Fandom: Detective Conan

Title: Threads of Fate

Author: Eeveebeth Fejvu

Theme: #37 – Threads of Fate

Pairing/Characters: Edogawa Conan and Haibara Ai

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. I requested Haibara to make me a pill that would somehow turn me into the creator of the shrunken tantei-san, but my order is in line behind the antidote to Apoptoxin-4869. …So, for now, I write fan fiction.

Summary: You think it's impossible to be born with a shared destiny?

Author's Note: This particular story, "Threads of Fate," won the award for "Best Fan Fiction in the Adult Division 2007" at my local bookstore's manga party. Pretty cool, ne?

"Wait, Ayumi-chan, you have to- That's right…" Ran sat back in her seat on the couch as the preteen girl corrected the difficult stitch she had been struggling with. Ayumi smiled in delight, then quickly grew serious again as she fiddled with the long twin needles, which created a pinging sound Conan found highly annoying every time they clattered together.

"Can't you do that more quietly, Ayumi-chan?" Genta grumbled in his gruff voice, absentmindedly stuffing another rice ball into his mouth. His eyes had been glued to the flickering television screen for the last hour and a half.

Mitsuhiko laughed. "Genta-kun, I think you're too absorbed in this movie. After all, it's not even an adventure movie or a horror movie; it's a romance – oof!" His playful teasing was silenced by a thwack from a pillow.

"You're watching this too, stupid," Genta retorted, not looking away from the screen.

"Yeah, well, I didn't choose it." Mitsuhiko held the pillow to his chest and placed his chin on top. "Ayumi-chan and Ran-neechan did."

"Ran-neechan saw this movie a few years ago in the theatres, right?" Ayumi asked, pausing in her endeavor to look up at the young woman.

"That's right," Ran nodded, smiling wistfully down at the red yarn in her lap. "I went to see it with Shinichi on his birthday, but it didn't exactly… work out as planned."

"That's when the theatre complex blew up?" Ayumi inquired. Ran nodded.

"I remember that," Genta muttered through a rice ball.

"I went to watch it later with Sonoko-chan, because Shinichi had to… to go back to the case he was on," Ran's smile weakened. "It's still a very good movie, though."

"I like it a lot," Ayumi commented, blushing, and hastily returned to her work-in-progress.

"Too mushy," was Mitsuhiko's assessment. A moment later, he ducked as Genta's swatting hand flew over his head.

"What do you think, Conan-kun?" Ran asked, trying to get the silent boy into the conversation.

Sitting on the floor, Conan shrugged, but felt himself squirming about on the inside. This movie was too personal to him to be watched with a group.

"Ai-chan?"

Without raising her eyes from the magazine she had been perusing since the movie had been started, the strawberry blonde made a noncommittal noise and left it at that.

Conan snickered to himself. He had caught Ai up late at night a few weeks before, wrapped in a blanket and watching this movie alone in the dark. Unbeknownst to her, he had stood behind her, leaning on the couch, and watched the movie with her until the credits were over. Then, surprising her, he had leaned over her shoulder to question her choice of entertainment. She had claimed she was only watching it because she was too tired to change the movie that Agasa-hakase had left in the DVD player. Smirking, he had told her he didn't believe her. She had thrown a drink coaster at him, but missed.

His snicker must have been loud enough for her to hear as she sat on the floor at the other end of the couch. Though her head didn't move, her piercing eyes slowly shifted sideways to his. At Ai's glare, he raised his eyebrows in faux innocence.

"Be quiet, you guys," Genta protested, despite the fact that no one was talking. "This is the good part."

The group sat in companionable silence until the movie was over. As the credits ran, Mitsuhiko stood up to stretch and received a half-eaten rice ball to the stomach for blocking Genta's view. Ayumi laughed and dropped her two needles as a flustered Mitsuhiko tried to brush the crumbs off his shirt. Being who she was, Ran got away with playfully teasing Genta for wanting to know the name of the actress that had played the movie's heroine.

Conan quickly got up to clear away what remained of the movie snacks before a food fight broke out between the two twelve-year-old boys. Agasa-hakase had cleaned his house only the day before, and Conan had promised the professor that he would make sure the place stayed clean while the latter was away in Kyoto. Ai was already stacking some of the plates on the tea table, so Conan collected the cups instead, making sure to carefully extract the thrown rice ball from the floor as well.

"Oh, here, let me help you with that, Conan-kun," Ran said quickly, starting to rise.

"That's okay, Ran-neechan, we've got it," he replied with a smile. Returning the smile hesitantly, the young woman sat back down and gathered the yarn once more into her lap. Ai ignored them both, and when she stood up with the dishes in her arms, she didn't wait for Conan as she made her way toward the kitchen. Conan hastily scooped up his load and followed, dodging a rowdily thrown pillow as he went.

"So was the movie better the second time?" Conan asked cheekily as he placed the cups next to the dirty dishes on the counter. Ai was already turning on the water to fill up the sink. Not even sparing him a glance, she went on to add the soap, and as the bubbles built up, grabbed the first dish.

"Are you going to make yourself useful or not?" she asked in reply, furiously scrubbing away the sauce. Obediently, Conan grabbed a dry dishtowel, and when Ai had finished rinsing it, took the plate and methodically began to wipe it off. This was a comfortably familiar scene to Conan. Once, he had often helped Ran this way, but he had been spending more and more time at Agasa's lately, so the domestic smell of suds and the dull thump of the plates in the bubbling dishwater had come to associate themselves more as time spent with the strawberry blonde than as past memories.

"You didn't answer my question," Conan complained after the first few dishes. Staring at himself in the dried plate in his hands, he realized that he no longer had to use a stepstool to reach the counter. Neither did Ai, for that matter.

"The movie was exactly the same as it was before," she answered in that tone Conan knew so well. "The movie will never change. Each time it is played, the characters will still say the same words, still carry out the same actions, still make the same mistakes. Replaying events will not alter them. The ending will always be the same."

Conan smiled in amusement. This verbal battlefield was a comfortably familiar scene as well. "If that were true, then no one would ever buy movies. We would see them once, and then move on. What I meant was–"

"You should say what you mean the first time." She handed him another plate, gracing him with the quickest of solemn glances. "You can never change what is said and done."

"Did you learn anything new from seeing the movie a second time?" he persisted. "After all, replaying events in the mind will alter your perception of them. That's how we learn from mistakes."

"…I merely confirmed a fact that I already knew."

"Which was?"

"I prefer a different genre than sentimental stupidity when it comes to entertainment." Noting his grin, she added in annoyance, "And I don't mean the mystery genre, either."

Sobering, Conan finished drying the dish and accepted the damp cup Ai offered him. "It is a rather… sappy movie, I admit. I've seen it enough to know. But it did make me… think, the first time I saw it."

"Oh? What about?" Ai asked, smirking. "How to use the main character's 'wooing techniques' to cause her to fall to pieces over you?"

"No!" In irritation, Conan slapped the cup he was holding onto the counter with greater force than necessary. Why was she always serious when he was joking, and always joking when he was being serious? It was so frustrating at times. "It made me think about… the idea of 'soul mates.'"

"Ah," she said, trying to hide the smile on her face by turning her head away from him. He saw her expression anyway.

"So you think it's impossible for two people to be born with a… shared destiny?" he asked ruthlessly.

"Do you?"

"…I think…" He considered his words carefully. "I think that it's not impossible. Maybe certain people in the world are meant to be together?" That last wasn't meant to be a question, but it came out that way regardless.

Handing him the next cup, Ai sighed. "Honestly? …It is ridiculous to think that people should be tied together by fate, Kudo-kun," she said, then added dryly, "especially by red string."

"Why?" For some reason, Conan felt let down at her words.

Possibly catching his tone, she continued more softly. "What if two people were tied together somehow, fated for their lives to be intertwined forever? That would mean that a person could not have more than one soul mate. And if one person died, then the remaining partner could only live out the rest of their life alone. More likely, they would die as well."

Feeling Conan's eyes on her, she paused in washing the last cup in her hand and turned her attention to him. "Instead of being destined by birth to live out your life with one other individual, shouldn't a person be able to love different people at different times, so that everyone will have a chance to be loved?"

After a long moment, she turned back to the sink. "We humans should not be tied together by some greater force. It is much better to be free of fate and destiny so that we can decide who we will love."

In thoughtful silence, Conan took the cup that Ai handed him and dried it off. After they had put all of the dishes away in their proper cabinets, they returned together to the living room.

"Conan-kun! Ai-chan!" Ayumi called to them, and motioned for the two to join her around the tea table. Mitsuhiko, Genta, and Ran were all sitting around it as well. In the middle of the tabletop lay a tiny pair of scissors and the ball of red yarn Ayumi had been working with during the movie. Conan remembered when the knitting craze had hit Teitan High School when he was still Shinichi. Both Sonoko and Ran had embraced the craft with enthusiasm, though only Ran had been able to truly master the twin needles. The craze had hit his current school only a few days before, and Ayumi had immediately gone to Ran to beg for her assistance in learning how it worked.

As Conan sat down, he realized that several long pieces of yarn had been cut from the ball and were lying in a pile. Ayumi was carefully knotting one strand to form a loop on both ends. Noticing Conan's scrutiny, Ayumi's cheeks grew red. "I thought that… maybe we could all…"

"Ayumi-chan, you spend too much time around some of those girls at school," Mitsuhiko muttered in exasperation. Sitting down next to Conan, Ai raised an eyebrow in question. Conan shrugged slightly in return.

"She wants to try this game they made up," Genta explained. "Something to do with that movie and all of the 'red thread' stuff."

"You looked pretty eager to try it yourself, Genta-kun," Mitsuhiko teased. Genta swung a fist at him, but the freckled boy had too much practice in ducking his friend's punches to be hit by one he was expecting.

"I'm not totally sure how it works," Ayumi confessed in growing discomfort, "because the girls made it up when they had a sleepover a few weeks ago – it was the same night we all went on the camping trip with Agasa-hakase. Anyway, they watched the movie too and made up this game about figuring out who someone's 'true soul mate' is."

Conan almost sighed aloud. He remembered these types of games. Usually they were written on paper, and involved answering questions, marking off choices, and coming up with an answer as to which people were 'destined' to marry based on what was left. He remembered that Sonoko had been obsessed with these sorts of things when she had been their age. She had always tried to manipulate the papers so that Ran was 'destined' to marry Shinichi. Shinichi had always manipulated the papers so that Sonoko was 'destined' to marry no one.

"They told me about it in class the other day… I mean, they made it like 'friendship soul mates', you know, instead of romantic ones like in the movie… but it could go either way, I guess." Conan wondered if Ayumi's face could grow any redder. "I was just wondering if maybe we could try it, just so I can figure out how it works…"

"We'll try it, Ayumi-chan," Ran said kindly, trying to make the girl feel less embarrassed. "We all know it's just for fun." Ayumi nodded gratefully. Conan doubted very highly that Ayumi would actually take this game lightly. After all, her eyes had darted to himself when she had uttered the word 'romantic.' Conan felt himself twitch. Yes, Ayumi would definitely take the results of this game seriously, especially if they were in her favor. He glanced over at Ai. From the deadpan look on her face, she obviously thought the same.

"So what do we have to do?" Mitsuhiko asked, now looking a little nervous. His eyes hopefully shifted between Ayumi and Ai. Conan pursed his lips to keep from laughing. Genta was also pointedly looking at Ayumi, whereas Ayumi was staring at him and Ran was… also staring at him. Conan blinked. He had been staring at Ai, who was staring blankly off in another direction.

He shook his head slightly. These childish games about love and destiny were just that: childish. There was no reason why he should take this one any more seriously than another.

Breaking the spell that the silence had cast over them, Ayumi laid the piece of yarn in her hand with the others and set the ball of yarn off of the tabletop. "Well, this is how it goes. You take pieces of yarn and tie loops on both ends, so it's like the 'threads of fate' in the movie. Then you mix them all up so you can't tell which loops are connected." She jumbled the pieces of yarn together. "Then, everyone puts one hand near the pile, and we all close our eyes and, in our minds, wish really hard that the threads will reveal our destinies. Then, with our eyes still closed, we search for one loop in the pile and slip it over our pinkie finger. Then, when everyone's ready, we all pull the strings and open our eyes."

"Our soul mates will be revealed!" Genta exclaimed dramatically. Ayumi blushed.

"Genta-kun, it's just a game," Mitsuhiko reminded him.

"So?"

"Let's try it then," Ran said, trying to prevent an argument. Ayumi nodded, then held her hand out over the pile of string.

"Hey…" Genta muttered suspiciously, as the others followed Ayumi's lead, "How can Ran-neechan play? She's too old!" Ran looked surprised, then slightly abashed.

"True love knows no bounds, including age," Mitsuhiko explained with sage-like maturity. Conan and Ai exchanged amused smirks. "And I told you, it's just a game, Genta-kun. …And you need an even number of people to play."

"Now, we all close our eyes…" Ayumi shut her eyes tightly, scrunching her nose up as she concentrated on her wish. Conan glanced around at the others. They had all complied, even Ai, though a frown remained on her face. Conan closed his eyes as well, not 'wishing really hard' to learn his destiny, but thinking about Ai's words in the kitchen. He wondered…

"Okay, when you're done wishing, find a loop…" Ayumi's voice trailed off. Someone's hand smacked into Conan's, jolting his thoughts. Eyes faithfully closed, he felt his way through a rush of fingers and grabbed onto the first piece of yarn he found. He managed to slide the oddly thick loop around his pinkie finger using only his thumb.

After a moment, Ayumi spoke up tentatively. "Is everyone ready?"

Murmurs of assent answered her question. Conan found that his heart was racing. He tried to tell himself again that this was just a childish, silly game that wasn't serious in the least, but his body didn't seem to want to listen. Anxiously, he rubbed his thumb over the thick yarn loop around his pinkie, and then frowned. Something wasn't right here.

"Okay, then," Ayumi said, excitement barely contained in her voice, "On the count of three… One… Two…"

Suddenly, Conan realized what was wrong. "Hey, wait a sec-"

"Three!"

A sharp tug on his little finger caused Conan's eyes to shoot open. There was a moment of silence.

"Hey!" Genta whined in complaint. "My thread isn't connected to anyone's!" He held up his pinkie, from which hung a limp piece of yarn.

"Uh…" Mitsuhiko's cheeks were as red as the thread that connected his pinkie to Ayumi's. The girl looked honestly surprised, though not entirely displeased.

Conan, however, barely noticed the three twelve-year-olds' expressions. He was too busy staring at his own little finger, around which was looped not one, but two pieces of yarn.

His gaze followed one thread until he met Ran's wide eyes. The young woman seemed more taken aback than she should, he thought rather anxiously. It was as if she was taking this seriously. Her eyes held the same longing and suspicion Conan had been faced with all of those times she had convinced herself that he was really Shinichi. It had been a long time since she had looked at him like this, but he remembered the expression well.

Mouth slightly open in unease, Conan forced himself to look away. His gaze followed the second red thread down its length to where it was looped around Ai's delicate little finger. Ai was staring at her finger blankly, but when she lifted her eyes to his, he realized that she was surprised as well. A moment later, however, her frown twitched slightly into an amused smirk.

In puzzled silence, the entire group watched as Ai slowly and gracefully picked up the tiny scissors lying on the table with her other hand and opened the blades wide. With a dramatic snip, the red yarn connecting the two young adults trapped in the bodies of children was severed.

Conan felt as she had just cut through his heart rather than the thread, until her smirk grew into a smile, a true smile directed solely at him.

A glint in her eye, Ai said quietly, "It is much better to be free."