Ah, the bittersweet visions of nostalgia. A time when memories paint ghosts of the past over familiar areas in the present. And presently, I stand in the streets of my old home. Osaka.

Each round the Track Tournament is hosted in different spots around Japan, all far from Beika, yet each relatively close to Osaka. So, here we stay to save money on travel.

"Wow!" A guy perched atop the fence chuckled upon the sight of me and my fellow competitors. "Such a nice collection of ladies! What's the occasion?"

My best guess, based on his uniform, is that he came from the school nearby. Ekoda High School.

Far from interested in entertaining any distractions, as it is three races away from the finals, the other competitors turned a blind eye to him. However, mid leg-stretch, I faltered. Landing flat on my bottom as we made eye-contact. He quickly approached upon noticing that he had my attention. My eyes grew wider the closer he got.

Shinichi.

When did Shinichi get here? Why does he look like that? Messy hair, wrong unif—

"May I interest you in a magic trick?" He asked innocently enough.

That jarred me back to the present. "Huh?" Shinichi and... magic?

He set three cups on the bench, throwing dice underneath two as he did. "Keep your eye on the die." As he spun the cups around, the differences hit me. Subtle features slightly altered; hair, mouth, posture, speech. He may not be Shinichi, but the similarities are indeed frightening. Still, now that I could get over the initial shock, there was something about him. Some familiar glint in his eye I know I've seen somewhere before...

"Now," he smirked. "Which one doesn't have a die?"

Oops, forgot to watch. I hesitated, then picked at random.

"Correct!" he lifted the remaining two to reveal they had all been emptied.

I gasped, checking the cups, and asking, "how'd you do that?!"

He snickered mischievously, basking in my confusion, when a girl in a uniform stopped before us. She spat out her tongue, revealing one of the two missing dice.

While applause collected from the spectators around, I nearly fell out of my chair. Bedhead aside, this girl is Ran's clone!

"Kaito!" Her fists shook under restraint at her sides. "When I said no more tricks, that includes dragging me into ones you do on others!"

"Aw, Aoko, why not play along?" Kaito reached behind her ear, and there was the other die. "See?"

The applause erupted once again with more vigor.

"Thank you!" Kaito bowed. "However, I implore you, please instead praise my lovely assistant!"

So we did, and Aoko blushed, stammering, "W-well, I—"

"For the finale!" Kaito announced, draped a curtain over Aoko, then yanked away to reveal her uniform now one similar to ours. Short shorts, tank top, tennis shoes. "Now, ladies and gentlemen." He bowed. "I run." then fled.

"Bakaito!" Aoko, vibrantly flushed from head to toe, and pursued the foolhardy magician down the track.

As the chase ensued, I stared, traumatized by this establishment. A high school of doppelgangers. If I were to visit, would I find someone with something in common with me? I promptly popped that thought. Accepting two Ran's and Shinichi's is doable, but two Keiko's? Impossible.

Although. I smiled at the dice abandoned on the bench. Magic. It's been awhile since— oh! The mime! That's who this Kaito reminds me of. I watched Kaito scurry over the fence with Aoko at his heels. And speaking of, Shinichi informed me that a jewelry store in the area had been struck by Kaito Kid not soon after... could it be? By the cuff of his pants Aoko caught him, leaving even spectators cringing at the results. Nah, couldn't be... I wryly thought.

Since a few days of rest are allotted to the competitors between races, my free time is spent reminiscing down the paths I used to travel. Sinking so deep into memories that the present slapped me back to reality with:

"Shinichi hasn't been attending class?" I questioned Ran over the phone.

"Yeah." When I paused, she continued, "sorry, I thought you should know. After Tropical Land, he vanished. Agasa says not to worry, so I'm trusting his word since I can't reach Shinichi's phone. But..."

"What?"

She sharply chuckled, "given how you two are, I thought he somehow ended up with you. Guess not..."

I attempted a laugh of my own then said, "listen, I'm gonna try an' call em."

"Alright," she replied. "Bye"

After taking in a deep breath, I dialed Shinichi's number. Thinking, maybe I'm overreacting. "It'll be fine if I hear his voice at least once..." So, I rang him up. Five tries, no answer. "I wanted to hear his voice, his darn automated message doesn't count!"

So, I tried Agasa.

Yet a rather feminine, "hello?" answered instead.

I pulled my cell away, confirming the number before asking, "Professor?"

That's when her voice became distant, saying, "Professor, it's for you."

And Agasa picked up. "Yes?"

A woman at Agasa's, answering the phone like it's normal, meaning... meaning... "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." He laughed. "The one who you spoke to previously is a child I'm looking after named Ai."

Oh, wow, that did not sound like a kid. So, I countered my own embarrassment for jumping to conclusions by teasing him instead, "you? Looking after a kid?"

He cleared his throat. "...She's very well behaved."

"Professor, I called cause I can't get a hold of Shinichi. Do you know anything?

"To the best of my knowledge, Shinichi's away on a case," he answered rather skittishly.

So, I persisted. "Ran said he hasn't been attending school since the day he disappeared at Tropical Land. That's been weeks, Professor. You're his neighbor, h-he trusts you with things, surely you know something?"

"I'm sure he's fine, Keiko."

"But something's not right—"

"Give Shinichi some time, perhaps he's busy. It's probably nothing."

I clenched my fists, don't reassure me, help me! "Then when's the last time you've heard from him?" I snapped.

"Ah, no, that," he stammered. "I promise, he's fine. I, that is, he spoke to me not long ago. Not to mention the number of times I've seen him in person since then. In fact, I'm looking at him right now—" suddenly his breath hitched.

"Then put him on," I urged.

"I can't!" Agasa blurted. "He- he's on the toilet!"

"...Professor," I paused, unsure of how to ask. "Are you watching him—?"

"No!" He shouted. "I meant, Shinichi excused himself to the restroom only a moment ago! Considering his urgency, I'd hate to bother—" He went on, offering excuses by the dozen, probably hoping I'd give up with at least one.

Why?

Why won't he give me a straight answer?

"Agasa, if he's not there you don't have to lie!" I exhaled through my nose, a feeble attempt to calm down. "This whole time, I'd never even thought something could be wrong, and..." Dread welled within me. The whole experience parallel to the time I nearly lost Grandma. "If he's not been there, tell me, that's all I want to know..."

Agasa audibly sighed. "Keiko. This... Shinichi can't..."

The call breezily transitioned from Agasa to, "what's the matter with you? Can't I have a second of peace?"

The sudden shift threw me into a state of disbelief. I asked, "Shinichi?"

And got, "obviously!" as a reply.

Relief flooded through me as I said, "thank goodness." Then I realized, "wait, why haven't you called? Geez, I got all worried for nothing."

Shinichi hesitated a beat then told me, "it's not that I didn't want to..."

His words, riddled with dejection, encouraged a gentler tone out of me. "It's fine. I'm happy listening to your voice now. Knowing you're okay."

"Keiko..."

"Yep," I worked up a giggle. "Still as goofy as I remember."

Shinichi chuckled. "You and I hear things very differently."

"Then how about some Karaoke? We'll playback our voices and see how different my hearing is then."

"Can't pass up the opportunity to prove me wrong? How harsh..." He countered, then said, "let's do it." After we shared a laugh, he asked, "have you been well?"

"It's been tough," I admitted. "I've never seen so much talent concentrated into one area. But all things considered, I'm doing fine."

A smile carried through his tone, "that's good."

"And you? Seen any cases lately; got a few tales to tell?"

"Oh man," he roughly exhaled. "Where to begin?"

Little to my expectations, Shinichi was not exaggerating. Not even a year, yet he's run into an almost innumerable amount of cases. He emphasized the parts he knew I enjoyed; the tricks, the light of each situation, and so on. Like normal. Except, a new element found it's way into our conversations. Humor. And not the typical silly antics. More along the lines of a humor which hides a deeper meaning. The type which asks you to laugh and not question why the story sounds a little wrong.

A little comfort can be found in small things which never change. Trees grow, flowers wither, pets pass. However, streets remain, and forever guide me faithfully to my intended destinations. Yet roaming about this place I used to call home leaves the strangest feeling in my chest. Two years away, and so soon, I've become an outsider. Maybe it's the color of my hair... I know, silly excuse. However, what else could explain the lack of recognition in the eyes of those neighbors I used to know so well? How important was I that they forgot me so easily?

Coming onto an intersection, a girl passed by. Shoulders tight, fists clenched, mumbling heatedly below her breath. Clearly hunting down someone specific. Contrary, her ponytail tossed cheerfully to and fro. And she wore a look that was so— well, to say the least, she looked familiar.

I turned the corner ahead, and conspicuously leaned against a wall. Turning my head, and noticeably watching her, even whistling suggestively when she passed by. That show of behavior couldn't have been more suspicious. Poor girl already had tunnel-vision.

So, I followed her, humming a tune to alert her to my presence. Wondering how long it'd take her to notice, when she slackened her pace. Perhaps hoping I'd pass by. No. We kept at it, decelerating until we stopped.

She whirled around, shouting, "now, see here—!" Till I happily waved, and morphed her sour disposition into jubilation. "Keiko?!"

"Kazuha?!" I playfully mimicked.

"You-" Kazuha threaded her fingers through my hair. "Highlights?"

"No. At one point I had it completely blonde, but since then it's grown, making it half old and half—"

Without warning she took me into an embrace. "I missed you!"

I returned the expression, admitting, "I missed you too."

She extended me to arms length. "How've ya been?! Are ya visiting from America or?"

"Visiting, technically. Truth be told, I've been living in Beika for almost a year now. What about you?"

"That's so much closer! We can visit now." Her smile faded on the next part. "At the moment I'm looking for Heiji." She huffed. "I can't believe him."

Anxiously my eyes scanned the immediate area. "What'd he do?"

"Three days I've been searchin' for my lucky cup." Kazuha's face burned red. "And today I found it broken, in the back of my panty drawer!"

"Um..." in an attempt to clarify, I asked, "are you upset that he broke your lucky cup, or that he saw your panties?"

"Both!"

"How are you so sure he's the culprit?"

"He bolted when I pointed it out."

Escape. A sure sign of guilt. Heiji, you impulsive idiot... However, vengeance can go nowhere, so I tried coaxing her to think this through. "Maybe he broke it by accident? You know how Heiji gets. A ball of nerves, too proud to admit to mistakes."

"I don't care! He didn't havta hide it. I might've forgiven him if it were only that, but Keiko, my panty drawer!"

"Got it, I'll help ya search."

Kazuha nodded then briskly left, wrath visibly resurfacing with each step.

Now, being the clever kid Heiji thinks he is, he would hide, not run. Thinking he has psychology on his side, by knowing that Kazuha would expect him to be somewhere she'd never look, like the Tsutenkaku Tower. So, she'd search there, unbeknownst to her that he's aware of that, and would therefore choose to hide in the most obvious place instead. A place she knows he'd never be so stupid to huddle away at. Meaning, he's probably all cozied up in his own room.

My heart rate steadily climbed the closer I came to his home. Although knowing he's probably expecting Kazuha, instead of knocking, I let myself in the front door. Then his room. But, He's not here?

I know my deductions can't match up to a detective's, but hanging around Shinichi should've given me something. Still, I wandered into his abode, a floodgate of childhood memories coming alive since his decor has changed little if not at all.

A hat sitting atop his desk informed me that his attire hasn't seen many alterations as well. I grabbed the SAX hat to try it on. Adjusting the bill when a hand grabbed my shoulder. "Ya know, some people get lice doin' that."

The unexpected comment elicited a rather undignified "eep!" from me.

"A burglar in my home, and yer spooked?" He turned me 'round, processing my face for mere seconds before asking, "Keiko?"

And I could finally breathe. "Yeah. H-hey, Heiji."

"No way!" He beat my back with a force that screamed brotherly affection. "It's been years. How've ya been?!"

The agony. My years as a tomboy slapping me in the face like this. I sucked up my pride to answer him, "Good, probably better than you. I heard from Kazuha..."

"Ah." He itched his nose, eyeing the far wall. "That."

"Really Heiji?" I crossed my arms. "Her panty drawer?"

He nervously chuckled, gritting his teeth. "Say Keiko, you're a girl."

"I'm a girl," I repeated sarcastically.

"What's the safe way outta this? How would you want me to apologize?"

"Well..."

"I regret askin' ya anything," Heiji glowered. My solution turned into Heiji buying Kazuha a new cup. Special, with her name printed on the side. But, "In bold letters on the bottom it says Love." A shallow rush of red stained his cheeks. "She's gonna take it the wrong way!"

"Calm," I told him. "That's the brand name. Besides, her name is incredibly hard to find on stuff like that. You should be grateful I knew where to look."

Heiji took to staring at me.

"What?"

"Would you really want me to apologize like this?"

"No."

"Wha—" He flexed his hands. "Then why?!"

"Cause replacements are nice." I shoved him onto Kazuha's doorstep, buzzed the doorbell incessantly, then hid upon the sound of stomping from the other side. "Be brave." I instructed. "Be sincere, and say two words. Only two; I'm sorry."

Luckily, Kazuha was the one to answer. However, her irritation took a turn for the worse at the sight of him. "Heiji, you—!"

"I'm sorry!" Heiji blurted. Shoving the gift forward.

She flinched initially. Inspecting the cup slowly as delight filled her eyes. "You..." she opened her mouth, but the words seemed lost. Then victory, when she took it into her hands, smiling. "Apology accepted."

Excluding my crime spree in America, I gave Kazuha and Heiji the highlights of my life after them. At the mention of a certain name however, Kazuha loudly interrupted me.

"You know Ran?!" She leapt at me, adding, "she's my pal too!"

"What?!" A grin overcame me. "Awesome! We're all chums! Like a female Three Amigos!"

Kazuha tilted her head. "The three what?"

"Wait wait." Heiji leaned between us. "Who's this guy you keep mentioning?"

"Oh, Shinichi?" And without said person around, it felt easier to boast about his status. "In all honesty, the greatest detective I know. Smart and sweet all in one."

"Kudo?!" They chorused with enough volume to send me reeling.

"That sneaky..." Heiji dug out his cell, dialed up a number. Then in the silence that followed he muttered a few caustic remarks after spitting out, "the greatest."

Kazuha leered at me. "Sweet, huh?"

"I- um... yeah. He's really nice... to..." I scooted away, bringing her to scoot closer. "...a lot of people."

Kazuha rolled her eyes. "Sure."

Suddenly Heiji erupted with, "Hey, Kudo!"

Kazuha glared at him until I posed the question. "You two know Shinichi?"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "Never met him, but from the way Heiji jabbers on nonstop, I might as well have."

"They're friends?"

"More like brothers." She laughed.

"You're joking!" I giggled back. "Heiji, let me speak to him real fast."

He jerked the phone from my grasp. "Use your own phone."

"What for? You've already got him on the line."

Something said over the line took Heiji's attention. "Yeah, that was Keiko." he paused. "No." Another pause. "No, she's my childhood friend. That's none of—" And another, then, "fine! Let's see you try!" Heiji smashed his finger against the 'end call' button. Scrunching his eyebrows up afterwards, and asking, "what'd I call him for in the first place?"

Authors Note:

For anyone that's read the Magic Kaito manga, there is a classmate in their school named Keiko. That's not why I named her Keiko, but it happened to be a funny coincidence to me when I was writing this chapter.