Act 2 Scene 4 - 実践的な戦闘 [Jissenteki-na Sentou] 'Practical Fighting'


After a few days of getting used to the idea of being single again, 'Conan' returned from visiting his 'Aunt' Yukiko. It was late when he arrived, so he didn't bother rousing Kogorou and Ran. He curled up on the couch and fell asleep in his clothes, his luggage abandoned in the foyer.

Early the next morning, he was awakened by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he blearily looked up at who'd disturbed his rest. His heart sank. He'd hoped he could just avoid Ran.

"Shin-" she stopped, biting her lip. She took another breath and started again. "Conan. From now on, you're my little brother. As your big sister, it is my responsibility to help you protect yourself. When you find yourself in a dangerous situation, you will call me first. If you need advice, you can ask your big sister. In return, it is your responsibility to alert me of danger, so that I can protect myself. If I find myself in a dangerous situation, you'll be my first call. If I need advice, I'll seek council in my little brother. Do you understand?"

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. "I do. From now on, we're family."

She ruffled his hair the way she'd done when he was just Conan, but stopped halfway through, giving him a wry smile. "Is it okay if I do that?"

"As long as you don't drag me into the bath anymore, I think we'll be fine."

She giggled and resumed messing up his hair. "Go put your stuff away, and I'll get breakfast ready. You've still got school today."

This wasn't exactly how he'd imagined joining her family, but this wasn't so bad.


Amuro grinned and waved at Ran and Conan going to school as he bussed a table at Café Poirot. He was there, watching them return that afternoon as well. Then he came up behind Ran and Conan with a plate of sandwiches, same plaque-less grin on his face. Conan caught her eye, and frowned. She nodded. Something had to be done about this. She had to get him away from Conan and focused on something else.

"Amuro, can I speak to you alone about something for a minute?" she asked, interrupting her father's monologue about techniques for tailing people.

His eyebrows shot up, and he blinked. "Sure…" he said hesitantly.

Ran pulled him outside, ignoring Conan's worried frown.

"Lately, a lot of dangerous things have happened around us. I've been studying karate for years now, but I don't know much about fighting outside competitions. During some of the cases, I've seen you take down people who were causing problems. You did it really fast, with minimal collateral damage. I want to learn how to do that, so I can better protect my family and friends. Could you teach me?" None of it was lies, actually. She did need more experience for dealing with street fights, and Amuro did seem to be good at it. She looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

"Wow," he said at last. "The karate champion is asking me for help training? I'd ask the same of you actually."

"We could teach eachother. What do you think of that?" she added hastily.

"I suppose we could try it out for a while. I don't know how much I could teach you though." He studied her a minute, squinting. "Anything in particular bring this on?"

"Ah, no…" she looked away blushing. "We didn't run into any trouble on vacation, but Conan almost died again." Seeing his shocked expression, she elaborated, "It was an allergic reaction to a bee sting. No one tried to kill him except a suicidal honey bee."

"That kid just attracts trouble, doesn't he?" he muttered.

"Yeah," Ran laughed, "you can see why it's necessary. So when is a good time for you?"

He thought a moment. "How about after the dinner rush? My hours are fairly flexible, so if I ask for evenings off I should get them."

"Sounds like a plan." Ran smiled and bowed. "Thank you Sensei!"

He laughed, "Same to you, Sensei."

They re-entered the office. Conan and Kogorou had been listening in, it turned out, and they ran back to their places embarrassed.

After dinner, Conan dragged Ran into her room and closed the door.

"What the hell are you thinking? Why do you want to spend more time with him?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"It's less time he gets observing you!"

"Yeah, but…" Conan scowled, huffing. "It puts you more directly in danger."

Ran groaned. "We've been over this. Trust me; I can protect myself. Besides, maybe I'll learn some good practical fighting skills from him."

"Fine," Conan said, slumping his shoulders. "Be careful. Keep the conversation on fighting and normal stuff, don't talk about cases or me at all."

"Don't worry about me. I can handle myself." Ran picked up her homework, which had been sitting on the bed where she'd tossed it when she got home, and put it on her desk. Conan slipped out and put GPS trackers in her shoes.


The next day, after dinner, Amuro knocked on the door. "Get your coat, we're going to a good place to train."

Ran grabbed her coat, and they walked through the chilly early spring air a few blacks, to an abandoned building. As soon as they entered the building, Amuro punched Ran in the stomach, doubling her over and forcing all of her breath out.

"First rule of street fighting: Always hit first." He leapt agilely back into the room. "The winner of a street fight usually is the one who lands a blow first. Even though it's messier legally speaking, you'll have a better chance of protecting whoever you're trying to protect."

Ran rubbed her stomach gingerly, catching her breath. She imitated his movement, mirroring it perfectly.

"Now try that move on me," he said, walking quickly towards her, like he was passing her on the street.

She threw the punch, but stopped it right before it connected.

"No no no! Don't pull your punches! You have to hurt the person you're fighting or they won't stop trying to hurt you."

"Is that the second rule?" she asked, stepping back to start the approach again.

"There isn't an order to my rules beyond the first one," he said, shrugging. He started the approach again.

This time she struck. The blow lifted him off the ground, and he dropped like a sack of rice. He lay on the floor a minute, gasping. When he'd finally caught his breath again, he wryly asked, "Is your fist made of lead or something?"

"That's why I was pulling my punch. I didn't want to end our lesson so soon."

He coughed. "Probably a good idea, actually. I think that's the second hardest punch I've ever taken," he moaned.

"How about pointers, then?" Ran suggested, helping him up.

"Sure…" he thought back, trying to connect his experiences into some sort of coherent lesson, as they started back home. "If a fight is going to take more than one punch to finish, try to get your opponent surprised. When your opponent is off balance, strike the hardest, and keep the blows coming. They'll be pretty helpless to stop you stopping them. Then get them immobilized. Then you just have to intimidate them into doing what you want them to." He paused, thinking again. "Actually, just intimidating your opponent is best usually. Then you don't have to worry about all that pain. For that, just practice your acting chops."

"That sounds simple enough, but people usually aren't intimidated by a teenage girl," she pointed out.

"That's useful too though," he said. "It gives you the element of surprise, so you can hit first."

As they approached the Mouri Detective Agency, Ran asked, "Shall we do this again tomorrow then?"

"Give me a few days to heal," he laughed. "I may bring you some of my buddies to spar with next time. What do you think?"

"That'd be fine," she said, going back up the steps. She'd done it. It seemed like he'd bought her story, and he was really trying to teach her.


The next night, a small group of men and women met Ran at the door, and Conan tagged along. He'd insisted on it, after hearing that she'd be facing a bunch of Bourbon's friends. As he walked with her down the street, bundled up an embarrassing amount against the cold, he whispered in Ran's ear, "Listen to the key-tones of their cells when they dial someone. If it sounds like the first line of Nanatsu no Ko, then they're calling their boss, and we know that they're an agent."

Straightening up, she smiled and said loudly, "I don't know if I can beat them all. I'll do my best!"

Turning up his child-impression, Conan blurted out, "But Ran's the best! She always comes in first place!"

The people they were walking with chuckled. Winning karate tournaments didn't impress this lot.

In the building, their breath created the same clouds that it did outside, but they still found themselves stripping off layers as Ran faced each one. She was unfamiliar with other fighting techniques, but she was able to hold her own, even as they got rests, and she didn't. The one that gave her the most trouble was the knife wielder, who was wielding a piece of chalk to prevent serious injury, and she ended up with chalk marks all over her clothes.

Conan sat in a corner, watching. He knew that Ran was good. Her many trophies and medals were proof of that, but he hadn't known just how good she was. She was picking up moves from the people she fought, and turning them against the next person she fought. What surprised him though, was how fast many of the exchanges were. Ran was pulling her punches, but still putting her opponents down and disarming them incredibly quickly.

She was facing the knife wielder again, when a cold hand touched his shoulder. "Hey Cool Guy," the owner of the hand said.

His blood ran cold, and a sliver of icy terror struck his heart. Vermouth.

He took a few deep breaths, creating a series of large clouds before him to calm himself. "I found your little brother," he said quietly.

"Did you, now?" she asked, shading the face she was wearing from him. "How did he look?"

"Good, actually. He's happy. He misses you." Conan looked up at her, but she turned away. "Are you ready?" he whispered.

"Give me five minutes alone with Sherry," she said softly. She offered him a handshake. In her palm, he could see a slip of paper. He shook her hand, grabbing the piece of paper in the process. He quickly stuffed it into his coat pocket.

"I don't know if I can." He couldn't allow that. She'd kill Haibara, without question.

"Ask her."

He nodded and went back to watching Ran get smeared with chalk again.

That night, he spent three hours writing down everything he knew about the organization, and how he found the information out, and how it could be verified. He uploaded it to a cloud server, and emailed Ran the link. She'd earned the truth, every last bit of it.


Author's Note:


Not much of a note today, because I've been working on a series of short essays about writing Detective Conan fanfiction, and I want to give you the link: (Delete the spaces, and the word "dot" should be replaced with a period, to get past this place's link-censor.)

dreamingfifi dot dreamwidth dot org /7920 dot html