017. Brown.
As he practically flew down the stairs he had somehow magically found in his race to get away from Kid, Conan's brain, oh so helpfully, replayed that few seconds of a shocked pair violet eyes in his mind over and over until it was something he would never forget. The violet eyes that, despite their owners' poker face, could not lie. The eyes that held much in their depths beyond shock, emotions and feelings that Conan had barely seen long enough to glimpse but nowhere near close enough to read. The eyes that had not been fully visible despite being so close because it was still covered by the monocle and the other just slightly eclipsed by a few strands of brown hair that must have been bangs.
…
Brown hair…brown…hair…Brown…HAIR!
He knew what color Kaitou Kid's hair color was now too! This was so wrong on so many levels. He wasn't supposed to find out this way. Conan never wanted to learn anything about Kaitou Kid's true identity this way. Because he had learned some things, hadn't he? For whatever reason, Kid didn't seem to wear masks or wigs on his escapes; he trusted the shadows cast by the moon and stars to do their jobs. And he hadn't had the opportunity to disguise himself, being a bit more preoccupied with keeping Conan alive and maneuvering his glider through the air.
So, now the shrunken teen knew Kid's true eye and hair color. Of course, he was happy knowing that least bit of information about the man who now held his heart, but he hated the way he had found out, hated what it might cost him. But there was nothing he could do about it now…one can't just unlearn something so easily.
Sighing, he reached the ground floor and left through front doors that probably shouldn't have opened so easily or quietly. He figured the phantom thief had helped a little with that. Why wouldn't he? Kaitou Kid still had his honor, after all. But what would their relationship be like from now on? It was entirely up to Kid, wasn't it? …the person Conan had just betrayed.
As he walked back to the Beika Museum, Conan tried to stop his thoughts from running around in circles about what had just happened, what he had done, and what he might have just lost forever, but he couldn't. By the time he had returned, he was close to tears, tears he couldn't stop. Fortunately for him, the police had reawakened from the sleeping gas, and Nakamori was shouting at the top of his lungs once again. So, when Ran found him in a corner crying quietly, he blamed it on a headache caused by the inspector, and she believed him, didn't even think to doubt his words. And after giving Nakamori-keibu one final glare and karate chop to the head, the teenage girl took her young charge home.