Shying
words: 313
As soon as they got back to the professor's home Conan took off and locked himself away in the Kudou mansion to sulk. He knew Ai knew what he was doing too. She'd given him that vaguely amused look that said he wasn't fooling anyone.
Sometimes, he truly hated her for that but, at the same time, he knew she was feeling guilty. He could see it clearly at times. That thought alone served to quell his anger all the way, and even the remaining buzz of annoyance he'd been dealing with constantly as of late filtered away leaving him feeling tired, lonely, and empty.
Conan dragged himself up to his, Shinichi's room, and pulled a box he'd stowed there out. In a matter of minutes sheets of paper, notebooks, and clippings from newspapers were arrayed on his bed. Conan sat at the epicenter, legs crossed, and sifted through the mess with a single mindedness that spoke of an attempt to ignore everything else.
He read case after case: It was all information on things he felt related to the Black Organization. Sometimes he felt like he had the answer before him, he just had to find the right arrangement for the pieces to fit together. Despite himself and, really, without his conscious knowledge Conan found himself shying away from the usual information to poke through another set of clippings, notes, and files altogether.
Ones about a moon white thief with a penchant for base jumping off man made platforms.
It wasn't until later that he realized he'd gotten absolutely nothing done but for the fact he'd managed to reread all the information he had collected on Kid. He hadn't even managed to absorb any of it. It had been more like he was reading an interesting book than examining things for clues and understanding.
Conan wasn't sure what to think of that.