Disclaimer: "Detective Conan" belongs to Gosho Aoyama, and "Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" belongs to Naoko Takeuchi.
This is an alternative story to my other fanfic "Encounter in Venice" and one of the possibilities of what could have happened if Ai had taken the antidote before Shinichi brought down the Organization.
Thanks a lot to my friends and betas Rae (Astarael00) and SN1987a and the Aicoholics on LiveJournal, without whom I would never have started this fic.
This chapter has been betaed by aritzen (SN1987a), who hasn't only kept me motivated for years but is even betaing the long fic now that it has ended. I can't thank her enough!
FS
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Ghost at Twilight
(edited version)
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Now that the stranger...
Now that the stranger has left, you finally realize how still the air at Shinobazu-no-ike has become. Black birds are soaring through the sky without making a sound; the leaves around you are moving so quietly that their continuous rustling sounds not louder than a whisper; and the wind has become so weak that the gentle breeze barely grazes the surface of the water reflecting the last light of the sky.
The only lively things here are the shadows of the birds gliding over the pond—dark indigo apparitions sailing across the water like ghostly ships from another time.
Usually, the world becomes livelier as it darkens, as the creatures of the night awaken and the tiniest sounds seem powerful in the silence. You can remember that you often stayed awake at night and listened to the peculiar, uncanny sounds when you were small. Back then the clouds and shadows still seemed to have the shapes of animals and fabulous monsters, and you feared the darkness far more than you feared the Organization...
From time to time, a ray of sunlight will peep through the pale purple clouds, mirrored by light flashing up in the deep violet water—at times white, at times golden—and brightens up the world around you until it disappears again as quickly as it has come.
Kudo is never late without a very good excuse, you think. On the other hand, this wouldn't be the first time that he hasn't come because someone happened to drop dead on his way. Instead of waiting here for the whole night, you should go home and curl up in bed with a book and a cup of tea.
But "going home" has lost its meaning since the Professor died. Back then, going home meant returning to the house where that mad genius had been waiting for you to prepare his dinner, as he could never cook without destroying half of the kitchen. Sometimes, the Detective Boys or Kudo—or even Ran—would visit you two and bring the biscuits Ran had made. Now going home means returning to an empty apartment and either cooking for only one person or eating the leftovers on the following day. Cooking dinner—or rather housework in general—has turned into a lonely, tedious, tiring task.
You hate to admit it to yourself. But the older you get, the more you realize that you don't belong to the class of people who can live alone, for your mind is too destructive to be let loose on itself. Without distracting company, time-consuming hobbies, a useful purpose in life, or at least a few challenging tasks to fulfil, you will stay forever a detached observer of other people's lives while nothing remarkable happens to you. Since Kaito left, time almost seems to have stopped. For you, only the changing seasons and the happenings in your friends' lives mark the passing of time.
No, you think. Perhaps you're never really honest to yourself, not even now.
You remember that you hated creating APTX 4869 and its counteragent. And you're positive you would have loathed creating any other drug just as much because you hated sitting alone in dark cellars no matter whether they belonged to the Professor or the Organization. You hated watching liquids boil, testing deadly poisons on innocent rats, and looking like a female version of Frankenstein's monster after two sleepless nights!
Like most young women, you love strolling down the streets showing off your distinctive hair without the fear of being shot from behind. You enjoy wearing bright skirts and dresses and shoes which are your real size as well. Without flattering yourself, you know very well that you look like a film star on holiday even without make-up, especially now that the dark rings under your eyes have disappeared completely.
You've always been a vain person, without doubt. Vanity was a character trait whose development the Organization supported and encouraged. The Organization even paid for your subscriptions to various fashion magazines when you were working for them.
And of course you can live on your own, as you are a perfectly organized ex-Black-Organization-scientist, who was raised to live alone. You're able to work highly efficiently so that—even though you work part-time and go to university—you could take a second part-time job without overworking yourself. You have nothing to take care of, anyway. You don't even have a real hobby. Like most independent young women, you spend all the money you earn on random unimportant things, which is not a tragedy, as you don't have a family you need to provide for. None of your friends is in need of money either.
You cannot even say you are lonely. Twice a month (usually on weekends), the Detective Boys drag Ran, Sonoko, and you to a shopping centre or to the cinema. You greatly enjoy those meetings and secretly rejoice in the fact that you almost never meet Kudo anymore, as he usually only has time when you're busy and vice versa. No Kudo means no brutal murders or creepy criminals, although you must admit that there are moments when you do miss Edogawa Conan...
You don't have any problems, you conclude. If the Professor were still alive, you would be happy.
A glance at your watch shows you that you've been waiting for another hour.
You will wait for another hour and, if Kudo has still not come by then, walk to the scene of the accident to look for him. Being a self-absorbed jerk when it comes to solving crimes, he has probably forgotten you again just as he did during your birthday three years ago. It was the same during the first anniversary of the downfall of the Organization although that time he forgot you because Ran wanted to see him for some purely sentimental reason. Or perhaps he will send you a substitute again like he did on your birthday two years ago when he sent you Kaito as a replacement, thinking that you wouldn't notice the difference...
On the other hand, you know you're a resentful, unforgiving, thankless wretch. Kudo has saved your life more than once, after all, so you might as well ignore his inability to spend an evening with you. You can behave like a grown-up and go home now, as Kudo will certainly not come anymore. If he has solved the case by now, he will have gone home because he will have expected that you've gone home long ago. Perhaps he is giving you a call at the moment, thinking that you don't answer the phone because you're mad at him.
It's difficult for you to keep your balance since your legs have fallen asleep. And you discover in surprise that there are goosebumps on your skin, as you've completely forgotten that the air has become cold and damp and that you've been freezing. Now that you've woken up from your apathy, you also notice that the world around you has become livelier again, buzzing with all the tiny creatures of the night...
A cold breeze blows up your dress, and you bend down to straighten it with both hands...
And that's when you finally notice that your handbag is gone.
After recovering from the initial shock and disbelief, you can feel the old half-hearted resignation and mild annoyance washing over you again. The loss of your handbag completely occupies your thoughts now. Your exasperation at Kudo's absence is almost forgotten.
Distracted by the stranger's stories and questions, you might not have noticed its loss, but you've felt all the time that something was wrong, that something important was missing. Luckily, you're sure that your hands were empty when you sat down next to the stranger so that you don't need to stain the positive memories of your pleasant talks with him by suspecting him of stealing your precious bag.
You can remember that, just like the stranger's friend, you had fallen asleep on the bus on the way to Ueno-koen. (It was almost impossible not to fall asleep in that weather, in a bus working its way through the traffic jam at snail's pace.) When you woke up just in time to get out, you must have forgotten your handbag there. You can remember grinning at the young blonde woman sleeping next to you, who had been knocking her head repetitively against the windowpane. She was still fast asleep when you watched the bus chug away. But you can't remember where you left your handbag although you're sure you were holding it in your hand when you were waiting for the bus…
You must have dropped it in your sleep. And now your handbag is either still in the bus or the blonde woman has found it. Or—and this is even more probable—someone else has taken your handbag and left the bus with it by now. Standards have slipped since you were a little girl pining after Gin. Now you can't believe that anyone would return an original Fusae handbag anymore even though it contained nothing but Kudo's map, a pen, your notebook, and your wallet with a bit of money in it.
You're glad you always keep your keys and important papers in your pockets instead of your handbag. Even so, you wish you had left your mobile phone in your handbag and could call your own number to find out whether anyone had found your bag and would return it to you for a generous reward. You hadn't known how much that handbag meant to you before you lost it. It had been sitting in your cupboard for months although (or because?) it was a birthday present from Kudo.
The hollow sound of heels clicking on the pavement—the rhythm of footsteps oddly familiar and foreign at the same time—interrupts your train of thought. Through the lavender light of the late evening, Kudo is coming swiftly towards you, raising his free hand to greet you and to keep his flying hair, which has become longer and messier than you expected, out of his face. Contrary to your expectations, he is not in his usual jeans and jacket but formally dressed in a smart midnight-blue suit and a white shirt with a fluffy collar, and has draped a long white coat over his shoulder in a rather picturesque way.
"Thank God," you sigh, amused at yourself because you really mean it. You must admit there is something ludicrously dramatic and theatrical about the whole scene, but you don't really care, as you're still trying to analyze the funny feeling that seeing him has taken an enormous weight off your mind.
When he comes closer, however, you can see the ring on his finger and the familiar but rather un-Kudo-like mischievous gleam in his eyes. Now his formal clothes, his huge blue travelling bag, and even his ruffled long hair suddenly make sense. And you don't know whether you're more disappointed, glad, or surprised—or shocked at the fact that you didn't recognize him immediately the moment he smiled at you.
"A lovely flower for an even lovelier lady," Kaito grins and—pretending to catch an invisible object flying through the air—presents you with a half-blossomed pink azalea, "although I'd have brought a yellow rose if I had known that I'd meet you here."
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A/N: Thanks a lot to all my reviewers for the feedback. :)
jessica: You can either read this fic an alternative timeline to "Encounter in Venice" or as an independent story. :) There are a few similarities between them since I used the same characters and similar settings; but the two fics don't take place in the same universe.
Momo: XD Please feel free to review as much as you like (but you should keep in mind that reviewing regularly doesn't free you of your obligation to pay the daily compensation to your Discord ex-waifu! :D).