Second Wind

By Ysabet

Chapter 8:  Dark Places

*Small hands.  They're so damned small.*

*Too small, too helpless.  But never mind that right now; they're all you have.  Things to do, things to get together.  Flashlight--- extra batteries?  There they are.  First-aid kit?  Maybe in the bathroom….. drag the stool up to the sink, look in the cabinet…..  Oh, good, there it is.  Stuff them in your jacket's inner pockets; they're a bit bulky, but who cares about that anyway?*

*That doesn't matter.  Don't think about anything except what matters.  You have to find him.*

*Hurry.*

*And take that knife from the kitchen counter, too.  You can hide it inside your jacket as well.*

*They're still arguing; how… stupid.  Why can't they stop---?  Don't they realize that this is more important than--- than anything?  More important than Dad yelling at Ai-chan about the capsule, at the Professor about giving her a place to stay, about me for not telling him and Mom about Toshiro.  More important than everything.*

*Just keep moving, Ran.  If they see you they'll stop you, so just keep going.  Ignore it all, just keep getting ready.  Now Dad's fussing at the Professor again; he won't notice me leaving.  Addresses?  In my pocket.  Ojiwa-sensei's first, then Nodomo-san's.  I don't know what I'll do when I get there, but…..  I'll think of something.*

*I have to find him.  I have to.*

*Hurry.*

*Shinichi…..  Conan-kun…..  Be alright.  PLEASE be alright.  Please…..*

*Slip out of the room, head for the door.  Shoes on.  If I'm quiet I can make it out without-----!!!*

The small girl yelped as a large hand clamped down on her shoulder; the half-open door banged painfully against her foot.  "And just where do you think you're going?" growled her father's deep voice.

She squirmed to get loose, but the hand held fast.  Twisting around to glare up at Mouri Kogoro, Ran snapped right back at him.  "Where do you *think* I'm going?  I'm going out to find Shinichi."  Her dark eyes flashed angry fire.  "I called you and Mom to ask for your help, but all you've been doing for the last twenty minutes is arguing!"  She finally managed to yank herself loose from his hold, settling her jacket back into place on her thin shoulders; the first-aid kit in Ran's pocket clinked against the flashlight.

The detective loomed over her; a small, less-angry part of her mind wondered at just how big he suddenly seemed.  "And what'll you do if you do find the boy and he's in a bad spot?  Do you want to disappear too?"  Behind him Kisaki Eri's sharp voice cut through.  "If you think you're going out there like this---- Ran, I thought you had more sense!  It's late, and---"

"And it's not getting any sooner for Shinichi!!"  Ran ducked angrily under her father's arm and tore the door open, dodging through and out into the cool night air-----

----- only to be swept up by a strong arm around her waist.  She yelped again in shock, struggling, but felt her feet leave the ground as she was picked up for the first time since her transformation into a child.

The humiliation was terrible. 

As she fought against her father's grip, Mouri Ran wondered dimly: had Conan—Shinichi—felt this way every time she had dragged him away from something, had hauled him off by the back of his jacket or simply scooped him up?  She kicked futilely, flailing her short arms.  "Put me DOWN!!!"

"No.  Not 'til you come to your senses!!  Ran, you're being a little idio--- OWWW!!!"  It was Mouri's turn to yelp as a small foot caught him sharply in the side of one knee; he dropped his struggling daughter's form, reaching for her even as she dodged past him for the door.  "RAN---!!!"

With a gasp of triumph, she evaded his grasp and shot towards the door….. which slammed shut even as she reached it.  Her mother's tall form was suddenly directly in her path, and she was caught up, lifted and held tightly in a hard embrace.  "Let me go--- let me go!!  Mom--- please!!"  But her mother's grasp did not lessen, and Ran's struggles were in vain as she was carried back into the main lab.

By the time her feet were set back on the ground, she was stiff and quivering with rage; the girl pulled furiously away from her mother's arm, glaring at the room like an angry kitten.  "Somebody's got to go after him!!" she hissed, pushing the tumble of hair out of her eyes.  Part of Ran was still shocked at being lifted so easily--- so far she had managed to ignore most of the 'weaker' aspects of her transformation, but that particular detail had just been driven home with a nasty jolt.

It only made her angrier, and more desperate.

Across the room Haibara Ai leaned against the wall in the stairwell, watching quietly with her arms crossed.  Her calm, steady gray eyes took in Ran's now-disheveled appearance with very little sign of what she was thinking.  The previous conversation between herself and Mouri Kogoro (if one could call a rather one-sided shouting match a 'conversation') had not noticeably rattled the small scientist's composure, but by the faint crease between her eyes it was evident that this had changed in some measure.  "It's after ten p.m.," she said softly.

Mouri turned his head away from his daughter to scowl at Ai.  "So what if it is?  Short on sleep, are you?" he growled.  He had been less than impressed--- or, quite possibly, more than intimidated--- by the creator of APTX-4869's personality.  He had known, objectively, that she wore the shape of a child; he had even seen her before on a number of occasions.  But he had come to meet her for the first time as herself with a distinct chip on his shoulder, and the fact that she refused to back down at his snarls and bellows was… disconcerting.

As far as Ai was concerned, she had done all the apologizing she needed to do, and to the right person; no one else need apply.  Well, perhaps Kudo… or perhaps not.  It rather depended on how irritating he was when next she saw him…..

….. after they had found him, of course.

"It's after ten p.m….. and there's little to be done this late.  I'd suggest that you calm down, Mouri-chan; panic won't solve anything, will it?"  A somewhat wry little smile flickered momentarily across the scientist's face; "Of all people in this world, Kudo is one whom I'd trust to take care of himself.  It may be that he's in some sort of trouble--- that's certainly a possibility I won't discount, a probability even, given his delay."  She shrugged her small shoulders, arms still crossed, and arched one eyebrow at the others in the room.  "But he's a survivor, is Kudo-kun, if ever there was; you can be certain that, wherever he is, he's making the best of whatever situation he has found himself in."

Ran's anger had cooled somewhat during Ai's reflective words; she shivered, wrapping her thin arms around her own shoulders and hugging herself.  "I hope you're right; I only hope you're right."  The girl's face held a haunted expression as she sank down on the couch.  "Shinichi….."

***************************************************

*Haunted.  We're being haunted.*  Kudo Shinichi's eyes widened in disbelief as Nodomo Toshiro, undeniably deceased, walked up to him to peer into his face.  The little boy's own eyes were tentatively friendly, if a little uncertain; he seemed somewhat taken aback by the others' reactions.

"Um, Conan-kun?  Is something wrong?"  At his classmate's wide-eyed stare, Toshiro turned to look uneasily behind him at the shadowy amusement park..  "Is--- there something scary back there?"  He moved a little closer, unconsciously seeking Shinichi's more adult reassurance.

*Eeeeep!*  Shinichi looked down at the top of his head.  The kid was--- he WAS---

*Uh-uh.  No way.*  It was just impossible to think of Toshiro as, well, as dead.  He just… couldn't…..

…..and the poor little guy was getting scared.

He sighed, meeting his other self's gaze with a faint shake of his head.  Carefully he tapped Toshiro's shoulder with one hand in a light, comforting touch.  It felt….. normal.  Solid.  "Hey, it's okay; there's nothing to be scared of here--- really."  Shinichi knelt down, remembering how it felt to be loomed over; he smiled as reassuringly as he could at the boy's thin, nervous face.  "My name's Kudo Shinichi--- you're Nodomo Toshiro, right?  Conan-kun told me all about you."

Timidly the gradeschooler nodded, his eyes large and dark against his pale face.  "Uh huh; I go to school with him."  He looked over at Conan, who stood somewhat awkwardly to one side; then his eyes tracked back to the features of the young man kneeling before him, and he tilted his head.  "Are *you* his big brother?  You really look a lot alike….."

"Ummmmm….. something like that, I guess."  Shinichi shared a somewhat ironic glance with his younger self, grinning faintly.  "Toshiro….. do you know where you are?  Do you, uhhh, know where this is?"  He waved a hand vaguely around, indicating their surroundings.  A soft wind stirred the leaves of the carefully-pruned trees around them, and the lights of the empty arcade blinked in their preset patterns nearby.

"No."  Toshiro shrugged his small shoulders, looking around.  "I mean, I think it's some sort of park or circus or something---- hey, is this Tropical Land?  I've seen it when we were on the train--- my Daddy said he'd take me there on my next birthday!  Cool….."  The boy looked around with renewed interest, craning his head back to view the ferris wheel and the soaring tracks of the Mystery Coaster.

Shinichi's heart twisted in his chest; he tried to force down the lump that was forming in his throat with very little success.  There would be no more birthdays for Nodomo Toshiro, no trip to Tropical Land, no cake, no presents, no anything. 

Just a funeral, for a little boy who would never have the chance to grow up.

Beside him he could hear Conan swallow hard; sometimes, when they were there together in their shared dreamscape, their minds ran along the same lines--- you could tell after a while that the other was thinking your thoughts, feeling your feelings.  It had nothing to do with telepathy and everything to do with personality; no matter the shape, they were the same person in the end.  It showed sometimes more than others….. like right now, when both their hearts hurt.

"Toshiro-kun?"  Conan cleared his throat, trying not to squeak.  "Do you remember how you got here?  I mean….. well, this is sort of Tropical Land, I guess, but sort of *not* as well.  How DID you get here?"

The other boy hesitated.  "I don't--- I, ummm, I dunno."  His eyes dropped, shifting uneasily away towards the general direction of his toes.  "Things have been really weird…..  I---  Sometimes I want to go somewhere, or find somebody, and I just *do*.  I mean, I keep walking, because if I stop I sort of… go to sleep… and when I wake up, I'm-----"  He paused, his face growing distressed.

"----- I'm back at the school.  And I'm SCARED."  Toshiro's lower lip trembled, and he looked up at Shinichi and Conan with wide, confused eyes.  "Something bad happened there, I not exactly sure what it was and I don't want to go back, 'cause I always wake up in that little room-----"  His words trailed off and he shivered.  "I HATE small places!  But I always end up back there, and I get scared because I know if somebody sees me they might--- might chase me… again... so I go back!  And it takes me HOURS to get out of that room, and I don't, I don't even know how I do it, I, I just *do*….."  The sentence ended in a near-whimper; the boy's eyes were dark with anguish and the beginnings of tears.

Beside him Conan and Shinichi looked at each other, appalled.  The same thought passed through each other's minds:

*Dear God.  He doesn't even know that he's dead.*

*NOW what do we do?!?*

***************************************************

"What do we do now, Mouri-san?  You're the detective here; do you have any suggestions?"  Haibara Ai's soft voice was dead calm. 

The dark-eyed man shot her a glance of distaste as he paced back and forth across the lab; muttering something distinctly uncomplimentary beneath his breath, he pointedly ignored her question.  With heavy steps he crossed the room to join Agasa and Eri-san in their low-voiced conversation on the couch.

Ai repressed a small smile; it was such fun, baiting the older man.  Really, it was terribly interesting how he was treating her--- not at all like the child his eyes reported that she was, but with the honest dislike one usually saved for an equal….. an adult.  It was quite refreshing.  She supposed it had something to do with his detective's instincts, his "cop's nose", so to speak; some observant little part of his mind had pinpointed her as a possible threat (or a least a force to be reckoned with) despite her appearance.  Perhaps it was a perversity of her nature, but she found that she preferred his bellicose attitude to the condescension that she usually received from those around her--- he simply didn't seem to think of her as a child.

*Excellent; he may be an idiot, but at least he's an honest one.*  She chuckled internally.  Ai found that she liked the man, in a rather peculiar sort of way.  *His wife, now….. that's not a woman to underestimate.  Certainly the sharper of the two.  I'd hate to go up against her in a courtroom.*  Kisaki Eri was the sort of woman that the Black Organization tended to dislike the most--- intelligent, discerning, and not subject to bribes.  Not infallible, no; everyone had their breaking point.  Threaten her daughter, her husband….. in Ai's opinion, no-one was infallible.

And that, of course, included Kudo Shinichi.

She leaned back in her chair, hooking one leg neatly beneath the other and turning just a bit to look towards the other child in the room.  Mouri Ran was still staring out the window, unblinking into the night beyond the glass; Ai doubted that she was truly seeing anything there other than darkness.  Her young face was drawn, the enormous eyes shadowed and filled with worry.  Ran sat so still, so very still that, when she moved to rub at her forehead with one small hand, Ai started slightly.

*She's not thinking about herself or her situation at all, is she?  All she can think of right now is Kudo.  What must it be like, being so caught up in another person?  It's almost enough to make one consider attempting that state….. it would make an interesting experiment.*  One would need a partner in such an experiment, though; a pity that the only available party was already taken.  *Ah well; can't have everything.*

Later, perhaps.  In the meantime…..  She slipped off the chair to pad noiselessly over, taking a place opposite Ran at the table's other bench.  "Mouri-chan?  What are you thinking about?"

If her question seemed impertinent or invasive, the other girl made no mention of it.  "Just… thinking.  Remembering."  She did not turn around or change the direction of her gaze, but remained where she was.  Leaning over the back of the bench, she sighed and rested her head on her folded arms.

"Remembering?"

A brief movement; it might have been a nod.  "Things that've happened over the past year to Conan….. well, to Shinichi.  Times when he got hurt, or lost…..  No matter what, he always got well, always found his way back to me.  Back home."  She closed her eyes; when she opened them again, Ai could see the raw pain inside reflected in the night-blackened glass.  "He's been injured in scuffles, gotten sick, even been shot--- so why does it feel so much worse this time?  Why am I so worried about him?"  She shifted restlessly, sinking back onto her heels.  "I feel like I'm betraying him, just sitting here without doing anything to help---"

Ai looked down at where her hands lay loosely clasped on the tabletop before her.  "And what would you be able to do, if you were to go out?  Would you try to confront this Ojiwa, or perhaps Nodomo?  Foolish in the extreme.  As for Kudo-kun…..  You would be better off resting than worrying yourself ill; that's counterproductive.  You'll be far better off if you're clear-minded when we go looking for him in the morning."

That made Ran turn and stare at her, narrow-eyed.  "'Look for him?'  So far I've been treated like a little girl by the people I expected would help me the most; do you really think they'll let me look for him?"  Her words was bitter.

Ai regarded her calmly.  "And why should that matter, Mouri-chan?  Before you changed, I respected you because you were your own woman--- and an intelligent one, at that.  Should I change my opinion now that you're like me?  It'd be quite a pity if you were to take on the attitude of a child as well as the appearance."  She smiled a little at the arrested expression on Ran's face.  "Believe me, Mouri-chan--- I am not helpless.  We are not helpless, despite our….. little problems."

Ran's eyebrows rose, despite her despondency; had Ai just made a joke?

"So: Shall we go looking for your stray Shinichi tomorrow?  With or without your parents' help?"  The young scientist leaned forward to rest her chin on her palm, grey eyes fixed on Ran's own.

Slowly the other girl nodded.  "Right.  And we can call Sonoko, too--- she can come with us, give us an 'adult' escort---"

Ai blinked hard at that, sitting back a little; she shuddered slightly.  "I suppose, if we must…..  I take it that you've explained matters to her, then?"

Ran nodded, her eyes crinkling a bit at the scientist's reaction.  "She found out by accident--- don't worry, it won't happen again!  But it's just as well, really; I mean, this way Shinichi and I—and you—won't have to depend on my parents all the time to go places."  She sighed, looking tired; her eyes were lidding with the exhaustion of worry, drooping.  "I was the 'adult escort' before, but now we need someone else; and---" she glanced at the trio on the couch "--- somehow I can't see my father always being as, well, as easy about things as I was….."

The small girl opposite her sighed, brushing back a strand of caramel-colored hair.  It was late and she was beginning to feel the need for sleep herself.  "As you say.  It is much easier to move around with an adult presence.  Although--- no offence, Mouri-chan, but your friend is….." she paused carefully, trying to be diplomatic (not something, admittedly, that she had much talent at).

Ran rolled her eyes and gave her a small, somewhat wry smile; Ai found herself marveling at the odd effect of the adult expression on such a very young countenance—a little girl's face, like her own.  "I know, I know: an airhead.  But she has a good heart, and she's not really an idiot… she just likes to talk."  Ai arched one eyebrow and looked slightly dubious at that, but subsided at last with a resigned nod.

***************************************************

"So….. you're saying it really was blood in the samples…" growled Mouri Kogoro, rubbing at his moustache.  Beside him Kisaki Eri watched her daughter across the room even as she attended to the conversation.  The lawyer's face was set and slightly grim.

Professor Agasa nodded gloomily.  "Hrrmph, yes, I'm afraid so.  Luminol's a definitive test; the first sample, the one from the flashlight--- it had a large percentage of human skin-cells present.  Shreds, scrapings--- from the evidence presented, I'd say that someone was struck hard with the end."  He looked uneasy, glancing sideways at the two young girls talking softly at his table; the portly scientist lowered his voice a little more.  "And….. there was one last thing that I didn't tell Ran….. I found something else in the paint-chip sample: a very, very small fragment of bone.  Cranial, I believe--- I'm no forensicist, but the structure of the chip and the porosity of its surface lends me to believe---"

"--- that somebody got hit over the skull with the flashlight and then slammed headfirst into the wall."  Mouri grimaced, his dark eyes narrowing.  Eri-san made a low sound deep in her throat; her face was pale.  Then her eyes sharpened behind her glasses, and she pinned the scientist down with a needle-like glare.  "And you knew about this and didn't call us?  Agasa, what were you thinking?"

The older man sighed, one hand rubbing at a kink in his neck; it had been a difficult evening.  He shot the lawyer a pained look.  "Do we have to go over that again, Eri-san?  I was not aware of the bone fragment or presence of blood until I tested the samples, and I was out of Luminol until yesterday; had I known….. he trailed off.

Eri shifted impatiently in her seat, an intense frown on her face.  "We need to decide what to do--- a plan of attack, as it were.  Going to the police is out as yet; it's too soon, even if we're certain that Conan-kun is actually missing."  She arched one eyebrow at her husband, who grunted in affirmation.  "I'd prefer to keep Ran as much out of it as possible; I know she's still a young woman, still an intelligent adult despite appearances--- but she's still very vulnerable as she is.  I don't want to risk her too."

"So…."  Agasa tugged at his moustache thoughtfully, eyeing the woman with a respectful gaze.  "What shall we do?"

Kisaki Eri smiled, a shark-sharp smile that had graced many a courtroom.  "I have a few ideas….."

Her husband blanched slightly; he knew that smile.  Wishing violently that he had a cigarette, he pulled out a small notebook and pen from one pocket with a sigh.  It was going to be a long night.

***************************************************

As unusual experiences went, mused Kudo Shinichi, this one had to be somewhere near the top of the list.  It wasn't often that a detective investigating a murder ended up trying to comfort the victim.  Especially while said detective was unconscious, half-dead himself, and locked inside a filing-cabinet.

*What was that old Chinese curse?  'May you live in interesting times,' ne?*

It was turning out to be a long night.

He looked over at the bench where the two boys sat together, talking quietly.  From his vantage point by the shooting-gallery (where he had moved to give them some privacy--- a moot point at best, all things considered) he could tell that Toshiro-kun had calmed down a little from his previous nervousness.  The poor kid was totally unaware of what had happened to him; he had nothing more than a vague memory of being chased down by Ojiwa Ryu, the "bad man" from his school.  Apparently he had overheard some of his father's conversations with Ojiwa-san, or perhaps had witnessed the science teacher threatening his dad; either way, he had somehow gotten in over his head…..

Shinichi sighed, running his hand through his hair.  Bad enough that he—they—were stuck inside a possible coffin in a possible tomb; now they had a ghost for company.

But….. the poor little guy…..  How could you be afraid of a seven-year-old murder victim?  A kid was still a kid.

Leaning against the railing in front of the gallery, he listened a little more intently.  Overhead the sky was clear and dark, as opaque and oblique as the bottom of a well.

"So, how come you followed him to the park?"  That was his other self, his Conan-self talking now.  For the thousandth time he wondered idly why they had split like they had--- being his Shinichi-self in his dreams, that he could accept; but why was Conan there at all? 

It was as if they hadn't split, but had instead twinned… somehow the part of him that lived through his waking hours had become as valid a person as Kudo Shinichi.

Well, he didn't mind; at least he had company.

The boy was answering back now.  "…. and I guess I was scared for my daddy; that teacher--- the Bad Man--- he was really mean-looking, and he always yelled at Daddy when he came over.  He told him that they could make lots more money if they kept on doing what they were doing, and not to worry about anything else…..  I thought that if I found out what he was doing I could tell you and the other detective guys at school, and you could call the police and put him in jail."  Toshiro paused, brow wrinkling as he remembered.  "The first time I saw Daddy go off with one of those packages he was dressed up like he was going fishing, and it was almost dark.  So I borrowed Mitsohiko-kun's flashlight from him at school, 'cause I decided I'd follow him the next time he went." 

Toshiro's voice trembled ever so slightly, and his next words were more of a whisper.  "I—I wanted to make the Bad Man leave him alone, you know?  I wanted to save him."  The thin shoulders slumped.

"I went to the park….. and Daddy was fishing again; only he wasn't really fishing, 'cause he didn't have any bait.  He had one of those long skinny packages with him, and I saw him put it in that drain-pipe--- you know, the one that comes down to the water?  He stuffed it back there with his fishing-pole.  And then he went away, but not TOO far away--- I saw him hide behind a tree, so I went over and looked in the pipe with the flashlight."

Toshiro fidgeted a little; he obviously didn't like remembering what came next.  Shinichi edged a bit nearer, listening carefully.

"I couldn't reach the stuff that Daddy had put into the pipe at first, but then I saw this piece of metal sticking up just a little out of the ground and I pulled on it.  It was a skinny piece of wire with a hook on the end, and I used it to pull the stuff out.  I wonder who buried it there?  It worked just great."  Beside Toshiro, Conan grimaced; so that was how they had removed the packages.  It explained the long, thin scrapes on the inside of the drainage-pipe.

The kid wiped at his nose with the back of his hand; he had grown a little paler, his freckles standing out in sharp relief.  "Then--- then when I was looking at the package of stuff and wondering what it was, the Bad Man came.  He looked like he was going fishing too, but when he saw me he dropped his pole and bucket and grabbed me by the arm.  Daddy saw him and came running across the park, and then they yelled at each other a lot and--- and I tried to get away, but the Bad Man wouldn't let me go-----"

The two detectives sat silent, listening.  There was nothing else they could do.

Toshiro took a deep breath and let it out.  "He said he'd "keep me for col-, colat-, ummm, col-at-er-al, whatever that means.  And then he picked me up and he told me to shut up or he'd HURT me really bad, and he told my Daddy that when he could count on him behaving he'd give me back.  And then we left the park."

Now the boy was trembling visibly; Shinichi came up to sit quietly beside him on the bench, and the small boy looked up at him, eyes huge and scared.  "I didn't want to get hurt, so I stayed still--- he put me in his car, and he said lots and lots of bad words over and over.  He was REALLY mad.  Then we drove back to the school, and I asked him what he was gonna do.  He told me to shut up and do what he said or he'd hurt my Daddy, and then he said he had a place for me to stay in, and he dragged me down the hall by my arm and it hurt 'cause he was twisting it and I started yelling and-----"  He paused for breath, then went on.  Toshiro's small fists were knotted together in his lap.

"--- he took out some keys and opened up this little tiny room; it was really small and dark, and he said I'd have to stay there, and he shoved me in-----"

He stopped, full halt.  Something trembled in his dark eyes, something danced just beyond the reach of memory, something he did not want to see or talk about.  Shinichi gently rested one hand on the boy's shoulder, saying softly "It's okay if you don't' want to talk any more, Toshiro-kun.  I know this is hard for you."

The white face turned up to his, and the small head shook violently.  "NO--- I want to tell you this.  I haven't talked to ANYBODY except Conan-kun since then, and I want to talk about it.  Maybe if I talk about it I can understand it better; that's what they teach us in school, right?"  He gave a wavering smile to his classmate, who returned it in a slightly strained form.  "Yeah, that's right…. Go on, then."  Toshiro nodded, comforted slightly.  He continued:

"The Bad Man tried to shove me in the little room, but…..  I hate small places; I don't know why, but I do.  I think it's 'cause when I was a really little kid, you know, just a baby, I got shut up in a closet by mistake.  I just barely remember it, but I REALLY hate small, dark places.  Daddy always opens the window in my room for me at night.  When the Bad Man tried to put me in there, I saw that it was dark and that it had just this tiny little window and it was *closed*, and I guess I—I sort of panicked.  I tried to run away."

Dark eyes blinked; Toshiro frowned hard, trying to remember.  "He….. he had grabbed Mitsuhiko-kun's flashlight from me when he picked me up at the park, and when I tried to run I think he HIT me with it.  I don't really remember….. but my head was hurting and I was lying on the floor.  Maybe he knocked me out?  I dunno.  My head hurt a REAL lot, and I tried to sit up and it made me sick…..  I could see him in the little room--- he had this wooden box pulled out and he was prying it open….."

Shinichi looked at Conan; Conan looked back, and both felt more than a little ill.  So Ojiwa had intended to put the boy inside the box from the beginning.  Shinichi tried hard not to think of science specimens and glass jars.

Not noticing their glances, the boy went on.  He was speaking slower now, struggling with memory:  "The Bad Man--- he came back out into the hallway, and he reached for me.  I got back up and tried to run again, but he was really mad now.  He shouted at me and grabbed me by the wrist and he pulled really HARD, and he jerked me off my feet and I hit something--- the wall?--- with my head, I think….."

"And that's all.  I don't remember anything else for a long time after that."

"But when I woke up, my head didn't hurt anymore….. I was really confused, though; I didn't know why I was stuck in that little room, and when I finally got out I didn't understand HOW I got out, or why nobody would talk to me!  All the kids at school just walked by me like I wasn't there!"  He sniffed, wiping at his nose and eyes again, scooting a little closer to Shinichi's reassuring adult bulk.  "I couldn't understand ANYTHING--- not why I couldn't go home, not why my Daddy couldn't seem to see me when I was right in front of him, nothing!  And sometimes I'd want to be someplace and then suddenly I'd be *there*, only I wouldn't have walked there or anything… though that was kinda neat, I guess."

"But I kept coming back to the school; every time I'd get too far away or stay away for too long I'd get scared that the Bad Man would come chase me down again and hurt me, or he'd hurt my Daddy.  I didn't want him to hurt my Daddy."  Toshiro's eyes shone with tears in the lights of the amusement park; the strobes from the arcade reflected off narrow, damp tracks that streaked his pale cheeks with silver.

"I didn't want to go back to the school; once or twice I tried to stay away….. but I just had to go back--- I don't know why, but I had to!  And then, after a little while, I thought about you detective guys again….."  He sighed, leaning a little sideways. 

The boy turned his head to smile wanly at Conan.  "I could talk to you; you saw me-- I don't know why, but you did.  So first I got the flashlight out of that little room where the Bad Man left it and gave it back to Mitsuhiko-kun, and then I went to see you.  You remember?  I talked to you and that new girl, Rin….. She could see me too."  He perked up a very little.  "She's pretty.  Is she your *girlfriend*, Conan-kun?"  Some of the pain left his young face as he waited for an answer.

The response he received was interesting; simultaneously both Conan and Shinichi blushed a little, grinned and said "Umm, yeah."  They glanced at each other, then at Toshiro; his expression hovered somewhere between perplexed and interested.  Finally he shrugged; "She looks nice.  Is she here somewhere too?"  As the mood lightened a little, he leaned back and paid a little more attention to his surroundings.

Conan shook his head.  "No…..  I sort of wish she was, but she isn't.  Look--- Toshiro-kun--- do you mind if me and my, uhh, nii-chan go away and talk for a minute?  We're just gonna walk down the sidewalk a bit--- I promise, we'll be right back." 

The boy looked nervous and slightly frightened, but subsided at the reassurance.  "Okay…..  Can I play with the shooting gallery stuff?  I promise I won't break anything----"

Conan looked at Shinichi, who shrugged with raised eyebrows.  "Sure; I don't see why not.  We'll be right back….."  The two walked off together to the sounds of Toshiro's increasingly enthusiastic attempts to knock over targets with propelled corks.

Their steps echoed faintly off the attractions to either side; in the distance, the entry to the Mystery Coaster loomed like an open mouth.  Conan shivered ever-so-slightly--- he had no wish to go there tonight.  Beside him his older self walked with head bent, hands in pockets.  Shinichi sighed; there was a weight of sorrow in the sound.  "We've got to tell him, you know…" he said softly.  "He needs to understand--- the poor kid doesn't deserve to be kept in the dark like this."

Conan shivered again.  "Kept in the dark…" he whispered to himself, remembering a wooden box and the contents within it.  Beside him Shinichi fought off an identical shiver.

"So, how?  How do you explain to a seven-year-old that he won't be going home?  How do you explain to him… that he's been murdered?"  Conan glanced over one shoulder back at the busily-shooting child behind them; Toshiro was moving from one pop-gun to another, a determined expression on his thin face.  "Hell, it's hard enough for US to believe this; how do we make HIM believe it?"

Shinichi gave him a sideways look.  "You're doing it again--- expecting *me* to have answers.  I don't know; I just don't know.  I-- never believed in ghosts, not even when I was a little kid--- um, well, you know what I mean."  He too looked back at the boy, and the grim lines of his jaw softened.  "Doesn't look much like you'd expect a ghost to look, does he?  He just looks….. normal."

Their feet scuffed through a drift of dead leaves, making soft crunching sounds.  "Maybe he doesn't know how to be anything else yet; or maybe that's how ghosts really are… normal, once you get past being scared of them."  Conan's words were tentative and uncertain; he stole another glance back over his shoulder at Toshiro.  "You know, if the Black Organization's capsule had worked like they had planned it to….. we'd be in the same boat.  Dead, I mean.  'Course, it wouldn't be we, would it?"  He snorted.

His alter ego chuckled briefly; then his eyes turned serious again.  "So… which one of us gets to break the news?  You're more familiar to him, he knows you better---"

"--- but YOU'RE the adult; he'll believe you."  Conan shook his head firmly, his eyes betraying a certain sympathy.  "Sorry, hero; I think you've got the job."  With one accord they both drew to a halt, their two figures casting identical shadows as they looked back towards Toshiro.  He had left off playing with the cork-guns by now and was tossing pebbles idly into the ornamental pond; the small splashes reached their ears like ghosts of sound, barely audible over the breeze.

Shinichi sighed a reluctant sigh.  "Yeah."  They began to walk back.

As they moved along the sidewalk he older boy spoke, half to himself; there was a peculiar, slightly sad smile on his face.  "Y'know, in a weird sort of way I'm a bit like a ghost, I guess; oh, I didn't die or anything like that--- but I'm what we were up to the moment that *you* showed up--- and you're what we've been since.  You're getting older, growing; I'm not changing at all.  Isn't that what a ghost does?  Never changes, never moves on--- if we don't find a cure and Edogawa Conan the kid someday becomes Edogawa Conan the man, I wonder if I'll still be here?"

His other self gave him a rather cross-eyed look.  "Huh; and what've YOU been smoking?"

Shinichi aimed a half-hearted cuff at the boy's head, who ducked.  "It's just something I was thinking about, half-pint," he growled.  "Who knows--- someday you might be a grotty old man and I'll still be stuck here inside our dreams, seventeen years old."  He grinned a little.  "Sure hope I've got Ran to keep me company if that's the case….."

The smaller boy quirked an eyebrow in his direction.  "Hentai."

"Hey!"

"Don't you 'Hey!' me.  Hentai.  It's like I said before--- you just want to sit back and *neck* while I have to run things.  And quit calling me 'half-pint' or I'll kick you in the kneecaps."

"You wish, half-pint….."

They were coming up on the pond now; Toshiro was attempting to skip the flatter stones from the bank across the narrow stretch of water.  The lights of the shooting gallery reflected in the dark surface, sending wavering lines across to break in near-silence on the far shore.  He glanced up as they approached, smiling a little hesitantly.  "I almost got one all the way across!  You want to try, Conan-kun?"  In answer the boy knelt down on the bank to scoop up several stones, flicking the first one sideways with a practiced motion; it danced across the water, splash-splash-splash-ploop! to sink beyond sight just short of its destination.

Shinichi sat down on the manicured grass of the bank with a grunt; he smiled a little awkwardly at the thin boy who was now peering at Conan critically, watching how he held his stones.  "Umm, Toshiro-kun?"

The boy threw another stone.  "Hmmm?"

"I….. want to talk to you about something Conan-kun and I figured out.  Something about, well, about you—and why you've been so confused lately.."  Toshiro paused briefly, turning a slightly apprehensive face up towards Shinichi.  "Me?"

The young detective sighed again.  "Yeah, you.  No, it's okay--- you can keep on with the stones if you want.  Can you make three skips?"  He watched as the boy frowned in concentration, aiming carefully.  "It's just that….. well, you know how some of those stones never reach the other side?  You know how they sink instead, how they don't get where they're supposed to go?"

The boy eyed him sideways, confused.  "Uhhhh…. Yeah?"

Conan flicked another stone across the water; it bounced off the far shore with a triumphant 'clack!'  "He's not an idiot, you know; just tell him the truth and get it over with…" he muttered, eyes on the water.

Shinichi swallowed.  "Okay.  Toshiro?"  Now he had the boy's attention; his dark, wary eyes were fixed on the teenager's face, and he tilted his head to one side.  "Tell me what?  *What* truth?"

The older youth looked down at the soft grass beneath him; he ran his fingers through the blades, stroking them as if soothing some great, green beast.  "When you were---  You said you thought the Bad Man made you hit your head hard on the wall, right?  Back there at the school?  And… and afterwards, you said that your head… stopped hurting, right?"

Toshiro nodded slowly.  "It really hurt a lot just before that.  Why?"

"Well….. this is kind of hard for me to explain, and I'm not sure I understand it myself, but….. Conan and I, we think we know why you don't hurt now, why you stopped hurting then.  We think you… can't really be hurt anymore."

The boy looked at him, perplexed.  "Can't be hurt anymore?"

Shinichi tried to summon a smile.  "Yeah.  The Bad Man can't hurt you, *nobody* can….. ever again.  Because, well, if you get, um, killed, you *can't* be hurt anymore, right?"  The words hung heavily in the dark air beside the pond.

Toshiro looked even more confused than before; his stones dropped from his hands, rattled to the ground.  "Killed?  You mean….. killed like in being dead?"

On his other side, Conan closed his eyes for a moment.  When he spoke, his young boy's voice was very gentle.  "We think… that maybe you've become a, well, a sort of ghost, Toshiro-kun.  You know, like in the movies and the manga?  Only not a scary one.  That's what happens to some people when they get killed--- hey, did you ever watch the reruns of Yu Yu Hakusho?  Just like Yuusuke was at the beginning of the series!"  He attempted a reassuring grin at the other boy.

Toshiro frowned; his words came out slowly now.  "But… if I got made dead… if I got made a ghost… aren't I supposed to be scary?  I don't feel scary--- I don't know how I'm SUPPOSED to feel if I got made dead….."  The words trailed off into silence as he considered the idea.

Quiet; no sounds but the soft stirring of the breeze overhead, the lapping of water.  No birds chirped, no crickets sang in the bushes.  From the dark water three reflections stared up at the sky, three masks composed of cloud-white features and blank, expressionless holes for eyes.  Any one of them might have been a ghost.

The boy's lost whisper drifted on the wind:  "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now…. What do ghosts do?"

Shinichi and Conan sat in silence, staring at the pond.  And neither one knew what to say, not if their lives had depended on it.

***************************************************

Silence filled Professor Agasa's home like liquid in a cup; it was late, and only the distant ticking of the hall clock disturbed the quiet.  That, and the scribbling of Mouri Kogoro's pen as he jotted down the last of his notes.  "There… that'll do for a start."  The detective spoke softly, not wanting to wake the small figure huddled across the room on the padded bench.

His wife tugged her glasses off and rubbed briefly at her eyes; she was tired, and slightly distraught.  Conan had not made a late-night return (as she had been hoping for against hope all along), and worry for the young man/young boy was beginning to eat at her nerves.

She watched as her husband stood up stiffly, one hand massaging the small of his back; he looked as tired as she felt.  His dark eyes were shadowed now, and he stretched once, cracking his joints before moving across the room to where their transformed daughter slept in a kitten-like curl of small limbs.  Agasa sprawled in a snoring lump across one of his overstuffed chairs, and Haibara-san had long since gone to bed; but Ran had kept vigil at the window until exhaustion had simply knocked her out.

As Mouri gently began to scoop his small daughter up in his arms, she shifted, murmuring; her drowsy eyes opened, and Eri caught a few words of sleepy protest.  The detective sighed; carefully he lowered her back to the bench again, then reached for his suit jacket to drape it across the diminutive form that curled tighter in sleep.

Rubbing at his own eyes, he moved back to slump on the couch.  "She won't leave, will she?" asked Eri softly, leaning against her husband.  He shook his head, brow furrowed.  "I just don't understand her sometimes….. she cares so much for that idiot boy; why?"

Eri chuckled very softly, reaching up one hand to rub at the back of his neck; Mouri sighed, leaning into her hand.  Some of the lines of fatigue on his face relaxed a little.  "She's her own woman, Kogoro….. despite appearances.  She makes her own choices, and she has for years.  You and I may not see a lot in Shinichi--- though personally I think you're short-changing him; I really rather like the boy--- but she does, and that's what's important, ne?"

Mouri sagged against the back of the couch, his hands clasped behind his head.  He grumbled a little, but she could tell that his heart wasn't in it.  "Little brat's not worth half of her…" he muttered, face drawn down in a scowl.  His wife also leaned back, arms behind her head in an identical position.  "No father ever thinks any boy is worthy of his daughter-- none worth the title of 'father', anyway."  She blinked up at the ceiling, her eyes a little sad.  "You've had to raise Ran-chan without me for most of the past ten years; I know that's been hard… but you've done a good job, Kogoro.  She's turned out to be a wonderful young woman."

Now it was his turn to blink at Eri; compliments weren't her style at all.  "Uhhhh..... thanks….."  He cleared his throat, flushing.  "…half the time, I think she thought she was raising me, though-----"

Eri chuckled.  "She was.  She did a good job too."  He snorted in annoyance, but a grudging smile hid itself beneath his moustache.

There was a long, relatively peaceful moment of quiet.  Agasa's soft snores had begun to take on thunderous proportions by the time the lawyer spoke next.  "Do you really think we'll be able to find Conan-kun?"  Her words were tentative, filled with a soft worry.

Mouri sighed; he quirked one irritable eyebrow at her, black eyes tired.   "Hrrrmmph.  Depends on whether or not this Nodomo folds under pressure--- or breaks.  If he caves, he'll squeal, and we'll have more to work with; if he breaks, he might go running to Ojiwa….. and then?  No idea, but it won't be good."  He smoothed his moustache in a gesture she had seen many times before, a movement that indicated dubiousness on his part.

She studied his profile as he yawned.  There were so many memories behind them, so many things that rose to the surface when she watched her husband like she was doing right now: past arguments (too many), struggles, good times and bad---  When Kisaki Eri had walked away from her husband and child, she had done so with good reason.  But now, watching him try to think past his weariness, she wondered what her life might've been like had she stayed.

He was such a stubborn, opinionated, pain-in-the-ass of a man.  But he was also a good man; sometimes weak, definitely lazy, occasionally an idiot--- but when he allowed himself to, he could be a very good man indeed.  Right now he was concerning himself over someone who had (in his opinion) screwed up his only daughter's life royally--- and yet his wife had no doubt that, despite his personal feelings, he would do his best to find their missing charge.

Mouri was leaning back against the sofa-pillows now; even as she watched, his eyes were drifting closed.  Not surprising; a little earlier Eri had heard the hallway clock chime 2 a.m.  Her own eyes strayed back to her daughter's sleeping form; so small, so very small--- and how very innocent she looked, her dark hair tumbling in soft waves over her sleep-blushed face.  But that wasn't really the carefree countenance of a true child--- even in sleep, Ran's eyes seemed to tighten with worry and a crease came and went between her fine brows.  Her daughter was murmuring something now, talking in her sleep as she had done since childhood; her mother smiled at old memories and listened closely:

"…okay…'Nichi-kun d'n't leave me, wait….. 'm coming…..late f'r school, you twit….."

Eri forced down the lump that seemed to be forming in her throat.  Shinichi…..  Such a strange young man… how hard it must've been, spending the past year stuck in that peculiar shape, like a ghost of his former self.  Trapped and desperate; hardly anyone around he could talk to about it, just Agasa, that boy from Osaka and the Haibara girl---  Loneliness had broken stronger spirits than hers before; she wondered how she would've held up in just such a situation.

Another whisper of sleep-blurred words drifted through the room:  "…..love you, 'Nichi….." and the woman blinked back sudden tears.  She wondered (not for the first time) if her daughter was stronger than she was. 

She didn't really want to know.

With a sigh that held as much regret in it as love, Kisaki Eri snuggled a little closer to her husband's slumbering form and closed her eyes.

***************************************************

They were walking now, the three of them.  Garish lights flickered and danced to either side as signs flashed their cheerful messages into the dark, telegraphing signals meant for many but only seen there by three.  Overhead the Mystery Coaster roared and clacked its way on its endless rounds, the train of cars stopping and starting from their station without benefit of an operator's attention.

Sometimes Shinichi and Conan wondered who ran the rides.

Toshiro's eyes were--- well, the best description was *haunted.*  The boy had been silent for the most part during their walk, biting his lip occasionally while he worked out his thoughts.  His two companions had also held their peace, now and then trading troubled looks over his head.

At last they paused; they were standing before one of the many silent cafés and restaurants that dotted the amusement park.  Shinichi turned to the two boys with him.  "You two want something to eat?  A drink, maybe, or some ice cream?"

At that Toshiro perked up; no matter what had happened to him, he still was a kid, after all.  "Ice cream?"  He almost smiled.  "Could I have chocolate?"  Beside him Conan nodded, relieved to feel the sadness in the air lighten a little.  "Sure, 'onii-chan'.  Chocolate for me too, please."

With a 'Tell me something I don't know' look on his face, Shinichi smiled wryly at his other self and slipped behind the counter to busy himself with the refrigerators.  It was an odd thing, but the two of them had never found a door barred or a cabinet locked anywhere in their little dreamscape; this wasn't the first time that they had helped themselves to a snack or a soda.  Privately he wondered just what they would do if, someday, they found out that said items (so far considered solely imaginary)actually had turned up *missing* in the real, waking world…..  He shook his head and added quantities of whipped cream all 'round, gathering up the dishes.

Conan and Toshiro were talking quietly as he walked up, both seated at a table.  The umbrella that centered their tabletop was folded, but Shinichi knew that it was patterned with a cheerful assortment of tropical birds; he and Ran had sat beneath it the last time they had come to Tropical Land, less than two weeks previously, when their world had changed forever.

"… always thought I'd be scared if I met a ghost, but--- am I s'posed to be scared of me?" Toshiro was saying, his voice subdued.  Beside him Conan chuckled a little wanly and shook his head.  "Nahh… why not just forget about what ghosts are supposed to be like?  I mean, neither of us knows anything about it, so---"  He looked up, his face brightening in relief as Shinichi slid the dishes onto the table.  The next few minutes were filled with the scrapings of plastic spoons against containers and the appreciative sounds of three rather stressed-out people taking a break.

Ice cream, reflected Conan as he swallowed a bite, couldn't be counted as a cure to all ills--- but it damn sure helped.  Even imaginary ice cream.  He burped; Toshiro giggled.

At last they all sat back, satisfied.  Shinichi tossed a paper napkin at the two boys; "Here, you two—you look like you ate it without using your hands.  Clean up, okay?"  Conan shot him a dirty look but complied, as did Toshiro.

"Soooooo…..  What do you want to do next, hm?  Toshiro?"  No reply; the boy had paused in wiping his face and was staring at Shinichi with an arrested look.  "Hey, Toshiro-kun?  What's wrong?"  Across from him he heard his other self suddenly draw in a breath---

--- and he felt the familiar, flooding strangeness come over him, the well-known moment of dizzy fading and blurring.  Kudo Shinichi had barely a moment to meet Conan's eyes, to hear Toshiro's startled exclamation before everything went away---

*--- We're waking up---*

Fade to black…..

***************************************************

…..Black….. 

It was dark, and he was awake now; there was the momentary usual confusion as memories shuffled and blended, danced and skittered around each other like marbles during an earthquake before dropping into their proper places.  Then he sighed; two people fractured and reassembled, becoming one again as Conan/Shinichi opened his eyes.

*Yeah, black.  It's a pretty sorry situation when I have to be dreaming to see any light-----*  With an unvoiced moan, he slid both hands up to cradle his aching skull.  All the discomforts and dull aches of his confinement had been waiting for him, and they had brought friends with them: thirst, a tingling numbness in his limbs where they had fallen asleep, a throbbing heat somewhere behind his eyes--- it reminded him of how he had felt the last time he had gotten a fever.  He probably had one, then—why not?  *Just something else to add to the collection,* he thought sourly.

*Head hurts—damn, damn, damn; it was easier to think when I was unconscious.*

He shifted his shoulders, trying to bring some relief to his stiff back; his abused throat rewarded him with painful twinges from the movements, making him gasp.  *Got to be some way of getting out of here--- clear your head, Kudo; now how did you plan to try it?  Oh yeah, my picks--- one of 'em might work as a screwdriver…*  Running small fingertips up the back of the locking mechanism brought him the impression of several tiny screw-heads; if he could just manage to loosen them…..

Fumbling, nerveless fingers tugged the set of picks from his pocket, and Conan thanked the fates that they hadn't fallen out during his earlier scuffle.  *Let's see…. DAMN, my head hurts--- it's not helping my concentration at all--- knurl-pick, hook, extractor, tensioners….. ball-pick, diamond-pick, rake….. warded picks….. there!  Yeah, maybe this one… now, if I only had some light…..*

It took long, intense moments of work to loosen the first screw even the slightest--- long moments where the pick slid and wobbled in his fingers, scraped painfully sideways to jab into his palm or the back of one hand.  Conan had to wedge one elbow at a difficult angle to work at all, and the other hand was nearly useless; all it was good for was to steady his other wrist.  At last the first screw dropped silently out to rattle and slide beneath him; he breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief and took a rest, rubbing at his tingling fingers and cramped muscles.  But through the burn of his abused hands the young detective's mind sang with relief: at last he was doing something!

Next screw.  He set to work.

*Damn tiny things, aren't they?  Should be glad, I guess--- my fingers just aren't that strong; if they had been larger, it might've been a problem…..  There; screw number two.  Good riddance.  Okay, rest now…..*

He worked steadily, taking long breaks when his small hands trembled too much to be useful.  The picks slid more from weariness than from inaccuracy.  Conan felt beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his neck to pool uncomfortably beneath him; the box was stuffy, close with the moisture of his own breath.  There was no danger of suffocation--- he was well enough aware of that, due to the fetor that crept in and nearly stifled him (he tried not to think of its source)--- but it was not pleasant.

The third screw slid out.

The fourth…. and he eased the locking mechanism off of its brackets, the coolness of the metal smooth against his scratched skin.  *Okay, rest a moment; wait for it.  Take a breather, take it easy; it won't go away, that's for sure.*

*Please God, don't let the stuff stacked against the drawer be too heavy.  It's gonna be hard, that I know.  If I were pushing upwards it wouldn't be so tough--- but sideways, that'll be difficult.*

*Rest.  Lie here and breath.  Rest.*

*Breath.  Be glad you're still breathing, even if your head aches.  Some people aren't that lucky.*

*……………………………………..*

 *Poor kid.  Wish there was something more I could do.*

*Never mind, Kudo; just get yourself out of here first--- then you can see what else you can do.  Get out, find Ran and make sure she's safe, make sure the kids are alright… nothing else matters right now, not yet.  Later.*

*Later.*

*Right now….. let's get OUT of this hellhole.*

Hissing with the pain of movement, he shifted to wedge himself awkwardly as much on his side as he could, his spine against the file-cabinet's front and his fingertips pressed against the cabinet's back wall.  The inner walls of the drawer only came halfway up in the back, a fact that he was shakily thankful for; escape would have proven impossible without something to gain purchase against.

He pushed; the drawer shifted---

--- shifted---

--- half an inch.  No more; it jarred heavily against something with a dull bump.

*Shit.*  He braced himself again, and pushed harder---

No movement.  The whatever-it-was didn't budge in the least.

*SHIT.  This is NOT good.  Come on, come on-----*

The following long, endless minutes were filled with a regular rhythm of pushing, swearing internally when the deadweight on the other side refused to move, rest, and then more pushing.  Conan's breathing grew ragged as the pounding in his head increased with his efforts; each breath rasped through his damaged throat like a saw, and his muscles began to burn like fire at being pushed far past their small limit.  He was strong for someone his size, but…..

…..not strong enough.  Not nearly strong enough.

*Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!  I have GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE!!!*  Red spots were dancing in front of his eyes by now, accompanied by flashes of brilliant light and a distant roaring in his ears; he braced himself and strained one more time, one more time, one more time one more time one more time one more time…..

One more time was, finally, too much for his concussed and aching skull.  His headache grew to blinding proportions---

----- and he felt himself spiraling down, down like water into a drain, down into a blackness much deeper than anything inside his prison as the pounding finally grew too painful to be ignored.  Throbbing and insistent, it blotted out his limited world with agony and the sounds of his own heart beating, driving him away from freedom like the monstrous rhythm of a huge, tyrannical drum.  As Conan slid beneath the waters of true unconsciousness, his last thoughts were of despair:

*I failed----- Ran-----*

***************************************************

Dawn had barely shown itself as the faintest glimmer in the day's eye when a tiny, buzzing sound disturbed what passed for silence in the Agasa residence sleeping quarters.  The small lump buried under the light covers of late Summer stirred, and after a moment groped among the sheets for the disturbing buzz.  It cut off abruptly, and a small hand clutching a pager unit emerged.

Sleepy grey eyes blinked at the tremulous rays of sunlight, then flicked down to the pager; Ai Haibara stretched, a small smile of satisfaction on her face.  Not wanting to disturb (or alert) the house's occupants with a noisy alarm-clock, she had simply 'borrowed' the Professor's personal pager, called a wake-up service with the pager's number and an early hour request, set it on 'vibrate' and tucked it into a pocket.  *Worked like a charm, too,* mused Ai.  She yawned.

Ten minutes later she was clothed and quite wide awake, slipping silently into the house's main lab and commons room.  Pausing in the doorway to survey the room, she noted with amusement that the Professor had sagged open-mouthed into his usual pattern of snores.  *He'll have a stiff back when he wakes up, having slept in that chair all night.  Silly man.*   She carefully slipped his glasses from his face and placed them soundlessly on the table beside his propped-up feet.

Mouri Ran still lay curled where she had been left the night before; *Stubborn, isn't she?  I suppose she sat up as long as she could.*  Her parents would be no trouble--- they were sleeping the sleep of the Just, each leaning against the other on the couch.  Ai knelt beside the other girl, sliding one small hand up to cover her mouth as she gently tapped one shoulder.  Ran's dark eyes slowly opened, vague with sleep; they widened as she took in the face before her.  With a cautioning finger across her lips, Ai moved back out of the way to allow the Mouri girl to wobble past her with commendable quietness.

She busied herself in the kitchen and her own bedroom while Ran dressed, adding an assortment of items to her backpack: a few snacks, a set of small binoculars, a camera, her snub-nosed handgun…..  That last item was removed from the backpack after a moment's secondary consideration; when she slipped on her child-sized shoulder-holster beneath her jacket, she was pleased to note that the small buldge the gun made was scarcely noticeable.

Going unarmed was, of course, unthinkable just now.  She supposed that her levels of paranoia had increased over the previous few months for one reason or another, but--- what was the Western saying?  'Better safe than sorry.'  Gaijins were full of such sayings.  'Once bitten, twice shy;' 'The burnt child fears the flame;' 'Look before you leap'…..

What a pity Kudo-kun hadn't taken that one to heart.

Ai checked the clip on her gun, sliding it neatly into place.  She dropped a second clip into her backpack, shrugged it on and headed downstairs to join Ran, who was waiting impatiently beside the door.

***************************************************

The day had begun in a swirl of rising air-currents, breezy and cool; it had the taste of Autumn in it already, a harbinger of the season that still lay a month or so ahead.

"You know," said Ai conversationally as they crossed a quiet street, "your parents are going to be rather unhappy with you for this."  She glanced to one side as a shopkeeper trudged out onto the sidewalk to set up a folding sign; most of the shops they were passing were just beginning their morning routines; even the earliest wouldn't be open for at least an hour as yet.

Ran shrugged, a defiant look sitting oddly on her young face.  "I left a note on the kitchen table."  She shifted her backpack with a flip of her shoulders and continued walking.

Ai arched one eyebrow.  "Ah; I suppose that should settle everything nicely, then."  She smothered a chuckle as Mouri-chan glanced sharply at her but said nothing for a moment.  The tenseness in the transformed young woman's jawline betrayed her fear and misery; she was obviously worried nearly sick over the missing Kudo.  After they had walked a little further, she spoke again, her words low and fierce.

"I… don't care if they get mad at me; I really don't.  I don't want them angry, but I… it'll be worth it, anyway.  We have to find him---"  Ran's voice shook, a slightly panicky note making the tone waver between that of a frantic woman and a frightened child.

Beside her Ai nodded.  "And we will.  We will, Mouri-chan."

The sidewalks and streets were nearly empty as yet, the usual heavy traffic merely a promise for later hours.  The two young girls walked in silence for a few more moments; then Ran spoke, staring straight ahead.  "I wish….."  Her voice was wistful, barely audible.

"You wish…?" inquired Ai, brushing wind-blown tendrils of tawny hair back from her eyes.

"I wish… there was some way to know if Shinichi--- if Conan-kun is---"  She seemed to quiver.

"Alive?"  Ai smiled slightly at the Mouri girl's soft intake of breath.  "If he has any chance at all, he's alive.  Kudo-kun's ability to survive through adverse conditions is second to none.  I'd worry less about that and more about how we're going to find him."  A faint frown crossed her normally calm face; she tucked her hands in her pockets, staring straight ahead as she walked.

"Ai-chan?"

"Mmm?"

"Why are you so certain we'll find Shi-, I mean, Conan-kun?  Please--- I need to know!  Why?"

Ai blinked, glancing sideways to find Ran's large eyes fixed on hers.  She stopped for a moment, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets.  "I… simply am.  I simply do."  She snorted briefly.  "Amusing, isn't it?  The scientist asks you to trust her intuition.  But I do believe we'll find him, and I'm certain he's alive….. somewhere.  As certain as I am that he's thinking about you and worrying about you, Mouri-chan."  For a moment a real smile sparkled somewhere deep in her grey eyes.  "Sinchronicity….. such an interesting phenomenon….." she murmured, beginning to walk forward again.  They only had a couple more blocks to go.

Beside her, Ran let out a deep sigh.  "I'm worried, I can't HELP but be worried--- but… for some reason, I think you're right.  I hope--- no; no, I believe you're right."  Her eyes were down-turned towards the sidewalk; they sparkled liquidly, and something fell from them to mark a tiny dark spot on the white concrete below.  Half under her breath, she whispered:  "Damn you, Shinichi, for making me worry like this…..  Be alright, please….."

Ai held her peace.  But after a few more moments…

"Ai-chan?"

"Yes?"

"Shinichi… told me about your sister.  I'm really sorry; it must be hard for you."

Nothing; then, very softly: "Thank you…..  You—were there, weren't you?"

Ran nodded.  "I got there just after she--- Conan was with her when—when she died.  But I guess you know that, don't you?"  She sighed.  "I wish there was something more we could have done.  This Black Organi-"

A hand slapped over her mouth; Ran blinked, then jerked her head back, staring at her companion to see something she had never seen before:

Terror, flashing bright and instantaneous in the eyes of Haibara Ai, formerly known as Mayano Shiho.  "Don't speak of them out here!" she hissed; then she seemed to gather her self-control around her again, settling her composure back into place the way a bird settles its feathers.  Ran swallowed once, then nodded.

Ai's fingers slipped inside her jacket momentarily, brushing against her shoulder holster; her thin shoulders relaxed a little, the fear leaving her eyes again.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence.

***************************************************

"---can't BELIEVE Ran'd pull something like this--- it had to be that Haibara girl--- she---" sputtered Kogoro Mouri, hurriedly pulling on his jacket as he, his wife and Professor Agasa headed for the car at a fast walk.  The three had woken to find their young charges absent, a terse note the only explanation.  Said note had been plain enough; 'I've gone with Ai-chan to try and find Shinichi; please do everything you can to help as well.  Will be back by sunset, if possible.  Love, Ran.'  Simple, direct and to the point.

Totally infuriating, as far as her father was concerned…. but still, very much to the point.  He complained bitterly to the other two until Eri finally lost her temper, rounding on him with a grim look on her face.

"Listen---" she snapped (using what her co-workers would have instantly identified as the Kisaki Shark Attack voice) "--- you can feel as abused and ill-used as you want; go ahead, be my guest!  But IF you want to help your daughter, you can start by cooperating and by dropping the temper tantrum!  I swear, mornings like this make me remember why I---"

She stopped, glaring; Mouri attempted to return the glare for a moment or two, and Agasa held his breath.  But the duel of wills finally ended, and the detective wilted gradually under her gaze, drooping; when he spoke again, his voice was a little less belligerent than before.  "I--- well, I just--- Eri, I don't want her to get hurt!  She's off gallivanting across the city with that—that—"  He began to bristle again, and the Professor spoke up quickly.  "Erm—don't underestimate Haibara-kun; she's a highly intelligent young woman, and she seems to have taken a liking to Ran-chan." 

He flushed under the fierce gazes turned in his direction.  "She's very… determined, as well, when she sets her mind to something.  I know you don't, erm, care much for her, ahhhh, recent actions, but---" he coughed once.  "I doubt you'll need to worry about Ran in Ai's company; she doesn't tend to act rashly."

Mouri-san snorted in disbelief, muttering darkly under his breath as he swung the car-door shut.  On the driver's side, Eri smiled rather grimly, aware of the oddly comforting weight of the small firearm in her purse.  *Let's just hope I don't need it…* she thought to herself as she put the car into gear.

***************************************************

"A handgun?"

Ai nodded, pulling her jacket back on.  "I thought it appropriate to travel armed.  One never knows when one might need such a thing, after all…..  I have no liking for guns, but they have their place."  She shrugged.

Ran nodded rather dubiously, running a brush through her shower-dampened hair.  A quick wash and change of clothes had improved her spirits a great deal, although she had been more than a little taken aback at seeing Ai's shoulder holster when she had come back down to the living room.

She held up the pendant that the Professor had supplied her with.  "I don't know how to shoot, but I do have a little something here…..  Agasa-san made it for me."  She clicked up the transparent cover, displaying the crosshairs; Ai nodded approvingly.  "Good; I assume it fires darts like Kudo-kun's watch does?  Excellent."

The young scientist glanced at the clock on the wall; calm grey eyes moved back to Ran's face, studying her.  "Did you call your friend?"

The other young woman moved restlessly across the room, still brushing her hair.  "She should be here shortly; don't worry, she's taking this seriously.  I know Sonoko's a bit scatterbrained, but when you really need to, you can count on her….."  Ran's voice trailed off abstractedly as she stopped beside the new computer terminal, running her fingers gently across the keyboard; it responded with a series of barely-audible click-click-clicks at her touch.  "You called someone while I was in the shower, didn't you?  Who?  Professor Agasa?"

Ai shook her head, leaning back against the couch cushions with her legs tucked cat-wise beneath her.  "No… I doubt he's home; he's likely out and about with your parents at this point."  She sighed, looking somewhat annoyed but resigned.  "We're going to have to call on other resources for this matter."

"Other resources?"  Ran tilted her head to one side, puzzled.

The young scientist crossed her arms in a habitual gesture.  "Mouri-chan…..  Do you have any idea how tiresome it is, playing the gradeschooler so much of the time?"  A small smile quirked one corner of her mouth.  "I know that Kuno-kun manages well enough, and I imagine you're doing just fine… but it's not to my taste, not at all--- not so long as I remember who I am, what my life before was."  For a fleeting moment the smile faded, and an expression of sadness seemed to sweep across her quiet face, traveling so swiftly that Ran was never quite certain if she had seen it or not.  "If I… were to forget everything, to be truly the child I seem… perhaps that wouldn't be so bad, not really.  But, as it is….."  She shrugged again, purposefully nonchalant.

"So…?"  Ran prompted her with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"So I've developed protective coloration, just as one exotic fish will hide itself within a school of less unusual ones.  If other children are around, drawing attention to themselves as children do--- ah well, then, I don't need to bother so much with playing the child, do I?"

"Oh no…..  Ai, you didn't….."

Ai smirked briefly.  "I'm afraid so.  Ayumi-chan, Genta-kun, Mitsuhiko-kun; they should be arriving any minute now."

Ran stared, aghast.  "You called the KIDS??  *Why*??"

Haibara shrugged for the third time.  "Camouflage, of course…" she said practically.

***************************************************

Darkness and cold metal; he was aware of these things subliminally, as distant as the sound of wind rattling rooftiles while he slept.  Darkness and cold metal and close confinement; even unmoving, he knew all of these while he lay unconscious under the weight of injury and stress.

Darkness and cold metal and a faraway voice, calling him back to the amusement park: a frightened voice from a frightened little boy.  ***Conan-kun?  Where ARE you?  Shinichi-oniisan?  Come back, I'm scared!  Conan-kun??***

His breathing deepened, slowed a little as his body went even limper than before; and somewhere out in the dark, while his weary brain rested and his aching muscles slowly healed, Conan/Shinichi went searching for the one who needed his help.

Save for his slow breathing, the tiny storage area lay as silent and dark as a tomb.

*********************************************************************************************************************

To Be Continued……….

YSABET'S NOTES:  See?  I didn't kill Conan off……. Not QUITE, anyway……  Many, many thanks to Becky Tailweaver, by the way, for lots of consultation notes on how it feels to have a concussion (stop hitting your head, Becky!); also mucho thankees to the reviewers!  They're just like chocolates, but less fattening.  Send more, and I'll get the next chapter written faster!  The show is heading for the grand finale pretty soon--- hope you like it.  By the way, if I weirded anybody out with this chapter, well--- YOU try and figure out how to tell a kid that he's dead, huh?  Tough work.  Bye!