Title: Reflection

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Pairing: Haibara Ai/Miyano Shiho & Edogawa Conan/Kudo Shinichi

Genre: Romance, Supernatural

Rating: K

Language: English

Summary: With a stump of candle in one hand and the other clutching her nightdress, Haibara Ai approaches the old ominous mirror with one goal in my mind—to see whether she has a chance.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise

Author's note: This is actually the first fanfic I have finished and thus one of which I put a lot of effort in the making. Inspired by a conversation my cousins and I had during one sleepover a year ago, this tale is about Haibara Ai, in her struggle to know if she still had a chance through what she thought to be a pathetic venture— practicing a century-old superstitious belief, which I pretty much derived in complete form in Agatha Christie's Halloween Party.

It's really weird to write something like this when one had just been focusing with a fic like The Cure. But this will definitely be a fitting diversion for me.

Although I hope, someone will finally see my little innuendos. Unfortunately, nobody really saw through it in the other fic.

…

Reflection

Date Started: September 19 2012

Date Ended: September 27 2012

…

"I Have A Story To Tell"

….

To Alvin, rest in peace.

"I have a story to tell"

The utterance of the fateful words perked the ears of the three teenagers, their heads turning eagerly towards the speaker. Ayumi-chan puffed her chest proudly, deftly encouraged by the instant attention she had caught, to the satisfying anticipatory pause she had caused. I stopped in midchore, drawn by Ayumi-chan's wistful glance when she noticed she failed to take mine. That, i, who was supposed to be in her league in the precarious company of three older girls, did not even show an ounce of interest in her little storytelling story. Everyone else were already gathered in a semicircle around her, legs parted leisurely and eyes puckered at the prospective source of entertainment in this otherwise dismal wintry night. All of them stared at me, curious as to how a child, albeit probably a very mature one could pass up the chance and not display any eagerness to listen to a sleepover tale. But I had my experience with Ayumi's raconteur profession and I could safely say to myself at the time that goblins and fairies did not really appeal to me at all. In fact I had the hunch that whatever story she was about to retell was going to be just a reproduction to the repertoire of silly accounts we had heard already over our past camping trips. Most likely, she would fuse some of these and come up yet another story—not unique at all but just as equally silly.

The four girls were still staring, their gazes beckoning for her to come. Ayumi-chan's lips were curled, apparently on sulk with my inattention. I did not know if she was thinking I should with her in this or something. Suzuki-san, being the business tycoon heiress that she was, glared at me, obviously used into getting her way. , Mouri-san and Toyama-san, however just smiled encouragingly.

Sighing, I made my way towards the corner bunk Ayumi-chan and I were going to share, trying not to look resigned or forced. Their faces lit up.

I placed myself in between Mouri-san and Ayumi-chan and folded my knees the Japanese way which I found oddly comforting.

"This one I heard from Asami-oneesan." Ayumi began, then looked at me inquiringly, waiting for my confirmation that I could still remember Tsuburaya-kun's older sister, ten years his senior.

I nodded bleakly.

"I think she's in the same class with us in middle school. " Mouri-san, meanwhile remarked. "Right Sonoko?"

Suzuki bobbed her head in affirmation. "Oh. The freckled boy's sister."

"You mean Mitsuhiko-kun?" Toyama-san asked.

"Oh yes. And she's freckled too."

This was the first ever camping trip that the five of us, along with the boys in the next room and of course, Hakase in the upstairs bedroom, had converged together for the Christmas vacation. School was out so all of us—including Kudo-kun's Angel, her incorrigible bestfriend and even up to the twosome from Osaka— decided to humor Hakase's penchant for outings and embarked into a three-day stay in a ski lodge in Niigata, the accommodation of which courtesy of another friend of Hakase's—obviously some another noisy old man who if not for Ayumi herself who insisted an early slumber for obvious reasons, would have told us himself another boring story. But then, it was also relief when the other noisy old man, namely the Sleeping Detective Mouri Kogoro, declined when the invitation was presented to him. Apparently, he already had his plans set for the Okino Yoko fanclub where the famous idol herself was spending obliging two days with in company. So obviously, Mouri was beyond ecstatic and quickly availed himself a pass for the club's party. Not even his daughter—the almost qualified for sainthood Mouri Ran—could dissuade her from going to the party where booze would be one too many if she was not there to supervise her father's intake. And that's exactly how he liked it. And so, for the rest of the trip, we had the assurance that we would not have to burden ourselves with a noisy drunkard who didn't even deserve the praise he was getting.

But this trip, contrast to my unfounded enthusiasm, failed to yield the normalcy and smoothness I was hoping for. Not surprisingly, during the course of the skiing lessons, we stumbled upon a corpse—literally, or at least Kudo-kun did. I remembered sighing then and crisply reminding myself that hoping was to no avail when you have not one but two death magnets with me. It had been interesting enough though, if I look at in cold blood, watching Kudo-kun and his dark-skinned Osakan friend detective with the Kansai lisp prowl around the oh-so-scary crime scene like two pairs of bloodhounds, cock their heads as they minutely pondered about the murdered victim's dying message and finally after some rather comical brainstorming, their melodramatic denouncement. It was quite fun watching Naniwa Highschool Detective Hattori Heiji reconstruct the whole modus operandi with some interjections from his trainee Edogawa Conan—in reality his very counterpart, Detective of the East, Kudo Shinichi— and finally forced the culprit to give in. it was always the most depressing part of a case— how vengeful souls struck to inflict pain, even death to those that have wronged them. In this case, it was a man who killed another to protect his wife, a noble deed for me but a needless one for ones who had Kudo-kun's white-and-black-justice-be-done mindset. But I knew how it must have felt. After all, what made me any different? We were just two people who were forced to shed blood to preserve another's.

The following hours had been a blur to me although the day plowed on the way it should be before the disturbance. I skied and I quite flatter myself by judging that I seemed to have some skill in it. That was probably thanks to the extensive physical training I have undergone back in the Organization. To my heartache however, it was Mouri-san who had followed my progress al the way, even scolding the vertically-challenged Kudo-kun when he got around into teasing me in my smallest mistakes in the rearing. She straightened me up, pushed me forward and slid with me downhill. It felt nostalgic—how she smiled the same way Onee-chan did in those scarce times we were permitted to be together. It was very painful to look at her— my sister's clone, all brimmed with life and vitality, a smile on her face. I remember excusing myself to them, in a pretext of a headache and went back to the lodge, trying to make myself useful.

After dinner, we all went straight to our respective bedrooms. Hakase had declared he was taking the upstairs on all on his own, proclaiming that he needed the space to finalize an invention, something to do with a winter heater that would follow one all around and that although he wouldn't mind any interruption from our side, he was afraid it would be quite "explosive". A strange foresight, especially to the usually absentminded professor. The rest of us retired to the ground floor rooms, the four males to the right, us to the left. Each room had its own fireplace, quite a diversion to the radiator-induced warmth of urban life back in Tokyo. Our host, Fujiko-san, lit a fire in both rooms and left some spare firewood for tending.

Mouri-san stooped over the blazing embers and after putting more wood, blew air through it. At her second try, the flames leaped up and with a regained intensity, burned through the new wood. She drew back, satisfied by the fire she had relived. She then went back to our little assembly and bid Ayumi-chan to continue.

I suspected it was yet another version of the Yukitengu spirit urban tale, one which wishful overimaginative girls like Tsuburaya-san seemed to enjoy so much. As for me, I had no inclination for such nonsense. To quote Kudo-kun's superhero, the world is big enough for us. No ghosts need to apply. God knows there is evil enough already.

Ayumi drew a deep breath and summoned what she assumed to be her best storytelling voice. "it's about a mirror. A magic mirror."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. What now? A magic mirror that would teleport you instantly into anyplace? About a mirror inconsistent with the usual laws of reflection?

Ayumi went on, underailed. "Asami-senpai told us this mirror could show us our soulmate's face. That is, if you recite the magic poem before a very, very old mirror under the perfect conditions—as neesan phrased it. Without fail. It's a tricky thing but Asami-oneesan told us it's true! Many people had tried it already. It's true! We can actually see our future husband's faces! Isn't it exciting?"

The three teenagers gasped. They were indeed, much to my chagrin, excited.

"The mirror downstairs..." muttered the Toyama girl. "It's will be old enough, wouldn't it?"

"Fujiko-san said that it dates back way from the Kamekura period." answered Mouri-san, obviously pleased by the delight the remembrance of the remark gave her. "He told us about it remember? At dinner time."

In fact, it was more like our host had bragged to us about it. There was a much subtle difference.

"Sure. So it's quite expensive then?" the business heir, Suzuki asked superficially, probably wondering at the moment whether they had anything worthy enough to be rivaled amidst their equally bragging collection.

"I expect so." the other girl said, shrugging. "Old things do always come with money right?"

The logic of that reasoning was forever lost to me. After all, any old living thing was not really as valuable as these antique, wouldn't it be?

But that was hardly relevant.

Mouri-san flexed her fingers which were already damp with sweat from the building excitement. She turned to Ayumi-chan who was growing more pleased as the teenagers' eagerness became more obvious. Her desired effect had been accomplished already and she was still at the beginning—barely in what she thought to be the climax, I bet. There must be more although I pronounced not the least bit interested with it. Whatever revelations she was yet to tell, after all would only feed the deranged fantasies of these three Cupid wannabes. And I had enough.

"Please go on." prompted Mouri-san. Ayumi-chan grinned in return.

"One has to do it in the middle of the night. Twelve midnight is the best because the magical powers of the magic mirror would be in their strongest. Asami-oneesan said something about the alignment of the hands in evidence to that. And it should be dark."

"Dark?"

"Energy will be more available when there is no other thing to absorb it, or so Asami-oneesan says. You know, extra light source will be unnecessary or something like that. But one should light a candle at the very least so all the energy will c-converge in it. We should never neglect that. Otherwise things will not go according to plan."

Of course one would need a candle, I mused. Mirrors wouldn't reflect anything in the first place without any light source. It was basic optics. And, just about everything in this crappy life just wouldn't go "according to plan" so to me, the warning was rather futile.

"And then?" Mouri-san edged closer, her excitement getting more apparent to everyone as she prod further.

Suzuki noticed it too, empathy I could at least give her credit for. She nudged her bestfriend's elbow. "You wanna try it out Ran? To see whether Shinichi-kun will appear by your shoulder."

I found myself scoffing inwardly as the girl hopelessly denied Suzuki's surmise, trying to attribute her growing interest to sheer curiosity, a whim for a teenager who grew up in an inquisitive atmosphere— both of her parents being in the criminal justice system. But then, everyone knew about her anguish over the sudden, indefinite disappearance of her childhood friend-slash-boyfriend— Beika highschool detective Kudo Shinichi. Especially me, who in a sense was responsible for where he was now— or more accurately who he was pretending to be.

As if on cue, Ayumi-chan chuckled. "I wonder if I'll see Conan-kun." She looked to each of us earnestly. "Because I really want to."

"As for me, one thing is sure." Said Toyama-san seriously. "I wouldn't want to see Heiji."

There was laughter from the two teenager's part, shoulders shaking with mirth as Toyama-san looked at them weirdly, to all appearances, baffled. Ayumi joined in although I could see she didn't understand the humor at all, if such ironic shrewdness could be anything comedic. The little girl was counting herself in, as any cheerful child would, only for the sake of giggling.

"So.." Suzuki teased in between chortles, finally clearing up the matter which to me was already lucid enough for even the dense Kudo-kun to see through. As clear as the fact that Toyama-san, of course, was just trying to play dumb. "So you really do expect to see that dark-skinned guy, don't you? You really do."

Toyama-san shrugged. "Sure." she shot back. "Like you don't expect Kyogoku-san yourself."

"Of course. But it's Ran who is more gaga about it." She glanced sideways, shooting Mouri-san a mischievous grin. "She probably is thinking of the magic poem now, whatever it is."

"I'm just curious!" she insisted in vain. "That's all."

"Excited is more like it."

"But Ai-chan is curious too right?" She turned to me, flashing a smile. I felt momentarily annoyed. Using me as a diversion was hardly an offense I was likely to tolerate. But then, I decided, I might as well let it pass. The alternative was then the prospect of spending the night of listening to her misadventures with her knight-in-shining armor, the now poor shrunken Kudo-kun who was at this moment snoring at the other room. It was getting repetitive anyway, their little tragic romantic comedy story if there was any such thing. Even more so than Ayumi's so-called news byte. Might as well really, let it pass.

I did. "I have already heard of it." I surprised myself by saying truthfully. "Several times. Over and over. It's not a really obscure tale in America you know. Every schoolchild have probably tried it in sleepovers or anything of the sorts."

"Oh.." Ayumi sounded disappointed.

Mouri-san looked at me with curiosity. "Have you?" she asked "Tried it I mean."

I shook my head, shrugging. How could I when I was never even consented into attending such sleepovers? For that matter, I did not even have much friends and the few that I can call an acquaintance were too absorbed with themselves to bother hosting any? And when in even the most innocent gathering I was being watched? "I haven't. I think it's ridiculous. " I told her. "Probably invented by some bored and desperate antique dealer trying to sweettalk some shallow-minded, lovesick customer into buying."

That did it. They fell silent. I stood up and decided to pass the time by kindling the already dying fire. With a sharp intake of breath, I blew through the heated embers. The blaze flared up and burned again with regained intensity.

I went back to our circle.

"I still haven't tried it." said Ayumi, throwing me a balefyl glance. "So I don't know whether it's really ridiculous or not."

I almost groaned. Wasn't that the point of not trying it anyhow? It was just downright preposterous a belief I had considered us contemporary humans to be as laughable as the alchemist before, trying to turn lead into gold. While now we weren't battling with the laws of chemistry, we were immersing ourselves with some outmoded ritual, all in the name of being the clairvoyant Aphrodite that we always hoped to be. It was so absurd one wouldn't need any jargon from the sciences to shred it into pieces. Really, how could I expect a grandfather mirror to conjure the image of whoever I would get stuck with for the rest of my life? If there was one to consider at all to begin with.

"Let's try it then!" suggested Suzuki broadly, all the while glaring at me. "I mean, we will lose nothing anyway. There are candles downstairs and the old mirror of course." She glanced at her wristwatch. "And it's half past ten, . we can wait till midnight strikes. I'm not sleepy yet." Although with her drooping eyelids and hunched shoulders, it was clear that she was.

She widened her eyes, in an attempt to make us believe she was still running red hot. "It's still early for Pete's sake! Ten thirty." She pointed emphatically in the dial of her well, nice-looking watch. The less said about the price, the better. "And besides, Ran wants to see Shinichi-kun. It has been… What? Two weeks since he called last? And it's the Christmas Week! Doesn't he have any plans for the holidays?"

Mouri-san's face reddened. "Sonoko! He's busy with his cases!" It was obvious she herself was none too pleased with that. "Spending the seasons with me… us is probably not really high on his priorities right now. As we speak, he will be in a murder case, crouching around with a lens."

I sighed, knowing that Kudo-kun had already solved his case for the day and indeed, au contraire, he was looking forward on spending the holidays with his girlfriend. And he would. I had made sure of it.

I half-heard Suzuki reproaching Mouri-san, making an issue about her ever-the-martyr antics to her oblivious "husband" and trying to coax her on a scheme of making him somewhat realize about his luck on having Ran as his lover. Mouri-san flushed at that and tried to shut the other girl up but to no avail. I did not listen much, tired of this ongoing topic, a very painful subject that only brought me guilt and further insecurity.

So I raised an inquiring eyebrow at Ayumi, now willing to listen to her fairytale about the old mirror ritual , to rid myself and everyone else of listening again to Suzuki's shrill tirade about martyrdom and stuff. "So what about the story?"

"The what Ai-chan?"

"The story you are going to tell us about the mirror."

Her brows creased in confusion. "I am telling it."

I wanted to point out that what she was telling us was not a story at all but a stupid superstition that was currently feeding our co-campers share of overactive imagination, like a firewood to the fire and provoking them to go out of their way to try it, all in the name of foreseeing their soulmates ahead. But telling her that would only make me acknowledge she had indeed succeeded in her little goal. If anything, that wouldn't be any help at all. The last thing I needed in this predicament was a pack of three teenagers in remonstrance with my cynicism which wouldn't befit a child in the first place and an attention-seeking first grader whose conceit had just been welled up by my words.

"So what about the magic poem Ayumi-chan?" Toyama-san inquired just as the other two settled into all ears. "The one we have to recite?"

Ayumi furrowed her brows thoughtfully and I saw hesitation cross her features for a single moment, as if the question had taken her unawares which was unthinkable since the most unforeseeing of people would have known the promptitude was coming eventually. The more probably supposition however was that she did expect the inquiry but did not want to be asked about it. It was not the first time Ayumi had spoiled the whole thing out by not knowing any further.

"It's.." she stammered. "It's in English actually."

I smirked to myself. It was just as I thought.

"So" she tried to say, smiling coyly. She drew two fingers up, making a peace sign. "You see it's not really my fault. Assami-oneesan showed us this paper which was entirely gibberish to us. And she says the Nihonggo translation does not work at all. So well, sorry but I can't tell you."

"And" I concluded, taking pleasure to this piece of discouragement. "We can't do it. Without the poem, nothing will work." Not that I was anything displeased at Ayumi's lack of initiative.

There were successive groans of disappointment.

Ayumi's hands were still poised in the air, begging amnesty.

I rolled my eyes. "So what exactly is the point of telling us about this?"

I meant that to be something discouraging.

And it so it was. Ayumi was already near tears.

I glanced at my own watch. "Well it's late." I faked a yawn. No matter what Kudo-kun said, I could still deceive others through that. "Why don't we postpone this discussion for the morrow? We have an early start for the festival right? And we don't want to appear like sleepyheads in our kimonos." Then noticing their stillness, I noted. "Unless of course, you find your sulking more imminent?"

Toyama-san shrugged. Suzuki glared. Ayumi-chan pouted.

But Mouri-san was staring at me curiously.

I raised an eyebrow at her direction.

She smiled. "But you said Ai-chan that you have already heard about it. Several times." She gave emphasis in the last clause. Boy this girl sure was eager. "Do you remember the poem Ai-chan?"

I thought about lying, that I have forgotten, that I never really paid attention on such absurdity or that I was tired and wanting of sleep. But I was none of the above. I have not forgotten. How could I when the very person who told me that single-stanza I also couldn't just forget? Whispered to me by Akemi-oneesan in the one rare moment we were allowed to be together, I had always paid attention to what she was saying and they were all chiseled in my memory. Her voice, which I remembered was like that of an elf, had taken me many a time to a world where our parents lived, where there was no Organization. Where we were free.

And here was her exact facsimile, asking me whether I have heard of it.

And I no longer was tired. Not now. When the doppelganger had once again, albeit unknowingly awakened a once catatonic pain.

I shut my eyes and decided that I should as well humor them. And myself. So I nodded.

They all beamed with delight.

Without waiting for any more of their prompts, I told them, hearing in my head my long gone sister, enunciating the same words, all in our hope that there was a chance for us to be free.

(TBC)

Oh it's short, I know. I am rather exhausted with my current life right now and am just taking a break through this, only to find that I prefer listening to music for a while while lazing around cyberspace. I will try to update as soon as possible though. And yes, comments are loved.