'm alive! Really. Most of the time. The rest of the time I'm a draugr, apparently, since I'm not infectious like a zombie. Anyway. I've finally gotten to this part, or, well, part of this part. Do please point out any horrible mistakes, I'm not entirely coherent and don't have a beta, so I usually screen for my own mistakes but I'm not thinking clearly enough for that to be reliable. So. Anyway, here.

Chapter 6

"Conan…" Kaito hesitated, eying the envelope in his hands warily. If they hadn't been in the street outside the Kudo manor, he would have used 'Shinichi', since this situation seemed to call for it.

Conan's eyes sharpened on seeing the paper in his hands, alarmed recognition flickering in his gaze even though his face stayed clear. "Kaito, can we go home, now?" he asked in English, playing the part he'd claimed.

"Aa, of course, Conan. You must be tired." It was a long walk for a six-year-old, even one as scarily durable as Conan. Well, aside from his immune system, anyway, and there was something that bugged Kaito about the envelope, a niggling familiarity that he couldn't quite place. He hadn't seen it before, but he was sure he'd heard about it. From Shinichi, at that.

An hour later, they were home and Shinichi dropped all pretenses and told Kaito to call Hakuba, opening the envelope with steady, pale fingers.

Kaito did as ordered, mainly because Shinichi didn't give orders without a very good reason, and a puzzled Hakuba assured he was on his way before Kaito returned his attention to his miniature partner. "What is it?"

"Do you remember the Moonlight Sonata murders on Tsukikage Island that I told you about? The ones from when I hadn't been Conan very long?"

He did, but he hadn't heard anything about them this time around. He'd assumed something had changed and headed them off… but the tone and the grim gaze directed at the letter in Shinichi's too-small hands—a letter made up of kanji clipped from magazines and newspapers and ended with Asoh Keiji's name—said otherwise. Not headed off, then… merely delayed.

"I see. That's why we need Hakuba here, then?"

Shinichi nodded, "I can talk to Seiji-kun… before the murders start, if we hurry. I hope. I'll need the music that Asoh Keiji locked in his safe as the house burned down for proof, but it's in the old records in Tsukikage's city hall—it might be worth setting up a small heist if Hakuba can't come. We've been given until the next full moon, so…"

"That's two weeks. We'd better get a move on returning the book and heading off Togano, then."

"Agh," Shinichi sighed, setting the letter down and rubbing both hands over his face. "Why is it that this is happening now?"

Kaito offered an apologetic shrug, sitting down next to his mini-detective and pulling him into a hug—one good thing about Shinichi being Conan-sized. He was easier to manhandle without getting mauled.

Shinichi squirmed viciously for a few seconds before surrendering, leaning into the hug with a sigh. "Well. That music is enough evidence to get the men who were murdered last time arrested instead, at least. So long as Seiji-kun doesn't do anything irreversible, this might be for the best, timing-wise."

Kaito gave the little form in his arms a gentle squeeze before standing up, ignoring the squawk and vague flailing. "Come on," he chirped instead, "Food time!"

He got a socked foot to the diaphragm for his troubles, and even without terror-shoes or hard rubber, it was enough to drive the air from his lungs in a startled 'oof'. His grip loosened, and Conan glared up at him from where he'd landed neatly on his feet.

Kaito only grinned unrepentantly, glad to see Shinichi getting his old Conan-fire back. That was one bit of the faux-child that Kaito had missed as time and stress chipped it away—how much vindictive pleasure Conan could take in any challenge to him. Even when the viciousness was directed at him, it was fun—Conan was never boring. When so small, Shinichi had possessed very few viable vents for his frustrations and equally few options to use his intelligence that didn't involve subverting the police force to his will from behind the scenes.

Shinichi was… nicer than Conan had been, in many ways. As much of a masochist as it probably made him, Kaito had enjoyed the savage ferocity a compact Shinichi could bring to bear. It was even more fun when aimed at someone else, but Kaito would take what he could get, including riling the beast when he was the only target in sight.

(Ten minutes later, he could only be relieved when the doorbell rang. He'd forgotten an important detail: Shinichi hadn't learned actual mahou until post-Conan the first time around. Conan was scary. Conan with gadgets was terrifying. Conan with magic was horrifying, and Kaito was only now beginning to realize how accurate his movie comparison was.

On the up-side, he probably didn't have to worry too much about mini-Shinichi's safety. Anyone dumb enough to take him head-on deserved what they got for it.)

xxxx

Hakuba wasn't sure what to expect when arriving at the Kuroba house, as the call he'd received had been… Kuroba had sounded serious. So, he hadn't been expecting Kuroba to come barreling out of the house only to duck behind him, looking equal parts terrified and gleeful.

Not quite sure he wanted to know, he looked into the open door.

Well. That explained Kuroba's attempts at using him as a human shield, Hakuba noted in a distant part of his mind, most of his attention on the ball that Conan was tossing up and catching with one hand, a light smile on his face. This, of course, wouldn't have been at all alarming—a fairly standard move to either a child with a round toy or any baseball or softball enthusiast… except that the ball seemed to be made of fire.

Hakuba tried to come up with a better response than incoherent gibbering, because it was one thing to see Kuroba or Kid pull that kind of stunt and entirely another to see a six-year-old do it. With Kuroba or Kid, the automatic assumption was 'some kind of magician's trick' (or had been before the 'Introduction to Mahou 101' that a magician and detective duo had put him through), but even the best magician wouldn't allow young, finger-clumsy children to learn fire tricks.

There was also the distant awareness that behind those glass-covered blue eyes was Kudo Shinichi's mind. Which meant that was either real or illusionary fire, but either way it was magic of the non-trick variety and Hakuba wanted nothing to do with it.

The boy in the doorway tilted his head, evaluated Kuroba's position peering over Hakuba's shoulder (Hakuba valiantly did not Judo-throw him in front of the tiny predator), and shrugged, catching the fireball again before clenching his fingers through it and snuffing it out. "Eh, I'll get him later," he decided aloud.

Hakuba suddenly found himself understanding what Kuroba meant by 'Conan's not Shinichi'.

xxxx

"Sorry for the welcome, Hakuba-kun," Shinichi offered up a cup of black tea as reparation. "Kaito knows how I get like this, so he annoys me until I snap. It's a strangely effective stress relief."

When Hakuba gave Kaito a look of blatant incredulity, Kaito grinned sheepishly and shrugged, "I forgot he knows magic, now."

Shinichi blinked, considering that. He was going to have to brush up on his skills—as few as they actually were in the 'effecting the physical world' part, there were plenty of situations that would have been a lot easier to handle with magic, even just the illusionary type. He generally tried not to use it unless it was needed—or practice, because there was no reason to let even the most outrageously mind-bending skill stagnate—but at Conan-size, 'needed' would crop up more often. He didn't have the physical capabilities to do quite a few things, but mental… illusions were all mental.

He smiled, "I'm sure it will come in handy. Anyway," he picked up the letter and passed it to Hakuba, "this is why we called you."

He let his fellow detective read the letter before explaining the situation and what had—or rather, hadn't, this time—happened. The situation on Tsukikage was one that had left a lasting mark on Shinichi—one of the first where a suspect had committed suicide, and the only one where that suspect had done so in such a horribly painful manner, flinging 'Conan' to safety while staying behind to die in the flames.

He didn't want it to happen again.

(You couldn't undo death, and so many had died that time.)

Hakuba set the letter on the table, frowning as he sat back and picked up his tea, holding the handle-less mug thoughtfully, "They invited Kudo Shinichi, but it's obvious he can't attend… although the disappearance has been kept out of the news, now that I think on it. Kuroba having gotten and read the letter is, of course, perfectly legal, and choosing another detective of his acquaintance as a stand-in would not be unexpected with his husband 'unavailable'."

Shinichi nodded, "Exactly."

"Two weeks?"

"No," Shinichi refuted. "That's when the murders will start. Seiji-kun said he wouldn't have done it if he'd known ahead of time that his father had wanted him to live and be happy. We can take care of it this weekend—I'll have to trust he's still acting because he thinks his father wanted revenge. If we get the message to him, he should stop."

Hakuba nodded, "All right. I'll clear my schedule."

"Great!" Kaito clapped his hands once, "Meet us here Saturday morning—and, yes, we're skipping those classes. Arrange ahead of time."

Hakuba agreed easily, obviously of the same opinion as Shinichi and Kaito that life was worth more than school, and Shinichi gently bullied him into staying for dinner.

Kaito laughed and chopped ingredients while Hakuba did the actual stove-watching, Shinichi acting as the Cook Commander and giving instructions from the table.

Two days later, the three headed out to catch a boat to Tsukikage Island.

(An hour after that, an unmarked envelope was dropped into the Kuroba house's mailbox. No one was home to find it.)

xxxx