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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The bridge is eerily…

The bridge is eerily evocative of the Japanese bridge at Monet's Pond; and stranger-san's eyes are as shockingly blue as the eyes of the phoenix, the mythological bird of resurrection and time. Taking in the disarming smile of your new boyfriend with fresh eyes, it occurs to you that the "defeated" Black Organization has only become more potentially dangerous. Like a dormant undersea volcano which may erupt at any time, the Sherringford Society, led by an Anokata with Seiya's charisma, would easily win the popular vote.

He honestly doesn't intend to conquer the world like his parents did—at least not in a violent way, Seiya claims while you begin to wonder what "honestly", in his dictionary, means. When the Organization went down, he would have loved to ignore the fact that his parents had chosen him as their heir to their estate and their "family business", but it was impossible after his name had been mentioned in his parents' will. Stepping down as ano kata and leaving the Organization to one of the most ambitious and influential codename members was impossible since Three Lights would have been assassinated by the new Boss of the Organization—a necessary move to eliminate the threat of a possible rebellion from the codename members who preferred to be led by Anokata's legitimate heirs. Even before it went down, the Organization had been in a complete shambles for some time thanks to the moles the secret services had planted. Seiya actually considers himself lucky to have survived the first year after the downfall of the Organization, when half of the codename members tried to supplant him as leader.

His hands, slender and graceful, rest languidly on the bridge's balustrade. Deceivingly gentle hands, which evoke images of vintage pens, paint brushes, musical instruments, and beautiful women. Certainly not the hands you would have imagined for someone who has grown up in that person's household, someone who knows how to handle lethal weapons like other people handle chopsticks and silverware.

You remember asking Gin once whether he had aspirations towards becoming the next Anokata, whereupon Gin sneered at the very thought of it. Too dangerous even for his taste, he said. Maybe he would have to accept the responsibility someday if the Boss couldn't find a better successor, but no one in their right mind would voluntarily take over the job, as the life of a crow was stressful enough. Nevertheless, there were idiots who would kill for so much power—and the next Anokata had better be someone who could dispose of their enemies with a charming smile and conquer kingdoms with delicious nonchalance since surviving long enough to earn the members' respect during this time of upheaval was going to be an acrobatic feat.

Being the second crow and having to deal with the pack of wolves, as Gin called the Organization's roque members, had turned Gin into a paranoid misanthrope who would only sleep with a loaded Beretta at hand. Seiya, on the other hand, seems perfectly fine after taking over his parents' "family business"—an observation which should worry you more than it does. On second thought, your stranger bears an uncanny resemblance to a rare wolf with blue eyes and black fur, which reminds you of the cautionary tale of "Little Red Riding Hood" and the lesson you've forgotten: Beware of the nice strangers you encounter on the way! Don't stray from the path! Don't accept tempting offers from complete strangers! Don't ever let attractive strangers who roam the city at night approach you unless you want to be devoured and ruined!

In Grimm's version of the tale, Little Red Riding Hood is rescued by a woodcutter—you tell your wolf—who is amused by your quirky change of topic but follows your train of thought with the same keenness with which Sherlock Holmes pursues the scent of mystery. In Charles Perrault's more realistic version, Red Riding Hood is gobbled up by the gentle, amiable, dangerous wolf, and there is no happy ending.

In a modern tale by Angela Carter, Red Riding Hood handles the situation with aplomb by seducing the werewolf—he tells you with glee—and the two of them sleep soundly in each other's arms (and paws) after Red Riding Hood has won the beast's trust in a savage marriage ritual, which is exactly what he is trying to do since, in his version of the story, he is innocent Red Riding Hood and you're the dangerous red wolf, the alluring, wild, beautiful stranger!

Innocent? You pretended to know nothing about the cocktail code names when we met at Infinity, you pathological liar!

Your anger, delayed by the shock at your latest discovery, has flared up at last. It had been easy to dismiss love as an expendable old-fashioned jacket when you weren't ensnared in it and had only considered it for a fleeting moment—long enough to decide that it would be more troublesome than helpful and short enough not to lose your autonomy to something so capricious and ephemeral. You can well recall your thoughts in Paris when you dropped the Cupid into the pond. Back then, love was linked to Kudo's name, and it was easy to sacrifice something you had never had a taste of to the safe future you had chosen. Never would you have imagined that the wise patron goddess of heroic endeavour would take you by your word—that now, when you're embroiled in the sort of love affair which cost Tenoh-san's mother more than her life and ruined Anna Karenina, Guinevere, Juliet, and Isolde (or whoever those literary heroines who lost their head and their peace over a stranger were), Pallas Athena will descend and claim what you once valued so little.

He didn't know anything about the Organization, Seiya insists, looking the very epitome of innocence and candour. Well, he did know that his parents planned to shrink most of the world's population with the help of a new wonder drug; he knew that they blackmailed powerful people and that they were surrounded by bodyguards, who were armed to the teeth for twenty-four hours a day—but he would never have expected them to name their codename members after wines and cocktails! When Seiya met you and Tomoe at Infinity, he thought that "Gin" was a real name or a nickname, perhaps because "Gin" was a name he knew from novels and screenplays. Even when Tomoe rambled on about "Vermouth" and "Vodka" and "Rum", Seiya believed the cocktail names to be an invention of the mad professor. It took him long to figure out that his parents weren't only wine enthusiasts and borderline alcoholics but also zany eccentrics who would name the members of their vigilante club after alcoholic drinks. How should he have suspected it? His parents didn't tell their children anything about their organization.

"You had a cocktail code name yourself!" you grimly point out.

No, he didn't! When Three Lights returned to Kinmoku Sei to fetch Kakyuu, their parents let slip that they had intended to give all their children "Starry Night" as cocktail codenames after abdicating their responsibility as Anokata since the future Anokata and third-generation crows needed code names as well. Seiya's cocktail was the Starry Night Martini with Stoli Citrus and Blue Curaçao, an allusion to his blue satin band and the lemon twist with which he liked to scent his drinks.

The Blue Curaçao must be an allusion to his eyes—their colour during the moments when his emotions are running high; but like all people who are too immersed in exploring the outside world to gaze at their own image, Seiya is completely oblivious to it.

The last thing he wanted was being tied down by a radical vigilante group for life, your stranger assures you. He would have done almost anything to escape his parents' legacy. But during his time as a teen idol, the information that Three Lights were Anokata's heirs were leaked; and Seiya spent the days toiling like a slave on the set of Detective Boy Holmes (Akane-san should have been jailed for working him to death and blaming all the troubles on the set on him as if he were the embodiment of evil!) and his nights hunting traitors (his parents called them "werewolves") who wanted to have Three Lights' heads. Once the Chicago rebels even kidnapped Yaten—an offence Anokata didn't take well. A journalist wrote that the sight of the bodies gave the investigators of that case nightmares.

"Detective Boy Holmes—that's why you played Young Moriarty!" It's just like him to be so cheeky.

That was a coincidence. Akane-san chose him for the role, and he was so amused by the parallel between his and Moriarty's life that he worked hard to become the ultimate Moriarty—an effort which Akane-san, being the eternally dissatisfied slave driver she was, didn't appreciate.

Different thoughts race through your mind at once, competing with each other like bullet trains on dedicated tracks that run parallel to each other. Tenoh-san didn't trust you enough to tell you the truth… Seiya doesn't call Anokata "the Boss" like Gin did but always refers to them as his "parents"…. Three Lights and Kakyuu must be the four children Tenoh-san mentioned…

But if that was the case—why are Three Lights still alive? And Tenoh-san couldn't seriously have intended to poison Kakyuu, who was already in a coma at that time? There might have been other "children"—after all, Three Lights plus Kakyuu equal one pair of Anokata plus two third-generation crows. Tenoh-san was another third-generation crow, which meant there was space for four future third-generation crows.

In a fit of morbid curiosity, you try to picture Three Lights playing with the "four children" like Kudo and you used to play with the Detective Boys. The images unavoidably trigger other images you would rather not dwell upon. Your headaches have returned, but since the daily dosage of two APAH capsules usually suffices, you haven't taken APAH with you.

Did the seven crows have children?

From the look on his face, you can infer he is fascinated by your seemingly random jumping from topic to topic.

I don't think so.

To all appearances, Three Lights and Kakyuu were indeed the four "children", but Tenoh-san's conscience didn't allow her to poison them as planned. It would explain why Tenoh-san was able to live happily ever after with her family despite her ruthless scheme to murder three of her friends' best friends and a woman who had been in a coma for years.

"So you claim that you didn't know anything about the code names although you've been groomed by that person?"

Seiya looks taken aback by your choice of word. Never has the thought occurred to him that he and his siblings had been "groomed" to become third-generation crows and Anokata's heir.

"They were my parents, Shiho!"

Gin had been adopted by Anokata as well, you inform your boyfriend. One way to secure the loyalty of the highest codename members was to raise them—to familiarize them with the Organization's ways from their early childhood on so that being a crow will seem as natural to them as breathing and eating.

He didn't know about Gin, but he can assure you that Three Lights hadn't been "groomed" by anyone. They all enjoyed a very happy albeit very sheltered childhood on Kinmoku Sei, the isle where their parents had been hiding.

"It also depends on how you define 'sheltered' since I definitely got more freedom than the average Japanese fifteen-year-old would have received in the same situation," he amends. "Still, it was too little for my taste. In retrospect, I really pity my poor parents. They always made an effort to be the best parents to us while we never saw all the things they had done."

"All the things they had done? They had kicked you three out although you could have starved or frozen to death! That's what they had done to you!"

He shoots you an amused sidelong glance as if you were the one who hadn't grasped the situation.

"Ah, they were only angry and drunk when they threw me out, and we three took their insults too personally. After things calmed down they tracked us and begged us to come home, but Yaten and I were too proud to go back and Taiki sort of tagged along."

As much as Seiya's generosity and recuperative abilities impress you, his delusions about his "parents" and his unwavering filial love for them are extremely alarming. In his opinion, "Anokata-mama" and "Anokata-papa", as Three Lights affectionately called the Boss, were great parents who cared for their children well. They might have had a wicked sense of humour and an explosive temper combined with an inclination to manipulate and to mock others, but they were never abusive or neglectful.

You two resume walking—and embracing, for his arm is circling your waist—as if nothing had happened. In stranger-san's opinion, not his family background but his job is the greatest obstacle between you and him—and you two discuss the pros and cons of you visiting him on the set while you two continue your relationship long distance ("Do you really want that?" "No, I don't!" "Why don't you just come with me?") as if the identity of his parents and the existence of their "family business" were of no importance. Anokata-mama and Anokata-papa would certainly have become the stereotyped overbearing in-laws from hell if they were alive, but as things are, you won't have to deal with them at all, Seiya cheerily asserts before he begins to tell you about Kinmoku Sei—the "Kinmoku Star"—the isle of his childhood where sweet osmanthus and wild roses grew in abundance. He had often trained with Kain, their most trusted, most loved bodyguard, whose task was to watch over Kakyuu. Strangely enough, the same bodyguard learned about his malignant brain tumour on the same day on which Seiya's parents learned about theirs.

"Taiki claims our parents had always had a weakness for drama—but I could never comprehend why they burned down the isle when they learned that they were dying. It was their policy to avoid senseless destruction, and they kept strictly to it even when the Organization went through bad times. All the sweet osmanthus trees and shrubs, all the weeping willows they loved so much, their Hope for Humanity roses, even the three dogs they named after us and the servants and bodyguards who had been absolutely loyal..." His voice drops at the remembrance.

Before your inner eye, you can see a version of how things could have transpired—how Tenoh-san, upon leaving the villa where she kept her suffering hosts-turned-prisoners during the last day, was suddenly roused by the faint fragrance of sweet osmanthus in the air. A traumatic experience can sensitize a person to an image, a sound, or a scent. "Charade", a song of love and farewell to you, is to Tenoh-san a portent of death; and what smells like paradise to Seiya and his brothers and you will remind Tenoh-san of hell. She had put up with it for so many years without giving herself away—but she no longer possessed the motivation and the ability to control herself after her time as Anokata's seventh crow had passed. Although it was the end of December, the most resilient kinmokusei shrubs still sported a smattering of dying blooms—reddish-golden, at night turquoise shimmering gems carrying the warm, sweet scent of autumn…

You shiver, and Seiya rubs your arm, offering you his jacket, which you decline.

He loved their old nanny as well, your stranger tells you, although she was a scarily devoted Christian and always read her protégés Andersen's fairy tales with a wagging finger—sappy, dark tales with disastrous endings which have never, ever, made sense to him, you see, as he isn't a fan of Andersen's puritanical Christian sentiments and the preposterous idea of sin. The girl with the red shoes is punished for her vanity and her love of dance; the mermaid in Andersen's semi-autobiographical tale had to suffer because of her (or rather his) homosexuality (Seiya would never have guessed the meaning of the mermaid's missing human hips and legs and thus couldn't make sense of the inexpressible love the mermaid had to endure until Taiki explained the background of the tale to him). It would have made sense if Andersen had tried to criticize the society he had to live in, but in many of Andersen's tales, people voluntarily give up their goals and sacrifice their happiness in exchange for an eternal soul—whatever that was supposed to mean. It has always amused Seiya why so many religions—and not only religions—punish people for the things they love as if all the world's spiritual and political leaders were terrified of happiness and freedom and the inevitable problems which come with it. The only Andersen tale Seiya really likes is "The Princess on the Pea", the story in which Andersen pokes fun at the ridiculous demands of high society…

Meanwhile, you two have reached the flower shop where Kakyuu bought her bouquet of roses. And there, right in front of you, is the corner where you had been waiting with Gin in Gin's Porsche, watching the entrance of the inconspicuous flower shop with the quirky name "An & Ail's Intergalactic Speaking Flowers".

What are we doing here? Are you going to buy me a flower?

"Do you want me to get you a flower?" Your new boyfriend asks without letting go of your waist. "Which one do you like most?" His gaze flickers over the colourful conglomeration of flowers in the window display before it returns to you and lazily, thoughtfully travels from your lavender dress down to your mauve sandals.

"I don't know. They're all gorgeous! I'm not in the mood for red, though. What about getting me something in blue?"

Something in blue to match your Study in Blue. Nothing like the red roses on Gin's bedside table or the red camellias Kudo once gave you before you went to Tenoh-san's place to ask her for her assistance. The scarlet rose beside Kakyuu's crushed body, the cyclamen in Kakyuu's sketchbook. Kakyuu's hair, which was of a more intense, more vivid red than yours… Red flowers have begun to remind you more of destruction and death than of love and passion.

"Anything you want, Milady!" He gives a theatrical bow, waving an imaginary hat in his free hand—the sort of bow which male ballet dancers and actors give during the curtain call. "Just say the word!"

"If you can give me a blue rose, I'll marry you!"

It was an impulsive, sad attempt at a joke, demanding the impossible wedding present as if you were the princess in the fairy tale while you resemble an ogre more, Milady! Indeed, your story is unlikely to end tragically and romantically, with the star-crossed lovers united in death like Tristan and Isolde's or Romeo and Juliet's. This will be a nightmarish tragedy ruled by fate, ending like Anna Karenina's or even Milady's story if you allow it to continue.

He laughs, accepting your challenge with the unbridled enthusiasm and energy of a master detective who has been out of work for too long.

All right, I'll give you the bluest rose I can find! In return, you'll have to do the paperwork and plan our wedding as soon as you arrive home!

Before he leaves, he gingerly cups your face and brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, gently, soothingly, as he can sense your mounting anxiety. Don't run away, he adds, half-jokingly, with a tinge of panic, before he kisses you on your lips. I've just found the perfect flower for you. Please stay here and wait for me, I'll be back in a sec!

Don't run away from your destiny!

In a fairy tale, your stranger would be his ghost in disguise, hiding the same brilliant, pure soul in a more colourful, whimsical shell. You're on Pandora's Box again, waiting for the countdown to come, dithering over whether or not to accept the love declaration of an infatuated, innocent boyfriend who hasn't got a clue about what you have done.

"What in Iris' name!" the brunette saleswoman squeaks before she coos in a low, deep voice, "Seiya-sama, am I dreaming? You haven't visited us since forever!"

A blue rose? Why, his princess (But where is the mystery woman, and why doesn't she come in?) must be hard to please (Couldn't Seiya-sama have waited for another five years until Chibi Chibi has grown up before he gets himself a girlfriend? This development will break the poor girl's heart!), but Annabelle has blue roses by the score although most of them are dyed, alas…

No, he doesn't want a dyed blue rose but that rose in the corner—the bluest rose without a dye. It's in the same colour as her dress. He also wants it because of its name, but hush, please don't say it out loud since he wants it to be a secret and she can overhear everything.

She is a lucky woman!

She is a dream—too beautiful to be true! He will die upon waking up, he is sure!

They laugh, and he tells Annabelle there is no need to wrap the rose in Cellophane.

Outside, the light has changed. And without the rosy, lavender glow of sunrise, of which only the violet streaks over the building tops remain, the spell of your fairytale romance is breaking.

Perhaps your answer to Taiki-san's question was wrong. Even if your moon was really blue and only appeared red due to its unfortunate position between the sun and the earth, it wouldn't ever be enough for either the observer or the artist. Only the colour of the moon in front of the background it is set against will make any difference on the painting.

For a few hours, it had been a wonderful illusion, a magic trick which brightened your humdrum existence. But now that your ideal lover has turned out to be the price you have to pay and resembles the seductive siren who will lure you to destruction by dragging your corpse down to the bottom of the sea more than the guardian angel who will show you a world of freedom and peace, it's time to quit.

You regret not having a contingency plan for this situation, when a simple "Sorry, I've changed my mind" won't cut it. Pretending that you're not in love with him will be harder than winning a poker tournament in Las Vegas when your whole being is convinced that it has finally found its missing part, without which it can never feel complete again.

Like in a game of poker, success or failure in life is often determined by sheer luck and the will to succeed. Why should you accept fate's punishment when you've suffered enough to expiate your crimes? Your suffering won't contribute to anyone's happiness. This time, you will be unscrupulous enough to lie with a smile on your lips. He doesn't need to know anything—you have to protect his happiness!—and you two can be happy together regardless of all the things you had done.

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