Disclaimers

Detective Conan © Gosho Aoyama

Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto


In another world, Kudo Shinichi would have been happy.

He would still be obsessed to mystery as he is, waltzing around the crime scenes and exposing the truth for the world to see. His dream was to be a detective—and be a brilliant detective he would. His tactical mind was one that was hailed as genius by society standard. He would love football, read mystery novels as a hobby, and never shut up about his fictional idol Sherlock Holmes. Ran would be very exasperated about that, and Sonoko even more so. But most importantly, even though death is always following him like a loyal puppy, he would also have a lot of chances in bring the wrongdoers—murderers and lesser criminals alike—to justice. He would live up to his own ideal about justice and preserving lives, and ultimately, content with that life.

That Kudo Shinichi was one universe away from this place.

Here, though, he led a jarringly different story.

.

.

.

A rustle of leaves was heard before two blurring figures could be seen zipping around the shadow of the trees. One was a man, the other was a boy—barely old enough to be considered a teenager. They were exchanging blows after blows, jutsu after jutsu, kunai after kunai. The boy was desperately trying to keep up with his opponent, despite battered body and left arm oozing blood from a nasty wound. He gritted his teeth. Suddenly his foot slipped, and fall he did. The scene was followed by a clang of metal, a slip of hand, and one lucky kunai pointed straight at his heart. It connected with a thunk—to a stray log. The boy was gone.

The man didn't get a time to blink when the smell of fresh blood pemeating the air. Sudden pain bloomed from the center of his abdomen, just as the branch under his foot revealed itself to be the boy he fought. A kunai sliced through his achilles heels. His legs gave in. The boy used that chance to give the man one last desperate kick. The man hit the earth with a snarl and painful crack, while he propelled upwards, once again hidden in the leaves. Fitting, I suppose, for he was a Konoha ninja. He took a last glance to the ground below. The gurgle from the man's throat a moment later sounded so final—marking the end of his precious life.

From a branch of a tree, the boy watched the morbid scene of his own doing, trying not to sway on his legs as he try to draw a ragged breath. His heart was thundering on his ribcage, his thoughts racing as the reality of the situation sank in. At a time like this... where is sensei?

...and what happened to his team?

All of this felt surreal. It only took a mission goes wrong, and...

"I—I did that...?"

The boy only got silence as the answer.

Kudo Shinichi gripped a bloodied kunai on his hand with equal parts of disgust and regret. He was an enemy. It was okay in a situation where it's kill or to be killed. Get a grip, Kudo. He deserve—Shinichi choked at his own breath. Who was he kidding. As if he could accept that as an excuse.

(There is nothing okay about taking a human life.)

That was his first kill.


AN: Can you imagine Shinichi being a ninja? If you can't, then we are on the same page. Doesn't mean I'm not going to try writing about it. Trying to make Shinichi not being to OOC outside of his comfort zones is truly a challenge.

Did you enjoy this prologue? I'd like to hear your opinions about this story.