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

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Ghost at Twilight

(edited version)

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They leave the bedroom…

They leave the bedroom directly afterwards, as Seiya seems to have finished ironing your dress and is now packing the ironing board away. "Enemy" is a rather strong term for a stranger who just happens to be a good friend of the detective they feared, but you don't give it a second thought since it fits the semi-serious, histrionic tone they used during the conversation. Scanning the bathroom for something you cannot name, you take time to behold the sea of yellow, white, and scarlet roses in the bathtub. Taiki-san must have put them there immediately after his arrival.

For the first time in your life, you're aware of the fact that different roses release different scents. The liquorice fragrance of the golden-yellow roses blend with the spicy perfume of the white roses and the quintessential damask scent of the red roses into an intoxicating concoction refined by the aroma of Seiya's shampoo, which is wafting from the translucent blue carafe on the shower corner shelf. Feeling faint with dark foreboding, you mentally go through the happenings of the last hours to make sense of your feelings. Your anxiety can't have been caused by Seiya, who is as attentive and pleasant as a boyfriend can be; and yet you've felt this deep, ever-growing unease since the first time your interest in him changed. Your alarm must have been provoked by his fragrance, which resembles Gin's so much that it rekindles all your memories of Gin.

Gin's eau de toilette, too, must have been a homemade perfume since he kept it in a flask with a hand-drawn label, which only displayed an illustration of a sweet osmanthus shrub but not the name of the shop or the brand. For a moment, you consider the possibility that it was a customized perfume of the seven crows or that Seiya's parents had sold their creations in the shop where Gin bought his fragrances before you dismiss both theories. If the scent had belonged to the seven crows, it wouldn't make sense for all the three Kou brothers and Kakyuu to wear it while the Organization still existed. The possibility that Gin had bought it from Seiya's parents remains although it would be too extraordinary a coincidence. On the balance of probabilities, there was no connection between Gin, Seiya's parents, and the seven crows at all—and the combination of orange blossoms and sweet osmanthus just happened to be in fashion when Gin bought his eau de toilette.

"What do you think, Seiya, whom would she save if both the sleuth and you were hit by a car or hanging onto the edge of a cliff?"

This juvenile question naturally came from Shortie, who has returned to the living room with his two brothers but is now strolling through the corridor into the bedroom again. Curiously enough, Seiya is running back and forth between the bedroom and the living room, where he opens and closes drawers; and his two brothers keep tailing him like lovesick puppies who have nothing else to do.

"Him, of course!" Seiya contemplates the situation with masochistic glee. "At least out of habit if not out of love. We've known each other for a few hours while she has known him for years. I doubt she would happily push me over the edge of the cliff, though."

He is definitely not the type that evokes sympathy and protective feelings in others, he adds, parenthetically. Most probably, Shiho would immediately save Kudo while he would simply save himself—and thus the little problem would resolve quickly and satisfactorily for everyone.

"I can already see the pattern of your relationship," Taiki-san moans in defeat. "She will take everything you can give while you will get nothing from her in return."

"I'm not going to discuss what I get from her with you since it's none of your business!"

"Our present situation is too complicated! This will never work out, Seiya!"

"Nonsense! I don't expect anything to miraculously 'work out'! I'm going to work for it just as hard as I'd work for a performance or for a movie!"

"I hope you know that this movie won't end before you die if you really plan to stay with her—"

"—which makes it such a great, interesting challenge! I'm going to be the best husband sans papers—or even with papers—you can imagine!"

Comparing Seiya to Gin is like comparing a sunflower to a daisy—or, more fittingly—a falcon to a hyena or an eagle to a vulture. For all you know, you only keep thinking of Gin because stranger-san wears a similar fragrance and is an acquaintance of Tenoh-san—two coincidences which trigger the memory of the one mystery you couldn't solve: How could Gin know about Tenoh-san so that he could attach her name to the mail which would have been sent to the blackmailed people if you had backed up the files as planned?

Before you said your goodbyes at the graveyard, you had informed Tenoh-san that Gin had "muttered" her name before he died (which was the garbled version of the story you had to tell her since you couldn't possibly tell her the truth after choosing her life over the lives of so many people). She only shrugged it off as a lucky guess and claimed that her vigilante group wasn't unknown to the crows although the Organization was too busy fighting more dangerous opponents like the secret services and the terrorists to waste time with her. Don't take this lightly since there must be a traitor among your friends, you implored her. But while Tenoh-san agreed that she would have to look into the matter, she refused to share further information with you after your partnership ended. For better or worse, you didn't have the psychological make-up for any sort of vigilante work—she asserted—and it was better for both of you if you focused on mending your life instead of dabbling in matters which didn't concern you.

There was no denying that she was right. The "Distant King of Heaven", who loves her ostentatious name, is clearly capable of defending herself—knowing her, the traitor wouldn't have time to make their last will and testament before she found them. You were also thoroughly sick of conspiracy and death. All you wanted was peace and change. You were going to forget about Paris and Pandora's Box and start a new life as the former prodigy Miyano Shiho, who had "stayed indoors after leaving Infinity due to chronic health issues" and who, on recovery, had decided to give up her promising scientific career for a quiet, comfortable life.

After the relationship between Kudo and Ran grew so serious that she more or less moved into his mansion although she returned to her father's agency every other day to take care of the drunken slob, you gradually let go of your hopes and consoled yourself that you had atoned for your crimes in this way. Every now and then, you would dream of the Cupid you had dropped into the pond at Monet's House. In your dreams, the Cupid's eyes were of the same intense blue as the Blue Lagoon which Tenoh-san offered you the last time you visited her seaside house… before you sent her the antidotes to the custom-made poison, which you had yet to complete, as the poison was much harder to create than the antidotes, which were only a slight modification of the antidote you were going to give Kudo…

"Can I come in?"

When you open the door, your stranger enters the bathroom with the air of a vampire who has been invited into a potential victim's house. The analogy is inevitable, as his first action after closing the door behind himself is nibbling at your neck and your ear. This new kissing addiction is most worrisome, Seiya admits. He should apologize for his brothers instead of assaulting you at the first opportunity.

"Taiki and Yaten are usually mistrustful against strangers but not hostile. I even had the impression that they liked you very much before you bashed the hedonistic idol life to defend Kudo."

He has addressed the issue without a trace of rancour. And when you offer a grudging apology for your rant, he gives a dismissive wave and chuckles in remembrance. His brothers are overprotective and need to take things easy for once, he remarks. They are also insufferable snobs, but they are the sort of people you want to have around when you're in serious trouble.

"I don't know what I'd have done on the streets without them. Taiki forced us to learn all the math problems and poems and novels he knew by heart while Yaten took care that we were all as clean as cats. We were the best-educated and best-groomed street musicians the world had ever seen!"

"And what did you do?" you ask as you wrap your arms around his neck. He already feels strangely familiar, more like a husband than a boyfriend of less than four hours.

Nothing, Seiya admits. He only sang and enjoyed the weather, or observed his surroundings and imitated the people he saw. Before your inner eye, you can see him stroll along the river bank, laughing about the many absurdities he encountered in life and returning the smiles of the people passing by.

"You took care that you three stayed the happiest street people the world had ever seen," you suggest, whereupon he flashes you a wry smile.

"'Happy'…" he echoes with unexpected irony before he smiles. "Well, we were certainly as happy as we could be under the circumstances."

The longer you know Seiya, the more you're convinced that your life together will be great. Mistakes will immediately be forgiven, conflicts will instantly be addressed and resolved. Serious misunderstandings will never arise, and slight misunderstandings will never turn into an issue. Being with him feels so right that you're already dreading the day this relationship must end. After all, even the happiest couple will eventually be separated by death unless they're lucky enough to leave this world together.

Your chapped lips burn for an agonizing second when you two kiss, before the sparks of pleasure ease the pain. Although your hunger for each other has momentarily been sated and the desire for a physical union has made way for a less feverish—though not less addictive—sense of belonging so that you two are now kissing at a luxuriantly slow speed, you can swear that you've never felt anything close to this.

For the first time in your life, you believe that the Ancient Greeks' explanation of romantic love was right. Their figurative language was closer to the truth than the cynical modern theories on infatuation (or worse: "limerence"), which are used to kill off the first flicker of love in gullible people. Humans have each been split into two halves, which should never be reunited so that they can be easily controlled and won't become too strong or wild. And even though their paths almost never cross and they can't find each other in life, the two pieces of a whole will be searching for their love until they die.

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