and failed to move past him despite the fact that he failed to materialize before her.
Shinichi's phone calls had been constant, if sporadic, over the years. Each time they talked, she had felt a mix of longing and relief, amongst a plethora of other emotions. She had often wondered what exactly he was up against with his life-consuming case, since he was unable to see her and unable to tell her. She set the picture back on her desk, eyes roving over the items in her room above the Mouri Detective Agency. The room reflected her high school personality, revealing a teenager with childish hopes and dreams as evidenced by the color palette she had decorated her room with, along with the small trinkets that she had used for decoration. She smiled and shook her head, exiting her room to begin the preparations for tomorrow.
Conan, now twelve, was as precocious as ever. Ran smiled as she thought of the young boy she considered her adoptive younger brother. A devoted Sherlock Holmes fan, he was always getting into trouble, though to be fair she was sure he did not actively seek out the corpses that were a result of murders. Rather, people tended to drop dead around him, and more than once she had contemplated taking him to an exorcist or a priest to try to help him get rid of his undeniable streak of terrible luck. He had left this morning to play with his friends Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, Genta, and Ai. The five of them called themselves the Shounen Tantei-dan—no doubt due to Conan's influence. He had promised to be back in time to help with the New Year preparations, and as she glanced at the clock she figured he would return soon. As it was, she was glad that he had helped out with the new year's cleaning of both the apartment and the agency office; her father—the lazy man that he was, had not bothered to help.
Tomorrow was New Year's Day, and she had all the way up to January third off from school. She had already purchased several large juubaku of osechi-ryouri, and was planning on making ozouni and kagami mochi that afternoon in preparation for the holiday. She stepped into the kitchen, checking the rice in the rice cooker. The texture was ready to begin making mochi, so she left the lid of the rice cooker open, allowing the steam to escape the container and allowing the rice to cool.
"I'm home!" a voice called, and Ran smiled at Conan's boyish voice.
"Welcome back!" she called back. "How was your morning, Conan-kun?"
"Good, Ran-nee-cha—an," Conan squeaked, flushing in embarrassment as his voice cracked. Ran laughed at the face he made. "It's not funny," he griped, pouting.
"Sorry, Conan-kun," she apologized with a chuckle. "But the face you made was just—" Her voice trailed off with a giggle. "It's just that you remind me of Shinichi when he was your age." The last of her laughter died away, which was now tinged with sadness. Shaking off her melancholy with the ease of experience, she glanced at the youth, who had a slightly sorrowful air about him. She often wondered what went through that massive brain of his, what he thought about whenever she caught that look of suppressed melancholy in his eyes. It was an expression that she had seen much too frequently on him, and one that was ill-suited to a face his age. "Help me with the mochi?" she asked, injecting enthusiasm and cheer into her voice. Conan stared at her for a moment with unreadable eyes before he grinned and nodded.
The two spent the rest of the afternoon making mochi and decorating the rounded balls of sticky rice into kagami mochi, which would then be placed over a small square of paper on a specialized stand. Ran normally placed the small, makeshift decorated alcove in their home. Once those were finished and the two were covered to their elbows in rice flour, Ran proceeded to make the traditional soba for the New Year's Eve dinner. After dinner was over and cleaned up, the three—Ran, Conan, and Kogoro—would head out to one of the neighboring Buddhist temples to watch the Joya no Kane ceremony in which the temple bell would be rung one hundred eight times, the last of which would fall on the stroke of midnight to welcome the new year. The number of times the bell was rung symbolized a number of things, the most commonly believed being that there were one hundred eight worldly desires that one could be cleansed of that caused human suffering.
From there they would travel to a Shinto shrine for hatsumode, or the first New Year's shrine visit. Ran planned to obtain a hamaya to bring back. Again, she considered bringing home an extra one just for her surrogate younger brother. She felt he had evil spirits chasing him everywhere he went, which, considering his track record was probably not too far off the mark.
The family left their home at around ten, intending to get to the temple grounds a little early so they could partake in the New Year's festivities. Ran checked to make sure Conan was dressed properly, as they would be outdoors for several hours, and was pleased to see the youth bundled in a down coat complete with scarf, hat, ear warmers, and gloves. Despite the fact that New Year's was a time to wear more traditional outfits, Ran did not have someone to help her tie her obi, and so she too had opted for Western attire. Her father had been too lazy to bother, and they did not have enough money to purchase a winter kimono for Conan—Ran was sure the money sent by Edogawa Fumiyo had probably been spent on her father's pachinko habit. They headed out, Kogoro already thinking about the food and drink served at the festival stands while Ran and Conan watched the elder detective with exasperated glares.
"So, Conan-kun, what do you think your omikuji will predict?" she asked as they made their way to the shrine.
Conan glanced up at her, and she once again was hit with the sense of deep wistfulness and longing in his gaze, despite the fact that he was smiling. "I just want it to tell me that my wish for the ones I love to be safe and happy will hold," he answered softly, his melancholy blue eyes sliding away to focus on the street before them.
Ran stared at her surrogate brother, caught completely off guard by his thoughtful wish. "Conan-kun…" she whispered, suddenly feeling immensely saddened on the boy's behalf.
"What about you, Ran-nee-chan?" he asked.
The college student smiled and said with a laugh, "I hope it tells me I have better luck in love this year since I can't help waiting for a certain someone."
Ran laughed sardonically at herself, unaware that Conan's expression had fallen upon hearing her wish.
Conan sighed as they lined up to purchase omamori. Kogoro had disappeared somewhere, most likely in hot pursuit of food and the sake served with edible gold flakes. Ran stood next to him, stamping her feet to ward off the cold. The trio had already obtained their omikuji, and Conan's, despite his hopes, had foretold nothing pleasant in the coming year. And so he had tied his onto a tree, hoping that he would have a little more luck this coming year.
Another year had passed. Another year he failed to regain his older body. Another year he had failed to catch the Gin and Vodka. Another year he had failed to bring the Black Organization to light. Another year of failures, one more to add to the four already tallied against him.
The youth stared down at his sneakered feet, wondering if this was to be the rest of his life. Twelve-year-old Edogawa Conan was, in reality, a poison-shrunken twenty-two-year-old Kudou Shinichi, best friend of Mouri Ran, and a deductive genius. Yet it had been his innate curiosity that had landed him in his current circumstances. The only people who knew of his situation, besides his parents, were his neighbor, Agasa Hiroshi and his fellow poison-shrunken scientist friend Haibara Ai, who had in a previous life worked for the men who had dosed him—who had been the creator of the poison. In addition, there was Vermouth, an assassin for said Organization, and Kaitou KID, an internationally-wanted jewel thief. The latter two, for reasons of their own, had failed to disclose to others his secret, and for that, Conan was grateful.
His parents, Kudou Yuusaku and Kudou Yukiko—a best-selling mystery author and a retired actress, respectively—had opened up a college and trust fund under the name Edogawa Conan a few years back. And Haibara, despite her tireless work in attempting to formulate an antidote, had begun hinting that it might just be easier to grow up again.
Conan could see her point, much as he hated to admit. Kudou Shinichi had lost six years of his life to Edogawa Conan—were he to step back into his former life, could he honestly do it? Could he step into the life of an adult straight from a life where his largest problem (in theory and discounting the near-daily murders he encountered) was whether or not his classmate Yoshida Ayumi had worked up enough courage to ask him out? The more he thought about it, the more he believed that a smooth transition back into his old life was further and further out of his reach.
It meant that Ran was out of his reach. Conan's eyes slid upwards to peer at the young woman who had become a sister and mother figure to him as Conan. She had tried dating over the course of her college life, he knew. She had told him. But she had also confided in him how much she missed Shinichi, and how desperately she wished he would just come home.
I'm right here, he wanted to say, I've been here all this time, Ran. Yet fear forced him to hold his tongue, lest he bring the love of his life under the crosshairs of the Black Organization, along with her family and his friends. It was a risk he could not, would not, take. And so he made her cry during each of their phone calls, and every time he could only speak into the voice-changing bowtie and feel utter loathing for himself. He had, over the years, encouraged her to date other people regardless of the fact that his heart cried and bled whenever he mentioned it. Yet he knew that allowing her the opportunity to move on was best for her, that he could not keep her waiting.
Not when the chances of an antidote grew dimmer and dimmer with time.
Ran finally managed to purchase a hamaya and two omamori for both herself and Conan. "Yours is yaku-yoke," she explained as she handed the small silk brocade pouch to him, and he could have nearly cried at the irony. If only.
"Thank you, Ran-nee-chan," he murmured, pasting a smile on his face. "I'll hang it on my phone."
The karate champion smiled indulgently. "I hope it helps," she answered, then held out her hand for his in preparation for the search for her father. Conan grasped her fingers, desperately wishing that he could do the same, only under different circumstances.
Ran, he thought as she wove through the crowds, occasionally calling for her father, I don't want you to wait for me, but—I love you, Ran. And I'm so sorry.
Author's Note: So… yeah… super angsty, only this time it's Shinichi and Ran. The picture I was referring to is shown during Closing 19 of episodes 350-75. And yes, Shinichi's hit puberty—again—I know, I'm evil. So. Much. Research. On New Year's traditions. Osechi-ryouri are large bento boxes with traditional foods packed within and bought in multiple so that there is no need for cooking for several days. Ozouni is a soup that contains mochi, and kagami mochi is made as a New Year decoration. Hamaya are sacred arrows meant to ward off demons. Omamori are good luck charms, and omikuji are fortunes predicting one's luck in certain aspects of life. Yaku-yoke is an omamori blessed specifically for avoidance of evil. I hope you enjoyed it.
Completed: 31.12.2105
