.02 - beginning
With an impassive face, Haibara proceeded to slosh generous amounts of rubbing alcohol onto the gaping wound that disfigured her upper left arm.
"Doesn't that hurt?" Edogawa's voice piped out from the sofa.
"It's like my arm was on fire and I decided to feed the flames a tank of oxygen. So I have to say, no, this doesn't hurt. I'd actually characterise the sensation as more of a mild discomfort than a searing pain," Ai snapped in annoyance, eyes never leaving her work. But through the haze of pain, she sensed that she had overlooked something of quite substantial importance. Her head whipped around. "Kudo?"
"No," the boy answered. "Kudo Shinichi is dead. My name is Edogawa Conan."
Their friendship had never extended beyond a cool tolerance of the other's presence, and his delivery was met by silence. "Uh…so what happened to you?" he asked.
"You first," the strawberry blonde insisted, still staring at the boy before her as if he had returned from the dead. It had been five years, after all.
"Well, one day I just got sick of it all. The lies, the masquerade, the suffocation of trying to force my past life into this life yet keep them separate, of trying to make Edogawa Conan into Kudo Shinichi Take Two. I couldn't juggle my two identities anymore. What was there left for Kudo Shinichi? He'd been gone for two years, and even if there had been some miraculous means of returning to his former body, an organisation of assassins was waiting for him to surface. He was making his love interest cry more than he made her smile, yet still he selfishly clung to his dreams of what if. It was time Kudo Shinichi faded away. I just needed some time to finalise, implement, and come to terms with the decision," he shrugged. "Your arm?"
"Oh, this. I was on my way home from school when some lunatic with a knife tried to attack me," Ai replied disinterestedly. "Don't worry, I kicked him. He'll be sitting at home, nursing his newfound infertility," she added quickly as Edogawa jumped up, concern in his eyes.
Yet to be pacified, Conan asked, "Are you sure it wasn't…?" he trailed off, a questioning look mingling with his earlier concern.
Haibara looked up, a flat stare on her face. "Well… actually, their standards have taken quite a dip, and yes, their newest field agents are idiots who can't handle unarmed schoolgirls."
Conan's eyes, formerly wide with concern, narrowed into slits. "Unarmed schoolgirl? My bad; I took you to be a mass murdering toxicologist."
"It's quite all right," Haibara replied coldly, "I didn't expect you to be able to differentiate."
Edogawa scowled and made a minute movement toward the soccer ball lying on the floor; Haibara reversed her grip on the bottle of rubbing alcohol.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.