Edited: October 30th, 2011

Chapter Three: Conversations

"Shinichi, I . . ." Ran trailed off.

The two of them were in their otherwise abandoned classroom, supposedly cleaning, when Ran had begun to speak. Shinichi, who was currently facing towards the windows - and away from Ran - closed his eyes, desperately willing her to not say what he thought she was about to.

He had been 'back' a week, long enough to convince most people that he really was back for good.

But it wasn't enough.

"Ran . . ." he began, turning around to find her only a few steps away.

"Shinichi, I love you!"

And just like that the world went crashing down.

He had known she loved him. Of course he did, she had confessed as much to Conan, and even if she hadn't, her pain when he'd been 'away' spoke for itself.

When he'd imagined this moment he thought that it would all be over. That he'd be able to pull her into his arms and tell her that he loved her too. The continued existence of the Black Organization had never factored into his dreams, and neither had his own unstable condition.

It was all too much and he'd only hurt her more if he told her the truth.

Ran was staring at him, waiting for his answer and looking more uncertain by the second.

"Ran . . . I - I'm sorry. I love you like family, but . . ." he trailed off, horrified by the suddenly empty expression on Ran's face.

"Really?" she murmured.

For a moment he thought that she was going to deny what he said, to accuse him of the lie he had spoken. And God help him, but if she called him on his bluff, he wouldn't have the strength to deny it.

"I'm sorry," he practically whispered, "I'm so sorry. Please, Ran, I want to stay friends . . ."

And suddenly she was wearing a sunny smile, which hurt more than the emptiness had because it was fake.

"Okay," she said slowly. "You can't help your feelings, so friends is okay."

She was backing away, both physically and emotionally.

"Look, um . . . do you mind finishing up yourself? I promised Dad I'd get home early today."

"That's . . . that's fine," he replied, accepting her lie as payment for his own.

She gathered her stuff and was out the door without another word.

"You, Kudo Shinichi," he muttered to himself, "are officially the most pathetic person in the world."

He continued cleaning.

It had been a long day.

He had woken up tired and sore, which was never exactly a promising start. School had dragged by, with the only highlight being yet another harsh scolding from Sonoko about the whole situation with Ran.

Then there had been that case after school. He had run into Megure-keibu on his way home, and ended up involved in solving a murder, which had taken far longer than it should have because of the sheer number of suspects involved. Figures there wouldn't be one single person with a solid alibi.

Even that wouldn't have been so bad, except Takagi-keiji and Satou-keiji had both been there, and it was always a strain to figure out how he was supposed to act around them. Edogawa Conan knew them, but Kudo Shinichi was barely an acquaintance, which made for lots of awkward moments when Shinichi forgot that he hadn't been interacting with them for the last two years.

He also wasn't quite used to being able to just solve the case himself. He'd spent so long guiding the actions of others that he had to keep reminding himself that he was allowed to simply state what he was thinking.

After solving the case - the murderer had been the victim's own son - had come the exhausting process of convincing Megure to not let his involvement in the case be known. Shinichi was still trying to keep a low profile.

You would think that taking down the head of the organization and several of its top members would have made my life easier.

But no, Vermouth was still around, and just because the B.O. was currently in the middle of internal power struggles it didn't mean that they were harmless. It was all but impossible to tell how many people knew the name of Kudo Shinichi, or realized that he was supposed to be dead. Staying off the radar also made it much easier for Shinichi to keep at his unofficial job, the one that involved tracking down - and taking down - B.O. members. Even if he had to do it one person at a time for the rest of his life.

Why did I never consider how difficult and time consuming taking down a syndicate as far-reaching and deeply entrenched as they are would be?

The only answer was that he hadn't been thinking.

But eleven o'clock at night when he'd just gotten home and hadn't eaten yet probably wasn't the time to start thinking about it.

Shinichi unceremoniously dropped his school-bag in the front entrance, grateful that it was Friday and that he didn't have to attempt to finish his homework on top of everything else.

"Wow, you look beat." The voice, oddly cheerful and casual for its owner, startled Shinichi sufficiently to cause him to trip. White-clad arms caught him before he fell flat on his face.

"Good to see you too, tantei-kun!" Kaitou Kid joked, laughter in his voice.

Shinichi jerked out of the phantom thief's arms, face flaming red, "What the hell are you doing here again?" The demand came out harsher than he'd intended.

"I'm hurt," Kid replied dramatically, "Am I not allowed to visit my favourite detective?"

"I'd really rather if you didn't," Shinichi grumbled, ignoring the voice in his head that was accusing him of lying. I'm not supposed to enjoy the company of a thief!

"Ah, but I've visited you twice already and you didn't complain either time."

"I was sick the first time and the only reason I didn't call the police the second time was because I owed you a favour." He certainly was not going to disclose the fact that the real reason he hadn't kicked Kid out last time was that he'd been vaguely touched by the obvious attempt to check up on him.

"A favour does not equate to a cup of tea and a civil conversation." The damnable thief was grinning victoriously.

"Idiot. I was being polite." Shinichi stepped around his unwanted guest and starting walking in the direction of the kitchen.

"You're no fun when you're grumpy, tantei-kun," Kid said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll be taking my leave then. See you Sunday!"

Shinichi whirled around, his mouth open to retort only to find no trace of the phantom thief. Good riddance.

A growl from his stomach reminded the irritated detective that he should really get something to eat.

Grumpy? I've got a right to be. Anyone would be if someone like him had a habit of randomly letting themselves in your house.

Though maybe I was being a bit harsh . . .

Making his way into the kitchen, Shinichi was suddenly struck by Kid's parting words.

"'See you Sunday'? I wonder what he meant by . . ." the detective trailed off, his eyes alighting on a piece of paper stuck to his fridge by a magnet.

"Bastard," he murmured, removing the heist notice. Apparently he would see the thief on Sunday.

Slow, sultry jazz filled the room.

He thought that this place suited her, even though he knew just enough to realize that he wasn't looking at her true face. No, for the likes of him this woman would be wearing a disguise.

She took a sip of her cocktail, before turning to look at him. He shivered slightly. That gaze was cold, calculating. There were no illusions here; one misstep and he would be dead without anyone ever being the wiser. It was simply how things worked.

"Well?" she murmured, her voice as sultry as the jazz.

He gulped. "Things are unstable. With that person dead, she has been pulling together what's left of the organization here in Japan, but she's not trusted or liked by many. Combined with the fact that operatives keep disappearing because of the damn FBI, it's a perfect opportunity to . . . rearrange things. "

"Is that so?" She gestured to a nearby waiter, who promptly came over and placed a drink in front of him.

"A thank you gift," she said smoothly, even as he looked hesitantly at the drink.

She smiled at him and took a sip to prove it was harmless before handing it over to him. He tentatively smiled back before taking his own sip.

Pain exploded in his chest. "Why?" he managed to choke out.

"Why?" she leaned close, "Because I don't trust traitors. Especially not ones who are bold enough to betray someone as powerful as Vermouth."

And the woman known only as Daiquiri walked out, leaving the informant to his death.