(⌐▨_▨)
A shout from Genta snapped Conan from a stupor of directionless thoughts. "Hey! Check it out!" he looked over his shoulder to see Genta holding up his rod, a fish the length and thickness of Genta's arm dangling from the line.
Heiji whistled. "That's our biggest catch yet." He popped open the cooler, half a dozen fish already inside. His chest puffed out, Genta marched up to the cooler and dropped his prized catch inside.
Propping up his fishing pole, Conan stood and stretched. "When should we go back?"
Heiji shrugged, closing the cooler with a snap. "Dunno. We could go back now, but we've got the boat for 'bout an hour. Kazuha an' nee-chan came back with it a little bit ago."
"Can we go out on the lake? The girls got their turn, so we should have ours." Mitsuhiko reeled his line in as he spoke.
Heiji looked at the boat, tied securely to the pier. After only a brief moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Sure. I'll row y'all 'round for a while." Mitsuhiko and Genta cheered. "My arms'll hurt like the devil later, though," he muttered.
Conan offered no sympathy. "Consider this karma for getting us lost."
Heiji sputtered. "I—I told ya, that wasn't my fault! The professor put in the wrong address. All I did was follow the GPS he gave ta me," he grumped. "Besides, he shoulda checked the thing before trustin' it ta me."
Conan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Blame it on the old guy." He folded up his fishing rod, storing the lure in the bait box. "Oi, Genta. Mitsuhiko. Give me hand with the cooler. We don't want to leave it here to have it stolen."
Genta put his sinker into the bait box, and he grabbed one of the cooler's handles. "You two get that, I'll carry this." With no considerable effort, he walked over and started dragging the cooler towards the boat. Luckily for him, the cooler had wheels; otherwise, he'd be unable to pull the cooler, filled with over ten pounds of fish and ice, to the edge of the boat.
As he passed Mitsuhiko, Genta whispered something into his ear. Mitsuhiko scowled as Genta snickered, but Genta ran to the boat before Mitsuhiko could retaliate.
Mitsuhiko, frowning, picked up the lure box. "One day, I'll be stronger than Genta-kun," he muttered. He squared his shoulders and marched to the boat, squeezing past Genta and Heiji. He went to step down into the boat just before Heiji grabbed him by the collar.
"Oi, Mitsuhiko-kun, what're ya thinkin'?" Heiji dropped Mitsuhiko back onto the pier, giving him an odd look. "I know ya're all energetic, but ya gotta wait. The heaviest person needs ta go in first. I hate ta burst your bubble, but that happens ta be me."
Crossing his arms, Mitsuhiko scowled at Genta. "He said that because he caught the most fish, he should get to go in first, but I know that I caught the most. His last one was just a little bigger, that's all!"
Running a hand through his hair, Conan came up behind Genta. "Why did you say something like that, Genta?" he asked, dreading the answer.
He shrugged, making his chest a little bigger and frowning. "Me and Mitsuhiko said that whoever got more fish got to ride in the boat first."
"And I caught three fish, you only go two," Mitsuhiko retorted.
"The guy at the bait shop said the little fish don't count," Genta shot back, sticking out his tongue.
"Both of you, hold it!" Conan planted himself between the two of them before a fight could break out. "How about this? Genta, you'll be the last one into the boat—" "Hey!" "—and Mitsuhiko will be the first one out." "No!"
Ignoring their protests, Conan explained. "Then Genta will get to have the most time after we're done since he got the biggest fish, and Mitsuhiko will have the most time in the boat before we leave because he caught the most fish." Silently he prayed that neither would recognize that his proposal left them with equal time in the boat. His logic was shaky at best, but maybe—
"I think that's okay," said Mitsuhiko, nodding slowly.
Genta nodded as well. "I guess. But next time, I'll catch more bigger fish than you, Mitsuhiko!" He grinned, a friendly rivalship burning in his eyes.
Mitsuhiko returned the fiery gaze. "You think I'll lose? You'll find yourself soundly defeated at the hands of my intellect!" Conan smiled proudly. Mitsuhiko had been watching those Detective Samonji discs from 'Shinichi-niichan.'
"Well, ya brats, hurry it up an' get in," Heiji said. He already sat in the middle seat, the oars resting in his lap. "We've got an hour in the boat, so let's not waste any time."
"Hai." Mitsuhiko stepped into the boat as Conan and Genta helped him keep his balance. As soon as Mitsuhiko sat down, Conan and Genta handed Heijithe fish cooler. Genta and Conan clambered into the boat, the fishing rods in Conan's backpack and the bait box in Genta's hands.
Heiji glanced at each of the kids one more time. "Y'all ready?" Taking the oars in his hands, he nodded to Mitsuhiko. "Go 'head an' undo the knot." He did just that, and Heiji dipped the oars into the water. "All passengers, keep your arms an' legs inside the boat at all times. Make sure ya've got the life jackets on real tight—" Conan trusted Genta and Mitsuhiko to put them on and focused on himself while Heiji spoke. "—and don't' fall out of the boat or ya'll get eaten by the lake monster."
"Let's go!" With a grunt, Heiji dug the oars into the water, pushing the boat forward. Bit by bit, they picked up speed, and the pier got further and further away.
The wind blew past his face, and Conan decided to take off his glasses. Genta and Mitsuhiko had seen him without them often enough, and, well, it never was a problem around Heiji. Closing his eyes, Conan breathed the scent of the lake: fish, algae, and rain all wrapped up into one.
This trip was a much-needed one, though Ran might be the only one to admit it. Kogoro barely hesitated to let them go despite an escaped convict running loose, and Inspector Megure, despite the sudden spike in criminal activity, took Kogoro on a—Conan thought he called it a business trip? Megure must've picked up on the incessant trail of bodies that follows Kogoro and decided to get him out of Tokyo for a while.
Two serial killers, four murderers, and a forced double suicide took place over the span of two weeks, the cases overlapping with up to three at a time. Kogoro ran from crime scene to crime scene, the murderers so vicious that Sleeping Kogoro pulled out all the stops to defeat them. Megure got the short end of the stick, tasked with catching both serial murderers. He called Kudou Shinichi to help him. Shinichi could only assist in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep, and Megure could only send pictures and crime scene reports. Between the two of them, it took the more part of a week to track down the serial killers.
Last Conan heard both serial killers in jail awaiting trial for the murders of fourteen people between them. The woman called herself Kijo-sama and burned eight people at the stake (her motive is still unknown), and the man left a signature of Akujin-sama in the victim's blood at each of the six crime scenes. Hayashi Chika and Kondo Norio are suspected to have worked separately and in their own interests, though their choices for aliases are what worried both Megure and Shinichi.
Constant sleepless nights, ruthless killers, and bloody, twisted crimes scenes for two weeks. Don't get misunderstand— puzzles and tricks and codes exhilarated and excited Shinichi to no end. But those two weeks were just sickening. Across all the cases, over twenty people died. He's said it before, and he'll say it again. Shinichi can see through to the how every time, but he knew he'd never understand why one person decides to kill another.
"Where should we go? Not too far out, 'cause we gotta get back ta the bait shop in time, but I'm thinkin' we can go a good distance from the shore," Heiji said.
"Ah! There's another boat!" Mitsuhiko pointed. "See? There's someone else there." He waved big over his head. "Hello!" he called to the other vessel.
A large man straightened and waved, repeating the greeting. "Hello there!" The man cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Stay where you are, I'll come to you!"
"He was there earlier," Conan said suddenly, slipping his glasses back on. "When we were collecting firewood, he was out on the lake."
"That was what, two hours ago?" Heiji asked. Conan nodded, and Heiji snorted in response. "What the heck's an old man like him doin' out here? He should be gettin' his back checked. Not sittin' in a boat all day."
Conan glanced at Heiji to see their expressions mirroring the other's. "You noticed it too?"
It was so satisfying to have someone around who's on the same intellectual level. Conan liked his friends, the ones who were his apparent age, but being around Heiji was liberating. He annoyed the heck out of him with all those name drops and he was awful at keeping secrets, but they were on the same level of competence. Conan could be as close to Kudou Shinichi as possible without incredible amounts of pain. Heiji was his best friend, second only to Ran, and he felt like himself when they worked together. It was a feeling that he didn't get too often, and it was so energizing.
"Yeah, I saw it when he waved. His shoulder looked a bit too stiff, an' when he brought hands together, his shoulders were a bit lopsided."
"Scoliosis?"
Heiji frowned. "Pro'lly. Not severe, though, 'cause he doesn't have a back brace or anythin'. Ya see the way he's slouchin'?"
"Maybe he's got one but doesn't use it when he fishes," Mitsuhiko piped up, startling both of detectives. They'd forgotten the other two were still there.
"Yeah, 'cause when you get a reaaaally big fish you've got to lean back like this." Genta demonstrated, leaning backward.
Heiji nodded thoughtfully. "Ya could be right. Ya want ta ask him?" A challenge glittered in his eyes. "If ya want ta be a detective, ya gotta know how ta ask questions."
Mitsuhiko sat up a little straighter. "I can do it!"
The other boat was much closer now. He wasn't too old, possibly in his late thirties. Nothing much of note aside from his size—he likely stood a few inches taller than Heiji, and a good deal heavier. "Welcome to my lake," said the man, rowing his boat to a stop next to them. "What brings young kids like you outside?"
"We're camping at the site back there," Mitsuhiko said, pointing back to the shore. "Mister, do you have scol-li-o-sis?" He pronounced the word carefully.
The man looked startled. Who wouldn't be? "Yes, I do, young man. How did you know?"
"Heiji-san guessed it. He said if I want to be a detective I've got to know how to ask questions." Mitsuhiko puffed himself up with pride. "And when I get big like Shinichi-san and Heiji-san I'll work with them and solve all the cases!"
The man laughed. "I'm sure you will. You seem like a smart kid. What's your name, young man?"
"Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko. Nice to meet you, mister." Mitsuhiko bowed, and he gestured to the rest of us. "These are my friends."
"Edogawa Conan." He gave a little bow.
"Kojima Genta," he said, trying to make himself look bigger than Mitsuhiko (he didn't need any help).
"My name's Hattori Heiji. I'm watchin' these kids while we wait for dinner back at camp."
The man sat up straighter and bowed, nearly hitting his head on the edge of the boat. "Hattori Heiji-kun, it's an honor to meet you!"
Conan exchanged glances with Heiji. Fan of yours?
Heiji smirked. Jealous?
Conan deadpanned. Not at all.
The man straightened, grinning like a fangirl meeting Conan's (real) mother. "I've followed your work for years—"
Conan quirked an eyebrow. You've been working that long?
Heiji shrugged in response. Mostly helping Dad.
"—and it's a real honor to meet you. My name is Akagi Taichi, I live with my wife and brother on the hill over there." He pointed to the other side of the lake. "My editors are picky people, but I've published articles on each of your cases. Murders, suicides, arsons—you've got an amazing track record. Your work with Kudou Shinichi, too—" Conan choked. "—I've compiled all the cases at my house."
Heiji smiled nervously. "That's… cool, Akagi-han. I'll betcha Kudou doesn't have anyone like ya on his side."
"Speaking of Kudou Shinichi, I wanted to ask—what are your feelings on the matter of his long case? Do you believe the rumors that say he's dead?" He'd whipped out a notepad faster than one could blink, his eyes narrowed with intense determination, his hand holding a pen like a samurai would a sword.
Conan could tell Hattori was trying not to look at him. He's going to last long, thought Conan with a pinch of fear. "We're not supposed to talk about Shinichi-niichan!" Conan blurted out, saving Heiji's hide. Akagi snapped his attention away from Heiji and to the younger boy. "He's in a really dangerous place, and… he said he doesn't like people talking about him!"
"Is that true?" Akagi looked to Heiji for confirmation.
Heiji shrugged sheepishly. "All I can tell ya is he's on a case, supposedly dead. I know he's not, but if word gets out Kudou's alive an' kickin'," he laughed without humor, "a whole lotta people 're gonna need police protection 'round the clock."
Akagi shrugged, relaxing back into his seat. He set down the notepad and pencil behind him and stretched. "If that's the case, I'll stop asking around. I don't want to endanger the high school detectives that provide such thrilling article material." Resting his arms on his legs, Akagi met Heiji's eyes. "I'll be sure to keep that missing persons ad on my bulletin board. My late father was an officer. I understand the dangers of too much publicity."
Heiji nodded gratefully. "That means a lot, Akagi-han. Thank ya."
Mitsuhiko looked at Akagi and Heiji. "Should we go back soon?" he asked. "I don't remember when the boat place closes."
Heiji shook his head. "We've still got half an hour left with the boat. Ya don't need ta worry. 'Nother fifteen minutes an' we'll go back."
"I advise you return now," said Akagi, starling Conan with the severity in his tone. "There's a storm brewing in the east. It'll break by sunset. You said you were camping?" Heiji nodded. A frown crossed Akagi's face. "Unless you're on top of a hill, return now. There was a big storm two days ago. I don't think the ground's recovered from it. Make sure you're far away from the river down there, or else you'll get swept away," he warned.
As if on cue, the wind started to pick up. An odd cloud went in front of the sun, casting the deep blue lake into shadow. Birds stopped chirping, and crickets started to sing across the lake. Somewhere far away, a murder of crows screeched and wailed above all other birds before going silent altogether.
Taking the oars in his hands, Akagi inclined his head once more to Heiji. "If you need shelter, come to my house. I'm sure my wife would be happy to let you in."
Heiji narrowed his eyes for a fraction of a second; he'd noticed the odd wording as well.
"Akagi-san, wouldn't you be home if we visit your house?" Conan asked, raising the pitch of his voice ever so slightly. Conan's innocent curiosity took the reins, disguising Shinichi's intents just below the surface.
Akagi offered a smile. "I expect to be asleep by the time you come around. I promise I won't be out here much longer." An odd note of apprehension danced around the edges of his voice, enticing the detective's spirit within Conan. He knew Heiji felt it too. Even without looking at the other, they knew what they were going to do tonight.
"Stay safe, Akagi-han," Heiji said, taking up the oars once more. "An' if ya need anythin', feel free ta call my cell. I'd give it ta ya, but I suspect ya already have it." He grinned, pulled the brim of his hat forward against the wind. "See ya."
"Goodbye," Akagi called as he rowed further away. "Stay dry!"
ヽ(*´∀`)ﾉ┌┛
Ran stood by the fire, watching the fillets sizzle and pop as they reached perfection. There was something satisfying about cooking fish over a fire- the way the flames licked at the raw meat, the grease and fat that pooled and bubbled around the base of the fillets, and the smell, savory with a smell like rain and a touch of smoke- all of it made her mouth water.
More often than not, she bought their meat raw and cooked it at home, but it was a rare treat to cook outdoors. Agasa bought it for the trip: a metal grill that sat over the fire, keeping the flames just close enough to heat the metal grating without charring the food to a pile of ashes and cinder. A bit of smoke and charred, crispy meatiness were the perfect accents to any outdoor cooked meal. That didn't mean meals of entirely blackened inedibleness were the goal.
As she flipped the fillets over, checking each one for uncooked areas, a pair of noisy Osakans came bustling through. They were deeply engrossed in a heated debate. Ran doubted they noticed her presence.
"A new bet," Heiji insisted. "The last one wasn't fair, Kazuha. Ya had me keep Conan-kun around me for a straight four hours. Ya know the kind of luck the two of us have together!"
Kazuha shook her head, her chin lifted high in triumph. "Not a chance. Ya agreed ta the terms when I gave 'em ta ya, so ya gotta hold up your end o' the bargain."
He got in front of her, walking backwards to look her in the face. "C'mon, even if I told ya yes, when do ya 'spect me ta do it? Ya know Dad's gonna work me ragged when we get back. I'm still in trouble for visitin' Tokyo last week ta help out Ku-nan-kun an' Mouri-occhan."
"Well, I know he'll let ya off in nine days. Take me then, and we'll be even."
He frowned. "What's in nine days?"
She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. "Did ya forget?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer. When he offered none, she groaned. "Of course ya'd forget! 'Cause ya're an idiot who can't think of anything but crime scenes!" She threw up her arms in exasperation, storming past Heiji.
"Oi, Kazuha!" He turned and ran after her. "What is it? Tell me...!"
The pair walked further away, out of earshot, and Ran allowed a smile. Kazuha and Heiji brought energy everywhere they went. She had to hand it to Kazuha- Shinichi was bad enough with his incessant bad luck, but he'd 'only' been shot twice. Ran thought herself lucky that she could count his major injuries on one hand (she'd need the other hand to include Conan's injuries, but she was not opening that can of worms). Heiji, on the other hand, seemed to have this affinity for getting hurt. Ran could, in her recent memory, think of more than a dozen times Heiji had needed some kind of immediate medical attention. The worst was a woman who took a knife and sliced down the length of his bicep. The cut wasn't deep enough to cause any permanent damage, but Kazuha said he wore long sleeves a little more often.
He wouldn't talk about the case, either, and he'd been quieter than normal in the week or since. The most she got out of him was that his parents were keeping him out of cases for a month as punishment.
It was another reason for this trip. While Conan needed an escape from two weeks of pure death and deductions, Heiji needed an escape from his parents with their high expectations. Kazuha and Ran knew their boys well and put together such a trip almost overnight. Considering the energy Heiji and Kazuha exuded, Ran could, with a sound mind, say the trip was serving its purpose.
The clatter of wood attracted her attention. Conan dropped a large pile of sticks next to the fire pit. Judging by the size, Ran marveled that he'd been able to carry it at all.
He scratched his cheek, sheepishly giving a half-smile. "It looked like the flames were getting a little low, and there aren't enough coals to keep the grill warm." He tossed a few sticks into the pit.
"Thank you, Conan-kun." she smiled warmly. "You're becoming so big and strong. One day, I'll bet you'll tower over even Hattori-kun."
His smile froze on his face as he nodded, hummed in response. Ran frowned as he stared into the fire, refusing to meet her eyes.
"What's wrong?" she asked at last, her voice soft. He shook his head, bit his lip. For a long moment, he didn't say anything.
After a few beats, words began to flow from his mouth, careful, calculated. "When Shinichi-niichan left, he told me to make sure Ran-neechan was safe while he was gone. He told me he'd be back really soon, before I left first grade." Conan swallowed. "But the first grade is almost over. And the taller I get, the longer he's been gone, and the longer he's been making Ran-neechan sad."
She didn't respond. The words failed to come to mind. Anything she thought of sounded like a half-baked sugary sweet comfort food: enough to rid the bitterness from the moment, but everyone who tried it would be sick to their stomach.
He continued, nervously fingering his glasses. "I wanted to grow up in America, but I can't go back until Shinichi-niichan comes home."
She couldn't help it: a moan of pity escaped her lips as she dropped to her knees, wrapping Conan in a hug. "You can leave me whenever you need to. You know that, right? All I need to know is that you're alive and safe, and you can go wherever you need to."
"But- Ran-neechan," he murmured, "I don't want to leave you alone."
She didn't bother to wipe the tears welling in her eyes as she met his. "Then tell that mystery geek to stop worrying so much about me and focus on his case. The sooner he gets back, the sooner I can take him by the ears and kick him so hard he'll never be able to leave me alone ever again." No malice or anger accompanied her words; rather, love carefully, quietly escorted her message and carried it to the other's heart.
Before Conan could respond, Ran remembered who she was supposed to be talking to. This was Conan. Her little brother, Shinichi's old apprentice. He was a tie between the two of them that neither had known existed until Shinichi disappeared. But he wasn't Shinichi. He shouldn't be burdened with the struggles that came about from a long-distance-maybe-I'll-see-you-but-maybe-I'm-dead-and-maybe-I'll-never-come-back-for-good-but-I-lov-
She dried her eyes. "I'm sorry. You don't have to worry. Shinichi will come back soon. He keeps his promises." Conan still looked unconvinced, so she gave another brighter-than-a-sun-beam smile. "Will you go get everyone else? Dinner's just about ready, and we need to set up the tables."
Another hesitant nod, a concerned glance back over his shoulder before he left. "You can count on me, Ran-neechan!"
She'd never know who that childish voice was meant for. Was it for himself? To serve as a reminder of all his shortcomings, that no matter how hard he tried, he was still only six years old?
Or was it for her? To prove that somewhere beneath the unnatural intelligence, the strange habits of running into crime scenes, the indescribable resemblance between the two, that there was just a little boy who only ever wanted to be like his older cousin.