Last edited in July 2019.
.-.-.-.
Contrary to popular belief, high-school detective Kudō Shinichi wasn't an only child.
However, it wasn't as though he had been hiding this fact, at least not initially. Everyone had just assumed it, and for various reasons, Shinichi had neglected to correct them.
That said, Shinichi had intended on telling Mōri Ran on a number of occasions. However, he had ended up putting it off, again and again and again. At this point, Shinichi felt that it would be really awkward to confess that he had a younger brother now, roughly seven years after the fact.
Still, considering his plan to confess to Ran, either at Tropical Land or at some later occasion, Shinichi knew that the issue of his yet to be introduced younger brother would have to be breached eventually. It would after all be better for Shinichi to break the news to her than risk having Ran meet his younger clone without proper preparation. Then again, calling him a clone is a bit‒ "Say, Ran‒"
"Let's ride that one next," Ran interrupted, pointing to the rollercoaster. Then she grabbed him by the arm and physically tugged him towards it.
Shinichi allowed himself to be tugged along; the issue could wait for a while yet.
But then there was another case, distracting him, and then there were the men dressed in black, distracting him further.
Caught up in the moment, Shinichi had parted with Ran and hid.
There, from his hiding spot, he had become witness to a shady business deal gone south, and he had been too absorbed in watching to notice the man sneaking up on him. By the time he noticed, it was already too late.
The blow to his head was heavy. What followed was an incoherent mixture of flashes, of heat and of absolute agony; something about a drug, some poison forced down his throat, and then‒
It all ended.
"Ran," he thought, and then: "Conan."
.-.-.-.
The Kudō couple had always known that their two sons were perfectly extraordinary.
Despite the age difference, Conan and Shinichi had fairly similar interests: mysteries and detective stories. However, while Shinichi had moved on to become the Heisei Holmes, the Saviour of the Police Force, Conan had gone down a similar, yet strangely divergent path.
"What are you doing?"
The child continued with his game, even as a frowning and semi-transparent figure leaned closer.
"Hey, kid‒"
The child, Kudō Conan, ignored the spectre and continued playing the game; he wasn't really that into it, but he played it in order to distract himself from the numerous spectres; the one beside him as well as those shuffling about in the reception hall.
Conan would rather have gone somewhere else really, but since his luggage had yet to turn up, he had to wait. And speaking of things that had yet to turn up−
Conan put his game away and pulled out his new cell phone. There were no new messages, no missed calls. Conan sighed and put the phone back and then looked up at the clock.
Shinichi was supposed to have turned up half an hour ago. Not that Conan was surprised by the no-show or anything; he knew his brother far too well to feel surprised.
Conan snorted softly to himself. He would give it thirty more minutes; if his luggage had shown up by then, Conan would simply get a cab. If Conan's mental calculations were correct, then the pocket money his parents had given him for the trip would just about cover it. And, speaking of parents−
Most parents would probably have shied away from the thought of putting a soon to be seven-year-old boy alone on a flight from Los Angeles to Narita International Airport, Japan. Some would have viewed it as irresponsible, no doubt.
However, fact remained that Conan had a good head on his shoulders, and that aircraft personnel had been enlisted to ensure that he did not get lost mid transit. Even now, there was someone keeping an eye on him, trying to act subtle in a way that made their presence glaringly obvious to anyone who knew what to look for.
Granted, Conan's experience with people – living people, that is – was somewhat limited, but he wasn't exactly dense; it was rather the opposite, really. He was just… weird; mature for his age and well-behaved for the most part, yes, but uncanny, from what he himself had perceived. His gaze in particular made a lot of people uncomfortable, including those tasked with watching over him.
All things considered, this was probably the reason why Conan was here whereas they were all the way over there. Conan still appreciate it though; being given some space. Now if only incorporeal spectres could show him the same courtesy, things would be great, really.
Absentmindedly, Conan wondered if his silent watchers – the corporeal ones, that is – would step out and help him with his bags when the time came. After all, whether in possession of a good head or not, with a child's body, Conan could only do so much.
His parents liked to joke about Conan being the most mature one in the family despite being the youngest, and in a way, this was somewhat accurate, but only somewhat.
Shinichi meanwhile was good at what he did, but he was too flashy, too reckless. One day, Shinichi's cockiness would eventually come back to haunt him – or even worse, Conan, because that was how things usually turned out.
.-.-.-.
Sliding into the passenger seat of Professor Agasa's yellow beetle, Conan could not help but wonder. Then, as the old man himself slid back into the car after putting way the luggage, Conan finally asked the inevitable question: "Is it another case?"
Conan didn't ask Did he forget? or Was there something more important? Because, despite the time they have spent apart, Conan knew his older brother; focused but easily distracted. All things considered, perhaps it ran in the family.
The professor shrugged mildly. "He wasn't home, so I guess he‒"
Conan didn't bother listening to the rest and pulled out his Gameboy again.
The ride was mostly quiet after that, in spite of the professor's occasional attempt at engaging Conan in conversation. The professor kept talking about some games, other inventions of his and whatnot, clearly indicating that Conan ought to take some part in testing them.
Conan honestly wouldn't mind that, because it would surely be more enjoyable than starting grade school and socialising with people his own age.
Coming to think of it, the latter was no doubt some ploy of his mother, intended to pull Conan out of his self-imposed isolation.
Going by what Shinichi and others had told him about grade school, it definitely wouldn't be fun. But no, mother and father had insisted that Conan should go live with Shinichi and attend school in Beika as opposed to getting homeschooled, the method of schooling Conan would have privately preferred. Of course, going against Kudō Yukiko on something like this would have been a frustrating and ultimately fruitless endeavour, which was why Conan had eventually accepted his fate, at least for now.
"Conan."
Conan sucked in a startled breath, feeling chills all over as the professor pulled up outside the Kudō residence. There were no lights in the windows.
"Looks like Shinichi isn't back yet…"
Feeling cold all over, Conan steeled himself and undid his seatbelt, getting out of the car. He took one of the bags from Professor Agasa and followed the professor to his house instead.
.-.-.-.
In the morning, Conan had more or less expected to see his brother's semi-transparent figure at his bedside, looking at him with a fond yet decidedly pained expression. Similarly, Conan had expected to ask the other if the police had found his body yet or if Conan ought to help by pointing them in the right direction.
But surprisingly, that was not the case. Instead, there was Professor Agasa, wearing a decidedly sombre expression which made him look older than usual. "It's about Shinichi."
It had always been about Shinichi, but Conan wasn't particularly fond of the limelight, so it was alright. Still‒
Conan sat himself up, reached for the glasses that he didn't really need and put them on. "So?"
.-.-.-.