Detective Conan Fanfiction

Chapter 37, Part 38

"Eyes"

A/N: If any of you follow my social media accounts, you'll know how much pressure I've received about this fic. I would like to thank those who had been so understanding whenever I go on hiatuses and supporting this fiction. It's not as well as I thought it turned out, but still, thank you.

"Ai-chan! Ai-chan! It's terrible! I've heard that Genta has been murdered! Please call back, Mitsuhiko and I are very worried and confused-"

That was an invoice mail from Ayumi.

Ai sighed. She could not give them a call right now, fearing that they would get endangered. The armed forces had promised that they will keep an eye on people like Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, Kogoro and other civilians that might have had in contact with her or Conan. They had lied to the people they cared about, keeping their identities in secrecy. Now that it was budding open, it must be difficult for them.

Her eyebags felt droopy. She had lacked sleep for the past few days, purely concentrated on helping to locate him. He must be somewhere, somewhere deep in a hideout. Their last conversation was not pleasant and it was bitter to think that that would be his last memory of her.

He had sacrificed for me.

She bit her lip in order not to express that ache. Of course, he did care. Perhaps not the way she wanted him to care, but to an extent, he did. Why did she stubbornly held onto the excuse that she was the one who ruined his life?

Because even if it was a fucking shit experience for me, at least I got to meet you, damn it!

That sentence replayed repeatedly. Was Conan really content with meeting and spending his days with her? To be like shrunken teens? Given her past, he deserved better. Someone who wasn't as jaded as her, someone who wasn't tainted, someone who lived a normal life. She was certain until her last talk with Ran.

A hand touched her at the top of her head, like a father to a child.

"Stop frowning. I had found where they are. They are in the island at the East of Japan. It's a small island that has a tourism business, but no one really knows what is beyond the dense forest in the background. The details of how the Black Organisation had that part of that and kept it in discrete...isn't important now. Our suspicion is that they have ties with the elites or the government body. We're gonna get the boy and Jodie back," Akai said with a cigarette in between his teeth.

Ai slightly jumped. This was the man that had claimed to love her older sister but failed in protecting her.

"The day when Jodie was taken, she told me your relation with us. That Akemi was my half-sister. Also, that my mother and your mother are sisters," she replied unemotionally. She never knew him or his siblings, so it was odd to call them her family. It was very strange, that she still had cousins and an aunt that were alive. Yet there was a glimmer of hope that beamed within her - she still had others, which left her rather confused but safe.

He gave a nod and answered, "all the more for us to retrieve them."

"I just hope that we are not too late," he said darkly. The man was hard to read, but Ai felt fear in him.

She did not know the details, but from how Jodie behaved around Akai, there was definitely something complicated between them. Sadly, Ai also knew that one of them loved the other more. Surely, she would have wanted Akemi to be happy with the guy, but knowing her sister, she would have wanted Akai to find his own happiness instead of mourning forever. Jodie had waited for him long enough and the woman did not deserve to suffer. She deduced that they had an agreement to discuss their issues after this whole chaos, but that promise cannot be guaranteed now.

Similar to Ai, guilt must be consuming him. Jodie had cherished him despite his unreasonable treatment towards her. The moment he wanted to make amends with her, she was taken away, and he'll be damned if something happened to her.

Akai had already lost another, he cannot afford to lose Jodie - even if he had not truly been good to her.

Yes, both cousins will be damned if they were too late to save their respective treasures.

"Are you ready to see Boss-sama?" Vinsanto said in a sing-song voice, "he wants to play chess with you!"

Conan winced at her behaviour. The girl was indoctrinated beyond measure. He nodded, he needed answers from the Boss.

"Good boy!" she chirped with a wink, "you're so cute that I could kiss you again! But I won't, only one kiss allowed from Vinsanto-chan and you've already reached that quota." He frowned at that comment. She was the one that forced a kiss on him when he got caught.

Such a crazy bitch - he thought with wrath.

She skipped joyfully along the hallway, each step with an added spring to make her pink-dyed hair fly like the wind. Conan could smell a faint cherry scent shampoo that she used, invading his senses that covered up the stench of grim within the compound.

Having a conversation with the girl was the last thing he would want, but perhaps she was a blabbermouth and had a strange attachment to the Boss, so he had to ask, "Vinsanto, how old is the Boss exactly?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned to him.

She pouted, "why, that is not a nice to thing to ask! But no one really knows actually. Does it matter? He looks handsome in his youth form, that I'm not complaining! But you know...I am curious. He does tell me stories about himself - like how he used to be a detective, worked for the organisation as "Whisky" and his birth!"

"Birth-?"

"He was part of this eugenics experiment, where they marry off couples with similar traits. He had a twin brother that had blue eyes. They were puzzled why he had green, given that their parents both had blue eyes. I don't know what they did to him or his brother - he never got to that part of the story. I do wish he tells me about it," she explained.

"Funny, I remember clearly that he had mentioned to Vermouth that it was a twin sister, not a brother who had blue eyes," a voice spoke up.

"And he had ended up killing her," he added.

It was the voice Conan disliked the most.

"Gin-"

He was ready to lurch onto the man again if it wasn't for the handcuffs.

Gin went on, ignoring the growl that escaped in Conan's throat, "that guy's a goddamned liar. He likes to entertain people with different yet similar stories of his past. I bet he's amused at the fact that people are thinking which is the truth. Some have to be true of course, because it does corroborate with what we've seen and heard. Like how he'd work as 'Whisky' in this organisation before stabbing Anokota in the back or that he saved Vermouth by donating his blood to her - I never saw him work here, but that can be confirmed by Vermouth. Or that he claimed to have a daughter with a lover that fled - that too, can be seen by the fact that he has a grandson. There were other dubious ones. Like Chianti told me once, that he said that he had met a Japanese girl that clung to him like a love-sick puppy. That couldn't be true unless that occurred before or after that whole Berlin wall incidence."

[A/N: Remember that chapter when Ayumi talked about her grandmother and a blonde boy with green eyes her grandmother liked? Kukuku...]

"Oh don't be such a party pooper, of course, stories have different versions! Why give the answer right away when you can have more fun seeing people deduce them? Honestly, I don't get why you hate him so much, it was not as if he's inherently evil. He rescued me once, you know. I was a child, my parents were shot and my house was lit on fire. I thought I was a goner. But he came like an angel from the skies and picked me up. I owed him my life till this very day," Vinsanto babbled excitedly.

"Did you know who shot your parents?" Conan piped up. A dark thought was emerging in his head.

"No," Vinsanto said, "I was very young. I never knew them. It doesn't matter anymore. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing-" he said grimly. The thought tasted bitter and disgusting.

"And Gin...He told me he had a son, not a daughter! I bet he told me the truth!" she said with her tongue stuck out, like a child bullying another.

The silver-haired man gruffed in irritation, "doesn't matter, bottom line- the guy's dishonest and cunning. He probably lied to you at least once."

"And manipulative..." Conan added sternly.

"It's not like both of you are honest folk. Whatever, I don't care if you hate him anyway," she shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes turned lethal in a split second, "but try to touch him, and I will kill you."

"We're here!" Vinsanto announced, knocking on the door.

"Come in-"

Then, as the door opened, Conan held his breath. The room was neat and tidy, the walls surrounded by shelves with books and antiques. In the centre of it were a large squared mahogany table and a few swivel chairs. The only chair that was not empty turned, its occupant cast his lime-green eyes on the three of them.

Then the voice, that he thought he trusted, greeted him, "good evening, detective. It's been a while, but I've kept my promise."

So this was why - Haibara was extremely uncomfortable even when we are at Agasa's place and not to mention, at school. No wonder...Because he was there. Just watching. Pretending.

Before Conan could speak, Gin aggressively trudged forward. He grabbed the Boss's collar, "you bastard. You didn't even bother sending out people to find Sherry, even though you had promised that I can have my revenge on her. But to an enemy like that detective brat, you can keep the end of your bargain?"

Strangely, the boy with the golden hair was composed, "I don't care about your obsession with the traitor. Frankly, it was your previous leader's blunder. They didn't deceive me. I have no ill resentment towards that girl or the Miyano family. Capturing her doesn't fit my agenda, the idea of it held merits to use as a bait and seeing our dear friend here, it worked."

"You-!"

The silver-haired man whipped out his gun and held it point-blank at the Boss. Yet, the target remained unmoving. Vinsanto was ready to launch a counter-attack, but her superior raised his hand up and she halted.

"Go ahead, I dare you," he taunted, "kill me and see what happens to you."

"What-?"

"Gin, you're as impulsive as always. Sometimes too careless for your own good. Has it occurred to you what the surgery did? Or did you not care, only wanting to torture the detective in exchange for the surgery?" the Boss replied, giving an all-knowing smile.

"Don't be cryptic with me, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Since you readily accepted a surgery in exchange for me to grant you the permission to torture the boy, did you know what it was for?" he continued, "but I'll tell you anyways, for you to understand. It's a microchip that contains a bomb, just enough to blow your head off."

"Fuck you! I will kill you before you even activate it!" Gin hollered.

The blond boy shook his head. "I advise not to," he replied, "you won't find the remote control anywhere. It's in here."

He pointed to his chest, where his heart was.

He explained, "it only activates when my heart stops beating. In other words, if I die, you die along with me."

The man was shaking with wrath, yet, was unable to unleash his fury on the target. If Gin kills the Boss, that would mean he would kill himself too. Feeling helpless, he lowered his gun and muttered, "damn it... You've thought of this since the beginning."

The Boss's lips tugged a little, the playful gleam in his adamantine ores was directed to the three people in his room, he said, with an underlying mocking tone, "what's it like... I wonder... To be compelled to protect someone you resent."

Gin walked away in defeat, more frustrated than ever.

"Phew, you scared me there! But I knew you'd always pull through!" Vinsanto chattered and set herself beside the Boss.

He placed a hand on top of her head gently, she squealed at the gesture, "do not worry too much about me. Now run along, I have matters to discuss with the detective. Would you be so kind to make tea for the guest and me?"

"Okay-!"

Conan watched her skip like a schoolgirl, with awe and pity. As she closed the door, the air of silence became louder.

Sapphires met emeralds.

"Vinsanto's a sweet girl, isn't she? Please, have a seat and make yourself at home," he gestured at the chair opposite of him.

Conan took his first step. It dawned on him that he has yet to move ever since he stepped into this room. It all happened too fast - Gin bursting in and threatened the boy, but it easily backfired.

After settling down, the detective with oceanic eyes started, "she doesn't know, does she? The one who assassinated her parents."

"I suppose not," the Boss answered, "ignorance is bliss. She wasn't on my hitman list, but they were."

Conan saw the Chessboard of Gwendellau before him - the case that started it all. The detective realised that they did make an agreement to play chess again. The gold and silver blared, blinding his vision for the moment.

He was about to start when the door came bustling through and Vinsanto came into view with a serving tray that carried tea sets. She poured the tea to both of the boys with grace.

"Thank you," the blond boy said with a smile, in which the girl delightfully took as a compliment.

"Anything else-?"

"Nothing, thank you very much, my dear sunshine," he said once more, "now run along."

She did exactly what he said.

Meanwhile, Conan could only watch in awe at how the puppeteer could pull her heartstrings, without suspicion and ease. He turned to the controller and snarled, "you completely make me sick."

"The same goes to you, well," the Boss replied without any indication of malice, like it was a natural response, "you should drink the tea before it gets cold. It's English Breakfast Tea, it is good for health."

"No, I'm good-"

The Boss then took a sip of the cup that was meant for Conan and added, "there's no poison."

Conan couldn't hide his shock, he stammered, "I didn't- I didn't say I was-" but his voice faltered. He decided that there was no way he could defend himself. The Boss smiled knowingly, in which Conan shifted in his seat uncomfortably and reached to take a sip.

The Boss was treating him with much hospitality, but it felt so out of place and unnatural that Conan wished that he wasn't treating him nicely at all. He expected that there would be a series of yelling and violence once he entered the room, but nothing happened.

Insisting on just going with the flow, Conan picked up a pawn.

It had been about 30 minutes since the game had started.

The atmospheric pressure was squeezing Conan's throat. He had never been an expert in this game - he knew well enough to win, but not against a person who is as cognitively capable as he is. He wanted to break the silence, yet he needed it desperately to concentrate. His palm was sweating profusely and there was an insufficient amount of tea to quell his thirst.

"Does Kudo Shinichi still appear in your head?"

The bespectacled boy let out an involuntary gasp. He stopped in the midst of placing his piece, almost dropping it. His heart was palpitating - he never told anyone!

The oceanic waves met the grasslands again.

Eyes as dense as the Amazon forest gleamed joyfully as if it was a child who got a perfect score on a test. "I used to talk to my sibling," he continued, pointing a finger to his temple, "in here."

The ambiguity of the gender - whether the person in question was his sister or brother, hung in the air. Conan figured that he was aware that he was being cryptic to the other members and that the Boss was unwilling to give away that mystery - he figured that perhaps the Boss isn't generous of giving answers.

Perhaps it was better to leave some unanswered.

"A little bird told me your sibling was murdered by someone," Conan replied. Again, not being too detailed - whether the murderer was someone else or the Boss himself, perhaps Conan will never know. It left a bitter taste in his mouth - it was an insult to his profession, the dissatisfaction of not ever deducing a mystery.

"Yes, I suppose," the Boss stood up, walking over to a shelf. He carried a case - one that was filled with clear liquid, it resembled a lava lamp. He took it with him and sat down on the chair, huddling the case.

To the detective's surprise, it showed a pair of eyes submerged in the liquid - two large cerulean orbs met his own.

"My sibling couldn't leave me alone, I suppose Kudo Shinichi is the same with you. There's something you have not yet come to terms with and he'll only disappear once he's done with you," he spoke again, admiring the pair of optic organs on the case.

His head snapped up to meet the detective's oculus. He cocked his head to the side - one that might think that the Boss was innocent. He commented, "my twin had eyes like yours. No jadedness in those pair of irises. Those pairs used to read Holmes with me."

"The eugenic doctors must have been so confused then," Conan, for the first time, bantered back, "twins - with different sets of colours. Vermouth also mentioned you saved her by donating blood. Vermouth has golden blood as well - a very rare type indeed. One that is compatible with the rest of the population, but unable to receive blood. Those types are valuable subjects in experiments back then."

"Of course, they were very perplexed but I leave that up to your imagination. I'm not here to hear you patronise and pity me. You're a detective, I suppose by now you know which are false," he responded, his tone laced with poison.

The Boss laid his head on top of the case - as if it was a souvenir from a beloved one (which it was if you would perceive it sickeningly).

Damn it, I can't seem to back him into a corner - not when he's emotionally stable and not straightforward. Maybe I'm taking this the wrong way. Perhaps I shouldn't discover his origins. He'll lie about it easily and right now, I have very few resources to have some clues. I do have a hunch that some are true and some are not so true, but maybe if-

"You're wasting your time if you wish to interrogate me and write my biography," the Boss intervened his thoughts, "let's talk about you - do you change your mind, after everything you see here?"

The dark-haired boy frowned. What did he mean by that? All that happened to him recently was a string of failures, deaths and discovering secrets that left him in misery. Conan had never felt so hollow and helpless - it was all because of this. What started to be a seemingly simple case of lock-room murder had grown into a tangled mess of chaos.

"You initiated this, didn't you? From the start to the end," Conan replied, still moving the chess pieces and never tearing his gaze from the baby blues inside the case - only Lord knows how those eyeballs ended up there.

But why? All these efforts - for what purpose? Why bother trying to stage all these? Was it worth massacring people?

Conan's brows furrowed even further.

"Would it flatter you if I say that this whole thing was for you?" he answered with a smile- darn it, Conan would not be surprised if the Boss had the ability to read minds.

"Don't talk shit with me, no one would do anything this extravagant for a petty reason-"

"Why not?" he shrugged nonchalantly, placing both his hands together and resting his chin on top of it, "the way I see it: a wannabe detective boy, with no greens in his eyes, equipped with insurmountable knowledge and undying faith in truth and justice...had been tragically exposed to such sourness. Will he accept the sour fruit or continue searching?"

The bespectacled boy slammed his fist on the table.

Shaking and rattled, "this is bullshit! Do you- do you have any idea how many lives were lost? All of this is just some sort of boardgame to you, isn't it? Genta, do you remember him? He died. You killed him. Even if, say, you were just pretending to be friends... Don't you have a heart? Why did he have to die anyway?"

The Boss's upper lip twitched up a little, "I ordered a death to be like mine. A sack over their head. When I faked my death, I used another dead body and had it burnt, so that it will not be recognisable. The other members thought it'll be better to have a similar death to mislead the rest...so there you go. I couldn't decide, so I had a roulette where it decides who to kill, so it could have been anyone really. There was no reason - it could have been Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, one of the syndicate members. Or even the girl that you so happen to love very much. Just so happens the odds were against Genta."

"Plus, it adds to the pain of losing someone. All the more to drive you to a very dark place-"

"Fuck you," Conan spat, "you really make me sick!"

"Screw this," he added, flipping the chessboard harshly. The pieces flew all over the room.

"And to think-! I shouldn't have trusted you!" he ranted on. However, Conan halted - yes, being betrayed by the Boss was another part of digging the pit of misery for him. No surprise there. He loathed being toyed like a fool. Outfoxed in the most methodological way as possible.

It all clicked to him. After being years of being treated as an important, special person... It was the first time someone had treasured and yet, viewed him as trash. Conan's deduction was far-fetched, but this was the only truth he could cling to (if it was the truth, even). He assumed that perhaps the Boss really did this all for him - to bring him the worst predicament to force him to his knees and sink into despair. Perhaps, to the Boss, he was some sort of a laboratory mouse, to be observed on his reactions and behaviour when subjected to dire conditions.

Perhaps there were two choices before him: to continue believing in the truth or see everything as false.

If Conan were to choose the former, it would mean proving the Boss's hypothesis wrong. And most of all, a slap in the face that the Boss's decision of his path was wrong.

Deep down, Conan truly desired to win - to smash the claim into bits. Yet, it would translate to him being alright with everything that has occurred, in which he is completely not. Would he dare to- even think of- no! His head was swirling... Unable to come to terms with the dilemma, the boy broke down an uncontrollable sob and slumped back to his seat.

The boy with the golden hair watched, unflinchingly. Albeit his cool disposition, his willows sparkled with sadism. He stood up and held a hand out to the sobbing teen, "the problem with us detectives is that we believe that there is one truth. While that is true, the flaw in that is that it is hidden with many half-truths and finding it is a pandora's box that should never be opened. Funny, we're not allies, but you're the closest to what I have as an ally. I just lost my grandson to a suicide - let's hope we won't lose you."

In the midst of fighting the devilry, you're not aware that you've been swallowed by it until there is no way of return.

He looked up, like a sinner seeking for salvation in church. Conan was tempted. There is no way of returning. Forward is the only way to go. The question is: which way?

Then he remembered.

A picture of a strawberry blonde girl. The choice he just made. The reason why he crushed the antidote. He wanted to be back in her company. That girl too... had seen too many monstrosities in this world - but she chose that path. She did not succumb to the green-eyed monster that had already been consuming her soul.

Before Conan could counter, the alarm erupted. It was soon joined by the sound of gunshots and yelling in the distance.

"Looks like you don't need to look for an escape route," the Boss retracted his arm, "your friends have come to fetch you."

A/N: Phew. I know I cannot satisfy everybody, but this is the best I could come up with. Sorry if this ain't what ya' all I have in mind. Hopefully, it turned okay. I had a dilemma on whether to reveal the past about the Boss, but I decided against it because the mystery seems more appealing. I did not want the Boss to look pitiful.

Challenge: His past can be deduced if you looked through certain hints and historical facts. Not gonna tell you though! Do give me your best deductive guess in the comments/reviews!