Beware: silly pointless rhyming by Mouri in the beginning. Blame me watching a Danny Phantom episode that was done all in rhyme -.-
--
Conan opened the door, tired from his trek across the district. His legs felt like led, weighing him down as he trudged inside, tossing his skateboard against the wall with little to no conscious thought. It was routine by now, and his shoes soon followed the skateboard, thrown carelessly into their spot beside Mouri's large loafers. A banging sound echoed from up ahead, accented by sounds of doors opening and closing and other miscellaneous noises. Conan ignored it the best he could, trudging along the hallway that led to his room. His best didn't last very long; it was hard to ignore when a tall, blue-suited man flew out of one of the rooms, a pile of clothes in hand, and nearly crashed straight into the short detective. Conan blinked, stopping just short of Mouri's destructive rampage. He couldn't help it as his head turned, following the man with his eyes as he stormed into the room, dropping the clothes into an open suitcase before taking off again and dashing into another room. Conan watched the cycle repeat a few more times, dodging every which way to prevent himself from being flattened before he finally decided that a) the detective wouldn't notice him if he didn't do something and b) he had no idea why Mouri was running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
"Occhan!" It took a few repeats of the word to gather Mouri's attention, and even then the man looked surprised to be addressed. Conan hadn't really spoken to him at all in the past while, so it probably seemed strange to the old man. At long length he shook his head before saying aloud, "No time Conan, shush, I need to finish and pack." Mouri said with a face, all screwed up in deep thought, "I need to be ready by the time she gets back."
"She? She who?" Conan perked up at once, trying to ask the question in his heart without being blunt. It wasn't possible, he'd know if it was. Treacherous hope bubbled up unbidden, but Conan forcefully squashed it, "Where are we going?"
"You are staying right here. So you don't run off and leave me in…" Mouri trailed off, tilting his head and screwing up his face even more. It was a signature sign of him thinking hard about something. It took him a minute, before he tentatively finished, almost asking, "…fear?"
Conan almost growled, he hadn't answered the first question! But then he stopped, and thought over Mouri's last words, the way the endings sounded the same—it was really quite absurd. "Are you talking in couplets?" He asked, eyebrow rising in question, his voice a flat and even deadpan.
Mouri gulped, caught in the act and laughed a little nervously, "Yes—no—maybe I am"
The detective continued on his way, taking the latest batch of stuff and trying to work it into a limited amount of space. Conan knew with one look that it wasn't going to fit comfortably in the suitcase, and even if the man tried to force it shut it was very likely that it would burst open. "Blame Nakamori, he got me into this jam."
Mouri straightened up a little, coughing into his fist as he cleared his throat, "He told me that I had one hour to rhyme. And if I did so successfully he'd make it worth my time."
Conan looked on, incredulous as Mouri began to rant—all in rhyme, of course. He couldn't believe the man would do something as stupid as that, even if there was a reward. The small detective pinched his nose in frustration; he'd have to wade through the entire rhyming mess if he wanted to get the answers. Generally the first line would be true, and the other sort of twisted truth. After all, Mouri was one who would say what he wanted first, and then try to think up something that would rhyme with that first line, instead of picking things that would rhyme together easily, "Okay, so from the top. Where are you going?"
"I've got a new case, to last a week from now," Mouri tried everything to close up that suitcase, from standing to sitting on it, until it finally snapped shut. It was bulging at the seams and seemed likely to burst. The latches eventually clasped, but they seemed shaky at first. "With the money I make I might be able to go to the bar—row?"
Conan rolled his eyes, not really putting much effort into trying to keep up his childish façade. His patience had already been frayed after his talk with Nakamori, and now this Mouri was destroying all the good that his solitary soccer dribbling had done for his nerves. "What about me? Am I staying alone?"
"Of course not, brat." Mouri said with a scowl, "I've arranged it so that you will be baby-sat"
"By who? In case you don't know, Ran's not here!" Conan half-growled, half-whined, keeping enough sense through his frustrations to not act too out of character, and act as if he was annoyed at being left behind. In truth, he was annoyed at needing a 'baby-sitter'. "You'd know that if you didn't spend your entire time drinking bee—" Conan cut himself off, feeling quite horrified. He'd only just caught himself from talking in rhyme! It had been unconcious, just a result of hearing it. Mouri didn't notice, thankfully, since he'd been distracted by the ringing of his cell phone. He'd pulled it out and flipped it open, foregoing the usual 'hello' so he wouldn't have to come up with some way to rhyme.
It was Nakamori on the other end—Conan knew since Mouri had accidentally hit the speaker phone button—and the Inspector just laughed at the silence, "You only have five more minutes, Mouri-san. Think you can keep it up?"
"Of course." Mouri boasted, puffing out his chest even though Conan was the only one to see, "I could rhyme all day without any remorse!"
"Just a little longer and you'll win the bet." Nakamori said with a gravely chuckle, but he didn't seem to lack any confidence in himself either. Conan wondered just what was at stake, except perhaps pride. Nakamori and Mouri seemed to always be competing whenever they were together. "by the way, did you get what I asked for?"
"Yeah, but why did you want an orange?" Mouri responded almost automatically, glancing at the round fruit sitting on the bed next to the suitcase. He then froze, spending a good two minutes trying to figure out a way to rhyme that statement, before he turned a purple-y red color and started yelling in the phone, "Damn it Nakamori!" His only response was that same low laughter, barely audible to Conan because of Mouri's insistence that he'd been tricked and it shouldn't count.
The child-looking detective couldn't help a small chuckle. Nothing rhymed with orange after all.
"Geez." Mouri muttered, snapping the phone shut and hanging up on the gloating Inspector, "Why does the great Mouri Kogorou-sama lower himself to taking childish bets anyway?" The detective had all but forgotten Conan's presence, and the boy figured it was just as well, he'd gotten most of the information he needed. 'She' must have been referring to whoever Mouri'd roped into watching him for the week, there's no way he could have been referring to Ran.
Just as he turned to leave, a knock came from the door. Mouri's head snapped up, precariously balancing one suitcase and a backpack on one arm as he fumbled to answer the door, "Finally!"
He managed to open the door, nearly tripping and tumbling—suitcase and all—right into the girl on the other side of the door.
The girl seemed slightly ruffled, perhaps even a little annoyed at first before she straightened up and bowed her head to Mouri and Conan, "My apologies for being late, Mouri-san, but I wasn't given much notice." She then turned to Conan, smiling down at the sullen child, "Hello Conan-kun, I hope we'll get along."
--
It wasn't long before the weekend rolled around, and Aoko still put off telling Kaito. Her magician friend was still under the impression that she was free on Saturday for their little rendezvous—she wouldn't torment herself by calling it anything else—and she was debating between calling him and canceling because she had to baby-sit her father's coworker's charge or not. She knew what he'd say if she did, he'd laugh and invite the boy along.
Maybe it would be better if Conan came, then maybe she couldn't fool herself into thinking it was a date. Over the past few months she'd slowly been noticing things, things about her friend that she didn't want to think about. She liked to cling to the 'childhood true love' cliché, in hopes that what she was seeing now was just a mask for his true feelings.
That was one of the problems with magicians; it was very difficult to tell what was a mask and what wasn't. While it may help them when trying to keep secrets, it was extremely frustrating to someone trying to read into their best friend's thoughts.
Aoko entertained the idea of canceling the meeting just to see how Kaito would react. Would he simply smile and wave it off like it was no big deal? Would he be disappointed? Would he be angry? But eventually decided that since Tropical Land was Kaito's way of making it up to her; she should at least make some attempt to make it, even if it did involve bringing along an independent nine year old.
The Inspector's daughter lowered the book she'd been attempting to read before her musings carried her away, reaching up with one hand to hold back her hair as a stray breeze decided to dance through the park, tossing the short brown strands into her face. Her eyes strayed to the empty field across the path, where a small boy was currently playing soccer by himself. Conan showed an amazing display of skill and power for such a young kid, keeping the ball under a rigid control as he moved it all around the field. Aoko had noticed other peculiarities about the boy during her week time with him, and the one thing that stood out the most was that he always seemed to be waiting for something, or maybe someone.
Her father had told her about the Mouri girl's disappearance, and judging from some of the pictures she'd seen stashed around the agency Conan had been really close to her. She was almost willing to bet he was waiting for her to come back, and no one probably had the heart to tell him that by this time she wasn't likely to come back at all. Aoko wasn't a pessimist, but she was a realist. Half a year without contact of any kind, Ran had become a face on the milk carton, one that was kept turned away from the young one's eyes.
Aoko shook her head; it wasn't really her business to be thinking about such things. It didn't matter that Conan's desperation (which it wasn't really, but it was the only word that seemed to fit) appealed to what little maternal instincts she had, she was just his sitter for the week, and then she probably wouldn't see him again.
But that didn't mean she wouldn't make what was left of the week as fun as she could to ease his mind. Her decision made she dog-eared the book, placing it down on the bench beside her, "Conan-kun!"
The boy looked over, kicking the ball into the air before catching it easily in his hands, "Ne?" he moved when she motioned him over, tucking the black and white ball beneath his arm, "What is it?"
"Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?"
"Saturday?" at her confirming nod he thought it over, before shaking his head lightly, "No."
"Well…would you mind going to Tropical Land with a friend and I?" she understood his startled expression; the question did come out of nowhere, after all. "If you don't want to go, that's fine too. You don't have to decide now."
"Ah…" Conan looked down at the ground, his expression unreadable behind his glasses as he tossed the ball into the air again, letting it contact with his knee and go flying again. He dribbled it without paying attention to it for a few minutes, before giving Aoko an uneasy half-smile, "I'll go…"
--
She had already planned it. Conan could easily deduce that fact as soon as Aoko brought up the idea. He remembered, remembered when she first arrived. She'd stared out the window once her father and Mouri had driven away, muttering about plans and inconsiderate fathers. While he would rather not be in that very amusement park, he knew that she would not go if he didn't. It was easy to tell—Aoko was dedicated to her tasks, and wouldn't even think of shirking it to go on a 'date' with a friend. After all, she insisted on accompanying him to the park today, and every other time he'd left the agency.
At first it had been annoying, but eventually he learned to tolerate it—it wasn't like he had anywhere important to go. Takagi had told him that he wouldn't have any updates on the investigation until Monday at the earliest, so Conan spent most of his time either in his room at the Agency or at the park. Deep down, it reminded him of Ran—a silent watcher, just along to accompany and not to disturb. It was a feeling that both relieved and agitated him. Relieved since it was something long missed. Agitated because it made him miss Ran more.
Conan curled into a ball, tucking his knees close to his chest as he sat on the couch. He could hear Aoko's voice coming from the adjacent room. She was on the phone with her friend, discussing the plans for tomorrow. He could hear it in her voice, tell by the way she moved whenever she passed within the four edges of the door frame—she liked this friend. He wondered, as he always did whenever he saw a similar sight—a conversation over the phone or in person of a couple his age—if they knew just how lucky they were to speak like that, to be able to see each other.
He bit his lip to stifle the curse he felt welling up, uncurling and flopping over on his side, face down into the couch. It was face down that Aoko found him, when the teenager got off her cell phone and returned to the room.
--
Vermouth watched the entire scene, smiling faintly as she took down a few notes. Good, it didn't seem like the girl's presence was messing with her experiment very much. She'd been a little concerned over the past few days, when the subject actually started to respond to the sitter's actions, but it seemed that just reminding him of the Angel did wonders to set him back on his downward track.
"Yes…" she mused aloud in English, "It seems I won't have to do anything with the girl."
Nothing permanent of course, the Nakamori girl (name provided by one of her countless contacts in the Beika and Ekota districts) looked too much like the Angel to allow a prolonged or even permanent disappearance sit well with her, especially if it involved unfortunate accidents. But a well placed call would have the detective and the inspector scurrying home, and perhaps a small accidental fire at the Nakamori residence just for good measure. With the bumbling fool of a 'meitantei' back at home, Conan would return to his rightful path, and the Cherub would be out of the way—all without needing to physically harm anyone involved. Sure there was a chance of property damage from the required fire, but it didn't matter so long as the girl and her father had all their limbs intact, no?
"Just a little longer my bullet, then I'll return your power to you." she purred, speaking to the screen and at the image of her subject, face buried into the sofa, "Only four months 'till the end of term, and then I will give the Angel back."
She looked at a calendar tacked to the wall, tilting her head a little so wavy blonde hair tumbled out of it's former position, "Until the follow up of course…"
--
"Ah! There he is!" Aoko smiled and waved her hand high in to the air, signaling to the teenager she could barely see through the milling people, and with her other hand she kept a tight grip on Conan's hand. She knew he wasn't likely to wander off, but didn't want to risk losing him in such a large amusement park. She'd never hear the end of it from Kaito if she did.
"Aoko!" Kaito pushed through the crowd, stopping a little short, almost surprised when he noticed the company she was with. He recovered in a very Kaito-like manner, not missing a beat as he flashed his trademark smile at the young boy, "Hello again Edogawa-kun."
The only girl in the group tilted her head, looking, and noticing the recognition in both her companion's faces, "Do you two know each other?"
"Un," Conan nodded, "We've met."
"So cold, Edogawa-kun!" Kaito shook his head in dismay, voice conveying an obviously fake, hurt undertone, "Ice cream constitutes as a little more than 'met'!"
Aoko laughed, especially when she saw Conan's eye roll in response. Kaito—perhaps a little annoyed that he hadn't gotten any sort of worthwhile reaction out of the child—pouted, his lower lip trembling as he squatted down so he was at Conan's eye level, "You're mean Conan. You promised you would cheer up after last time."
The boy just stared, giving the teenager a patented 'are-you-an-idiot?' stare, but this one accompanied by a raised eyebrow to turn it into an Edogawa original 'why-are-you-acting-like-a-five-year-old?' look. Kaito puffed out his cheeks at the lack of response, before looking up at Aoko, "I've got a lot of work to do, don't I?"
She only nodded.
--
"Genta-kun! Mitsuhiko-kun! Wait up!" Ayumi called after her friends, laughter mixed in among the words. The two boys had run ahead a little of her, having seen something that caught their attention at one of the game booths just up ahead. Well, in truth it was Genta who ran first, followed by Mitsuhiko—who despite lacking Genta's height, easily kept pace with the chubby boy.
"Wait!" She yelled again, drawing a few amused looks from the immediately surrounding people, reminiscing of days past when it was them chasing after their friends. The cheerful, one track mind of Yoshida Ayumi didn't take any notice, finally catching up to her companions when Genta came to a stop in front of a wooden game booth. He raised one thick arm, pointing up at the prize rack from which dangled many brightly colored, stuffed objects, "Look! It's an eel!" The dark-skinned kid looked thoughtfully up at the toy, "Do you think it comes with rice?"
"Genta!" Mitsuhiko scolded lightly, taking a deep breath and straightening his body to his full height in an attempt to look authoritative to his larger friend, "Do you ever think of anything but food?"
"Yes…but I'm hungry right now."
Ayumi giggled, peering up at the long, skinny green plushie, "I think it's cute."
"A-h!" the lanky boy stopped his gentle reprimand at the girl's admission, the slightest bit of a blue staining his face as he started digging through his pockets for some loose change, "I'll win it for you, Ayumi-chan!"
"No, I will!" Genta exclaimed, the heavy set, dark skinned boy nearly shoving the thinner Mitsuhiko aside when he started to head to the counter. He pulled out the required fee and presented it to the booth worker. The man had been watching the little squabble with amused indifference, but with the boy offering the money he shook his head, gesturing a large hand to a sign on the wooden pole of the booth.
"Eeh? 16 or older?" Genta looked around quickly before standing up on his tiptoes, leaning against the wooden counter, "Ne, I look 16 right? No one will be able to tell the difference!"
The worker chuckled at the boy's conspiring whisper, "No can do, kid. They upped the age limit when a 10 year old nearly took out the attendant's eye."
Mitsuhiko—he was half glad that Genta couldn't win Ayumi the stuffed animal, but also disappointed that he couldn't give it a try himself—pointed up at the brightly colored plushies, "But why would a 16 year old want one of those?"
"Just to prove they won, or to give to a lady friend like ya'll planned to." The worker sighed and shrugged helplessly, as though he could not claim to understand the way teenagers thought nowadays, he only did his job, "look, you guys should probably find another game to play, or get your parents to play for you."
The threesome exchanged looks, all imagining the outcome should they hunt down Agasa to play for them. The professor had been the one to bring them, leaving Haibara at home, and they'd lost him when the boys went running upon entering the game area. It wouldn't take too long to find him but the mental image resulting from Agasa trying to play the game sent Ayumi into a fit of giggles, her peals of laughter soon queuing her entourage into her mirth. The two boys soon joined her once they picked up on the wavelength, the laughter causing the worker to scratch his head in slight confusion—kids these days were really weird.
After Ayumi's laughter died down Mitsuhiko placed his hand on her arm, "Come on Ayumi-chan, let's go find another game."
"Nah, don't leave. I'll win it for ya, missy." All three children turned around, hope filling Ayumi's face as she nearly pounced on the teenager who'd spoken up, "Really?"
"Of course," the tall, brown-haired high-schooler winked down at her, "I can't let down such a cute girl."
He sauntered up to the counter, paying the fee and picking up the pellet gun that the worker brought out to him, "Hey, old man, what do I have to do for the Mr. Long and Scaly up there?"
The man coughed at being called old, he didn't look more than thirty at the most, "It's a standard prize, just one win will do it."
"Kay!" the children and the worker waited for the as of yet unnamed teen to begin playing, bit he just stood there, holding and eyeing the pullet gun in his hands curiously, "So…what exactly do I have to do to win?"
"You volunteered without knowing the game?" At the utterly unashamed "Bingo!" Mitsuhiko shook his head incredulously, wondering about the childishness of someone at least eight years older than himself, "It's easy, just shoot inside the red circle on the target three times. Two shots out of three get you a free try."
"Oh, is that all?" he brought the gun up, holding it easily and comfortably in the proper grip, gaining an oddly serious expression on the perpetually smiling face. He took a moment to line up the sights, sucking in a small breath, letting it loose as the trigger depressed.
After the initial discharge it was quiet save for the permanent background noise of other patrons, but despite the muted talking of the surrounding people, the telltale sound of paper tearing was audible as the first shot tore straight through the immediate center of the circular target.
"Cool!" Genta was the first of the children to recover and close his gaping mouth. None of them really expected the teenager to be any good—after all he did just volunteer without paying any attention to the game, "You have REAALLLY good aim!"
"Nah, I'm sure it was just beginner's luck." The brown-haired teenager adopted a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. The worker watched the display with waning amusement before he opened his mouth to ask the young man to go again—only to close it with resigned annoyance when he was cut off by yet another voice, this one in an authoritative but feminine tone "Don't believe a word this idiot says."
Coming from the same general direction the first teen had was an average sized girl with shoulder-length brown-black hair, her arms crossed and a faint set of amused contentment to her features, "I was wondering where you'd run off too, Kaito. Showing off again?"
'Kaito' straightened up indignantly, resting the pellet gun against his shoulder with the nozzle pointing into the sky, "I'll have you know I was trying to win this cute little girl a prize. Is there something wrong with that, Aoko?" he paused and looked around, searching for something, "Where'd the kid sneak off to?"
"He said he wanted to get something to eat."
With a soft 'Ah' of understanding he turned back to the target, surprising everyone by firing his last two consecutive shots without warning or setting up like he had before. It was obvious that he'd only been doing it for show, since the single smooth motion sent the shells whizzing straight through the previous shot-hole in the paper, widening it slightly due to perhaps a millimeter difference. He then put the gun down on the counter, looking expectantly at the man working the game, "So…can I get my prize now?"
The man nodded dumbly, not used to such skill displayed at an amusement park game. He reached behind the counter, pulling out a copy of the long green plushie that had been the cause of it all. Kaito took it from him, giving him a thankful smile before kneeling down, handing the stuffed toy to the Ayumi, "Here ya go, one stuffed eel, as promised."
The little girl took the toy reverently, looking up at the teenager with shining eyes, "Thank you Kai-nii!"
Kaito smiled and placed his hand on her head, leaning close and whispering in her ear, "You'd better get going, your little friends are getting pretty jealous over there."
Ayumi flushed, before she ducked her head and ran back to where Mitsuhiko and Genta waited. Kaito had been correct, they were looking at the older teen with a fierce protectiveness that Ayumi had seen many a times, whether it be directed towards themselves, Conan, or even anyone else who dared to look her way.
"Come on! We need to find the professor!" Ayumi grabbed Mitsuhiko by the hand, feeling a stab of guilt as she pulled the boy along—she couldn't drag Genta even if she wanted too. Since he was closest to her size, Mitsuhiko had been dubbed the dragging buddy after Conan quit hanging around them. Thoughts of Conan made her pause, the smile fading from her face a little to the confusion of her companions. Her hand let go of Mitsuhiko's, moving to her pocket to touch the cool metal of her Shounen Tantei badge, stopping short when she couldn't find it, "No!"
"Ayumi-chan?" Genta asked, concerned when the bubbly girl suddenly stopped walking, an uncharacteristic frown on her face. Ayumi seemed to snap out of her funk at Genta's words, flashing him a smile and letting go of Mitsuhiko's hand, "I forgot something, can you two go find the professor?"
They looked about ready to refuse, but in the end complied with her wishes. The two boys left on their own, sneaking glances back in Ayumi's direction until they were out of eyesight. Ayumi spun around, heading back towards the game booths with the eel clutched to her chest. She couldn't lose that badge, it was one of the few things Conan had given her that she still had.
--
"You can come out now, Edogawa-kun."
--
A/N: Woo! Nearly twice as long of a chappie xD Normally I woulda ended it at 2k words-ish and used the other half for next time, but I figure I need to make up for it being late. I'm so glad my teacher lets me work on this in class (when I'm done with my work, of course) or I wouldn't be anywhere near done --;
I'm curious, how many people got this far into the story? Hits aren't very reliable, since they increment every page view, so some may be rereads. Reviews aren't either, since I know the majority of people don't review.
So sue me, I'm curious .-. I also have a question for y'all readers. Are the chapters declining in quality? I'm a bit worried since a lot of the time I rush a bit to meet the self-imposed deadline of one chappie of a story a week (Masq, FDT, then Luck—so one chappie for any one story every 3 weeks). Or rush to get it done before it gets to be an entire week late (like this one). Can I get some feedback on that? If it turns out they are declining, I can make sure I take more time between writing and posting… I just wanna make sure I'm not ruining a story I like because of my procrastinating habits x.x