Unwinding
"Just don't forget that it could kill you," Ai was always reminding him. He should have listened.
A/N: Detective Conan and Magic Kaito are still, sadly, not ours. If they were, how would we be writing fanfic? If you read the summary and thought "deathfic," well, you're right—but we've done at least one or two things you haven't seen before (and we'd know, since between us, we've probably read most of the other DCMK deathfics on the site).
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"Oi, Haibara-san, I need a temporary antidote," Shinichi said as he walked down the stairs that led into Professor Agasa's basement laboratory.
As usual, the room was poorly lit, Ai's computer providing as much illumination as any of the overhead lights. The small scientist herself was perched on a stool and leaning over a table, apparently reading some sort of scientific journal. Absently, Shinichi wondered what someone who didn't know Ai's true age would make of this scene.
Ai barely glanced at him before going back to the journal. "What for?" she asked, an edge of sarcasm underlying her mild tone. "You just used one the other week, I hardly think you should need another one so soon."
Shinichi scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. "The one the other week was for a case," he said, sheepish. "This one's for seeing Ran. She's been really quiet over the last few weeks, and I thought…"
"That a visit from Shinichi would cheer her up," Ai finished for him. She sighed and closed the journal, watching him with a measuring look in her eyes. "If you keep using the temporary antidotes like this, you will become immune to them. You know that. That's why the last few haven't lasted as long as they should have. If you take another one now—" She shook her head.
"I know all of that," Shinichi said. "But Ran's been waiting all this time, and I keep using the antidotes for cases or trying to disprove her suspicions instead of spending time with her…" He sighed, then added, "Please?"
"All right," Ai said reluctantly, clambering off the stool to fetch an unmarked pill bottle from the desk drawer. "This is the newest antidote. I haven't completed all of the tests on it yet, but it should work for at least ten hours," she said as she handed him the orange-and-white bottle.
"Okay, ten hours," Shinichi said, nodding. "Got it. Thanks, Haibara-san. I really appreciate this."
"Just don't forget that it could kill you," Ai added severely. "Do not do anything that would put stress on your heart—no running after criminals, and especially no playing soccer. Understood?"
"Understood," Shinchi repeated, grumbling. "You've told me all of this before; I'll be careful." Half-muttering, he added, "Even if it would be really nice to play a game when I'm not half the size of the goal."
"Which is exactly why I have to keep reminding you," Ai said. "Do you have an excuse for Ran-neechan for Conan-kun to disappear while Shinichi-niisan is here?"
"I thought if I could get you to say yes, I'd ask Professor Agasa to call Ran and say I was staying over here for the day," Shinichi said, with a shrug. He felt his smile twist, slightly. "Ten hours isn't that long for Conan to be at the Professor's, after all. So, any other warnings, or can I take the antidote now?"
"You might want to go get a change of clothes first," Ai said sardonically as she opened the journal again, "but other than that, do what you want."
Shinichi carefully did not roll his eyes and went to go find one of the spare sets of adult-sized clothes that the professor had taken to keeping around the lab. Fortunately, this time, they were in one of the cupboards instead of shoved under a leaking spare miniaturized engine like the set he'd had to use for the case last time.
Ai was using the main room, so it looked like he was taking the antidote in the bathroom again. It wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, but it was a lot better than having a girl watching—especially one who looked like she was in elementary school and thought it was funny to take advantage of the few seconds he was disoriented after changing to embarrass him. He went into the bathroom, shut the door behind him, and changed as much as he was able to—his full-sized pants wouldn't stay on at this size, but he could wear his shirt and the boxers, at least.
He looked at the pill bottle for a few seconds. Ai was always coming up with new antidotes but they never actually seemed to work any differently from the old ones. Well, it didn't really matter, did it? As long as it worked.
He took the lid off the bottle and dry-swallowed the pill—which Ai would probably also yell at him for doing, later, but for right now what she didn't know about couldn't get him in trouble. It took a few seconds for the antidote to start working.
Except, there was something... off, this time. Normally, when he started changing, he felt kind of disoriented, like he was both his intended size and short at once, and then the chest pains and body temperature changes started. That was not what was happening.
There had been a brief flash of localized chest pain, and then, everything hurt. And he felt hot, but not as hot as he would have expected, under these circumstances. Normally he felt like he was running a fever. This was weird. And a little bit worrying. Ai knew what she was doing with the antidotes, she wouldn't have screwed anything up—
Then, suddenly, everything was hot, and some of the pain might have been stronger than the rest and it might have been chest pain, but it was impossible, really, to separate anything out, and Shinichi was beginning to think that taking the antidote in private was a pretty stupid decision—
He blacked out before he could bring the thought to completion.
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Sitting in cold plastic chairs had never been Takagi's style. He could never seem to get comfortable in them, and there was just something about the way the back of the chair curved that his body really disliked. But today, he was rather grateful to sink into one, horrible off-shade of white and all. He needed a break.
Actually what he needed was to not be here, but that wasn't going to happen. He'd seen roughly a third of the First Division here as he'd walked in with Satou-san, and while it was sort of nice that no one had said anything about them coming together, it likely had more to do with the situation than anything. None of them wanted to be here, really, but—
They couldn't exactly ignore it, either. Unbelievable as it might be, little Edogawa Conan had died very suddenly last week, and today was the funeral.
Perhaps the worst part of it was that it hadn't even been related to a case. The coroner had deemed it a heart attack, natural causes, no evidence of poison or other prior trauma. He hadn't been kidnapped, or taken hostage, or drugged—he'd just died. No warning, no leads to follow, no murderer to put in jail, just… gone.
Ran had been devastated when she'd called to tell the Station, not that anyone could blame her. She'd just lost her charge, practically her little brother—how could anyone expect her to be otherwise? And from the way she had collapsed into her own plastic chair in the front row, it was no different now.
Mouri was still hovering over her, looking like he was caught between trying to comfort his daughter and maintaining the undercurrent of rage Takagi had seen in him ever since Conan's death. An odd reaction to a child's death—but then, maybe not so odd. Conan had been his ward, after all. Maybe he was angry that he hadn't been able to do anything to keep Conan safe?
Which brought up another question: where were Conan's parents? Surely they had to be here somewhere, even parents as flighty as Conan's wouldn't not come to their own child's funeral. Although, Takagi admitted to himself, since he had never met either of them himself, they could be here without him knowing it. There were several couples he'd not seen before present, though none of them quite seemed distraught enough to be Conan's parents.
But Mouri wasn't watching Ran anymore. Takagi followed the man's gaze, blinking a little in shock when he realized he was watching Kudou Yuusaku escort a very-distressed-looking lady to the front of the room. Conan-kun's mother? he wondered.
"You—" Mouri bit out, hands fisted at his sides. "Where have you been?"
"I was travelling, and Conan-kun was enjoying his time with you," the woman said, in an alto that would've been grating even if it wasn't rough with tears. "If I'd known something like this would happen—"
Ran looked up at the woman's voice, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. "Edogawa-san?" she asked, sounding slightly surprised. "I didn't think you'd gotten my call… And Kudou-san? What are you doing here?"
"I got your call, dear," Conan's mother said, carefully wiping at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. "I was in such a rush to get here I'm afraid I forgot to call you back. I'm so sorry. I was so upset, I just forgot."
"You just forgot," Mouri said. "Forgot to call, forgot to tell us anything, forgot to—" he broke off, then turned his angry gaze on Yuusaku. "And you. What are you doing here, anyway?"
Yuusaku's expression hardened. "Conan-kun was a relative of mine as well, Kogoro, or did you forget that?" He paused, then added, "I think your time would be better spent attending to your daughter rather than harassing Edogawa-san."
Takagi winced. He must have really made Kudou-san mad, he thought to himself. Not that I blame him. Mouri-san does have a point, but now is really not the time to be yelling at poor Conan-kun's mother for not being here sooner.
Mouri reeled back as if he'd been struck by a blow, and glanced at Ran before looking back to Yuusaku, looking absolutely furious. "Now see here, you—"
"Dad," Ran said quietly, putting a hand on her father's arm. "It's okay. I'm glad they're here now, so can we just…"
Mouri's expression softened, and he sighed. "Alright," he said more quietly.
"Thank you for taking care of my son," Conan's mother said, bowing at the waist. She straightened, and looked ready to say something else, but in the end, just repeated, "Thank you."
Ran leaned into her father for a moment for a brief hug. "It's okay," she said quietly. "I just wish—" She swiped the heel of her hand across her eyes, trying to stop the tears.
"Ran-chan," Yuusaku said softly, a gentle note of question in his tone.
"That he were here," Ran said brokenly. "He should be playing games with his friends, or reading, or… or something. He's in first grade, he can't be—he just can't."
Yuusaku pressed his lips together, frowning, his eyes bright, but didn't say anything in response.
"He should have his whole life ahead of him," Ran continued, openly crying now. "Do you know what he wanted to do when he grew up?"
Conan's mother blinked at her for two seconds, worked her jaw as if to answer, and then burst into tears. Yuusaku put a hand on her shoulder and then took a deep breath. "I think... he mentioned detective work…" he managed, voice strained.
Ran nodded. "He was always trying to help Dad with cases," she said, smiling crookedly through her tears. "Always getting himself in trouble 'investigating' with his little friends… just like Shinichi used to." She looked up at Yuusaku. "Have you seen Shinichi lately? He keeps telling me he's off on a case, but… I never get to see him anymore."
Yuusaku stared at her, eyes oddly wide, as Conan's mother's sobbing increased in volume. Startled, Yuusaku turned to check on her.
"Shinichi is…" Yuusaku's voice was soft. "I haven't seen him for a while, either, so there's not much—" he broke off. "I think I should see to Edogawa-san. Perhaps we can talk later."
"That might be for the best," Mouri agreed, gently steering Ran away from Conan's distraught mother and toward a chair.
Takagi watched for a bit as Yuusaku tried to comfort Conan's mother before respectfully looking away, feeling a little ashamed for inadvertently invading what felt like a private moment. Grief that deep isn't meant to be seen in public, he thought to himself, glancing around the room before noticing quiet bickering. Is that Heiji-kun?
"Look, I jus' wanna talk ta her a second, is that so bad?" Heiji asked, a decidedly surly frown on his face.
"Ran doesn' need ya botherin' her righ' now," hissed a girl with a ponytail that Takagi vaguely recognized but couldn't name, as she hurried to catch up with him.
"I'm not gonna 'bother her,'" Heiji protested, seeming insulted now.
"Hattori-kun?" Ran asked, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"
Heiji stared at her. "Didja think I wouldn't come?" he asked, sounding torn between incredulity, outrage, and no small amount of hurt.
"We started figurin' out how ta get here for the funeral as soon as we heard," the girl said. "I'm so sorry, Ran-chan."
"Thanks, Kazuha-chan," Ran said, then looked back to Heiji. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—it's just, I wasn't really expecting you to make it here. I'm glad you came… I'm sure Conan-kun would have appreciated it."
"Yeah," Heiji said, voice rough. "Didn't mean ta be rude, either, nee-chan." He fidgeted in place, clearly uncomfortable. "Ku-Conan-kun always thought th' world of ya an'—" he broke off, running a hand through his hair. "Ugh, I dunno what I even came over here ta say."
Ran smiled at him crookedly. "It's okay, Hattori-kun. You don't really have to say anything… Just being here means a lot."
"Never knew what you saw in the brat anyway," Mouri grumbled, crossing his arms.
Heiji's expression darkened immediately. "Whaddya mean by that?" he all but snarled. "That 'brat' was a better detective 'n—" He cut himself off, with some effort. "You have no idea what you're talking about, so jus' try 'n have some respect, why don'cha?"
Mouri snorted, shaking his head. "You're always going on about how he was a great detective and all, but he's eight," he said. "No kid that age is much 'good' at anything. I don't care how much you compare him to that cousin of his, he's not the detective kid Ran went to school with."
Heiji flinched, not a small thing, but a reaction that was just shy of a full-body-shudder. For a moment, the way that he clenched his fist made it look as though he might actually punch Mouri, but in the end, his hand didn't move from his side.
"The only reason I ain't startin' a fight wit' you is that he'd be stoppin' me if he were here," Heiji finally said, his voice thick. "Yer an idiot, and I ain't the one who deserves a chance ta tell ya that. So keep yer mouth shut about things ya don't have the first idea about. Kazuha, let's go."
"Heiji…" Kazuha said, quiet and wide-eyed, tone caught between scolding and questioning. She took Heiji's hand and started toward another part of the room, as he followed.
"Hattori-kun…" Ran reached out as if to grab Heiji's arm, but stopped halfway through, letting the two of them leave, and then turned back to face her father, glaring. "What's wrong with you, Dad?" she demanded. "First you argue with Kudou-san and make Edogawa-san upset, and now you're picking a fight with Hattori-kun?"
Mouri's eyes widened slightly, and his posture went slack, losing the rigidity of anger. "Ran, I—"
"No, Dad," Ran cut him off. "I don't want your excuses. I just—" She swiped at her eyes angrily. "We're supposed to be here for Conan-kun, all of us. If you can't manage that, you shouldn't even be here."
"You're right," Mouri said after a moment, sounding defeated. "I'm sorry, Ran. It's just…"
"I know, Dad," Ran said, voice tired. "You're upset too. But you can't keep arguing with people. And you have to stop insulting Conan-kun." She took a breath, rubbed her eyes again, and added, "I know you didn't always get along, but he was just a kid."
Mouri grimaced. "I've never done too well with funerals," he said. "But you shouldn't have to spend today pulling me out of arguments. This is tough enough for you already, right?"
Ran nodded.
Takagi felt for Mouri, just a little, as he saw the detective wince. The man could be difficult—nearly impossible, really, at times, but he did try to be there for his daughter, and he'd tried to be there for Conan. There had certainly been times when Mouri had been gruff and even outright unkind to his ward, but he'd also shown concern for Conan when he was in danger, and that was proof enough for Takagi that the man cared more than he professed to.
"I'll go talk to Megure for a while," Mouri said.
"Yeah," Ran said. "But, really, Dad, I didn't mean you had to go—"
"If I keep talking to people who come talk to you, I'm gonna keep picking fights," Mouri said, already standing to leave with his hands firmly jammed into the pockets of his suit jacket. "I'll be fine."
Ran watched her father leave for a moment, looking rather lost.
"Ran-onee-san!" came a high-pitched shout, and then a few seconds later, a teary Yoshida Ayumi was all but attached to Ran's leg.
"Ayumi-kun, don't run off like that," Professor Agasa said weakly, half-running across the room and coming to a stop, panting, with his hands on his knees. As soon as he did, the three other children trailing behind him immediately started clinging to him again—Mitsuhiko wrapping an arm around his arm, Genta all but pressed into his side, and even Ai standing almost right next to him. Takagi wasn't sure he'd ever seen her that close to another human before.
"It's okay, Professor," Ran said reassuringly, gently rubbing Ayumi's back. "We're all pretty upset. You guys really miss him, huh," she said quietly.
Genta nodded tightly. "Uh-huh."
"We do," Mitsuhiko said.
"They understand what's going better than most kids their age would," Agasa said, tone slightly hushed. "Even though Conan-kun always tried to keep them away from the more serious cases, they seemed to find them anyway. Like it was with Shinichi, when you were kids."
"Only with me and Shinichi," Ran said, smiling wistfully, "it was always little stuff when we were their ages. Kudou-san always tried to keep us away from the really serious cases."
Agasa tried for a smile and didn't quite make it. "I remember Conan telling me a story about how you and Shinichi met Kaitou KID, and he mentioned throwing knives. He liked telling stories."
"He had all sorts of stories about things his cousin did," Mitsuhiko said, half into Agasa's sleeve. "And things he did in Hawaii."
Ayumi made a sniffling noise.
"And even more stories about things he learned from TV," Ai added dryly.
"He was good at riddles, too," Genta said. "He always knew the answer before we did."
"He wanted to be a good detective, just like Shinichi," Ran said quietly. "I just wish he'd gotten the chance." She knelt and hugged Ayumi close, beckoning the other three kids to join in the hug with her other hand. "Do you guys still want to be detectives?" she asked once she'd let them go.
"I do," Ayumi said, with a little frown of determination. "Conan-kun wouldn't want us to give up."
Mitsuhiko nodded. "I think Ayumi-chan is right," he said. "And... I like being a detective. I wouldn't have found out if I hadn't met Conan-kun, but I want to keep doing it because I like it, too."
"Me too," Genta agreed. "Conan-kun might not be able to lead us anymore, but we're still the Detective Boys!"
"...Ai-chan?" Ran prompted when Ai remained silent.
The small girl's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "I'll stay with them," she said quietly.
"Good," Ran said, smiling tightly. "You'll all make great detectives some day. I'm sure Conan-kun will be proud."
"Absolutely," Professor Agasa agreed, almost brightly. Then, his expression sobered. "Ran-chan, I have something for you." He pulled a small flash drive out of his pocket. "Don't try to look at what's on it until after you go home." He grimaced a bit. "It might be best, if you could find someplace private... if you can't, you know that my house is always open to you."
"Of course," Ran agreed as she took the flash drive. "But… in private?" she asked. "What's on this, professor?"
Agasa shook his head, and didn't quite meet Ran's eyes. "It will explain itself, I think," he said quietly.
"Alright," Ran said, pocketing the flash drive.
After casting Ran a look that Takagi couldn't quite decipher, Agasa gently hustled the children off in the direction they'd come. Ai lingered for a few seconds after the other three had gone, but then turned on her heel and followed the professor before he had to prompt her. Takagi couldn't help worrying about the future of the Detective Boys without their leader, but it wasn't as if anything could be done about it.
The kids would adjust in time, after all, Takagi supposed, glancing around the crowd for any other familiar faces. There were a surprising number of people in attendance. Megure-keibu had joined Yuusaku in the far corner, and it looked like a few of Conan's teachers had come as well—Kobayashi-sensei and a blonde-haired lady whose name Takagi could not remember were sitting together. Mouri had found himself a seat away from everyone else—probably a wise decision, if the man meant to keep himself out of trouble—although Shiratori-keiji was headed his way, so the peace might not last too much longer. Sonoko seemed to be talking with Heiji and Kazuha, and—
Takagi blinked. He hadn't seen Kudou Shinichi in… how long had it been, now? Quite a while. Then again, Kudou had been turning up in Beika occasionally, and it made sense that he would put in an appearance at his little cousin's funeral.
What did not make sense was that Kudou seemed to be avoiding Ran, weaving through the crowd to stay out of her line of sight. Takagi narrowed his eyes in thought. What reason could Kudou possibly have for avoiding Ran? By all accounts, they were best friends—practically inseparable unless there was a murder case, according to Megure-keibu. Could they have had a fight?
For better or worse, it seemed that Takagi was about to find out, because Ran had just caught a glimpse of the boy while glancing toward Sonoko-san. She was out of her chair in a second, and by the time that Kudou saw her, she was close enough to see him trying to duck back into the crowd.
She frowned in determination, and caught him by the wrist, all but dragging him away from the crowd. "Stop trying to run away. Please," she said quietly.
Kudou visibly wilted. "You caught me," he said, equally quiet.
"I'm glad you're here, though," she said. "I wasn't sure…" she started sniffling. "Everyone keeps getting upset, it's all been so awful…" Abruptly, she started crying, then leaned forward to rest her face on his shirt.
"Sorry, Shinichi, I'm getting your shirt all wet," she mumbled into his shoulder.
Kudou froze, his expression turning to something like horrified comprehension before he pushed her away, holding her shoulders at arms' length. "Ran-san, listen to me, I'm not—Kudou-kun isn't—"
Ran blinked at him, still teary-eyed. "Shinichi?" she asked slowly.
"Isn't me," the boy said firmly, shaking his head. "I—I know I look like him, and I'm sorry, but I'm—I'm not—" He broke off suddenly, his shoulders slumping. "I'm just one of Conan-kun's friends," he said more quietly.
Takagi was, at this point, very confused. If the boy wasn't Kudou, who was he?
Hattori Heiji seemed to have some idea, approaching the two at what wasn't quite a run and all but wrenching the boy's left hand off of Ran's shoulder. The boy quickly removed the right as well, and stepped back as Heiji very deliberately placed himself between Ran and the other boy.
"Friend, huh?" Heiji said, giving the word a vicious twist. "I don't know what you think you're doing coming here looking like that, but—"
"Kuroba-kun?" came Kudou Yuusaku's voice, holding a note of surprise. "I wasn't certain you'd be able to make it."
"Kuroba-kun?" Hattori repeated in obvious confusion. Behind him, Ran flushed at the confirmation that the person she had been crying on was not her childhood friend.
"Kudou-san," Kuroba greeted, all traces of pain in his expression abruptly vanishing. "Thank you—I didn't know if I was welcome to come or not." The glance Kuroba shot Ran and Heiji was so fast that Takagi wasn't quite sure if he'd simply imagined it.
Yuusaku smiled at him, but the expression was obviously strained. "Kuroba-kun, you shouldn't have had to wonder that. I apologize." He paused, then turned his attention to Ran and Hattori. "Ran-chan, Hattori-kun, this is Kuroba Kaito. He's a family friend. Kuroba-kun, this is Mouri Ran and Hattori Heiji."
Heiji grimaced. "Sorry about, uh... I thought you were someone else, too, but not Shinichi," he said.
Ran, meanwhile, was scarlet-faced. "I can't believe I just—that was so rude of me! I am so sorry!" She bowed deeply, bending at the waist, then said, "It's just that you look so much alike! I'm very sorry, though. It won't happen again."
"Ah, no, it's okay," Kuroba said, waving his hands slightly as though flustered. "Really, you don't have to apologize—it's… an easy mistake to make." His smile was slightly wistful. "People were always saying we looked like twins, when we were younger."
"I can see why," Heiji said softly. "I'm... gonna go back and keep Kazuha company. She doesn't know most of the people here, so…"
Yuusaku nodded in his general direction, frowning, as Hattori left, once again moving just a bit too quickly to seem casual.
Ran, meanwhile, looked uncertain of what to say to Kuroba. Then, she perked up slightly. "Have you seen him recently?" she asked. "Shinichi, I mean."
"I, ah—" Kuroba started, then cut himself off and glanced at Kudou. "Not really," he said with a sigh. "I haven't seen him in a while. I've actually talked to Conan-kun more than Kudou-kun lately… He's been kind of hard to get a hold of."
Ran wilted. "I see," she said softly. "And... I'm sorry that I only got to meet one of Conan's friends under these circumstances. It would've been nice to meet you... before."
"Yeah," Kuroba agreed quietly. "If I'd known this was going to happen, I would've said something before, but—Conan-kun… he was a great kid. A great detective. I just wish we could have had the chance to watch him grow up."
"Me too," Ran said, sniffling a bit. Kudou didn't speak, but there was something slightly frozen about his expression as he nodded slightly.
"Is Yukiko-obasan—ah, Yukiko-san with you?" Kuroba asked Yuusaku, smiling a bit as he glanced around the room. "It's been a while since I've seen her."
Yuusaku lifted an eyebrow at "obasan." "She wasn't able to come, but you haven't spoken with Edogawa Fumiyo-san in a while, either. I'll take you to see her, if you'd like?"
"I'd like to see her again," Kuroba admitted. He turned back to Ran and bowed. "It was good to finally meet you in person, Ran-san."
Ran bowed slightly. "It was good to meet you too, Kuroba-san."
Takagi watched for a moment as Yuusaku led Kuroba off toward Conan's mother, talking in low tones. If he hadn't heard the introductions earlier, he would have sworn that the two were related, with how closely they resembled each other, but Kudou had simply called Kuroba a "family friend", not a relative of any kind, so—
"Takagi-kun, you've been looking off in that direction for a while," Satou said, sounding concerned. "Are you all right?"
"Huh?" Takagi asked reflexively, startled. "Oh, no, I'm fine, Satou-keiji. I just…" He sighed. "I can't believe he's gone," he said quietly.
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In the days since the funeral, Ran had found it hard to find the will to do things. Even simple things she'd done all her life—cooking breakfast, getting ready for school, folding laundry—had become difficult. Everything reminded her of Conan.
At dinner, she unconsciously made up an extra plate of food, and fought tears when she remembered that no one would be coming downstairs to eat it. Whenever she walked past the park and saw children playing games, she remembered watching Conan with his friends. She could hardly look at a newspaper without thinking about solving the crossword puzzles with Conan, or hear a police siren without catching herself making sure that the boy hadn't run off to follow them without her.
It was an effort just to get up in the morning, knowing that a sleepy-eyed little boy wasn't going to meet her in the kitchen, asking for a glass of water, and couldn't he please try a cup of coffee, Shinichi-nii-san said it was really good!
She'd always laughed and told him "no", that he wasn't old enough to drink coffee, but now she wished she had let him try it, at least once. Shinichi might like coffee, but Conan was still just a little kid—and it definitely would've been a good memory, whether Conan ended up liking the strong taste or not.
And Shinichi—oh, she was furious with him. Ran had left no less than six voice messages on his phone now, and he still wouldn't call her back. Of all the times the idiot could've forgotten to check his phone, why now? She wasn't even sure if Shinichi knew his cousin was—
Well. He hadn't come to the funeral, and everyone there kept talking in circles about where Shinichi was and what he was doing, why he wasn't there. She'd tried calling him about the funeral arrangements, but it kept going straight through to voicemail, and it'd been weeks since she'd last heard from him. Shinichi had never been out of contact for that long, and he always called her back when she left a message.
Maybe the professor would know what was going on with the idiot? She shrugged and started dialing. It was worth a try.
Agasa picked up immediately. "Ran-chan, I take it you watched the recording…" he said, tone oddly gentle.
"Recording?" Ran asked, confused. "What are you talking about, professor? I just wanted to ask if you knew any reason why Shinichi hasn't been answering his phone."
"Ran-chan…" Agasa said slowly. "That recording is important. You should watch it, as soon as possible."
"...what recording, professor?" Ran asked.
"On the flash drive," Agasa said. "Just... watch it. I think it will clear up some things."
"Alright," Ran agreed reluctantly, frowning. "Did Shinichi leave a message about being out of contact on it or something?"
"Ran-chan," Agasa said tiredly, "Please, just trust me. Go watch it."
"Okay," Ran said. "Goodbye, Professor Agasa."
"Goodbye, Ran-chan," Agasa said. "And... try not to be too upset with us. We did what we thought we had to."
Abruptly, he hung up.
Ran stared at the phone in her hand for a moment before replacing the handset in its cradle. "What was that supposed to mean?" she asked aloud. Eventually she shook her head, dismissing the thought, and went up to her room. She'd left the flash drive on her desk after the funeral, too overwhelmed at the time to think much of it, but now she was curious. What, exactly, was on this, that the professor thought it was so important?
There was only one file on the flash drive: a video, barely five minutes long according to the timer. Ran let it load for a minute before pressing Play.
Shinichi's face filled part of the screen, the rest occupied by the familiar backdrop of Professor Agasa's basement. He looked the same as always, though his clothes were a bit more disheveled than usual and his expression was unusually serious.
"Ran," he said, voice crackling a bit through her computer's speakers, "if you're watching this, something bad has happened, and I can't come talk to you about this in person. I want you to know that if I could, I would. I've been planning to tell you, as soon as I could."
His eyes darted away from the camera for a moment, and he took a deep breath.
"Professor Agasa is only supposed to give you this video if I—if Conan is in a coma, or," he paused, looking uncomfortable, "dead. So, if that isn't what happened, I need you to stop the video now. But if it is…"
He scratched the back of his neck. "Just, try not to be too angry at me, okay?" He grinned, bright and cheery, then winced, just a little bit, his expression sobering. "That time, at Tropical Land, when I went off on that case? I didn't really go anywhere. Something... happened to me, and I had to hide, because some dangerous people wanted me dead."
He winced again. "And I thought if you knew about it, they might try to kill you too, so I didn't want to tell you, and, besides, who would believe—" he broke off. "Well, it would probably just be easier to just show you, and I think I'm going to get to. Be right back, okay?"
Abruptly, the video sped up, judging by the fact that the Professor's wall clock rotated through about five minutes in two seconds. And then the speed was back to normal, and there were footsteps in the audio but Ran couldn't see anyone.
Until a chair that had been at the back of the room suddenly screeched across the floor, the person moving it hidden below the camera's line of sight until they were right in front of the camera and Ran caught sight of Conan's familiar cowlick. The boy clambered up onto the chair, no doubt curious about the open laptop—except, his expression didn't seem curious. Just very serious, and a little exhausted.
"I told you I'd be right back," Conan's voice piped. "And also that you'd have trouble believing me. But it's the truth. Whenever I've said otherwise, it's only been because I've been trying to protect you."
"I'm still sorry for lying," he continued, staring straight at the camera. "And that I didn't get the chance to explain this in person, so that you could yell at me like I deserve. But—please don't yell at the professor. This was all my idea."
"I hope you never see this," he said. "But if you do... ugh, I feel just as overdramatic as you're always saying I am. Ran, I love you. I still don't know if not telling you about... Conan... was the right decision... but I should've told you that, at least, a long time ago."
"Professor Agasa can answer any other questions you have," he said—and then the recording ended.
"Conan was—Shinichi was—" Ran stammered, staring at the blank screen, trying to wrap her mind around the thought. She'd been right. Conan really was Shinichi all along, hiding under her nose, lying to her all this time—
All the cases he ran into—starting a detective club—his love of soccer—the obsession with Holmes—it all made sense. Conan had always claimed he'd learned things from his 'Shinichi-niisan' because he'd learned them when he was Shinichi. He was perceptive beyond his years because he was eighteen, not eight.
And now Conan was—Shinichi was—
Ran buried her face in her hands and wept.