So, hey there! This is my first fanfic for Detective Conan! I've thought about writing this piece for a long time, and I hope you enjoy it! If you do, please leave a review! :) Flames are definitely welcomed as well- constructive criticism doubly so.
The pairing is eventually Conan/Ai or Shinichi/Shiho...yea. Well, we'll just see how it turns out. This first chapter in written in first person, but I will probably be alternating between first and third.
Warning: Possible violence, massive AU, possible OOC (I sure hope not- but bear in mind that this first chapter shows some scenes where Shiho is still a little girl and hasn't learned to control her emotions yet)
Thank you and enjoy your read!
DC does not belong to me.
In one of my earliest memories, I am being taught how to swim.
Rough hands pushed me under chlorinated pool water and I fought for a useless moment, thrashing wildly, my arm and leg muscles tightening with the sudden cold. The will to fight left me as quickly as it came; my eyes closed once again as the cold darkness enveloped me. And then, there was sudden light. I coughed; once, twice, gasping for oxygen, the smell of pool water sharp in my nose and salty in my mouth.
Someone was shaking me.
I blinked and opened my eyes, squinting in the harsh sunlight, spots of darkness in my vision.
"Sherry!" A man's voice growled, rough with impatience. "Fight! Don't just go limp! Do you hear me?" He continued his tirade for a few seconds, then shook me again when I didn't respond.
I was dunked into water again, just as quickly as I had been pulled out. Once again I tried to fight the hands holding me, escape from their violent grasp, and once again I surrendered within the course of a few minutes or so. He pulled me out of the water again, shook me as he would a bedraggled cat, and pushed me back in.
The process repeated for several times, but suddenly, the man seemed to lose his patience. With a growl of annoyance, he forcefully threw me into the pool.
Without the usual hands holding me, I splashed into the middle of the deep pool and tried to breath- I immediately ingested a mouthful of water. Spitting it out with a stream of bubbles, I opened my eyes to find myself underwater. A few seconds later, my eyes stung and my throat burned for air. Air! Air! Finally, with some unknown sense of self-preservation that I had never known before, I dug deep into my mind, into the well of power that I could never quite reach, and pulled.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, black dots exploded and my vision was flooded with light.
At the same time, I rocketed out of the water with a surprised yelp and took in several deep lungfuls of air. Landing roughly on the side of the pool, I looked up with all the satisfaction of a little kid who had just completed her task.
"Good." The man grunted grudgingly, and then forced me up onto my feet. I staggered a little, dizzy from my little stunt. However, I held onto my sense of balance and looked up again, expecting something more- maybe a reward, or something?
"Do it again." The man said, and my stomach sank, heavy with despair and the pool water that I had drunk.
"Again!" The man repeated himself, and he pushed me into the pool. Slipping, I banged my head on the side of the pool deck and darkness descended on me. The last thing I heard was his vicious cursing.
At that time, I was only three.
~O-o-o-o-o-O~
Before the human race had ever been there to create countless cities, societies, and organizations, the fallen angels had been there to guide them. Cast away from the highest order of the Archangels by an angry God, the angels had no choice but to leave the heavens. The angels fell from the skies, landing in many scattered places around the world. There, the angels first encountered humans, in their rough, uncivilized form. Eventually, the angels integrated themselves into human society and they interbred, resulting in humans that possessed gifts not ordinarily available to mankind.
Over the centuries, angel blood in humans thinned. People all around the world still possessed angel blood; however, it was diluted and offered none of its ordinary power. But should you walk out onto a street in any place in the world…say, Tokyo, Japan, you would still see the mark that angel blood has left on the humans- a pair of sharp, sapphire eyes there, a tint of dark purple in black hair over there, the extraordinary, unusual intelligence in someone's gaze, or the remarkable agility with which someone moves.
What no one knows now, though, in society, is that there is still an organization- an organization of angels gone bad, demons with darkened hearts and their sights set on immortality and ascension to the golden heavens, to rule once again in the realm in the sky. These people scoured the earth for the people with the purest angel blood…using their countless abilities and intelligence to gain control of mankind.
In the end, their ultimate plan was to use humankind as the victim to obtain their ransom- being once again allowed in heaven's light.
~O-o-o-o-o-O~
In another memory, in another one of the lessons that they have forced me to learn, over and over, I am dodging gunshots.
I was standing in a large room, filling with moving targets. The lights were half-dimmed and I was disoriented, having been pulled out of bed to stand here and wait…for something. They hadn't told me.
The large crack of a gunshot shattered me out of my thoughts and I dodged left, right, ducking and spinning. Another bullet was coming! And another! And…I was moving too slow…I tried to jump away but-
"Ow!" A half-scream burst from my throat and I stopped in my tracks. I barely even noticed as the gunshots stopped echoing around me.
An agonizing pain bloomed in my right shoulder; shaking, I dropped down to the floor and instinctively grabbed the wound, looking in horror at my mangled shoulder. The movement only increased the waves of pain washing over me and I let out an involuntary whimper. Feeling dizzy at the bright red flow of blood (a color I would later come to hate), I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"Suppress your emotions." A feminine voice murmured reprovingly from behind me. I did not have to look to know who was speaking to me. It was Vermouth, (young and vain back then- and still young and vain) her long silver-blond hair curling past her shoulders. When I turned to glance at her expression, I was met with disappointment.
"I know." I sighed through teeth clenched in pain.
"Very well." Vermouth snapped her fingers. I bit my lip in dread, sensitive ears catching a series of resounding clicks as guns were reloaded and fingers were set at the trigger.
"No! My wound-!" I finally voiced my objections.
She looked down at me coolly. "You won't die." She said pointedly. "You are nearly pureblood."
"Yes, but-" I stammered.
She nodded towards the darkness, and the guns fired.
I was too slow to escape. Pain erupted in several places on my body as bullets grazed past me, and I hit the floor and stayed down. Vermouth bent down and eyed me dispassionately. "She's stunned." She called out, "Get some medical help."
Again, the welcome darkness claimed me, and I faded away.
~O-o-o-o-o-O~
"What is your name?" Gin asked me.
"Shiho." I said.
He drew his gun and fired; I clutched at my right shoulder, the same one that had been injured last year on that training field, with Vermouth as my instructor. This time, however, I kept my composure, standing straight and tall. I stared him squarely in the eyes, even though he was several feet taller than me and an imposing sight. Internally, though, I was shaking like a leaf in the wind- he was ten years older than me and far less gentle than Vermouth had been with me.
A slow merciless smirk spread across his face. "What is your name?"
"Shiho Miyano." I said stubbornly.
He fired again. I reiterated that my name was Shiho Miyano. He fired again. And again…and again.
Finally, he stopped and looked down at me from where I had been reduced to crouching on the floor to cover my injuries.
"What is your name now?" He asked, enunciating each word, making sure that any forbidden reply would be met with drastic consequences.
Stomach heavy with defeat, I looked away. "Sherry." I whispered, the name bitter on my lips and tongue.
"Correct. Sherry." Gin put his gun away and turned to leave the room. "Don't think about asking the medics for assistance; they won't give me any."
"Sherry isn't my name." I said under my breath; Gin paused at the doorway of the room.
"Your name is Sherry." Gin said slowly. He smiled coldly, turning back to look at me. Under his frozen gaze, I trembled with fear.
"No." I muttered.
"Your name is Sherry, or you have no name at all." Gin shut the door gently behind him. The chill I felt as the lock clicked had nothing to do with the breeze coming in through the open window.
~O-o-o-o-o-O~
Thirteen years later, Professor Agasa would find a little girl in an oversized lab coat and bring her into his house, where she awakened (in shock) to find a cup of hot chocolate and a pair of large eyes framed by round spectacles staring at her.
She had no name.