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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Descending the stairs…

Descending the stairs to Seiya's apartment, you discover that Taiki-san was right: Seiya and Yaten-san must have "kissed and made up" in the meantime, as they're standing on the threshold together like a loving married couple preparing to go for a routine morning walk. Shortie even manages to conjure up a rueful smile, which instantly transforms him from Snow White's stepmother to Snow White herself. Clutching the parasol in one hand and the incense burner in the other, he looks like a fairytale princess (you bet Shortie would feel the pea through twenty mattresses and twenty eiderdown beds!) who has just received her fairy godmother's long-awaited present on her twenty-fourth birthday.

"I've told your girlfriend about our family," says Taiki-san to Seiya after acknowledging the loot in Yaten-san's hands with a fleeting glance. "You only need to fill the gaps. I think it may interest her how hard you've been struggling with our parents' former employees ever since the family business went bankrupt." To your surprise, his searching gaze travels from Seiya's to Yaten-san's face. "I think she deserves to know all the details. What do you think, Yaten?"

Like the head of the family (or the deity of the stars, who rules over the ocean and decides over each human being's destiny by governing the ebb and flow of life), the oldest brother lets his moody gaze rest on your face for a moment, hesitating as though he had to decide over something as grave as your time of death, before he gives a dismissive wave.

"Do whatever you want—I'm washing my hands of this!" Joining the flower-loving middle brother at the stairs, Yaten-san turns to Seiya for a last time. "Tell her everything if you must—but don't blame me if you're single again within less than an hour!"

With that, he leaves, climbing the stairs to the penthouse apartment with light and steady but cautious steps—the only indications of his injury. You believe to recognize a pitying look in his cool feline eyes when he opens the door and steps inside, but he has turned away so quickly that it might have been only a trick of the light.

"Please do talk about the Hollywood remakes so that we can tell Shizuka-san your decision when she visits us in the studio this afternoon. She went into hysterics when you didn't return to the club last night! It took me three glasses of Starry Night to shut her up." Flashing you a victorious smile, Taiki-san pleasantly adds, "Starry Night is a Chardonnay with Poire William eau de vie and Luxardo Maraschino liqueur—very aromatic! You can also make a Starry Night with sparkling rosé and Van Gogh Açai-Blueberry Vodka. Since there are many different Starry Night recipes with different ingredients, a Starry Night cocktail can vary in taste, colour, and cloudiness. It's a true chameleon, so to speak, which should always be served chilled. There are white, red, violet, and blue Starry Nights. I especially like the Starry Night Martini with Stoli Citrus and Blue Curaçao! Since it contains Blue Curaçao, it's of the same intense, iconic blue as the more well-known Blue Lagoon. We always garnish our Starry Night with a lavender rose bud. Maybe you'd like to try it out in our club someday when you have time—if you haven't tried it yet."

If looks could kill, Taiki-san would be dead, murdered by your boyfriend's impossibly blue eyes. The revelation doesn't come as a surprise, however, as you've already eliminated all the other choices; and the knowledge that Seiya must have been the seventh crow doesn't disturb you in the least. On the contrary, you feel strangely relieved—as if you had just been sentenced to death but escaped through a hidden tunnel leading to everlasting freedom.

"Since I really love Blue Curaçao, I'm sure I'm going to love the Starry Night. I might as well try out different versions of it until I find the one I like most. Thanks a lot for the invitation!"

Seiya, who has been watching your reaction to his brother's words in silence, looks just as relieved as you're feeling. Apparently, he has been anxious about your response, which is understandable, taking into account the unfortunate coincidence that you're a friend of "the detective who has brought down the Organization" and have also been in a less than satisfying relationship with another crow.

"The spare key!" he demands after Taiki-san bids you goodbye. And when your boyfriend of four hours slips the key, which Taiki-san has grudgingly handed him, into your pocket with the words, "I'm not going to accept the roles unless you promise me that you will join me on the set within one or two months", you're walking on air again—floating away on skies of rainbow-coloured clouds and gazing down at all the unease and trepidation Stick has evoked with an indulgent expression on your face. Poor Taiki-san, who is only concerned about his youngest brother's unhealthy infatuation with a complete stranger! You would be just as apprehensive as him if you were in his shoes, especially since said stranger is also in love with the same detective who has declared said brother to be the culprit who has pulled the plug to Kakyuu's life support system…

And yet, when your beautiful stranger and you are walking on foot to your place, gliding through a soft, diffused morning light and sweet fragrance of spring roses which would have inspired Shakespeare to write another sonnet cycle (Seiya said he would like to show you the way from his apartment to yours to steal more time with you before he returned you to Kudo), you are seized by a grim sense of foreboding, which manifests itself in the mounting ache in your stomach and turns into pangs of agony at the sight of Tsukino-san's café on the other side of the street. Here Seiya must have jumped from his monstrous bike, waited in front of the open door, and honked rapidly at Kakyuu, with whom he drove off without a greeting or a backward glance at you—a girl he had already met at Infinity. The scene doesn't make sense to you, as you can clearly imagine how it would have been if Seiya had starred in it: Stranger-san would have entered Tsukino-san's café with a smile and greeted the waiter and the waitress. He would have joined Kakyuu and you at the table, winked at you, and—ignoring all the people around you—pecked his foster sister on her cheek before ordering himself a cup of coffee. Afterwards, he would have studied the stranger who looked oddly familiar. "I think we've met somewhere. Was it at Infinity during the Christmas concert? Your sister has even forced your number on me—imagine that!"

Pure conjectures, idle speculations! Ignoring social conventions, your boyfriend has just grabbed you on the street for a lingering kiss and only stopped when you two arrived at the traffic lights, which have already turned green. Since it's impossible to think rational thoughts when you have to fight your light-headedness like a roaring drunk, you abandon yourself to your sensations—his scent of sweet osmanthus, which fills you with a sense of nostalgia by turning spring into autumn; his warm lips and breath on the back of your hand when he sneaks you random kisses; his hand you're now holding, which feels like a cozy hand warmer in the cool spring morning.

"So you were the seventh crow, weren't you? You said you supported Tenoh-san's group even though you weren't part of it." Even to your own ears, your voice sounds hopeful, almost urgent, as you two are strolling past Tsukino-san's café with your fingers entwined. "Don't worry, I was a codename member myself! I don't mind if you once belonged to the Organization."

While you can't imagine Seiya to be the seventh crow, you almost wish that he was after the palaver his brothers caused. If Seiya was the seventh crow—so you keep telling yourself—he and you would have fought on the same side with the same allies and defeated the same enemy with your combined efforts. You two would have lied to each other about Kakyuu but your deceptions would have cancelled themselves out. Generous as your stranger is, he will forgive you for an accident you didn't want to (and maybe didn't even) cause. Eventually, he and you will be linked by an even stronger bond—by the same tragedy, which has connected your lives like the invisible, indestructible red string of fate. Things would be absolutely perfect if Seiya was the seventh crow…

"No, of course I wasn't," says your new boyfriend and future life partner in genuine surprise. "What are you talking about?" Bewildered, he stops at the picturesque bridge in front of you to look you in the eye. "I thought Taiki has told you everything. Don't tell me he has only played a prank on you when he showed you our terrace!" He smiles, shaking his head at your question. Apparently, he would have been greatly amused by the misunderstanding if he hadn't noticed that you aren't feeling well.

"Cold sweat again!" your stranger observes after touching your forehead, and spontaneously kisses your temple. Hopefully you haven't caught a flu, he remarks while pulling you into a comforting embrace, leaving his arm around your waist while you two continue to stroll across the bridge and he directs your attention to the shimmering turquoise depth of the water below. "In that case, I'd have to play the role of your grandmother and tuck you in tonight—not my favourite part, I can assure you!—but you can choose where we sleep, your place or mine…"

Meanwhile, you recoil in horror from the realization that he isn't lying to you at all—and the truth, which you've feared but not dared to express, is coiling around you like a poisonous, deadly snake. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you recall the things Taiki-san has told you about their family and become aware of the fact that there was something you didn't comprehend—that your seemingly reasonable deduction must be faulty because it was based on a mistaken assumption.

"How old is your bike?" you ask Seiya on impulse, whereupon he marvels at your rapid change of topic. "When did you buy it? I think I've seen you on it before, years ago. It's been nagging at me for hours!"

"As old as the hills," he claims, accompanying his words with a nonchalant wave. "I was searching for a bike back then, and Haruka-san absolutely wanted to get rid of the clunky beast because she preferred the latest Suzuki Hayabusa. Hence I took pity on it and have been using it for the last three or four years. I can't comprehend why Haruka-san dislikes it so much. It's a custom-made, street-legal version of a Dodge Tomahawk for two people and was once featured at many motorcycle shows. Many motorcycle enthusiasts are still trying to buy it from me."

That was the missing puzzle piece you needed—the answer to why a man like Seiya, who doesn't show much interest in any means of transportation, would buy such a flashy, extravagant monstrosity of a motorcycle.

Tenoh Haruka's windswept blonde hair was glimmering in all shades of colours in the Parisian twilight; the blue-clad biker didn't want to enter the café to meet you; Once was more than enough, Tenoh-san said…

Under different circumstances, you would have lingered over the thought that the highest codename members must have proven their loyalty to the Organization, wondering how many sacrifices Tenoh-san must have made, how many treacherous acts she must have committed against her own vigilante group to win Anokata's trust and the position of the seventh crow despite her family background—but right now you couldn't care less about Tenoh-san and your revenge, which has cost you more than you can pay. All you can see is Seiya, who, leaning over the bridge, is beholding the scenery around him with smiling eyes. Greek Gods are known to wait until you've forgotten about them before they claim their right. And when the memory of Monet's House and the blue eyes of the Cupid in your dreams emerge from the back of your mind, it strikes you that the quarrel at Pandora's Box might not have been Athena's real price.

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