A/N: If you didn't understand the first chapter, with the poem, it was something I've mused about for a while. What if Conan actually was the murderer in every single case, and had been elaborately manufacturing them for his own enjoyment? Hopefully, that concept came across right and you all caught that drift.

This chapter's idea is taken from the first contact between Hattori Heiji and Kudou Shin'ichi / Edogawa Conan. Enjoy!

...WEST FOLLOWED EAST?
(Based on Files 92-96, 'Enter! The Rival from Ôsaka')

His heart seized. At once he realised what was happening. His bones were melting; his skin was burning; his eyes were whirling around painfully in their sockets.

He couldn't help but look. Look to see if there was anybody there.

She was there, for a few seconds, then talked about a doctor and ran off. Why did she want a doctor? It wasn't like he was-

Okay, scratch that thought. He was dying. He ought to have realised it by now.

Heart went again. His vision went black.

Where the hell was he!?

Why couldn't he hear a thing?

No, he could hear. He heard footsteps, faint footsteps... no, it couldn't be-! No! She couldn't see this! It would destroy her!

He stumbled out of the borrowed bed and reached around, pain wracking his body with every millimetre of movement. He managed to shuffle himself over... he could manage - he could manage to reach the closet just in time, right? Everything was moving faster than he perceived it to be.

He hoped she took a while with that doctor. Explaining things would take a while.

He felt it then, his limbs stretching out. The shirt he was wearing nearly tore apart. And the shorts... dear God, he hoped nobody saw him wearing them right now. He spat out a laugh; forced as it was, heavy and bitty like a bad recording, it sounded like the only friend he had at this moment. It was in pain; he was too...

His vision blurred back, and he saw he was nearly there. He grabbed loosely, glasses slipping from his face due to the sweat. The bow-tie, which had ripped, fell too. Good, he'd be choking, unable to breathe, because of that thing.

Then he looked at his hand in realisation. It wasn't the small, stubby-fingered hand of a child. The long, thin fingered reached out-

He was big. HE WAS BIG!

Then it caught his eye. He looked up at the figure in the door.

Figure... no! No! This couldn't be happening!

"Ku-kudou-kun..."

His face turned pallid. That wasn't Ran's vo-

Oh, God. Please, don't be him. Don't be Hattori Heiji. Don't be him, not now...!

The tan-faced Ôsakan knelt down. "What just happened, Ku-kudou-kun...?" he stuttered, reaching out to feel the scared boy's forehead. "There was Conan-kun, sittin' there, an' now, there's you."

He grabbed at the shirt in the closet a little stronger, trying to communicate what he meant while gasping those first gasps of adulthood. There was no time for words. He needed to breathe. He needed... to think, to be able to stand on his feet.

Hattori's eyes darted between the article of clothing and the intense blue eyes of the man in front of him, before understanding. "Right, better get you outta them pants."

The colour went straight back to the kid's face.

DCDCDCDCDCDCDCDC

"What was that all 'bout, Kudou-kun?" He felt Hattori leaning against the bookcase besides him; it caused the case to shake slightly under his weight. His heart was going to do flips again. He felt warm and cold at the same time. There was sweat coating his forehead, and his sight was blurring again. Not good... not good.

Ran had run for the doctor again.

"What was all what 'bout?"

Hattori crossed his arms. "I would talk about you winnin' the case, but I'm still wond'rin'-"

"Baro."

Hattori pushed himself off the case. "Excuse me?"

"There's no win or lose in this... this isn't some kind of – of koshien. There's only one truth."

"Yeah," Hattori replied. "So, tell me the one truth. What-"

No! Losing... losing... have... to... run! He bolted from the room, running for the door... steam began coming off him, as if he were some magical character in a cheap girl's cartoon... no time for Ran, no time for the doctor, no time for Hattori, he had to run-

"Shin'ichi!"

No... Don't... Ran... she faded into non-existence as his vision threatened to black out once more. Her voice faded... the stairs, make it down the stairs... he made it! B-but how!? Oh, who cared? His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest he couldn't hear the words spoken by the others as he darted out of the door-

No.

No, hell, no, this couldn't be happening! Not on the street! STUPID! STUPID!

Heck, he couldn't even hear himself think that... what was wrong with him!? Was he – was he changing back!? If so, NO! He had to say those words to Ran, he shouldn't have run away! But now – oh, now, what a perfect time to say it, huh? When he was about to shrink to the size of a six-year-old!?

Then his vision cancelled out. Just great... just...

And it happened again, and he nearly screamed, if not for the hand over his mouth. He felt himself dragged past the pain, past the screaming in his ears, dragged somewhere and held beside a wall as somebody held him and shit, how warm they felt... They were saying something to him, faintly, and there was a hand in his, and the other was stroking his face.

His bones were melting, pulling apart; his skeleton was shrinking, he could feel it tear into his lungs and he nearly stopped breathing; his entire self getting smaller, his eyeballs threatening to explode in their sockets.

"Kudou-kun."

His hearing was weak, and his sight was still so dim, and yet from the shadowy figure in front of him he discerned that familiar white cap and dark face that had to belong to the other teenage boy.

"...it's gonna be okay... shh... it's gonna be awright, Kudou-kun," said Hattori, and he wrapped his arms around him. "I dunno what's goin' on. You didn't wanna say. But I won't tell anyone 'bout this, awright?"

And he cried. He cried like the child he was, clamped so securely – still slipping away, need to hold on, need to stay on – onto this boy he had only met this afternoon, who now held his greatest secret.

Next Conan's Hint!: Prototype.