Fandom: Detective Conan
Title: Red and White
Author: Eeveebeth Fejvu
Theme: #34 – It's hard not to love you
Pairing/Characters: Edogawa Conan and Haibara Ai (et al)
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. I asked Haibara to make me a pill that would somehow turn me into the creator of the shrunken detective, but my order is in line behind the antidote to Apoptoxin-4869. So, for now, I write fan fiction.
Dedication: This one's for Thu. Sorry it's so late! I hope you still like it!
Summary: The contents of the photo on top caught his attention.
Author's Note: Something a bit… different, to celebrate the awesome release of Detective Conan File 700. This theme takes place during the "Clash of Red and Black" arc (files 595-609; episodes 491-504). Spoilers for this arc, and for the "Red Robbery" arc (files 677-679).
Panting in exertion and exhilaration, Conan struggled to keep up with Akai's long, brisk strides.
He cursed his short, child's legs, not for the first time. Fortunately, though, he had just caught sight of their target a little ways ahead – a pristine night-blue Chevy, parallel parked across the street in front of a convenience store. A small relief; he wouldn't have to sprint at this hurried pace for much longer, then.
Glancing over and up, Conan saw that his current partner had assumed an expression of relaxed disinterest – his most common one, it seemed. It effortlessly covered up any anxiety or excitement that the FBI agent might be feeling, now that action was finally being taken and all carefully thought-out plans were underway. The man's hands were shoved almost carelessly into the pockets of his black jacket, and his pace was inconspicuous for all of its speed and intent. His inherent coolness clashed strongly with the unbound, apprehensive energy of the bespectacled boy at his side.
Conan's short sigh was instantly lost among his panting as he stumbled to a halt, almost crashing into the man's legs, as Akai stopped to wait for the heavy traffic in front of them to dissipate. The Chevrolet C-1500 was directly across the street now. Conan used the pause to adjust his red bowtie with one hand, loosening it a bit to get a bigger breath of air. Though Akai stood as tall and motionless as a post, Conan couldn't help but shift his weight back and forth, sneakers scuffing against the concrete sidewalk. His shins were throbbing slightly under all the strain.
By Conan's estimation, Akai must have parked his truck at least a kilometer away from the hospital, clearly hoping to shake off the eyes of the Black Organization until the moment when they – Akai, rather – actually needed to attract their attention.
Suddenly, Akai stepped off the sidewalk into the road, cleared for a moment, though more cars were already barreling in their direction. Conan blinked and quickly hurried to catch up, only slightly put off by the agent's jaywalking. With the instinct of one used to being overlooked, he hastened to Akai's side, the taller of them in-between the boy and the oncoming traffic.
This proved to be a fortunate choice, for as they crossed into the final lane before reaching the sidewalk, a speeding van slammed on its breaks and came to an abrupt, screeching halt not two feet away from the agent. Conan flinched, faltering, but Akai never even glanced in the van's direction until the van's furious driver pressed down hard upon his horn and started yelling profanities out his open window. Conan didn't catch the face that Akai turned to the man, but it must have held a truly intimidating expression, for the driver immediately released his horn, clamped his mouth shut, and stared at them with wide, frightened eyes.
The agent continued indifferently to the Chevy, not sparing the van another glance, and Conan tripped his way around to the passenger side, on the right in this foreign-made vehicle. Hearing the lock release, Conan reached up for the handle, pulled open the heavy door, and scrambled into the high seat of the truck, closing the door behind him with a grunt. He fumbled for the seatbelt and finally managed to pull it across his chest, snapping it into place. In the driver's seat, Akai did the same, briefly adjusting the side mirror with a practiced hand before sliding the truck's key into the ignition switch.
The Chevy's engine roared to life, the whole truck vibrating and quivering in anticipation, like a hunting dog about to be released. Akai finally spared the small detective a brief, wicked grin. Conan found himself returning it, though his childish face made the expression more disturbing.
The Chevy suddenly bolted forward as Akai pressed on the gas and steered the truck out of its parking spot and onto the street. Conan grasped at the seat underneath him; this vehicle had much more power in it than the vehicles he was used to. After a moment, however, as stores and trees and pedestrians flashed past the side window, he adjusted to the car's energy and speed. He relaxed into the passenger seat in silence, having nothing more to do at the moment but wait and watch for black Porsches in the rearview mirror.
Though he was driving and also keeping an eye out for any Organization members, Akai seemed to relax into his seat as well. A minute, then two, of silence grew between them, though Conan still felt the man's presence strongly.
He was glad for Akai's company, and for the connection between the FBI agent and himself. Much of this connection had been forged over the present crisis and during a long nighttime talk on the hospital roof, but it was already a strong, almost comfortable one. And in this vehicle, Conan's lack of stature and apparent age didn't seem to matter as much as it had before. The dissonance between them and their respective lifestyles seemed to lessen when it came to their mutual sharp intellect, their deductive talents, their abilities to strategize and anticipate, and their deep fixation on taking down the Black Organization.
Conan was running through his and Akai's elaborate plans once more in his mind, speculating whether or not they might have tangled themselves up in too much reverse psychology this time, when the agent shifted in his seat. The motion drew Conan's attention to the man's face, where he saw a narrow, olive-green eye peering at him from behind wavy strands of loose black hair. Though still clearly watching the road ahead, Akai seemed to be just as focused on the boy in the passenger seat. Conan blinked. He was used to staring at others intently in investigation, not the other way around.
Akai suddenly motioned in Conan's direction with his head, and said, "Check the glove box… See that they didn't find my truck… and leave us any more 'presents.'" Conan nodded, leaned forward, and cautiously opened the compartment in front of him. A small bulb on the inside gave him just enough light to see that the glove box was stuffed with various crumpled documents, a large handful of photographs, a wrinkled packet of cigarettes, and a Glock 26 (most likely loaded, he thought). Conan brushed a hand over the contents, shuffling them around, but no small, ticking box – a bomb, like those in the hospital gift baskets and Black's flowerpot – surfaced. The Organization had not found Akai Shuichi's Chevy, or, at least, had not tampered with it.
Conan, suddenly remembering his own tampering with Gin's Porsche that long-ago winter's day, was about to restart his search – now on the lookout for tracking devices and microphones – when a shallow pothole in the road caused the truck to shake and the whole pile of photographs to tumble out of the glove box into Conan's lap. Surprised, he made a wild grab for them, and managed to catch most of them, though a few escaped to the floor of the cab.
"Sorry about that," Akai murmured. While the truck came to a halt at a red light next to Haido Park, he reached over with one hand to help Conan stuff them back into the glove box. When the light changed again, he returned his attention to the steering wheel.
Conan leaned over to check the floor of the cab beneath his feet, and strained with one arm to reach the few photos he had not caught. He had to maneuver himself into an awkward position to do this, though, for he was trying to avoid taking off his seat belt, just in case Akai had take any sudden action. It would be just too embarrassing to go flying across the cab, as small and relatively light as he was at the moment. After a short struggle, Conan was able to grasp several between the tips of two fingers. He added them to the small pile still in his lap, and was about to reach down for the last one, when the contents of the photo on top caught his attention.
He had already noticed that the pictures were from FBI surveillance; all were fairly recent and many were taken quite obviously in secret, with the photographed people oblivious to the camera, often caught in mid-speech, and with bushes and window blinds occasionally obscuring the subjects. Many of the people in the photographs were unknown to Conan, though he had noticed quite a few of Mizunashi Rena (both awake and in a coma), several with Ran, Sonoko, and Eisuke (apparently on their way home from school), and even a two or three of himself, accompanied by Mouri and Ran or the police.
The photo on the top of his pile was different. Closing the glove box momentarily, Conan held the photo closer to his eyes, turning it in his hands. It was much older than the rest, showing signs of a slight yellowing on the back and with one corner bent into a crease; it had to be at least five or six years old, Conan guessed. Even stranger, it was not a surveillance photo at all, but a posed photograph of several smiling people dressed quite formally, a lively ballroom their backdrop. It must have been some sort of group function, Conan realized in surprise, as he recognized several of them as FBI agents he had met at the hospital. And on the far right, almost out of the picture, stood a stunning couple, the man's arm casually draped around the woman's waist as she leaned happily into his shoulder.
The man could be no one other than a younger Akai Shuichi. The narrow olive eyes were brighter without the dark bags under them, and the hair was long enough to disappear behind his suit jacket, and he looked strange without the dark tuque, but it was still Akai Shuichi. And the woman, who was wearing a rather revealing red dress… Conan blinked twice.
"Yes… that's Agent Starling… Jodie. And me." Conan looked up to see an obscure expression on Akai's face. He seemed a little amused, a little sad, before his face once again relaxed into disinterest… Perhaps it was an expression of nostalgia, Conan considered.
A million questions surfaced in his mind: about the event in the picture, about the date it was taken, about the odd physical closeness of Akai and Jodie-sensei… but a glance at the truck's side mirror made him quickly realize that, if ever there was a time, now was not the time to ask.
Conan placed the photo back onto the pile in his lap and leaned toward the mirror. He frowned at the familiar woman on the violet motorcycle. She had seemingly come from nowhere to ride close behind the night-blue Chevrolet.
Platinum blonde long hair… Through her helmet's visor, Conan could dimly see the woman's intense, narrow gaze. It's Vermouth.
"Hmm… We meet again." Conan glanced over to see a smile on the FBI agent's face. He had obviously seen Vermouth from the rearview mirror and was happy that things were going as planned. Before Conan could say a word, Akai had grabbed the Chevy's gear stick, shifted it into the next gear, and had the gas pedal pressed all of the way to the floor.
With a screech, the Chevy shot forward and Akai swung the steering wheel, swerving around a car into the next lane, passing another car, speeding back into the first lane. It was a challenge to Vermouth, Conan knew, to follow blindly or turn away at a possible trap. As Akai slipped the truck in between two cars on the highway, Conan felt the photos slipping out of his lap. He grabbed them quickly, and shuffled them into a neat stack. The party photo with the younger Akai and Jodie-sensei was on top.
Conan carefully opened the glove box, placed the stack of photos inside, and closed it with a click. It was time to get his head back in this deadly, high-stakes game. Akai was obviously used to focusing on the task at hand, and Conan saw that it was smarter to think like an FBI agent right now rather than an inquisitive detective.
…Except, it seemed, Akai could focus on manipulating the actions of a criminal syndicate and talk about a completely different matter at the same time.
"I expected you to ask more questions, tantei-san," Akai said, still smiling and glancing at his side mirror, in which Vermouth and her motorcycle were rapidly shrinking into the distance. He released his intense pressure on the gas pedal, if only a little. "I would have if I were you."
"Is this really the time?" Conan wondered aloud. Akai gave a small, barking laugh.
"Don't let such opportunities slip away when you are presented with them," he advised seriously, "because you never know when it might be… your last chance."
Sobered, Conan contemplated what he might ask, if anything. It rather seemed as if Akai wanted to talk about the strange photograph, but was allowing the detective to make the first move. Finally, Conan settled for "…You and Jodie-sensei seemed… rather close. …Was the photo taken before you went undercover… in the Organization?"
"...Yes… and yes." Akai steered into the next lane. "It was less than a week after that party that the decision to send me undercover was finalized. Less than a week after that, and I was already 'wearing black,' you could say…
"She didn't take it very well," he finally continued, "especially at first. …She wanted to at least have a way to contact me, but it would have been much too dangerous–"
"Wait, who? …Jodie-sensei?" A strange possibility – at least one that had never occurred to him before – began to take root in Conan's mind. "Were…" If my deduction is wrong, it's going to be so embarrassing, he thought. "Were… you and Jodie-sensei…?"
"Lovers?" Akai finished for him, casual and neutral as ever.
Conan felt dry exasperation fall over his features. I was going to say "boyfriend and girlfriend…"
"…We were." The Chevy grumbled to a temporary halt at a red light, then shot forward ahead of the cars in the other lanes as the green light appeared. With a start, Conan tried to suppress several disconcerting mental images. Akai went on, regardless of his disturbed expression. "We were much younger then… and right now, she and I are… friends. Good friends, and partners in the Bureau.
"But… I still love her very much. …Is that all you were going to ask?"
Conan felt himself gape open-mouthed at the FBI agent in the driver's seat. As strange as it was to think of Akai Shuichi and Jodie-sensei… together… it was just as absurd to think of this rough, intimidating, cigarette-smoking sniper as someone with feelings as tender as that of romantic love…
Except…
"What about Miyano Akemi?!"
Even Conan was surprised at the vehemence in his exclamation. Akai looked away from the road for a moment, eyebrows raised, curious. "Oh? …James and Jodie told you, did they?"
Conan opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He nodded instead.
Akai made a sort of humming noise, as if considering Conan's response, though his attention had already turned back to his driving.
There was a long pause, the silence only filled by the growling of the Chevy's powerful engine. Conan adjusted his glasses, fidgeting. From the other FBI agents' comments, he had found himself convinced that Akai Shuichi had truly cared for – had even loved – Miyano Akemi, despite using his relationship with her to approach the Organization. And something about that idea had made Conan feel even closer to the mysterious agent.
He had known Akemi, after all – though under a different name and for only a short while before she had died in his arms – and something about the young woman's face, her smile, her concern for others… She had reminded him of Ran.
And if Akai had feelings for Akemi the way that he had feelings for Ran, then… they were similar in more ways than their intelligence and drive.
"Would you understand," Akai said slowly, and Conan immediately looked back up at the agent's profiled face, "if I said that I loved… love… Miyano Akemi, as well?"
Conan frowned. "…Not quite." How is that supposed to work? You just said you loved Jodie-sensei…
Akai sighed. "…I have been… blessed? Cursed?" He smirked wryly. "…Well, in any case, I have the sort of… inconvenient personality… that makes it hard for me not to love Akemi and Jodie at the same time." Conan's eyes widened, uncertain. "To love two women the same way, for different reasons, but with just as much… intensity… I assure you, it is very inconvenient. …I see that you don't think such a thing is possible, considering your obvious devotion to… Mouri-tantei's daughter."
Conan blinked. True, Akai had seen him with Ran before, even holding her hand, but still…
"Perhaps, though, if you consider yourself a little further, you might understand better."
With a tilt of his head, Akai motioned towards the passenger side floorboard, eyes never leaving the road. Conan glanced down. There was the one photograph he had failed to pick up, lying face-down beneath his dangling feet. Struggling against his confining seatbelt, he managed to twist his small body around just enough to grasp the very edge of the photo. He sat back up, leaning back against the seat cushion, and turned the photo over.
…So it was the FBI who had been following us back then! I knew it wasn't any of mom's fans…
He had recognized the event almost instantly. It was from the time when his mother – that crazy old lady – had dragged him, along with the Shonen Tantei, to see the test screening of Kamen Yaiba 2. Not only was the film studio building in the background, but there was Kudo Yukiko, Genta, Mitsuhiko, and himself headed for the entrance. Ayumi was unknowingly turned towards the camera, calling out to the girl in the foreground, who was looking over her shoulder suspiciously, knowing she was being watched but unable to pinpoint the threat.
Haibara.
Great detective that he was, it took Conan a moment to realize just what Akai was implying. Dismay automatically welled up in his mind, rejecting the idea that he could ever think of… feel that way… about the sarcastic, cynical scientist. It was ridiculous, it was silly… how could Akai Shuichi know or even guess anything about his relationship with Haibara? Sure, the FBI agent had known her older self – Miyano Shiho – but… Conan's relationship with her wasn't at all like the one he had with Ran…
But even as those thoughts occurred, a warm sensation flooded his cheeks just at the sight of her face in the photograph. "To love two women the same way, for different reasons, but with just as much intensity…" The warmth seemed to flood into his chest as well. While his mind might only be opened to strange ideas when it came to solving mysteries, perhaps his heart was less constricted…
Akai Shuichi had always seemed to know things that he had no reason to know.
The sound of a cell phone ringing filled the Chevy's cab. It wasn't one of his, Conan knew, so it had to belong to the FBI agent. Suddenly more alert, Akai steered the truck off to the side of the road, where he parked it and slipped a slick silver cell phone out of his jacket.
He flicked it open, listening but not speaking.
"Thanks," he said after a moment, "A job well done." Snapping the phone shut with one hand, he looked down at Conan, smirking triumphantly. It seemed that all of their elaborate plans had been executed successfully. And yet, the FBI agent's olive eyes were too bright for that to be his only achievement.
Clutching the photograph of Haibara in his small, child's hands, Conan looked up at the agent with a meaningful smirk.
Perhaps he and Akai were more alike than he had thought.