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.
FS
g.
Ghost at Twilight
(edited version)
g.
This is another…
This is another version of the "Ghost at Twilight"
—and like the other versions, it's neither complete nor true.
All versions lie even when they tell the truth
—and there are missing fragments, which shall be hidden from you.
g.
The cold was washing over you
—the sky assumed the colour of blood.
Your handbag had fallen out of your limp hand
but you couldn't let go.
Someone special depended on your painkillers,
which only you could make
—and being the responsible scientist you were,
you couldn't leave before knowing he wouldn't suffer…
g.
The sunset slowed down as Time began to stretch,
to give her twenty-four hours of Eternity
—and the Ghost rose and hurried into the park,
towards the bench where he would be waiting for her.
g.
The last twenty-two hours have been a trial
—the prize for the one day you received.
You've defended yourself in front of the Gods,
supported by the very men you've wronged.
You've been travelling through the present and the past, roaming Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, and Paris, rummaging through the twenty-three years and eleven months of your life for an answer to the questions, for the one truth… or for justice…
g.
Pluto and Jupiter are your formidable opponents.
Chronos has asked Time to run in circles for a day.
Fortuna has shuffled, reshuffled, and distributed the cards,
The Fates have thrown the dice,
And Justitia is presiding as the judge.
g.
Demanding an ally for your impossible quest,
pointing out that two against one is unfair,
you wished for good company to share your loneliness
—another Ghost at Twilight, from another universe.
g.
Pluto and Jupiter both wanted to play,
While both conceded that your wish made sense.
Venus and Cupid agreed whereas Mars shook his head.
Fortuna rolled her eyes—but Justitia nodded.
Mercury vetoed that you'd be breaking the rules
—For two ghosts at twilight can't share the same scene.
Nemesis suggested to turn him into a wild card.
And you accepted—without knowing who he was…
g.
Kaito, Hakuba, Hattori, and Jean Black are Jacks.
Kakyuu, Akemi-nee-san, Odango, and Kaioh-san are Queens.
Kudo, Gin, Rye, and Tenoh-san are Kings.
Anokata, their crows, and the Professor are Aces.
g.
Akemi-nee-san, Kudo, Kaito, and the Professor are Hearts.
Odango, Rye, Hattori, and the agents motards are Diamonds.
Kaioh-san, Tenoh-san, Jean Black, and the crows are Clubs.
Kakyuu, Gin, Hakuba, and Anokata are Spades.
g.
The Game of Life doesn't come with a manual.
And figuring out the God's rules is a difficult task.
The dice are all loaded, all the cards have two sides,
a few cards are doubled—and some change as time passes.
g.
The Ace of Hearts is also a Jack of Hearts.
The King of Hearts is also an Ace of Diamonds.
The Queen of Hearts is also an Ace of Spades.
The Jack of Hearts is also a King of Diamonds.
g.
The most courageous Ace is your King of Hearts.
The most amiable Ace was your dearest companion.
The most charming Jack was your nicest crush.
And your sister brought you darkness when she proved to you her love.
g.
Your stranger and his brothers are the San Hikari,
the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars in the dark
—the most beneficial or the most harmful wild cards,
the highest trumps or the worst excuses,
the jesters that can turn the game around,
depending on the rules
and on luck…
g.
Venus and Mars are still following the game
—While Cupid has been secretly messing up the cards.
Felicitas has always been trying to help,
But Nemesis has always interfered.
g.
Pluto has played most of his Aces,
The King of Spades, and the most loved Queen.
Jupiter has drawn all the Jacks.
You are losing… but there are still wild cards left.
g.
Encountering each other during a magical sunset,
chasing together after the same double rainbow.
Apollo has forged you a two-faced card
—The highest Joker, and another Ace of Hearts.
A temptation beyond your wildest dreams,
An impossible love that will cause you pain
—Your ideal partner, whom you shouldn't have met
… For you made the Choice during another sunset…
g.
Protecting you both from Dolor or Algos
While fatally wounded by Cupid's stray arrow.
Your nameless stranger was your highest possible trump
—Until Fortuna reshuffled the cards,
and the Fates threw the dice anew.
g.
Pluto cheated while Jupiter looked away
—And helping a ghost isn't exactly Venus' job.
Minerva was not present while Justitia is blind,
And Cupid, the heartless prankster, only applauded.
g.
Late in the game, during the second round,
Athena or Minerva comes breezing in.
Joining Felicitas, she gives you sound advice:
"Beware of the Queen of Spades—and don't be too nice!"
g.
Mercury thinks you've been sufficiently warned.
There are two ghosts here—but only one can stay.
Even if one lives, the other one will fade,
For he belongs to an alternative universe.
g.
Waiting for him in the ending twilight,
Knowing you can never really win against Time.
And Nemesis smiles as the twenty-third hour passes,
While Mars is furious at you for losing to the past.
g.
The truth, in this world, can't be expressed by words.
But a silent love can't live in an imperfect place.
On the horizon, the last rays of sunlight fade,
And the other ghost returns to his time and space.
g.
This version of the tale doesn't have a happy end,
And you will forever be searching for him in vain.
Your sorrow, however, is both pain and bliss,
The exquisite suffering that only love can cause
When having known the beloved is already enough.
g.
This is one version of the "Ghost at Twilight"
—and like the others, it's neither complete nor true.
The full truth is always hiding in the gaps
—in the silence… and shall be hidden from you.
g.
Since the rain has stopped…
Since the rain has stopped, we can take a walk together until he fetches Ran from the train, Kudo suggests after I've offered or rather stammered my condolences over the demise of his first relationship, which must be a severe blow to him. Leaving the tea pavilion, I notice in irritation that on the daily calendar at the wall near the entrance, the calendar page of yesterday hasn't been turned—a sign of neglect, which wouldn't have disturbed me on another day. But after the last twenty-two hours, the gulf between Friday and Saturday appears to me so vast that it's impossible for me to grasp why, to the people whose lives haven't undergone a sea change like mine, tonight might as well be Friday night.
Ichinohashi Park is the place of couples and pigeons, as Kaioh-san once said. While the pigeons are still here, no couple can be seen. We two are the only people strolling under the blooming cherry trees, which are already shedding their tiny pink petals. In the distance, I can see silhouettes in the moving cabins of the giant wheel, which looks like the colossal Wheel of Fortune in front of the golden sunset. Avoiding the noisy amusement park, Kudo and I wend our way along the main road, occasionally lingering under a tree to watch the forgetful squirrels as they dig in vain for their long-forgotten nuts.
Last night, I was keenly aware of Kudo's reluctance to leave Tokyo although I was so completely preoccupied with my own sorrow this morning that I distractedly dismissed his change in mood. Hearing all the arguments against a committed, long-time relationship from his mouth—arguments which might as well have come from mine—is nevertheless so disconcerting that I can barely contain my bewilderment. It seems everything about being in a steady relationship has been getting on Kudo's nerves, even light duties like calling Ran whenever he stays away for a whole night to work on his cases, justifying himself to her whenever he forgets to buy the salt, or having dinner with her when he'd rather go to bed with his notebook or a novel and a cup of tea. Seeing her every single day has also killed the last ounce of couple chemistry they had. And while he still loves her dearly, which he repeatedly stresses to assuage his guilt, all the futile attempts at staying in love with her have drained him so much that he'd rather go through the drama of a separation.
What saddens him most about their relationship is the realization that returning to Ran after the downfall of the Organization has become one of his greatest regrets, Kudo tells me in front of the stone stairs to the restored Hikawa Shrine, where a slender miko with scarlet lips, long sleek black hair, and a perfect porcelain face is sweeping the courtyard. Behind her, a handsome, long-legged brunette with lush curls in a high ponytail is pruning the large cherry wish tree. Where do they grow all these stunning girls, I wonder, amazed at the tremendous amount of beauty around me.
After the first year, in which he made several clumsy attempts to put his feelings into words and tell Ran the truth, he has really "tried hard to make it work," Kudo proceeds, evoking images of candle-lit dinners, hot bubble baths, and carefully planned, tender lovemaking. As he absently kicks at a pebble on the ground, a sharp pang of regret shoots through me. He even spent more time with Ran and less time with his cases with the spectacular result that Ran ended up begging him to follow his passion, unable to stand being with a modern Sherlock Holmes who had too much free time on his hands. Relieved, Kudo returned to his cases while Ran focused more on her karate. And while they both have profited from the arrangement, they have also continued to grow apart.
When the offer to lead the dojo in Osaka came, it was clear to both of them that Ran should grab the chance. Forcing himself to act like the ideal boyfriend despite thinking that the two of them make lousy lovers and should never have crossed the boundaries of friendship, Kudo voluntarily offered to come with her. But in view of her barely concealed horror at his suggestion, he finally had to admit that their present relationship—a friendly but passionless coexistence with the occasional bickering—was giving cause for concern.
"Long-term relationships thrive on compatibility, not passion, Kudo," I console him, diplomatically—hypocritically—acting out the exemplary friend I should be to him and her although I'm the opinion that he has made the right choice. "As sad as it is, even the greatest passion will turn into a moderately pleasant partnership in the long run."
Despite my words, it's hard for me to imagine Seiya and me sharing the same apartment like a pair of distracted siblings who never really touch apart from the obligatory goodbye peck on the cheek. Although Kudo's addiction to mysteries has always been worrisome, I'd never have expected him to become so indifferent to a… well… womanly woman like Ran. At least she seems to have become immune to his charms as well if one can trust his words. Naturally, I try to take Kudo's version of their love story with a pinch of salt since the same tale often sounds different from another point of view.
"Ran and I can return to each other when we're both over a hundred years old, then," Kudo dryly remarks, unexpectedly revealing his old sense of humour, which I've almost forgotten that he possesses. "Right now, this relationship isn't satisfying to either of us since we have totally different expectations. She wants to lead the dojo, marry, and have at least two kids. I want to travel and discuss mystery novels with her. So Ran suggested that I visit you to find out whether I'd prefer to stay in Tokyo or whether I'd like to start anew with her in Osaka. She is trying to come to terms with her own feelings as well."
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. But when I finally grasp the implications, I have to fight the urge to hit him.
"So it was her, who told you to visit me?" I wheel around to him with narrowed eyes, clinging to the hope that we've misunderstood each other. "Why me out of all people?"
With a start, I realize that I'm the only person Kudo can confide in when it comes to his relationship problems. The Professor is dead. Hattori is in Osaka and the last guy from whom he can expect sound relationship advice, considering Hattori's tumultuous relationship with his fiancée, who regularly uses her Aikido on him. Kudo's father is perpetually engrossed in his own writing. Kudo's mother loves to meddle in Kudo's private life too much to be of any help when he faces real problems. Kudo can't possibly dump his romantic woes on the Detective Boys. And it's out of the question that he confides in Sonoko, who can't keep any secret to herself and who has always been Ran's friend, not his. In his eyes, I'm the last sensible and trustworthy person left. I must have interpreted too much into his words…
Much to my heartache, I haven't misinterpreted his remark at all, for Kudo only smiles and informs me with his characteristic brazenness: "Yes. In case you're wondering whether Ran knows about us: I've already told her everything."
"She knows…" I echo, feeling faint all of a sudden. "You've told her about Pandora's Box?"
"About our quarrel and my proposal, about Paris, well, about everything…" He looks straight into my eyes with his unblinking gaze, blithely unaware of his wrongdoings. "It took me a whole year to admit it to her, but I couldn't have pretended that nothing had changed between us. She deserves to know."
"You said you were going to 'turn back time'! You should have stuck to your word for once and do what you said instead of spilling the beans!" I can't believe I've gone out on cinema dates with Sonoko and Ran without suspecting that Ran… or rather Ran and Sonoko and probably all of Sonoko's friends, as the annoyingly innocent angel can't keep any secret from her indiscreet best friend, know about the past "proposal gone wrong" between Kudo and me.
"But of course she understands—"
"Of course she understands…" I explode, incensed at his naiveté. "She always understands everything. It's me, who won't ever understand it, Kudo! You should have asked me before you expose me to your girlfriend and her friend! All I wanted was a clean start—without the Organization, without the damned files, and most of all, without you, haunting me."
"You can't erase anything from the past, Ai," he claims with an exasperated, tired smile, whereupon I retort that at least I can try.
We would have argued much longer about the matter if I hadn't spotted a shock of golden-blonde hair floating towards the stairs at the entrance of Hikawa Shrine, which Kudo and I have just left behind us. Despite her red sunglasses, it's easy for me to recognize her Marilyn Monroe's face and Mona Lisa's smile, which has adorned various perfume and lipstick advertisements. Aino Minako, as lovely in real life as in the photoshopped ads, is climbing the stairs to the courtyard, where her appearance is greeted by the miko's gruff, husky, deep voice with the cryptic words: "Finally, here comes our brightest star in the firmament—fashionably late, as always!"
"How does the saying go? 'Time flies when you're dressing up'," Aino Minako laughs. She has a high voice and a deep, contagious, ringing laugh, whose childlike carelessness jars with her seductive, knowing smile.
"Venus is the brightest planet beside Jupiter," Kudo, who has followed my gaze, explains. "Since it's also the name of the Roman Goddess of Love, it's an allusion to her name: Aino Minako, the 'beautiful child of love'. It seems the idol has come back to Tokyo to film the new romantic comedy with Two Lights."
Gazing after the modern-day goddess of love, I wonder why Odango has been driving in the opposite direction when one of her best friends is coming to Hikawa Shrine. Chances are that they have planned to meet up at "Rei-chan's" place, where they used to study together, and Odango has managed to get lost again.
"It's funny how her looks match her name," I muse, indicating her red shoes, the long chain of gold hearts around her hips, and the red bow in her long blonde hair. "Kaito and I once talked about how much life resembles a card game. If people were cards, Aino-san would surely be the Queen of Hearts." Despite Seiya's claim that there has never been anything between them, I still feel a little pang of jealousy, as I haven't really forgiven "Mina" for the "awesome night" she mentioned in the card I read this morning.
Who am I kidding? Living with Seiya would have been torture in more than a way. Even Shortie has warned me about it. And yet the most magnetic chemistry often exists between opposites who would drive each other nuts in daily life. Even without destructive external circumstances, making an infatuation last is a balancing act, a challenge which no sensible person would voluntarily take on if the nasty hormones hadn't deactivated their rational thinking.
"And which Queen are you?" Kudo asks with an insolent smirk. "The Queen of Diamonds or the Queen of Clubs, as harsh and difficult as you are today?"
"If I were a card, I'd be the Ace of Hearts because I've sacrificed my precious time and sleep to save a thankless brat from his migraine. But I'm not a card," I smirk back. "In my own life, I'm the player."
And sometimes—I add as I can remember my boredom before I drew my wild card—I find the game so tedious that I'd like to break it off.
"Today, for instance," Kudo wryly remarks.
"No, not today. Today it's just… complicated. Confusing, in a not-so-good way."
Meanwhile, we've arrived at the Sphere Towers, the skyscrapers, which have been built on the ruins of Infinity. The only thing which has remained from my school days is the huge marble fountain, where Kudo and I are sitting now, watching the sunset mirrored in the water beside us.
He has been thinking of setting up his own detective agency, Kudo says, giving me a smile whose brilliance staggers me. The thought of starting anew in Beika obviously does him good. His pale skin has regained its usual glow, and his bright eyes, of a mesmerizing violet-grey similar to Taiki-san's in the pink light, are shining again like they used to do.
"Great!" I behold his radiant face with motherly pride. "You can't do all the work for the Sleeping Drunk forever. Working independently, you can really become the Sherlock Holmes of the twenty-first century some day."
"I've been wondering whether you're interested in helping me out a bit," he says after throwing a fleeting sidelong glance at me. "Since I'll be busy at the crime scene, I'd be happy to have someone who can record the data of my cases, type my notebooks, and answer the phone for me. You also have so much forensic knowledge that you'd speed up the whole process. We can be partners…" He gives a slight, anxious cough, fidgeting with the leather jacket in his hands like a nervous elementary schoolboy. "Since I'm a bit messy whenever I'm stressed, it won't hurt to have someone nagging me to clean up my office regularly."
"You're asking me to become your Watson?" I blink at him, wavering between being insulted and elated by his proposal.
"Not Watson!" He chuckles at the thought as if he has been comparing me to Watson and has arrived at the obvious conclusion that I don't resemble the loyal, simple Dr Watson in the least. "Your mind is much too sharp and you're much too hard to read. If you were a character in the Sherlock Holmes universe, you'd be Irene."
From his mouth, this is the most candid love declaration a woman can ever receive. Knowing Kudo's overly romantic reading of "A Scandal in Bohemia", about which I've often teased him, the fact that he has likened me to Sherlock Holmes' ideal woman takes my breath away. My date with Seiya might have jolted him out of his apathy and galvanized him into action so that he suddenly (and awkwardly) begins to romance me.
However, the map he drew for me just to ask me for a cherry blossoms viewing session during sunset indicates that Kudo has been thinking about this for quite a while. Who knows what Ran and he have agreed on before she went to her training camp. Perhaps she has even guessed that he will be drawn towards me (or the woman he believes me to be) after distancing himself from her. Ran's ever-increasing karate prowess hasn't been the proof of their happiness as I thought but has rather been a testimony to her frustration with their relationship, which must have been a bitter disappointment to her after the long wait.
"No sweet talk will ever turn me into your sidekick and amanuensis, Kudo!" I eye my detective with mistrust, as I can't be sure of my deductions when he has been sending out mixed signals for a whole day. Wisely holding back the remark that Irene Adler didn't marry Sherlock Holmes but another man—an ending which Kudo has always hated—I steer the conversation towards a less dangerous direction. "If I ever decide to write a novel, it won't be about you."
"About whom would you write then?" he asks, visibly crushed by my change of topic, which is equivalent to a gentle refusal.
"About the Ghost at Twilight," I improvise, going off at a tangent by describing my imaginary novel to him. While all the versions I know focus on the love interest of the ghost, my version would deal with the ghost itself, as it takes a special temperament to defy death for one day just to say goodbye to a shy, repressed idiot, from whom it would only get a belated, indirect, lousy love declaration.
To my annoyance, I've blurted out my version of the ghost story to Kudo. To my relief, he doesn't seem to have noticed it.
"No one would be interested in your novel," he only taunts. "Readers usually like suspense and romance, not a lengthy character analysis which gives them suicidal thoughts."
"Then I'm going to give them not only one but two romances by fusing all the versions I've heard into the same storyline," I declare, bewildered by my own words, for the night Gin told me the ghost story has suddenly emerged from the back of my consciousness, flitting through my mind with disturbing clarity. If the different versions of the ghost story have actually been parts of the same narrative, the peculiarity of the last twenty-two hours would suddenly make sense.
Abnormally long sunsets and twilights interspersed with flashes of fragmented memories of surprising vividness while time seems oddly irregular and stretchable… My endless patience when I stayed on the bench to wait for Kudo, who came late for hours, although I was exhausted and freezing… My unhealthy, almost obsessive interest in Kakyuu's death; my odd wish to justify all my past and present actions to myself; my uncharacteristic eagerness and readiness to consummate my fatal attraction to a stranger, whom I've known for less than a day…
"So the ghost wouldn't only visit its true love but also appear to a stranger three times during the same day in the hope of hearing 'the right words at the right time' from them, whatever that means?" Kudo, whose analytical mind likes puzzles and riddles and easily grasps what my sentence implied, asks.
"Yes, but the ghost wouldn't intentionally be looking for its alternative lover to steal their heart. That would sound so… manipulative and opportunistic. No, my ghost would stumble over the stranger while searching for its past love interest because the Gods placed that person directly in front of its nose. I'd choose Greek Gods to lighten up the dark story because they make colourful antagonists. Also, people always love to read about fateful encounters. Without the concept of fate, life sounds unbearably random."
"Would your ghost be a man or a woman?" Kudo looks genuinely intrigued, his curious eyes glued to my face as if he had just seen me for the very first time.
"A woman, of course, because it would be easier for me to write from a woman's point of view."
The ghost wouldn't expect to find love when it was much too late, a voice in my mind adds. But deep down, she would know that a part of her has been searching for her stranger. When we go, we always want to leave a trace of ourselves behind: an echo, a story, an imprint—even when it's a grieving lover. While she wouldn't expect either of her two loves to pine for her forever, a bit of sadness and nostalgia from time to time sounds fine.
She would steal them from their prospective future loves in the most final way, turning into the elusive ideal woman they can never have. She would forever be haunting them during twilights and sunsets—while she would prevent both of them from saying the right words, preferring to protect all her dark secrets.
g.
A/N: There was an additional poem-chapter before this one in the original version of the fic, which I've deleted since it felt redundant. I could accomplish the same by merging two poems into one in this chapter and changing a few details in the last oracle-poem (in Chapter 76).