Summery: What really happened on that first day of first grade for Conan Edogawa? One-shot look at, well...ducks. Just read it!

This is the story.

This is Conan's thoughts.

This is the focus of a sentence

So enjoy my story!

The Ducks

By strawbeby

"Class we have a new student today. Please say hello to Conan Edogawa,." The teacher stood at the head of the class with as much cheer and happiness that a first grade teacher could have.

The little boy whose shoulder her hand was on looked up at her. If she smile's any wider I think that her mouth will fall off.

"Hello, Conan," the class chimed, droning like they were being forced to say their math tables once more.

"Conan why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?" The teacher asked.

Fine, if you'll stop smiling like everything in the world is made of rainbows and gummi bears. "Well," Conan said. "I am 7 years old. I live with Rachel Moore. I am 3 feet 9 inches tall. I have to wear glasses. And no one listens to me."

"Oh." The stupid teacher still won't stop smiling. "Sounds like you are a very nice boy." Those were the bad parts, you nitwit. "Well, we've got to get going with class time. Why don't you take a seat next to Mitch, over there, Conan."

Conan dragged his book bag over to the empty seat. His raven black hair was untidy as usual, despite Rachel's vain attempts to tame it. Conan was wearing a blue suit/uniform with a bright red bow tie that stuck out underneath his chin, new red sneakers, and a brand new watch. I hate this. I am not in first grade, you fools! I am a senior! In high school! But no, I have to keep this secret identity that makes me look and act like a total fool, just to keep all you butt heads safe. I utterly loathe my life.

In Conan's frustrated pondering he didn't notice something white fly up into the air and land perfectly in the middle on the desk. But, when he was finished storing all of his things under the desk, there it was. A lined piece of paper with the word Conan written on it. He unfolded it then read what it said.

Conan

Meet us after the lunch bell in the playground, by the swings

Amy, Mitch, George

Conan looked up and sure enough there were three smiling faces around him looking at him to see if he got the message yet. He sighed. I guess that I should try and make friends. I will be out of here in three days, tops, though.

So when the lunch time bell did ring, Conan grabbed the brown paper sack lunch that Rachel had made for him and went over to where the three had already been standing by the swings.

They barely let him say hello, before Amy spoke up, as the unofficial leader. "Hi, Conan! How has your first day been?!"

"Okay, I guess..."

"Great! We just thought it necessary that you need a proper showing around the school, seeing that you're new and all." Amy smiled with a fierce intensity that reminded him of their teacher.

"You mean," Mitch said, "I thought that it was necessary and you just went along with it. And the least we could do is introduce ourselves to him."

George spoke up. "I still don't know if I like this idea. He looks like a total nerd to me."

Conan tried to protest the idea of him being called a nerd, but the discussion just went on over him.

"He does not look like a nerd," Mitch said. "He just looks very smart."

"Exactly. People like that need to be pounded into their place. As a matter of fact, you look like a nerd, too."

"Boys!" Amy whined. "Remember we are here to be Conan's friend. Not call him a nerd!" She then turned to Conan and said. "Boys. How immature. Let me start pointing things out to you."

And this whole conversation Conan had not gotten one word in edgewise, even though it was about him. But that's the way it seemed to go so Amy just went on and started showing him different things. "Okay Conan. That is the water fountain. When you are thirsty you need to push the button, and water for you to drink will shoot up out of no where. Then you need to lower your head and suck it in to drink it."

"And," Mitch added, "You can't put your mouth on the little thingy that the water comes out of. The teachers get mad at that."

"And," George added, "You are not allowed to kick it. Even if it shoots water in your face, because that's what it is supposed to do, you can't do that because the teachers will get mad at you."

"Over there," Amy resumed, "is the jungle gym. It's something that you can climb on and act like a monkey on. There is no jungle in it though, and I don't think that it was made out of a boy named Jim. George just says that to scare you."

"It is so true," George protested. "There was a little boy who was so bad and so rotten that the teachers stretched him out and covered him in steel. I heard him moan one day."

"Fibber. Anyways it's really fun to play on." Amy said.

"Yeah, just don't jump off of it really fast." Mitch said. "I did that once and my chin hit a bar and I almost pierced my tongue with my big front teeth and I had to eat macaroni and cheese for a week."

"And over there," Amy said, "are the big kids. Third graders. Don't mess with them, Conan. They are bad news."

"Except for me," George said. "I could handle them anytime of the day or night. I'm not scared of nothing."

"Right you are, George," Amy said. And on and on they went describing everything that they could get their eyes on in the playground, the whole time not letting Conan say a thing. A little over enthusiastic aren't they? It was around the end of lunch time when they had finished most of their food when they finally thought to include him in their conversation.

"So where do you live, Conan?" Amy asked.

Conan looked up hearing his name in what sounded like a question. He had been startled out of a day dream of exactly what he would be doing at that time if he hadn't been shrunk. "Uh...I uh...I live with Detective Richard Moore and Rachel."

"Really?!" They exclaimed.

"Do you get to see dead people? Corrupt dealings? People in secret identities?!" They all three exclaimed with excitement.

"Yeah, but it's nothing really..." Conan said.

'Nothing' though wasn't the answer they were expecting. They wanted to know everything. Conan started to describe the things but then, being kids, their attention started to divert. Amy was staring directly over his shoulder when she interrupted him midsentence and shouted, "Oh, guys! We forgot to tell him about the ducks!"

The faces of the tree kid's showed remembrance as they ran behind Conan to see their beloved ducks. Conan turned around, expecting to see white and yellow fuzzy looking things. But that wasn't what he saw. In fact he didn't see anything at all. Just air. Not an animal in sight, unless you count the numerous little heavens running around the play ground. But the three first graders stopped just about three yards from him, in front of nothing.

Amy scooped up some air and starting petting it. "See, Conan? This is my duck. His name is Peanut Brittle. He likes to make deserts. His name used to be Cream Cheese, on account of he loved cheesecake a whole lot, but then one day he told me that he doesn't like cream cheese anymore and wished to be called Peanut Brittle." She then happily squeezed the air in her arms and resumed petting it.

"This," Mitch said, pointing to the ground below his feet, "is my duck, Robot. It's easy to figure out why his name is Robot, too. Because Robot likes to do the robot dance, and he's actually pretty good at it." He smiled at the patch of ground and then the three who already knew about the ducks watched it intently and then burst out clapping to signify the end of the performance.

"I have a squirrel, Conan," George said. Then he hid his mouth behind his hand and said, "Actually he's a duck, too. He just wants to be a squirrel. That's why he's wearing a squirrel mask, but he doesn't know that his webbed feet and feathers give him away. Don't tell him that." George then leaned close to the ground and said, "You are a good squirrel, Squirrel. That's your third acorn this year!"

You have got to be kidding me. But they weren't. In fact, after they had paid a minute or two's worth of attention to their ducks, Amy exclaimed, "Oh, Conan! You've got a duck too! That one's name is Pogo! It's because of him being able to jump really high, like he's on a pogo stick. See!" Conan watched the three of their faces as they all rose at exactly the same time into the air, as if they were watching a bouncing ball on a TV screen. "Isn't he cool?!" Amy then asked.

"Uh, yeah," Conan said. "Really neato..."

A ringing went through the playground to signify the end of lunch time. As they all filed in, Conan was seriously thinking that something was really wrong with those three. So much that he needed to tell the teacher.

"Um, teacher," Conan said, as the rest of his class filed into the room for the rest of the day.

"Yes, Conan? Is your first day going fine?"

And there she goes again, with that freaky looking smile, like she couldn't do anything else. "Uh, yeah. I have a concern about a few of my classmates..."

"What? Has there been some kids bullying you already?" The teacher asked. O.k. at least the mad face shows me that she can do something else than smile.

"Uh, no," Conan said. "It's just that I want to know if the mental capacity is alright wit a few of them. They were holding up air at recess and talking about dancing ducks."

The teacher didn't seemed concerned though. In fact, she laughed. "Oh, I see that you've met the class pets. Yes aren't the ducks just darling?" She then pretended to pet some air on her desk. "I just love how great my Dicey is."

Blink, blink. Okay, now I can officially know that this whole school is insane. "Oh, because I was just thinking about, uh, how cool they are..." Blend in Jimmy. They'll never know the difference.

Conan then just took his seat and went through the rest of the day as distant as he could from his peers around him. He went to the Moore residence that night not wanting to tell Rachel about "the ducks" because he was afraid that Rachel would surprise him with a duck of her own.

Days passed after that and he started to fit in. It looked like he wouldn't be a while until he got back, so he tried to make the best of it by making peace with Amy, Mitch, and George. Then weeks went by until it was a month since he had first started going to school there. The ducks had been of course mentioned again but Conan always thought that this was an early sign of insanity. Seeing things that were not really there and them being the same as what others see them. So Conan tried hard to keep away from that topic, like insanity was a catchable disease.

Conan woke up that morning tired. He had a strange dream the night before and though he couldn't remember it, it seemed at the tip of his brain. Conan stretched underneath his covers and sat up in his bed, yawning. When his eyes went back into focus something on the floor caught his eye. There, on the floor of his room in the Moore apartment, was a small yellowish duck. It had brownish spots every where on his feathers, including one splotch over his left eye. And his head was bouncing slightly.

Where in the world did this come from? Conan got up and got himself ready for the day, the whole time his eyes never leaving the duck. When he went into the kitchen for breakfast, the duck followed him there, and when Conan sat down in his chair, the duck plopped down on its butt with a little quack.

"Um, Rachel?" Conan asked his friend who was busy making breakfast for the boy, herself, and her dad.

"Yes, Conan?"

"Why is there a duck in here?"

Rachel spun around from the stove to see what he was talking about. "Conan, there isn't a duck in here. Now stop bothering me with silly questions."

Conan sat there puzzled. That morning he was especially quiet as he readied himself and left for school. Rachel walked him there part of the way, but then George, Amy, and Mitch worked it out that they walked the rest of the way with him. When Rachel was clean out of sight and earshot Conan realized something and looked down. Sure enough he saw Robot dancing his way to school, Peanut Brittle sticking his head out of Amy's backpack, and Squirrel running around all of them, like he was searching for nuts. And there was his Pogo, already starting to hop his way instead of waddling.

"Amy, there are ducks here..." he said.

"Of course there are silly! They've been here this whole time!" Amy exasperatedly said.

Conan miserably looked down at Pogo. Oh, no. Not the ducks!

A/N: I know that there might be some incorrect things here. So what? Sue me or tell me! This story is based on some, uh, friends I actually do have.... I felt like writing something funny. All I could think of was my school day. At least I made no mention of tidy widies, the Mafia, or any song references (Yes I have talked about all of this today). Squirrel is in honor of my friend Lindsey who loves squirrels. And no ducks were hurt in the making of this story.