Second Wind
By Ysabet
Chapter Six: Cold Comfort
The moments before a gun is fired are, relatively speaking, very quiet. There's the careful aim, the silent sighting down the barrel of the shooter's eye--- there's the trigger, the terminus of potential--- and, in the chamber, there's the bullet. Things are especially quiet for the bullet... but not nearly as quiet as they are for the target. For the target, that split-second of peace may be the last thing it knows before the darkness and violence of sudden death.
And make no mistake: it's violent. Gunpowder, really, is the killer within the weapon: the momentary explosion of shock and chaos that makes the inevitable happen and brings the target down. Without impetus, the bullet does not kill.
Violence and shock, and the target falls. But before the fateful moment, all is calm.....
..... for a little while. A very, very little while.
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Red rain, flooding the world with scarlet, filling every sense with the knowledge of spilled blood and untimely death…..
Conan had woken up groggy and disoriented, a bitter taste in his mouth and vivid, gory dream-memories in his mind; but behind the ache in his head lodged a feeling of lateness, something that he knew from case after case in the past: the clock ticking, the hourglass emptying, time running out. As he slid out of bed and dropped to the floor below with a thump, the faintest trace of a scowl flickered across his face.
Ojiwa Ryu..... They had a name now, and a face to match with that name..... one more piece for the puzzle; sooner or later there'd be enough pieces, and the picture would be clear enough to see.
The boy's expression wilted a little more as he groped with his toes for his house-slippers; his dream the night before--- now, what the hell had all *that* been about? Bloody rain.....
Whose blood had it been?
Feeling ever so slightly ill, Conan shook his head hard and shrugged his robe on; it was bad enough that he had to go schizophrenic in his sleep, for crying out loud..... now was he supposed to start looking for oracular meanings in his dreams? He'd be as superstitious as Hattori's girl Kazuha-chan next.
*Bloody rain.....* The young detective scratched his rumpled hair and shook the image away; he yawned once, then trudged down the hall towards breakfast.
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Sometimes you simply had to stop and admire the view. It was times like this, Conan thought grinning, that definitely deserved to be caught on film for posterity. A pity he didn't have a camera handy.
The new computer (purchased and brought home the night before by Mouri Kogoro with the dubious expression of someone who hasn't managed to move beyond a pocket calculator as yet) had been left sitting in all its unopened, uninstalled glory when the boy had headed for bed. But now the boxes were open and the manuals pulled from their shrinkwraps; a small girl sat cross-legged on the office floor in a litter of styrofoam packing, carboard and plastic, reading the installation instructions softly aloud.
"...when installing DotComPro, all protocols will need to be set to match the main drive's configuration; to check this, please insert Disk One of Four into your CD-ROM drive (E:/) and double-click on the icon that appears....." Her clear, lilting little-girl voice contrasted oddly with the technicalese of her reading material. Frowning in concentration, Ran hitched up her nightgown at the neck and flipped through the booklet towards the back. "Index, index.... OH!" An expression of amused chagrin filled her small face as she caught sight of the boy who leaned against the doorjamb, grinning.
He addressed the air. "'Oh noooo, Shinichi, it's too late at night to put the computer together... let's wait 'til tomorrow, Shinichi.' You're busted, Ran-kun."
Ran blushed. "Well, it is tomorrow....." She surveyed the nest of packing material that she sat in. "I guess I just couldn't wait. I know, I know, there's not enough time to install it this morning, but..... I thought maybe I could sneak one of the manuals to school with me?"
He shook his head at her, a little wistfulness creeping into his grin. "If somebody finds you lugging something like that around, what would you tell them?" The boy bit back a laugh as she peered into one of the boxes, her small form dwarfed by the equipment. "Ran-kun the Techno Geek. Never thought I'd see the day..... You always did like the computer classes at school, though, didn't you?"
She stuck her tongue out at him, looking every inch the impudent little girl. "I am not a Geek! I'm just--- good with computers. You are too, or you used to be---"
Conan sauntered over to the mess of boxes, peering at the contents. "Oh, you just want to surf on the Internet...." he teased. "All those chatrooms, all those hentai fangirl bishounin websites---"
Sputtering, Ran flung a piece of styrofoam packing at him; he laughed and fended it off. The resulting small war of packing-peanut volleys and flying bubble-wrap was just beginning to warm up when Eri-san stuck her head around the corner from the kitchen; the two young figures froze guiltily, caught acting like the children they appeared to be.
The older woman surveyed the damage; Styrofoam shapes decorated most of the office's surfaces, and its occupants were faring no better. Ran's dark hair was festooned with bits of white packing material; she had crouched half-behind one of the boxes and was trying to look innocent. From his vantage point around the edge of the new monitor, Conan could see that Eri was not buying it this time.
Hands on hips, she stared severely at her young-old daughter and her companion. "I'd tell you both to 'act your age', but I'm afraid that's what you're doing….. sort of. Breakfast is on the table--- better get this cleaned up before it gets cold." With a final frown at the two miscreants, Eri turned and marched back into the kitchen.
The two guilty parties eyed each other. "Truce?" suggested Conan, flicking a styrofoam peanut from out of his pajama collar. Ran smiled back at him, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truce." They began cleaning up the mess.
As he fished a last strip of bubble-wrap from behind a cabinet, the boy reflected that breakfast, at least, was likely to be a less risky meal that most others; it was hard to screw up rice, tea and the other simple things that made it up. Or so he hoped….. with Eri-san, you never knew. He stuffed the packing material back into a box; Ran was half under the desk, scooping up stray peanuts, and Conan paused to watch her for a moment. Her long, dark hair fell softly about her face as she scooted back out, hands full; when her eyes met his she suddenly blushed like a rose.
He couldn't help but smile. "A yen for your thoughts?"
Still blushing, she smiled at him as he reached out one hand to help her up from the floor. "Just that….. ever since I, well, I changed….. I keep finding myself, um, playing like a little kid. Did--- you do that a lot, right afterwards?"
Conan chuckled and shook his head, leaning over to pick up one final chuck of packing. "Nope; matter of fact, I had a few problems relearning how to play at first--- I know I was just seventeen, and you'd think that I hadn't had time to forget how yet--- but it is something you have to relearn. You're doing a lot better at it than I was….."
She grinned, all small-girl cuteness with Ran's beautiful eyes. "Maybe because I have somebody my own age to play with, hmmm?" And she tossed the last bit of Styrofoam into a box. Side by side, they headed towards the dining room to face Eri-san's rather peculiar version of breakfast.
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They had left slightly early to allow for a stop at Professor Agasa's, and Conan was beginning to wonder if the Black Organization's little capsule had begun to affect his hearing as well as his height. He stared at Ran in consternation. "You're going to do WHAT?!?"
"Teach Ayumi-kun karate. Why not?" said the girl calmly. "We were talking about what sort of things we like to do yesterday on the playground, and I told her that I take--- that I used to take--- karate. She wants to learn, and it'll be a good way for me to get used to this." She indicated her small form with a nod of her chin. Ran's eyes twinkled a little as she took in his appalled expression. "What's wrong, Conan-kun? Are you worried? I wouldn't be….. After all, she is your best friend."
He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the image of a rather Jacki-Channish Ayumi-kun. "It's not me I'm worried about--- it's Genta and Mitsuhiko. And don't be too surprised if they want lessons too."
She blenched slightly, then looked resigned. "….ummmmm….. well, it'll be good practice, I suppose….."
They turned in through the professor's gate then; the front door was unlocked as usual. "Professor?" Conan sniffed the air. "Chemicals….. he'll be in the back."
The sound of running water and faint, muttered swearing led them to a sink just outside the small chem-lab; Agasa leaned over the basin, dabbing frantically at something on the front of his white lab coat. As they approached, the reek grew stronger, and Ran's eyes widened as she realized that what the professor was concerned about was not stains, but….. holes? With little wisps of smoke coming from them?
At their inquisitive gazes, he grunted, still dabbing. "A new cleaning compound; it didn't work. Too strong." The portly man sighed. "Ai-kun usually handles the laundry, but---- erm…..." His words trailed off.
*Ai. I wonder what you're doing right now--- and why should I care? Funny, I don't feel as mad at you as I did. What the hell, what's done is done….. though I still plan on having a little talk with you about ethics when you show up…..*
The holes looked to be widening, threads shriveling away. Conan cleared his throat a little nervously, pulling a small paper envelope out of one pocket. "Um, professor? I've got a sample here for testing--- do you still have some of that Luminol left? Oh-and Ran, did you bring that stuff you scraped off of Mitsuhiko's flashlight? Might as well take care of them both at the same time….." The girl silently handed over a folded tissue.
Agasa-san left off his dabbing to take the two items carefully, his eyebrows rising. "You're wanting me to test these for blood presence? Shinichi, what've you run into now…?" A faint scent of burning was beginning to surround the scientist.
The young detective shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger and eying the enlarging holes with some alarm. "It may be nothing, but I'd rather find out for sure." The sample he had taken from the wall at school had weighed heavily in his pocket ever since; it was much better, he reflected somewhat unhappily, to know for certain if it was blood rather than to blindly hope that it wasn't.
No matter what kind of conclusions that certainty might inevitably lead towards…..
(and for a moment, he was back in his dream, huddling away horrified as the sky wept sanguine tears down on both of him)
The moment passed. Conan shivered, aware of Ran's eyes on his. Agasa was already turning away with an absorbed expression; with a troubled glance at each other, the two headed on towards school.
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*You know,* thought Conan from his perch on the back of a playground bench, *I think we might be in trouble.*
The first All-Gradeschooler All-Ayumi Karate Class was in progress--- and Ayumi-kun was having a good time.
The child's attention was fixed on her new friend's movements, her young face set in a frown of concentration. Twice now Ran, or rather Rin-kun, had had to explain to concerned teachers that they were "playing karate" rather than trying to dislocate each other's wrists. The first lesson had included simple holds and hold-breaks, and Ayumi had shown a distinct predilection to latch on and *not* let go--- her coordination was pretty much that of a normal seven-year-old and needed work, but…
*… she sure seems to be enjoying herself….. I wonder if this was such a good idea?*
Genta and Mitsuhiko leaned back on the bench in front of him; they looked worried, their eyes following their sempai's movements and growing rounder and rounder with each passing moment. Genta turned an alarmed face towards the smaller boy. "Conan-kun--- can Rin-kun really do karate stuff? I mean, can she break boards and throw kicks and---"
"--- and jump through the air and run up walls and punch out bad guys and---" Mitsuhiko broke in excitedly.
Conan surveyed them both with a jaundiced eye. "You've both been playing Tomb Raider again, haven't you? Or did you finally manage to sneak a look at your parents' copy of 'The Matrix', Genta-kun?" The two boys flashed quick, guilty looks at each other, then up at the smaller boy. "How did you know??" they chorused.
Conan rolled his eyes and sighed. Out on the playground, Ayumi staggered backwards laughing as Rin gently turned her arm sideways at an awkward angle, showing how to break a hold with thumb and forefinger. Eyes bright and determined, she attempted to follow the other girl's instructions; eventually she got it right, and it was Rin's turn to pull backwards. Already they had a ring of interested onlookers, and Mitsuhiko gulped audibly, muttering "We're going to have to be lots nicer to Ayumi-kun after this….."
The smaller boy behind him snorted in agreement. "Listen guys….. There's something I need to ask you to do. Remember what we saw in the park last night?" Both nodded. Genta's eyes lit up. "Are we gonna work on detective stuff? Great! What is it?"
Conan laid out his plan, keeping it simple. Genta and Mitsuhiko would head by the park each evening, watching for another dropoff--- if they saw anything, they were absolutely not to follow; their job was to simply observe. Or, as Mitsuhiko put it, "stake out the joint." Mitsuhiko had watched way too many American gangster movies.
Ayumi and Rin would be keeping an eye on Nodomo-san, watching him as he left school and hovering in the general area of his home until sundown; there was a small patch of grass and trees (not a park, not really--- too small; more a glorified scrap of public landscaping with a bench) less than a block from his apartment building that they could use. Maybe Rin could even continue Ayumi's lessons there.
And Conan? He had his own work to do.
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***sssssssszzzt!***cracklecracklesnap!***'glug-glug-glug.... clunk!'***
Conan winced as the tiny radio hidden in the arm of his glasses relayed the miniscule sound of (if he had it right, which he was pretty sure he had, after four repetitions) someone drinking from a bottle and tossing it into the trash. Nodomo-san had apparently taken to imbibing in his office out of something rather larger than a pocket flask.
It was a pity; the man was going downhill fast and would crash and burn pretty soon--- the young detective would bet money on it. *Better find Toshiro-kun pretty damn quick, for more reasons than one; his dad's destroying himself.*
(red rain, and the clock ticking….. inside his mind, Shinichi shivered.)
At least the bug under his keyboard was working, though that'd be the last time he ever hid one there--- he hadn't considered how loud keystrokes could be when listened to closely. So far it had produced little useful information save for more than he wanted to know about Nodomo-san's little drinking problem, but occasionally the man would mutter things aloud. Conan still had hopes there; it had only been a day, after all.
(but the clock was ticking…..)
He shifted uneasily, earning an inquiring look from Teacher, who paused in her discussion of vocabulary words for Friday's test; "Is everything all right, Conan-kun?" Sighing inwardly he schooled his face to nice, bright 'Conan'-ness and improvised. "Hai, I'm fine--- I was just thinking about lunch." Beside him Rin shot him an odd look, one eyebrow cocked slightly, and Teacher chuckled.
Lunchtime was strongly on his mind, though not because of food….. When at last the bell rang and Teacher began lining up her charges, he tugged on her sleeve with an embarrassed expression. With one hand hooked in Ken-kun's collar and the other snagging Sumaru-kun from racing ahead, she spared a glance at him and sighed--- she had seen that expression enough times before from little boys to need no further elaboration. "Bathroom, right? If it was anybody else….. but go on, Conan-kun; hurry, now! Come straight to the lunchroom when you're done, alright?" At about this moment a rubber-band bounced off her ear, and she spun around to hunt down the culprit with a not-quite-muffled-enough swearword that raised her status remarkably in her students' eyes. Conan ducked out while he could, flashing an apologetic grimace at Rin. She snorted in annoyance, but allowed her small self to be carried along by the tide of gradeschoolers.
Down the hall at a fast clip, then, and around a corner; out the door, quickly, before he could be stopped by any teacher who might wonder why such a young student might be heading over to the upper-grades' area. His school-scuffs made little sound on the worn tiles as he darted across a bit of seldom-used courtyard between halls; two more corners, a moment's ducking into a doorway to avoid a hall monitor, and he was there.
Ojiwa-sensei's office. The door was shut--- locked? Maybe. Probably. And this time he didn't have the keys to help him out. Conan stood on his tiptoes, trying vainly to peer through the frosted glass of the door's window and cursing his short legs.
*Crap. I'll just have to come back later, then. But at least I can do one thing that I came here to do-----* From a pocket he fished an envelope containing a carefully-folded strip of thin plastic: common sandwich-wrap, clingy and smooth. A moment's work had it stretched tightly across the rounded door-knob's surface and secured with a small rubber-band, fairly unnoticable unless you were looking for it; it would pick up a fine set of prints from Ojiwa-sensei the next time he opened the door.
That done, the boy backed away a little and sighed, looking longingly at the lock. *I have got to practice with those lockpicks the professor gave me--- this is one time they'd really come in handy!* Conan grimaced in disgust. *Oh well…* He turned to go-----
----- and nearly plowed smack into a stocky, suited figure that rounded the nearest corner with an angry stride, pulling up short as the boy staggered back.
Ojiwa Ryu was no more prepossessing up close than he had seemed at the park the previous evening; his creased, rather pudgy face reddened angrily at the sight of the smaller boy's proximity to his office. Even in his shock, Conan/Shinichi's mind noted the undereye-twitch that seemed to be affecting the teacher, as well as the thin sheen that made his bellicose face shiny with sweat. "What do you want?" he barked, the words short and choppy.
Conan's mouth opened and shut, gaping for a moment as he floundered for a reply. *Of all people to show up right now--- and why has he got such an attitude? Who peed in his soup?* "I, um, I, ahhh---" Mind racing, he seized upon something Mitsuhiko had mentioned earlier. "M-my friend said that you have these, uhhm, jars with all sorts of weird th-things in them, and I wanted to ask you if I could see-----" He raised pleading eyes to the teacher's face, stepping back a bit.
"No." The stocky man gave him an ugly look, fumbling in his pocket for his keys.
Conan returned it with as much wide-eyed confusion as possible. "But… why not, Sensei? I just want to---"
He was cut off with a curt gesture. "Go away. I don't deal with *little* kids---" He was fumbling with his key now, inserting it into the keyhole below the knob; "--- and I don't care what you want to see. They're science specimens, not freak show exhibits." He jerked his door open and glared down at the boy. "I've got better things to do with my time than play babysitter. And why aren't you in your class, anyway? Go away." Without waiting for an answer, Ojiwa-sensei pushed past the doorjamb and pulled his office door closed behind him with a rude click.
For a moment the small boy stood staring and open-mouthed at the door, to all appearances a subdued, crestfallen child. Then, with a glance up and down the empty hall, he darted forward to peel the now-fingerprinted plastic wrap off of the doorknob, slipping it carefully back into its envelope in his pocket. His expression was, in that moment, smug and not at all child-like. *Well, THAT was a bit of serendipity--- I got my prints and a closer look at Ojiwa-sensei. And I don't think he recognized me, either.*
As he slipped down the hall towards the lunchroom, Conan gave his pocket a satisfied pat. *Well, Ojiwan-san, let's just see what kind of history you've got; a little checking through some online records tonight might prove… enlightening.*
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In his painfully neat, carefully-arranged office, Ojiwa Ryu sat in his swivel-chair, rigidly upright. Only the twitch under one eye gave any indication of movement--- that, and the tightening clench of his hands on the chair's arms. "…kids…" he whispered, a droplet of sweat rolling down his cheek to seep under the line of his collar. His eyes glittered feverishly. "…watching me, all the time, the little bastards….. they are, I know they are….." The joints of the chair's arm creaked in protest under his grip.
His eyes strayed sideways towards a small drawer to one side of his desk; motions jerky, he opened it and slid a hand to the very back, pulling out a tiny plastic envelope. As he measured out a miniscule portion of the white powder contained inside onto an old glass microscope slide and began to roll a scrap of paper into a tube, his breath hissed between his teeth. "…little bastards….. Little bastard--- you're watching me? Well, two can play that game-----"
Unheard, unnoticed, the softest breath of a sob whispered through the office…..
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Lunch is a very important thing to a growing boy (even an ersatz one), and Conan's mind was firmly fixed on food by the time he reached the lunchroom. Catching his teacher's eye, he entered the line at the back of his class and received his tray with a sigh of relief. At the table, however, 'relief' turned to….. consternation? Trepidation?
*….. Ran? What ARE you doing??*
The little girl was involved in what could only be termed holding court. She sat with her tray at the table, talking animatedly, while kids within earshot leaned over and craned their ears to catch what she was saying. Bemusedly Conan sat down beside her, listening with growing apprehension:
"…and if you start learning karate now, when you're still young, it'll be easier to be good at it when you get older. My teacher over at---I mean, back in America--- started teaching me when I was only four years old." She took a bite; Conan noticed the eager looks being traded by quite a few of his classmates and groaned internally. "And…" continued Rin happily, "if you get good at it you can compete in matches with people from all over the world--- that's a lot of fun---"
One of the girls from her left broke in excitedly. "Rin-kun, can you really break a board with your hand?" At the end of the table, Teacher was looking distinctly worried. Frowning a little, Rin shrugged. "I used to be able to…..umm, that is, I think so--- but don't any of you go trying it! You'll break your hands instead of the boards---"
The other girl scowled. "You sound just like a grown-up--- " Snickers ran the length of the noisy table; Rin shrugged again, waving a chopstick through the air. "Yes, but if you do break your hand then you can't learn any karate, can you?..... Never mind….." Her voice trailed off as Conan's half-amused-half-horrified stare registered. "Whoops…" she whispered under her breath, taking another bite with a rueful sideways glance. He shook his head and took a swallow of his drink.
Around them conversations were beginning to break up into their usual lunchtime sets, although there was a distinct 'martial arts' theme to be heard:
"---just like Jackie Chan! And I'm GONNA learn to---"
"---think my daddy would find me a teacher? I want to see if I---"
"---did you see how they did that in Final Fury? My onisan's got a copy and---"
"---saw Rin-kun with Ayumi-chan out on the playground and I bet I could---"
Teacher was looking very worried by now.
Poking at a bit of broccoli with his chopsticks, Conan glanced sideways at Rin and fought back a grin; from her appalled expression, it was apparent that she had just realized what kind of a force she had put in motion. In the past year he had found that giving a group of gradeschoolers an attractive idea was like dislodging a small rock at the top of a steep hill--- all it took was the right one, and you had a landslide.
He took a bite. "I wouldn't worry too much--- so you have a dozen or so noisy little kids pestering you half to death to teach them how to kick their little brothers through a wall for the rest of grade school--- so what? You can handle it--- I hope....." The grin snuck out, and he chuckled at her dismayed expression. God, she looked so cute-----
Deciding that a change of subject was probably a good idea (Rin's face was rather despondent by now), Conan spent the next few minutes outlining the plan of attack for the next few days. She frowned a little. "Stake-outs, hmmm? The kids have done this before, right?" At his nod she smiled just a bit ruefully.
"You know, I'm only now beginning to understand how much went on right underneath my nose; you're right: Adults don't notice what kids do, do they? Even me..... and I always thought that I paid attention to what you did and what you said, even when I didn't think you were---" She glanced around at their sempai, but the other kids were either intent on lunch or on their own conversations. "--- well, you know... your old self. I guess I didn't watch hard enough." A little wistfulness had entered her voice; Rin stirred her rice aimlessly, dark eyes introspective. The expression sat strangely on her innocent face.
Conan shook his head. "You paid a lot more attention than most people would have. And--- well, you know how many times I had to fast-talk my way out of tight spots when I was absolutely sure I had blown my cover….." He eyed her, wondering if the memories would make her angry.
Rin didn't look angry; instead she took a swallow of her drink, smiling to herself a little smugly now. "You'd be surprised at just how long I suspected the truth, really; you always came up with some good reason why it couldn't be true, but... I guess I was pretty convinced already by the time you told me. I just didn't let myself think about it."
"Really…..? Damn; and I was so *careful* all the time. Should've gone ahead and told you right off the bat." He frowned down at his tray, slightly disgruntled.
"Right." He could hear the grin in her voice; funny how some things just didn't change, even though said voice was a little higher now in timbre. Ran had always worn her emotions in her voice.
It was a little later that the matter of voices came up again, when the trays had been put away and after he had just been teased into an argument over soccer by Genta and Mitsuhiko. Very softly Rin murmured to him, "Do you know… that you have three voices, Conan-kun?"
They were in a double line, walking back to their classroom, but that statement made him halt momentarily; Conan stumbled slightly to catch up to his place as he was bumped into from behind by a complaining classmate. "Huh? Three voices?" Rin laughed softly at his expression.
"Three. One for when you talk to people who only know you as Conan, all little-boy and cute and all--- one for when you talk to me, or my mom or dad, or anybody else that knows about you--- and another for when you talk to kids. It's funny, but when you talk to Genta or somebody like that you *almost* talk like your normal self…. like Shinichi, not Conan."
As they slid into their seats, he blinked and thought about this. "I guess I never noticed. One thing about the kids that I like is that they really don't care what I sound like--- I just sound like me. It makes things easier." The class quieted; Rin darted a quick smile at him, then turned her attention back to Teacher and the less-than-enthralling afternoon lessons, which included the use of crayons.
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And so it went for the next two days.
Genta and Mitsuhiko spent time in the park watching for more 'fishing incidents', Ayumi and Rin watched Nodomo-san's home for signs of trouble, and Conan kept an eye on Ojiwa-sensei's apartment for basically anything. During the day, the young detective focused his attention on the bug in the supply clerk's office--- not that he had much hope regarding that lead; Nodomo-san had taken to spending more and more time in his office, but he either mumbled incoherently or kept silent.
Time was running out; every moment that passed made the chances for finding Toshiro-kun grow less and less..... and every now and then Conan/Shinichi would grow silent, thinking of a dream of blood red rain and the ticking of a clock. And each time, he would wonder once again: Whose blood had it been?
Nodomo-san had yet to file a missing person's report with the police; his son was still listed as 'visiting relatives.'
And Conan found himself occasionally wondering about Ai--- how she was doing, was she alright. Agasa-san made the occasional despondent comment; it was obvious that he missed the young scientist and felt guilty for doing so.
The new computer system was up and running with a full DSL hookup installed. Shinichi had spent an instructive evening huddled over the keyboard and mouse with Ran, showing her the ins and outs of investigation via Internet; she had been highly amused to find him using her father's name as a 'lever' when requesting a trace or a search from the various official offices. 'Mouri Kogoro The Sleeping Detective' was well-known enough that his queries and questionings were generally honored (out of curiosity, if nothing else--- and they enhanced his reputation no end).
The search regarding Ojiwa's prints came back with no past history of criminal incident. The kids saw nothing incriminating--- no park dropoffs, no terrified hostages, nothing.
And the clock kept ticking…..
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'Mamaaaaaaaa….. just killed a man……
Put a gun against his head/Pulled the trigger, now he's dead……
Mamaaaaaaaa….. Life had JUST begun
And now I've gone and thrown it all awayyyyyyy…….'
God help them all, Sonoko had discovered American 80's music.
Conan sprawled across his small bed, glasses off, scowling as he attempted to think over the blare of English lyrics sung by groups of people with improbable names: Queen, Men Without Hats, They Might Be Giants, Triumph, Jethro Tull, The Proclaimers….. He winced as Freddy Mercury hit a particularly high note, wailing something that sounded remarkably like 'Beelzebub has a devil put aside for meeee, for meeee, for MEEEEEEE-----'
*I think Sonoko's been permanently assigned to my case. WHY did she decide to bring her whole '80's collection of CDs over tonight?* Mouri-san and his wife had hastily vacated the premises for a trip to Eri's office; she had some trending-and-charting software there that she planned on installing on the new system (or so she said, waving a fast farewell as she scooted out the door). Despite the beginnings of a headache, Conan felt his face soften a little into a wry smile--- the reconciliation had hit a few major bumps during the previous evening, when Oji-san's curiosity regarding the Internet had gotten the better of him… and he had discovered just how many hentai sites were out there. Eri had nearly knocked him into orbit.
But they were trying, Conan had to give them that; and it was actually quite touching to see Mouri's rather clumsy attempts to court his own wife. The man was apparently genuinely working at a few changes of his own behavior (with the occasional slip, such as the 'hentai sites' incident). And Eri-san….. well, her temper was a volatile as ever, but she seemed to be reining it in with perhaps a little more success. Maybe they had both decided that it was time to let the past remain the past.
…..and maybe seeing their daughter become a child all over again had had something to do with it. Or perhaps it was the fact that she had done so for the sake of her own heart?
Conan sighed. Another bit of music wrapped itself around his head, softer now:
'Who wants to live forever
Who wants to live forever?
Who dares to love forever?'
That was Mercury-san again, but these words were gentler, more poignant. Conan blinked, considering. *I suppose it could be worse. I remember last year, when she got on that Madonna kick and played everything she could find at top volume….. I was still my old self then, and I recall being driven off at least once by too many renditions of "Material Girl." I know listening to lyrics is supposed to help you understand English, but a guy can only take so much Madonna.*
He turned his attention back to his 'homework'--- not the basic-beyond-belief worksheets of math and other gradeschooler's excercises, but his 'incident' list for the current case. It was like staring at a box of puzzle pieces, trying to rearrange them with his mind: that piece went there, and that one lined up there, and that one made sense of that one….. The feeling of time running out had gotten stronger over the last day or so--- the young detective couldn't say why. It was faintly reassuring that Nodomo-san hadn't spoken to the police yet; that argued that his son was being held as a bargaining chip against his good behavior and was alive and well… he hoped.
He could hear the two female voices occasionally over the music; Ran's higher tones carried sweetly against Sonoko's more strident voice (though he had to give the blonde young woman credit: she could sing) as she laughed at something her friend had said. Momentary silence as the CDs changed; then another Queen song began, this time (amazingly enough) in Japanese:
'Teo toriate konomama iko
Aisuruhito yo…..
Shizukana yoi ni
Hikario tomoshi
Itoshiki oshieo idaki…..'
The quiet, almost triumphant voice filtered down the hall, stilling Conan's pencil from where it had begun to scratch its way back across the paper. For a few long, long minutes the boy forgot what he was doing, lulled by memory and the thought of a beautiful brown-haired young woman whose heart shone from the eyes of a child. The music sang its message at him in English now:
'Let's cling together as the years go by
O my love, my love…..
In the quiet of the night
Let our candle always burn
Let us never lose the lessons we have learned…..'
He smiled to himself, dark blue eyes open but seeing nothing of the papers before him. *I guess….. if we can't find a cure….. if Ai can't help us, we can manage together, can't we? I did ask Ran to stay with me. And she did. Ran came back to me, and I came back to Ran.*
*Ai….. I wonder when you're coming back. Somehow I'm not as mad at you as I was--- guess I'm accepting the situation better now. If Ran can live with it, so can I. And I guess I almost miss you; I never thought I'd be saying that, that's for damn sure. But I am, and I suppose I hope you're okay. You haven't had a very easy life, have you? And you don't even have somebody like Ran to make things better for you the way she does for me. You lost your sister, but you gave Ran back to me (or me back to Ran). I guess… in your own way, you tried to help. I can't really blame you so much for being cold and analytical--- if I had been raised in the same situation, who knows how I would've turned out?*
*If I wasn't still a little pissed off at you, I'd feel sorry as hell for you. Except for when I see Ran missing her old life. But I can deal with it if she can.*
It was quiet down the hall; the two girls' voices were, at least momentarily, subdued. Freddy Mercury sang on, soft and wistful:
'Hear my song;
Still think of me the way you've come to think of me.
The nights grow long, but dreams live on;
Just close your pretty eyes
And you can be with me... Dream on…..'
*Ran.*They had never talked about the dreams, not really--- the ones where they met up in their tandem selves. The dreams were simply there, as much a fact of their situation as their lack of height and the lurking fear of the Dark Organization (not that he'd thought of Them much lately, what with disappearing kids and the guilty delight of no longer having to be alone anymore). Shinichi chewed on the end of his pencil contemplatively; if, he supposed, this were a normal situation… he would be worried about his sanity. People didn't usually meet with each other in their dreams, and they damn sure didn't show up in pairs. Or as twins. Or as… whatever the hell they were.
But this wasn't a normal situation. They had left normal *way* behind, stalled on the side of the road, around the bend and out of sight. Conan's eyes drifted closed; the young-man-turned-young-boy remembered back to the moment of impulse that had changed everything for himself and Ran, the moment that had sent him gathering flowers for her windowsill…..
'Though I'm gone,
It's as though I hold the flower that touches you.
A new life grows--- the blossom knows
There's no one else could warm my heart
As much as you… Be not gone…..'
*Ai… I guess I'm as much as fault as you are for Ran's change. If I hadn't told her the truth, none of this would have happened. But she seems happy--- she really does--- and that's all I need.*
Deep inside his heart, Shinichi smiled. Normalicy was much over-rated. Ran's voice blended gently with the distant music, and in that moment he could not have said which was which.**************************************************************
"So you've already gotten into trouble for passing notes in school?" Sonoko was going through Ran's new clothing, shaking her head in amazement at the smallness of each garment. "I guess some things never change…" A wail from her portable CD player seemed to protest the sentiment as it moved to the next Queen song.
"Mmph…" agreed Ran, tugging one of her new jumper-sets over her head. "I suppose--- Hey! What do you mean, 'already'?" As she smoothed the garment she glared indignantly at her friend.
Sonoko giggled at receiving one of Ran's patented Death Glares from the little girl that faced her down, hands on hips. "Oh, you remember….. You and Shinichi were always getting caught talking when you weren't supposed to, passing notes, that sort of thing--- Remember old Washitou-sensei's class? The old witch used to pin up any notes she caught kids passing on the bulletin board; I swear, half of them had to be from the two of you!" She pointed at Ran's rapidly-reddening face from where she sprawled on the bed beside the heap of clothes. "Don't try to deny it--- I have evidence!" she proclaimed dramatically, flinging a small shirt into the air.
Scowling, Ran snagged the flying garment before it could land. "I remember, I remember--- you snitched all the notes off of the bulletin board at the beginning of Spring Break… and I remember *why*, too; she had just put a note up there from you, Sonoko-kun, rating the three best-looking guys in the class, and you didn't want anybody to see it!……… Don't tell me you still have all those notes….. do you?"
The blonde smirked. "I never could figure out how to crack the code you and Shinichi started writing in after she started pinning all the notes up--- tell me how to read it and I'll give 'em back!"
The small girl reddened even more, hopping up to sit on the end of the bed with her arms crossed. "No way! Figure it out yourself if you're so smart, Sonoko-kun." Ran scooted back to sit cross-legged against the wall. She spread her arms, displaying her new outfit. "So what do you think?"
The young woman regarded her diminutive friend critically, her head to one side. "Well….. if you wanted to look like a kawaii little gradeschooler, you're doing a great job. But you need--- I don't know, something classier, more stylish---"
Ran shook her head. "Sononko, I'm supposed to be seven or eight years old; at that age you just don't *care* about looking 'classy' or 'stylish.' I'll settle for kawaii, thank you. I mean, I do want to look good and all that---"
"For Conan-kun?" interjected her friend slyly, winking. Ran ducked her head and smiled a little, her cheeks heating again. "Ummmm… I guess. For me, too--- I feel a lot better if I know I look good."
"Ran…..?"
"Hmmm?" The little girl was sitting back, a distant look in her eyes as she mentally translated the English lyrics she was hearing into Japanese. "What?"
Sonoko leaned forward, sprawling on her stomach to prop her chin on her elbows. She stared intently at the young face before her as if watching for signs and portents. "What's it like?"
"Huh? What's what like?" She was still listening to the music.
"What's it like… to be in love? I mean, really in love?"
"!!!" Sputtering a little, Ran jerked her attention back to the conversation. Sonoko's eyes were curiously solemn; they lacked the usual playfulness and flightiness of her normal attitude, and they were fixed on Ran's.
"Ummm….. Why do you want to know?"
Sonoko sighed. "Because you did the most romantic thing I've ever heard of, and you did it all for love. And I want to know what it feels like….. so that maybe someday I'll recognize it when I feel it too." She turned her head a little, staring down at the bedspread and tracing the pattern in the threads with one finger. "I know, I know, I chase guys all the time… and it's starting to get a little old; I sort of wish some of 'em would start chasing me, you know….? So I thought I'd ask: What's it feel like to really be in love?"
Ran hesitated, trying to find the right words; her friend sounded unexpectedly earnest, as if some part of her really needed this. "It's like….. Well, it hurts, a little, especially at first. We're always told that we need to grow up strong and self-sufficient, from the time we're little kids; you know, from "You can do that, you're a big girl" when you're small, to "Big Girls Don't Cry" and all that….. And then suddenly you realize that there's this person that you can't do without--- that for you to be happy, they have to be happy too. Sounds stupid, doesn't it? And you want to be with them, even when they make you mad and impatient and annoyed enough to knock them silly--- it doesn't make sense, but….."
"….. but after a while, you start to understand that for some reason, you'd rather be angry and with them than incredibly happy with somebody else."
She stared down into her lap, turning her hands over and flexing the thin, childish fingers. "And sometimes you almost resent that, because it puts limitations on your life… but after a while, you either give it up or—or come to terms with what you have to do to keep it." Ran laughed softly; there was no bitterness in the sound whatsoever, just a sort of gentle amusement. "I guess I did just that, didn't I? And it's okay; sometimes you have to lose something in order to win."
Sonoko looked more than a little baffled, and Ran sighed. "I said that it didn't make sense, didn't I? …..I guess another way to describe it is to say that it's like there's this rope tying you to someone else; at first the rope's a pain, and you'd rather it wasn't there….. but after a while, you start to realize that by being tied to someone else you're that much more stable, that much less likely to slip and fall; it makes both of you stronger, and you're glad… so glad it makes your heart hurt. And you'll do anything to keep the tie strong."
The blonde stared at her. "A--- rope. So where's the romance in all of this?"
Ran chuckled, shaking her head. "It happens while you're not looking--- if you were looking, it wouldn't be romantic, would it?"
**************************************************************
It was during breakfast on the third morning when the puzzle pieces began clicking together, really; and it all started with a beep as Eri-san's software finished loading into the new computer system.
Craning his head to look past Kogoro Mouri's newspaper, Conan's eyes gleamed behind his glasses at the neat charts and graphs that scrolled onto the screen. Still munching on a final bite of breakfast (fortunately for them all, Ran had cooked that morning), he slid down from his chair with a thump to slip into the chair in front of the monitor---
--- only to bump into Ran, who was sliding in from the other side. Startled, he turned his head to stare her eye-to-eye; laughing, the young-woman-turned-small-girl indicated the armless chair with a wave of her hand. "I think we can both fit." Conan flushed a little, but scooted up onto the seat to peer at the screen.
Tables of data scrolled past as Ran slid the mouse along the pad; the software package was an ACCESS clone, designed to assimilate and track large amounts of information in an infinitely adaptable matrix. Conan's small hands flickered across the keyboard, manipulating fields and shuffling code like cards in a pack. A sharp elbow in his side made him surrender the keyboard to Ran for a moment, and he leaned unconsciously against her shoulder to watch the text flowing past. A bit of data caught his attention and he frowned, dark blue eyes sharpening. "Eri-san….. what've you been working on?"
The older woman came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth. "That? Just some data assimilation. That's a set of statistics on drug deaths in the city over the past eighteen months, categorized by cause: accidental overdose, suicide, impure adjuncts, homicide….. I've broken them down by city sector and graphed them out per week. Why?"
Ran slid her hands to one side as Conan's—no, Shinichi's-- took their place. His voice had sharpened along with his gaze, and his words were slightly clipped as he spoke above the click of keystrokes. Graphs paged across the screen, narrowing the focus down somewhat. "Adjuncts?"
The lawyer nodded, leaning forward with one hand on the back of the chair. Behind her own glasses her eyes narrowed and grew hard. "Adjuncts--- that's a nice, PC name for 'rat poison, used to cut drugs with', or baby powder, or flour, or any of a thousand other impurities. It makes the product go a little further, you know…" The last phrase was spoken with a sarcastic bite; Eri's eyes flashed angrily and she shook her head. "Drug dealers….. You know, I'm not exactly fond of a lot of the people I meet in my line of work--- murderers, rapists, that sort of person--- but drug dealers have to be the lowest of the low. Poisoners on a wholescale level--- and they don't even care who they dispense their poison to, so long as they get their cut." Her words were bitter; Ran reached an arm back to touch her mother's hand gently, her small face troubled.
Shinichi's eyes were still fixed on the data scrolling past. The screen-pointer slid up to indicate a sharply rising incline on a graph. "You've been following a trend here, haven't you? Adjunct deaths have been rising over the last few months."
Eri-san nodded, and a shadow fell over the keyboard as Mouri took a place at her shoulder. Hair tousled and jawline scruffy and unshaven as yet, his eyes still showed a measure of sharpness as he focused on the screen. "This thing can chart that sort of stuff? Might be useful….." He rubbed at his chin; the sound of his fingers against his stubble sounded vaguely like someone sanding a table. "Hrmph; looks like a good assignment for you, boy….. what'd you call it? 'Data assimilation.' So….. first we decide what kind of criminal we want to track, right? Then we check their stats--- past records, locations, opportunities, things in the news, that sort of thing--- and then we, what, graph it out, right?"
Three sets of astounded eyes met his, and Mouri-san waved the Sports section of the daily newspaper at them. "Hey—I follow the races, you know--- this isn't much different than picking horses. And besides, I was a cop." He chuckled. "Well, Kudo? When you get home from school today, you can get started, right? Seems to me I remember somebody offering his assistance--- something about 'earning his keep'….."
Shinichi's jaw dropped briefly. Beside him he felt Ran quiver as she muffled what was probably a snicker. "Right" she said briskly; "We're going to be working together on it, aren't we, Shinichi?"
Her father eyed their small forms darkly, noting how they sat comfortably shoulder-to-shoulder in the office chair. "Looks to me like you're working a little *too* closely already….." He directed a distinct don't-mess-with-my-daughter glare at Shinichi, complete with lowered brows; the young man/young boy hastily slid from his seat. "School's waiting, boy… Ran. Better get going."
Beside them, Eri-san chuckled. She riffled her daughter's hair gently, who snorted slightly and eyed her father. "You just want to play Mah Jong on the computer for the next few hours--- you're not fooling anybody" she informed him, her large eyes severe. Mouri Kogoro attempted an innocent look; it failed miserably, and he backed away to take refuge behind his newspaper and tea.
Conan lingered in front of the terminal for a moment, thinking; *Drug impurities….. how about a comparison of sectors? Let's see, should be on one of the workbook pages…..* His fingers danced across the keypad. *Ahh, here we go….. good thing Eri-san tends to label her stuff so neatly….. mmph--- that's quite a rise, and primarily in the southeast sector… interesting. And mostly during the last three months, too. Now what could've caused that little upsurge?*
His jaw tightened, and a rather grim expression came into his eyes; no-one seeing him right then would've mistaken him for anthing like a child. *A murder is a murder, whether the victim's been stabbed from behind or poisoned through taking adulterated drugs--- it's still a murder. So many of them….. It's easy to look at a graph and just see numbers, isn't it? Not people, just 'data.' But these were people, good or bad, and now they're corpses in the morgue.*
*So many deaths….. a rain of blood….. a reign of poison.*
"Conan-kun? Time to go---" He spun around; Rin was standing behind him, an inquiring look on her face. For a moment he felt an odd sense of déjà vu, his mind's eye seeing a taller Ran waiting for him, ready to walk him to the gradeschool gates, Conan-kun, are you ready?… and behind that, he could hear her soft voice saying Shinichi, are you ready to go? We're going to be late for class---
"Conan? Is something wrong?" Rin stepped closer, absentmindedly reaching up to flick a strand of his untidy bangs from out of his eyes. He smiled then, letting the moment go. "No, it's nothing. Let's go."
As the door closed behind them, the grim statistics shone in their illuminated graphs on the screen, telling truths without explanations.
**************************************************************
Today was Library Day, one of the brighter spots in the gruelingly-boring school routine for Conan. Rin looked around with interest, and then with dawning dismay. "It's--- so small; are we allowed to check out books?"
He sighed. "Yeah, but the selection's not much for first or second graders. But, well… follow me." As the class dispersed among the brightly-colored tables and bookshelves, he led her to the front desk. An elderly librarian was in the process of stamping cards, the repetitive clunk of the stamp muted by the high counter; standing on his tip-toes, Conan peered over it and cleared his throat. "Ummm, Jini-Obaasan?"
The thin, rather horse-faced woman looked down the length of her nose at the small figures before her. "Oh, it's little Conan! And you've got someone with you?" Her accent was… odd, at best; strongly American, with a twang and slur of the consonants that sat peculiarly on the ear. Thinning hair tinted a bright strawberry-blonde curled around her lined face in a careful arrangement; she brushed back a strand and smiled at Rin. "And who would you be, little one?"
As Conan introduced Rin politely to the librarian, she noticed something odd; while his voice was clearly 'Conan-ish', he wasn't holding back much vocabulary-wise--- he spoke like a precocious child would speak to a respected adult. "Sooooo…" beamed Jini-Obaasan; "and what could I do for you today, mmm? More books from your stack to check out?" She waved an admonishing finger. "You know I can't let you take too many out at once, or it'll get noticed." She dropped her voice into a hoarse, old-ladyish whisper and leaned over the counter conspiratorially: "You wouldn't want the Head Librarian to find out, now would you??" and she winked. Rin drew back, a little alarmed.
Like a good little gradeschooler, Conan shook his head vigorously. "No, Obaasan--- but my friend would like to look at the older kid's books too--- she's a very good reader!" Rin smiled up at the woman. Without a break in her smiling expression the librarian pointed one skinny arm towards a sign on the wall. "Well, then, perhaps she might read that to me aloud--- softly, of course---?"
Dutifully Rin peered up at the sign. In her lilting voice she read: "All Students Attending the Kyoto Book Tour Are To Check In With Their Assigned Group Leaders For Permission Forms Before Leaving School Premises". Her voice was clear and precise, the complicated syllables neatly formed; Jini-Obaasan listened with her head tilted slightly to one side, then nodded. "Excellent. Go on, then--- Conan, you can show her around. Not into the magazine room, though—you know those are off-limits." She pursed her lip-sticked lips into a smile and sat back, pleased. As the pair slipped past the desk and around the far corner, Conan called out rather casually: "Jini-Obaasan--- is the computer terminal turned on? I won't play any games on it, I promise--- I just want to show Rin-kun how to look things up."
Already hard at work stamping cards, the wrinkled woman waved a hand. "Heavens, little one, I don't use that thing hardly at all--- how would I know? Go on, now, before your time in the Library's up." Obediently they moved past her into the near-deserted upper-student's room. Rin breathed a sigh of relief--- for a moment there she had been convinced that her reading matter was going to be confined to brightly-colored children's books…
Conan made a beeline straight for the research terminal in the far corner; he hopped up into the chair and sat there, feet hooked underneath. Rin quirked one eyebrow at him as she paged through a book from the 'New Arrivals' stand; "Better watch out--- the Head Librarian'll catch you!"
He right-clicked on the mouse. "Jini-Obaasan is the Head Librarian."
Her jaw dropped. "What?" Conan glanced sideways at her, grinning a little. "It's sort of a game she plays--- she likes kids, and she doesn't want to scare them--- we're not the only ones she lets check out the 'big kid's books'. So she puts on her 'Little Old Library Clerk' act, and all the other librarians play along."
"Oh." She shook her head, then put her book down and walked over to stand behind him, leaning her arms on the back of the chair. "What're you doing a search for?"
"Coffee… and drug smuggling."
Rin frowned; "At the same time? They don't exactly have much to do with each other---"
Fingers still busily typing, he shrugged. "I know… but I'm running out of ideas. I told you about the coffee all over the floor in Nodomo-san's office, right? And we know he's doing some sort of dropoff--- and there's been an upsurge in drug-related deaths by cause of impurities lately---" Frustrated, the boy ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "Aargh! There's GOT to be something I can tie them together with---"
Rin rested her chin on the back of the chair; her breath stirred his hair slightly. "You'll think of it sooner or later; you know you will. You just need more facts to work with….."
He sighed a very Shinichi-sounding sigh, leaning back so that their heads brushed against one another's. "I'm trying--- but Toshiro-kun can't be kept as a hostage *forever*, his captor'll get tired of it sooner or later and---" Conan shook his head, his eyes clouding; he swallowed, and the sound was loud in the quiet room. "Ran…" he whispered, "…I don't want to be the one who finds that kid's body. I don't want to fail him that badly."
She was silent for a moment; then, very gently, she put her arms around him from the back of the chair, hugging him. Rin's small-child arms could only stretch so far, her hands resting gently on his shoulders; but she gave him as much comfort as she could, and he relaxed a little in her embrace.
Then the computer beeped.
"Urrgh?" The moment lost, Conan sat upright. Information was scrolling onto the screen….. They read it together, small faces serious. The article that had popped up was from an international news service, and had little to do with their mystery… at least, so it seemed at first glance. Yet it was a link---
"'Fifteen AirTour Airlines employees were among those arrested in a predawn FBI sweep at Okinawa International Airport Thursday…" he read aloud; "'FBI officials stated that arrests marked the culmination of a two-year federal investigation, code-named "Ramp Shark", that had tracked an operation in which drugs were shipped into Okinawa on AirTour Airlines planes and then distributed to other parts of Japan, including Tokyo and Kyoto…..'" Conan scrolled down the page, his brow furrowed. "But what about the coffee--- yeah, here we go….. 'In seven separate incidents involving AirTour employees, heroin and cocaine were smuggled aboard international flights bound for Japan, said FBI spokesman Takamura Suo. One incident involved flight attendants discovering twelve pounds of cocaine stored in coffee packages, Takamura said. Once the planes had landed in Japan, undercover agents discovered, they would be shipped to various locations across the country and distributed from---'" He stopped.
"But why coffee??" wondered Rin. "I mean, there have to be lots of other ways to get them into the country….. and what does this have to do with what's going on here? That article is---" she frowned at the date; "--- more than two years old!"
Conan sat back slowly, rubbing at his eyes. "I know, I know; there's probably no connection at all. But… maybe the idea's the connection--- what is it about coffee that makes it good for smuggling things? And what was smuggled in the first place? Something small--- drugs, jewelry? I doubt it's money being laundered--- the packages were too undersized. Bills big enough to make that sort of package worthwhile would be too conspicuous."
He stretched and yawned, thin legs dangling from the chair. "God, I'm getting tired of this one; I really, really don't want to see this… end badly. But it's got that sort of feel all over it---"
A sound from behind made them both jump; they swung around to see Jini-Obaasan motioning to them. "Better hurry up, little ones--- your teacher's gathering up the class right now, and you don't want to be caught in here, do you?" If she had heard any of their admittedly-unchildlike conversation she showed no sign of it, but simply shooed them out of the room like so many chickens. "Off you go; the older children will be along any minute now….."
Sighing, the two allowed themselves to be swept up with the rest of their classmates. Waving at Jini-Obaasan as they passed out of the library doors, Conan muttered to Rin beneath his breath: "She's not a bad old lady, is she? If you find something you want to check out from the senior stacks, she'll hold it under the main desk and let you take out one book at a time; the trick is not to turn them in too quick." He matched paces with Rin; their footsteps fell softly in unison against the cracked concrete underfoot on the outdoor walkway between the halls.
"She's really something… her accent's kind of unusual….."
Conan chuckled. "Yeah--- I think she's from some part of America called 'Georgia', if I remem---"
He stopped dead in his tracks. Directly in front of him and no more than thirty feet away was Toshiro-kun.
The boy stood in the midst of an entire hall-full of moving students; stock-still, he seemed to take no more notice of the children around him than they took of him--- they simply passed him by, and he simply stared past them.
Straight at Conan, who froze.
Toshiro's face….. it was so pale, and his expression was--- Later on, Conan would recall pictures of children in bread lines from after World War II; their pinched, agonized faces were no less desperate than Toshiro's.
Distantly Conan was aware of Rin, tugging at his sleeve and asking him anxiously Conan? Conan, what's wrong? He could not have answered her for his life's sake--- he could only stand there, transfixed, staring at the boy who pleaded with his eyes for him to do something, something….. and the pale lips were moving now, shaping one word, then a second-----
***WHAP!!!***
*Wha--- Aaargh!! Who the hell---??* Someone had hit him. On the head-----
Rin stared him down, defiant and worried. "I'm sorry, Shini—I mean, Conan-kun, but you were just standing there looking horrified, and you wouldn't answer me, so I---"
He interrupted her, looking wildly about. "Did you see him? Did you see him??"
"Who, who??" By now the class had bunched up pretty thoroughly in a jumbled mass around their two-person huddle; Teacher had her hands full restoring order, and the somewhat wounded look that she sent Conan spoke volumes. Impatiently he turned back to Rin. "You--- didn't see him? Not at all?"
Rin dragged him into his place in the line, which was beginning to move again. "WHO, for crying out loud??" Her young voice held a mixture of exasperation and worry.
"Toshiro-kun, that's who--- he was standing right in the middle of the hallway, and the kids were all walking around him---"
Brief silence; then: "Shinich—umm, Conan… I didn't see anyone, not standing still in the hallway; and I was facing the same way you were. All the kids I saw were moving….. I didn't see anybody standing still….."
The line of gradeschoolers blended in with the rest of the kids; Conan turned to stare down the corridor, his bones feeling cold beneath his skin. "He was standing right there….." he whispered, moving away. Rin shook her head silently, eyes fixed on his and dark with worry. Conan blew out a breath, then plodded down the hallway with the rest of the kids, deep in troubled thought.
*What the HELL just HAPPENED here?!? I mean, I SAW him; he was standing right there. And what the hell was he saying? Just two words… it looked like…*
It had looked like Help me.**************************************************************
And then there was the incident with the Janitor.
Recess had finally come, and with it a measure of freedom. *At last--- Man, I need a BREAK. Just a few minutes with no 'Conan', no boring class, no irritating classmates, nothing but a chance to really think.* The boy glanced past his shoulder as he took the familiar path towards the South Hall; Ayumi-kun had immediately hauled Rin off into her second lesson. They had been followed by a small-but-eager group of chattering kids who were all simultaneously trying to tell Rin-kun that they Really, REALLY Wanted To Learn Karate.
Conan muffled a snicker, slipping through the doorway; *Rin-kun, I'm afraid there's no saving you from that little trap--- you set that one up all yourself. I'd do pretty much anything for you, but….. even I've got limits. Have fun!*
He glanced cautiously around the empty hallway. *Huh-- no Hei-san? He usually makes it here by now; I don't really feel much like reading today, but I DO want to use one of the Faculty Break Rooms for some peace and quiet---*
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by an outburst of voices that came directly from the opening door of the very Break Room he had been contemplating. "---HELL with that, I don't want anyone messing around with my stuff! Absolutely NOT--- I've got valuable, delicate instruments stored in there, and no low-class uneducated---" Conan ducked back into a recessed doorway, for once thankful for his small size.
Three teachers, two unfamiliar, one familiar. The young detective's quick mind assessed the situation; one teacher was clearly some sort of Gym instructor by his clothing (shorts, t-shirt, jacket). The other had a large amount of chalk dusting to either side of the suit jacket where it lay just below his outer hips, indicating frequent use of a blackboard: some sort of lecturer? No particular stains on his clothing or skin, without a closer look it was hard to tell--- Never mind; not important. They were both gesticulating, trying to calm down their colleague, who was only too familiar.
Ojiwa-sensei, large as life and very, very angry. "—Goddamned little peon, where does he get off telling me I have to open my office and storage room for him? Just because he can't do his job without everybody catering to his---"
The Gym teacher tried to interject a placating note. "Hold on, now, Ojiwa-san, it's not that bad--- we're *all* having to open our storage areas for this---" The chalk-marked teacher nodded emphatically, his sallow face annoyed. In a reedy voice he stuttered: "A-and if you think, hrm, a bad employee, well, y-you can always, hrmmm, complaint form at Administration, you know---"
*Man--- I hope I never have to take any of THIS guy's lectures…..*
Their words had little effect. "He can just find some other way to handle his little problem. I don't have TIME for this sort of shit---" The chalk-marked teacher looked affronted by Ojiwa's language. "R-really, colleague---"
And at that exact moment, here came Hei-san and his cart, right around the hallway corner. Conan drew in a tight breath, pressing further back into his doorway.
The Janitor's thin, rather bland face looked somewhat preoccupied; there were frown lines between his eyes, but they lessened at the sight of Ojiwa-sensei. He stopped, stepping around his cart. "Ojiwa-sensei? Did you get the memo from Housekeeping? I'll need you to---"
He was abruptly interrupted by the science teacher's profane interjection and the beginnings of a rant that was, at best, only half-intelligible. The older man's contemptuous words seemed to have little effect on the Janitor, who simply waited patiently until Ojiwa ran down a little. Placatingly he held up his hands to shoulder level, palms out. "Sensei, if you would please take a minute to listen, we have a mouse problem--- all I need is to get into all locked rooms so I can place traps. I've already managed most of the other teachers' offices and storage areas, but I still need to---"
The notion seemed to incense the other man; his colleagues drew back in alarm as he sputtered with rage and raised his voice. "I said NO and I mean NO, you halfwit!!! What do I have to DO to make you understand?!?----- Give me the Goddamned traps, and I'll place them myself! I will NOT open MY OFFICE to all the *shit* that the school system sees fit to employ---"
At about this time, the Gym teacher made an unfortunate choice; he reached forward from behind to lay one hand on his co-worker's shoulder. The man reacted in a way that seemed far out of proportion to the situation, spinning to shove the teacher hard in the chest with one hand---
--- and striking Hei-san sharply across his cheek with the other. The slight man stumbled back against his cart, one hand to his face. There was a clattering crash as his keys slid out of one pocket to land in metallic disarray on the floor-tiles.
For a long, turbulent moment, the scene seemed to freeze before Conan's eyes; he had time to think What is WRONG with that man? He acts like he's psychotic or on drugs or something before Ojiwa's two colleagues caught at his arms, attempting to calm him down. The red-faced man jerked away from them, breathing hard and glaring at the Janitor, who stared him down with narrowed eyes. "That was uncalled for, Ojiwa-sensei." He rubbed carefully at the place where he had been struck, pushing back his maintenance cap with the other hand. In that moment he seemed oddly different, a little more imposing, a little less like a custodian and more like someone you really wouldn't want angry at you….. His faded brown eyes were darker and his lips were set in a straight, humorless line.
Ojiwa-sensei snarled something incoherent and pushed past the younger man, stomping his way down the hall. Conan shrank back into his doorway, hoping to escape notice; and it seemed that he had done just that---
--- except for the bare second when the teacher's eyes flashed his way, meeting his own startled gaze with a baleful hatefulness that spilled malice and venom over whatever it touched; the man paused for a breath, eyes blazing---
--- and then stomped on down the hall without a word.
Frozen silence.
Slowly Conan stepped out from the doorway, barely aware of his own movements. He stared after Ojiwa's retreating form. *The way he looked at me--- if looks could kill---* The two other teachers paid little attention to the apparent gradeschooler, hurrying away in a cloud of muttered comments and horrified imprecations. But Hei-san sighed, shaking his head. "Idiot." The voice was rueful, annoyed--- tired. And there was something in its timbre that seemed a little out of place, a slightly jarring note that did not match the Hei-san that Conan had come to know over the past month…..
He knelt, picking up the jangling ring of keys. "Here, Hei-san---" As the boy handed the keys to the older man, his attention was caught by something tangled in the mass of metal: a woven cord, not too long with some sort of charm on the end, black and gold enamel---
The thin, clever hands took the keys from his, slipping them back into a pocket. "Thanks, kid. What a stupid mess over something so small--- I mean, all I want to do is set some traps in Sensei's precious storage room and office, not screw with his stuff…" The Janitor rubbed irately at the side of his face where he had been struck, and a suddenly wary Conan watched him with new eyes. "Does it hurt, Hei-san? Maybe you should go see the Nurse's office," he offered, moving a step or two unobtrusively to one side for a better look…..
There was no mark upon the skin. It had been a hard side-of-the-hand type of blow, but Hei-san's face showed no sign of a bruise, no reddening or anything else. Nothing.
And in this case, nothing suddenly made a great deal of sense, at least in regards to Hei-san. Conan's own face went quietly blank as he worked to keep his feelings invisible. *Well, that explains a hell of a lot, doesn't it? But-- think about it later, Kudo, not now, not here. And think about some way to get into Ojiwa-san's office while you're at it, won't you? That's the key, that's what I have to do next. And THEN I can deal with Hei-san. But… why--- No. Later.*
He frowned up at the Janitor, nothing but a precocious child worried about his friend. "Are you alright? I have to go back to the playground now---" said the boy, sounding a little uncertain.
The Janitor waved at him. "Nahhh, I'm fine. You go on, and don't worry about this. Teachers can be weird sometimes." The boy nodded and slipped out the door, trotting towards his sempai out on the playground.
Behind him, Hei-san watched him go, fingering the charm in his pocket somewhat ruefully. "Damn…" he muttered, the faintest of grins passing over his face as he rubbed his bruised cheekbone with one hand.
**************************************************************
The rest of the day was… ordinary. Painfully, mind-numbingly ordinary, filled with childish classmates and Teacher's cheerful voice and disgustingly easy 'work', brightened only (though significantly) by Rin's presence. Conan was troubled, and she knew it; occasionally she would try to draw what was bothering him out with a careful question or two, but for the most part she let him be. But every now and then he could feel her gaze sweeping across his face, could feel her concern brushing across him like the softest of feathers. It made him smile a little to himself; *Ran, this is one thing I'm not going to bother you with--- Hei-san's MY problem. And as for what I've got planned for the evening… well, with any luck, I'll be in and out before you know it. Probably won't even need those lockpicks I've been fooling around with.*
The lockpicks had been a partial success--- he had the feeling that, with a little practice, he could become pretty proficient with them. But that would take time, and time was not something he had in quantity right now….. so he'd just have to improvise. *Hey, I'm GOOD at improvising; should be a piece of cake.*
*I hope.*
**************************************************************
"Tests? What kind of tests?" Rin looked understandably worried as she eyed Conan, kicking a pebble across the sidewalk halfway between their school and the Mouri's residence.
He shrugged. "Probably the same sort of things that he did for me just after I was changed--- measurements, density checks, a few cell samples, maybe a test-tube or so of blood drawn--- nothing much. Agasa-san just needs to keep tabs on our status as time passes so he can note any changes."
Still walking, Rin frowned and brushed a lock of her long hair back; she had tied it in a long tail, but strands kept slipping out… something which Shinichi/Conan found to be amazingly cute. No matter what her apparent age was, Ran/Rin was, frankly, adorable.
Right now, though, she probably felt more apprehensive than adorable; her brow wrinkled and she stared at the boy. "Have there been any changes, though? I mean, it has been a year….."
He half-smiled. "Yeah… don't you remember? You had to let down the hems of my long pants--- I've grown a little over an inch." That little realization had landed smack between alarming and encouraging; it meant that he was capable of physical change--- that he wasn't going to be stuck as an undersized dwarf all the rest of his remaining lifetime, however long that might be. On the other hand, it also spoke of a certain permanency regarding his condition and offered evidence that his body was getting used to being that of a child's again. Not good.
They had reached the doorway; Rin stepped inside, still frowning a little. "I *have* actually noticed one odd thing….. I was planning to mention it to the Professor sooner or later. Do you remember that time I cut my elbow open ice-skating when we were six?"
Shinichi nodded; "Yeah, you tried to take out half the rink's skaters by sliding across the ice on your stomach, spinning like a Frisbee." She scowled, knuckling him on the head, thump! "I was just learning how to skate…" she pointed out. "Anyway, the scar is still on my elbow, just like always. BUT….. my appendicitis scar from when I was twelve *isn't* there--- not a scrap of it."
That raised his eyebrows.
"So, anyway… I've been checking a few other things--- scars from a bike wreck I was in when I was fourteen, a burn-mark from ironing that I got when I was about ten, that sort of thing--- and they're just not there. Anything from about age six and earlier is, but nothing beyond that point. It's really weird."
They stood just inside now, and Conan stopped, slipping off his backpack. "Tell the professor--- he'll want to know about that--- and you're right; it really IS weird. I'll have to check on myself later--- listen, right now I'm going to head back over to his place and to do an errand or two--- I'll be back in time for dinner, okay? I just need to take care of a couple of things." He did his best to look nonchalant ('innocent' would've been a mistake; Ran had always seen through 'innocent', no matter his size).
Still she eyed him a bit suspiciously. "But--- well, okay. I'll see you in a little while, then?" He nodded, stepping back out into the afternoon sunlight. Leaning against the wall just inside the doorway, Rin shifted her backpack off to lie with his against the wall. She chuckled a little wanly. "You know, I had to stop myself just then--- I almost started protesting that you were 'too little to go out on your own'. I guess old habits really do die hard--- that's the sort of thing that 'Ran-neechan' would say to little 'Conan-kun', isn't it?"
He smiled back at her, his dark blue eyes warm. "It's kind of nice to know that 'Ran-neechan' is still there. I haven't forgotten her….. Anyway, I'll see you in a bit." And with that he turned to go.
Behind him, Rin stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching until his diminutive shape had vanished among the crowds.
**************************************************************
And less than twenty meters from the Mouri's doorway, a stone-faced man sat in a car and *also* watched as the small boy headed determinedly towards the school. "That's it….. right where I can see you, you little bastard…..watching me all the time….. But I can watch you, too….." whispered Ojiwa Ryu, hard eyes glittering, hands knotted into fists. He started the car.
**************************************************************
*Good thing tonight's Parent Meeting Night at school--- things'll be unlocked. I still may have to rely on the picks to actually get into his office, and I'd better check out the storage room too while I'm at it.* The boy slid his hand into his pocket, making sure the soft roll of cloth containing the picks was still there. *Not very big, are they?--- just a bunch of bits of stiff wire with grips on one end. Sure wish it was as easy to use them as it looks in the movies, though.*
His fingertips brushed against the small sticker-microphone that waited to be used, and he smiled a little grimly. *THIS time I won't put it under the keyboard.*
Conan slipped through the gates of the school; the parking lot was already filling up with parents and the occasional student--- he took a deep breath and slid into the varying stream of people that were passing through the open doors.
*Big crowd tonight--- wonder what the meeting's about this time? Not that I expect to ever attend one, unless Eri-san takes Ran and I to it; whoa, scary thought there: since Ran has now joined the ranks of the Terminally Short, my sole 'guardians' consist of Eri and Oji-san. No more Ran to run interference….. Crap. Oh well--- and that brings up something else, something that ought to make good old Mouri-san VERY happy; now that he knows about me, I can get Mom and Dad to start sending him something to help pay for my upkeep. Couldn't do that before without chancing blowing my cover, but that's a moot point now, so….. A little extra cash every month ought to make Oji-san a lot easier to get along with. About time, too--- I should've asked my parents to help out before, but somehow the time was never right. They can take it out of my college savings if they want to; at this rate, it's going to be quite a while before I need the money.*
*Unless Ai finds a cure….. Where are you, Ai?* As he trailed along behind a chattering couple, Conan thought about what he had seen on the inside of Mitsuhiko's notebook the day before.
*Poor Mitsuhiko-kun… I wonder what Ai'd think if she saw that little heart with her name inside? Talk about déjà vu. I knew the kid liked her, but… Hope she doesn't smash him down too hard; it's really kind of sad. And if I were her, I'd consider the fact that she only has a decade before she ends up looking like her old self again--- what's she going to do then? For that matter, what'll I do then, if the Black Org's still around? …..You know, I'm starting to plan for the future again--- something I haven't done for a year; feels sort of good. Maybe Ai'd better start doing the same.*
He slipped out of the stream of traffic, noting that the lights were on in the other hallways. *Good. Makes things considerably easier, doesn't it? And if somebody asks me why I'm wandering around, well--- umm, let's see: My mom and dad are back in one of the meetings, and I was left with my… sister? brother?... brother, who took off down this hall, so I'm looking for him. I can play the scared, whiny kid at the drop of a hat--- and slip away at the first opportunity. Of course, I shouldn't have to do any of that if I'm careful. But it always pays to have a good story ready.*
Around the corner, past the drinking-fountain and the shoe-cubbords, down the hall….. it was quiet in the deserted parts of the school; his soft footsteps echoed off the walls, and half-absentmindedly he found himself exchanging his outdoor shoes for his soft school-scuffs. At least they were quieter.
Two more sets of double-doors--- he had been afraid that they would be locked, but he supposed that fire regulations required that they be unlocked while anyone was in the building….. Now, out the side entrance, through the overgrown courtyard (the shadows were hanging long now, and it was a bit dim there despite the remaining few hours of daylight) and into the South Hall.
It was a funny thing considering the surroundings, but he could feel his Conan-self withdrawing, fading back away as Shinichi came to the forefront. It was Shinichi who padded down the brightly-lit halls, ducking under windowsills, darting past doorways; Shinichi who took the helm. Conan would never do this sort of thing, not here.
*Okay now, quickly; in and out. Let's see, now--- I don't suppose you were so obliging as to leave your office unlocked for me, were you, Ojiwa-sensei? Damn; didn't think so----- Okay, then; out with the tools, and--- What's that----??-*
As he drew the roll of cloth from his pocket, something bright spun out of it to land on the tiles:
*****CLING-A-LING-LING-LING-RING-RINGGGGGG!!!!!*****
In the stillness of the hallway, the sound was deafening. Shinichi stared, paralyzed, at the golden half-coin that lay shining beside his feet.
Coldness seemed to creep through his bones, coldness and shock. When and how had he gotten Toshiro's half-sovereign back?!? The last time he had seen it had been just before going to bed a few nights earlier….. just before his last talk with the kid….. Slowly, automatically, Shinichi leaned down to pick it up. It lay glinting in his palm like a cold, golden warning.
*…Later. I've got to put this aside and think of it later. Too much to do right now, too little time to do it in. Work, Kudo!* Small fingers shook just perceptibly as he stuffed the coin back into his pocket.
*Let's see--- start with the half-length pick, the one with the single bend--- hang on, what's this?*
Three meters away, the door to STORAGE-3B was, just noticeably, open. He could see the edge protruding beyond the frame. *…Huh… If I didn't know better, I'd smell a trap. Big Time, too. But as far as I know, there's nobody trying to trap me--- I mean, not even Ojiwa's nuts enough to think a dumb little gradeschooler would sneak into the school after-hours just to see what he's up to, even if the guy's unbelievably paranoid---*
*--- and taking advantage of the moment to investigate is part of a good detective's tools of the trade, right? An opening is an opening. The office can wait.*
The door to STORAGE-3B opened quietly; as the boy stepped in, he caught the faintest whiff of bleach from behind the door. *Bleach? Oh yeah, that stain. Is Hei-san--- he--- still trying to clean that off the wall? I never heard from Agasa whether or not it was blood; I'll have to remember to ask him when I stop there on the way home---*
It was *then*, that moment when he was sniffing the air absentmindedly, that the other scent hit him, making him cough: the faintest, barest trace of a sweetish reek, horrible and distant as a muffled scream.
*Oh no. I know what that is. I--- God, no. And it's coming from somewhere in here.*
The storage room was a packed mess of crates, boxes, old equipment, file-cabinets….. and it all felt vile in that moment. The very, very last thing in the entire world that Shinichi wanted to do in that moment was to paw through that maze to find--- *But I've got to know. I've got to make certain.*
His small size would be useful, for once; obviously it wasn't going to be one of the containers nearest the door, or on the top--- too easy to find. Sidling, crawling, half-climbing, the young detective moved slowly through the room towards the back in search of signs of a disturbance. And halfway along the right-hand wall he found it: disturbed dust, clear marks of things being moved… and an increase in the stench that was beginning to make his stomach churn.
A single crate, no more than a meter long. A crate with old, faded books piled beside it, books that had obviously been removed from a container recently due to the lack of dust… his mind continued to analyze the data his eyes gave him, even through the haze of horror that was clouding his thoughts.
*Oh God. It's not even fastened down. Open the lid, Kudo--- you've got to make sure. You owe him this.* He got down into a crouch, shoving at the corner of the heavy wooden lid with all his small frame's strength. *Open, dammit!--- open!----- OPEN!!-----*
It finally budged, sliding sideways just enough. A gush of stench gusted out, and he coughed, fighting nausea. *Just take a look… that's all you have to do, just one look to make sure--- Click on your watch-light so you can see, then you can leave and call the police---*
He looked. And turned away, sickened and shaking.
*Oh God Toshiro-kun I'm so sorry--- so very sorry---*
He sat down on the nearest crate, refusing to look any more. *How long? How long have you been in there? That's not--- that's not a couple of day's worth of decomposition--- but it has to be, it has to be, because I saw you only a few days ago and you were okay--- you were--- Goddammit. I knew it, I knew this was going to end badly, I could feel it in my bones.*
*Now what? Now I go to the authorities. And what do I tell them? That I talked to--- to Toshiro--- less than a week ago, which is impossible, because he's, that's been in there for longer than that---*
….. and a noise behind him made him spin about towards the open door, hairs rising on the back of his neck.
"Got you, you little bastard….." hissed Ojiwa-sensei, reaching for him.
**************************************************************
He would recall hazily, much later, that things did not seem to move in slow motion like everybody always claimed they did; instead things moved too fast, much too fast--- things like Ojiwa's hands, coming towards his throat. Only his instinctive jerk backwards saved him as he fell off the box to land sprawling and breathless on the pile of textbooks, scrabbling like a turtle on its back to turn over and run.
Harsh breathing filled the room as he scrambled back and forth behind boxes and over the clutter of dusty equipment, evading the reaching hands--- there was no Shinichi, no Conan there right now, just the desperate scramble of prey trying to evade the predator---
*OutOutOUT, let me GO, gotta get AWAY--- this guy's not something I can fight, not small, not with a look like that on his face, he's dusted or something--- dusted--- shit, if it's drugs, then he's been sampling the goods, no wonder he's paranoid--- OUT, dammit, he almost--- SHIT!!* The teacher's snarling face filled his view as Shinichi dropped flat and dove between his legs, scrabbling for the doorframe. *Too close in here, it's too close in here, no room to maneuver--- get OUT into the hall, gogoGO get away, get where I can kick (no, I can't kick, I changed shoes) or shoot or---*
And then PAIN!!!, blotting out the world as something hit him hard across the side of his head, PAIN filling everything, a burst of white-and-black-and-white-and-black-and-white----- and he was flat on his face in the doorway and something was tight around his neck and he couldn't breath and he couldn't breath and he COULDN'T BREATH-----
and black.
**************************************************************
****************************************
********************
Sonoko--- you're playing the music too loud. You always play it too loud…..
Where---? Oh yeah--- that's right, we were walking home from school and Sonoko said she had this CD her friend in American had sent her and she wanted to play it NOW and we went to my house because it was closest---
But you're playing it too loud, Sonoko; it makes my head hurt. Even Ran looks like her head hurts….. Turn it down; yeah, that's better. It's not too bad, either--- though why you had to fixate on Madonna, I don't know.
My head still hurts. I'll just sit back here quietly and listen, and watch Ran while she talks to Sonoko. Good idea.
Weird song. This is by Madonna?!? I thought she just wrote stuff about virgins and material girls and that sort of thing….. this one's kind of weird--- it's like what the victim of a crime would think, or maybe a witness-----
I have a tale to tell;
Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well.
I was not ready for the fall---
Too blind to see the writing on the wall.
Sonoko, this is a really weird song. But it's not worthwhile to tell you to turn it off--- my head hurts too much. And I'm cold. Why am I so cold?
A man can tell a thousand lies
(I've learned my lesson well),
Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned;
'Til then, it will burn inside of me…..
Burning. My head is burning, my throat is burning. Am I sick? Doesn't matter; I can lean back and rest the cold glass I'm holding against my forehead--- that'll help. And I can watch Ran. That'll help too.
I know where Beauty lives---
I've seen it once, I know the warmth she gives.
The light that you can never see
---It shines inside; you can't take that from me!
Ran….. God, but you're so beautiful. I've wasted so much time; I should tell you the truth. I really should tell you…. No, wait, I already told her---- huh? What was I just thinking about, what truth? There's only one truth….. I should tell you the truth, Ran, about Conan…..
Who's Conan?
The truth is never far behind
(You've kept it hidden well),
Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned;
'Til then, it will burn inside of me…..
We should turn some more lights on; it's getting dark outside. Sonoko, please shut up about American music and just let me listen--- you're making my head hurt more. This song, man it's weird….. it makes me want to listen, but it makes me feel bad too, about somebody else… a little boy? Why would I feel bad about a little boy?
WHAT little boy?
Ummmm… dark hair and a thin face, sad face, too-late face----- and why does that remind me of another little boy? I can't think of how *he* looks for some reason, but I feel bad about him too. Irritating little boy, somehow I know he is, but Ran likes him. Ran loves him.
…..If I ran away, I'd never have the strength to go very far;
How would they hear the beating of my heart?
Will it grow cold, the secret that I hide--- will I grow old?
How will they hear, when will they learn, how will they know…..?
They can't hear him, never, ever; turn down the music, Sonoko! How will they hear me? Who---? Somebody. I have to tell somebody that my head hurts, and that the little boy needs to be found. I found him, now they need to find--- what? I forget. My head hurts.
A man can tell a thousand lies
(I've learned my lesson well),
Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned;
'Til then, it will burn inside of me…..
Lies….. secrets….. they're all poison, packages of poison beside a lake, bait for fishes that shouldn't bite the hook. I know a secret. I am a secret. But my head hurts so much. Sonoko must've turned down the music, though; good. I can't hear it as much now.
The truth is never far behind
(You've kept it hidden well),
Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned;
'Til then, it will burn inside of me…..
Burning….. why is my throat burning? Ran--- Ran, are you okay? You're talking to me but I can't hear you. Are you okay? Ran---??
RAN---???
********************
****************************************
**************************************************************
Waking up was as slow as the movement of continental plates, as slow as the extinction of the dinosaurs. Entire empires grew and collapsed into ruin while he woke up, galaxies sprang up and died into primeval dust.
*Dark….. I was dreaming---? Something about Madonna and Sonoko and Ran. But it's dark, and--- ah, God, my HEAD hurts. What the hell happened to me? My throat-----*
Cold; he was so cold, and he was lying on something hard and uncomfortable and numbingly chill; metal? It was hard to think past the pounding in his head, the burning in his throat. Shinichi tried to bring a hand up to touch his neck, banging it on something close and hard in the process.
*What---? I'm… lying on my back, on something slick and cold--- metal, yeah, but I hit my elbow against something awfully close--- there's another one on my left--- God, my head HURTS!!! Can't think….. why am I so fuzzy-headed? Feel sort of sick, not throw-up sick, just like my head'll fall off if I move wrong. It hurts-----*
One hand slid up into his hair. The place that he touched made lights explode in front of his eyes; his fingers came away sticky with blood.
*HURTS---!!!*
Eventually the lights dimmed down, and Shinichi lay there in the cold, close darkness, hurting and remembering.
*Ojiwa… right; I was in the storeroom--- I found… oh God; I found Toshiro's body, except it was, was decomposed too much, it couldn't have been only a few days' worth, it was more--- and Ojiwa-sensei must've been waiting for me. But… why me, why ME out of everyone? Because I've had him under surveillance? Don't know, can't think--- everything's so hazy….. Guess he saw me too many times--- and he was dusted; no doubt about that.*
*Dusted…..*
Drugs--- dusted had once meant 'Angeldust', PCP, but it was used for everything now: heroin, crack, cocaine, all the lethal little toys that humans had come up with to poison themselves with. The look in the man's eyes----- *Yeah, he's been sampling his stuff alright. Oh GOD, my head hurts--- so hard to THINK!! What did he do to me? Am I dead or something?* Shinichi's hands crept up to his bruised and abraded throat; he tried to call out--- then flinched in agony at the horrible, white-hot pain as it needled its way through his mistreated vocal cords.
*Can't talk--- can't cry out for help. And I can't think clearly--- concussion. That'd explain it. Concussion.* If he could have, he would've laughed aloud at the thought. *Not dead. Just a concussion. Not dead.*
*Not yet.*
Dimly he tried to think past the pounding in his brain (Sonoko, turn the music down!); where the hell was he? Storage room, right--- inside something cold and hard?
Sounds. Close by, as close as that horrible stench--- scraping sounds, rough and heavy. Sliding sounds, thuds and crunches and shiftings. The noise made him attempt to whimper in pain, and the pain made him go rigidly silent. His thoughts chased themselves around and around in circles, spiraling close:
*…sliding noises, boxes? It HURTS to THINK, but I've--- boxes….. someone's moving boxes….. I heard a man's voice just then, kind of a grunt---- somebody (Ojiwan-sensei?) is moving boxes--- what the hell am I inside? Is he going to move it too? What am I lying on---??-* His weak fingers traced over the cold metal that lay so close all around him, fitting so tightly that his legs were slightly bent, going a little numb. Ridges here and there, along the seams of the container (for container it was); something underneath him, like a track or some such--- a flat, cold bottom with another track built into it not too far above him, less than a foot---
--- a lock. The back side of a lock that would not click, would not turn, would not budge. Shinichi felt his container shudder as something heavy was placed on top of it; if he could have groaned, he would have.
Quiet now, clicking of footsteps across a floor. The closing of a door.
Silence, save for his breathing, warm breath bouncing off the cold metal back into his face.
And a cold, cold realization, stealing through his numbed and aching brain with the slowness of melting ice:
*A lock. A track underneath me, a track overhead. Cold metal, a little more than a meter long. Sliding noises, heavy things. That smell.*
*This is a filing cabinet, one of those long on-the-ground ones. Ojiwa-sensei hit me on the head and strangled me and locked me in here, in this room with Toshiro's dead body. He either thinks I'm dead or he doesn't care. He piled more boxes on top so I can't get out and so nobody'll find me.*
*I've been locked in a box. And my head hurts. And I can't call out and I can't get out and I don't have my kicking shoes on because I changed to my scuffs and nobody knows I'm here.*
*I've been left to die.*
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To Be Continued……
Ysabet's notes: Don't hate me too much--- I've been losing sleep over how to write this. Reviews would be nice, though… or fanart (already got some of that). Or whatever. Gonna post the fanart to my fledgling website (not up yet), so it'd be hugely welcome. And I've stopped worrying about how long the damned chapters are, okay? This one was over 17,000 words, and it convinced me of something: I don't write chapters. I write sections. Cool. I'll have the next section up as soon as I can; be patient. Conan's not going anywhere soon.
