Prologue: Missing

*** Please note that the anime's plot in this story only goes as far as just after Bourbon confronts Subaru. I changed it to accommodate that, but because plot keeps updating in the manga/anime, I cannot continue to change my story: I'd never finish it that way. Please enjoy. ***

Update: I fixed some typos.

It was a crisp, cold night: not a cloud in the sky. The stars twinkled happily while the moon cast its pale light on the sleeping streets of Beika Prefecture. All of the houses had their windows darkened for the night save for one. In this lit window, a small shadow quickly paced back and forth.

Kudo Shinichi was pacing in front of Mouri Kogoro's telephone, waiting for something. Of course, anyone who saw this and didn't know any better would see a restless seven-year-old boy who was probably having trouble getting to sleep, and NOT a seventeen-year-old genius trapped in a child's body, who was pacing in worry and frustration. Kogoro, himself, had fallen asleep next to the phone, his energy spent for the day.

"It's already been a week— why haven't we heard from anyone?!" Shinichi growled. He stopped pacing long enough to stare longingly at a picture frame on Kogoro's desk. "Ran… Where are you?"

His childhood friend, Mouri Ran, had mysteriously disappeared the week before. He didn't think too much of it when she didn't come home from school— it was the last day before break, and she could easily have decided to go shopping or hang out with Sonoko. When it started to get late, Shinichi began to worry, but Kogoro insisted she was probably spending the night with one of her friends and just forgot to call. When she didn't come home or call the next day, Shinichi tried to call her. No answer. He called Sonoko to see if she was with her, but Sonoko was surprised to hear Ran didn't come home. Apparently Ran wanted to go home early so she could try a new recipe she picked up. More calls were made, but no one had seen or heard from her after class let out. After the third day, Kogoro had started to accuse "that detective brat" of hiding her in his house, to which, of course, Shinichi angrily denied. "I already called Shinichi-niichan," he'd say, and eventually Kogoro ceased entertaining that idea.

The police couldn't find her, either, and begged Kogoro to stop calling them: they'd call him when she was found. So here the two were, waiting next to the phone late into the night and the early hours of the morning for a call that probably wouldn't come. By about three in the morning, Shinichi started to slow down. How long had he been pacing? He couldn't keep his eyes open, and eventually passed out on the floor next to the phone. As if feeling his exhaustion, the lights flickered and then completely burned out.

"I don't get it, Hakase," Shinichi spouted. "Everything points to kidnapping, but there's been no ransom calls, and no indication at all that she left against her will!" He slammed his hand down on the table in frustration. He had decided to let Kogoro have the phone, and traveled over to his old neighbor, Professor Agasa to vent.

"That won't do, Kudo-kun," said a nonchalant voice from the next room. A little half Japanese girl entered the room, expression as warm as an icecap. "There's no use taking your anger out on Hakase's table. We can't fix your problems any more than you can."

"Haibara…" Shinichi calmed down just a bit as he watched Haibara calmly sipping a cup of tea. He doubted he would ever fully understand what went on in that scientist's mind. "Aren't you worried at all?"

"What good would it do to worry?" she asked. "Worry clouds your mind and interferes with the efficiency of your thoughts; I assumed a master detective would know that." She stated this last bit with a slight mocking tone, but Shinichi dismissed it in favor of resuming his rant.

"What do you think it is, then?" he asked angrily. "If it wasn't kidnapping, then what?"

Haibara set down her cup after a moment of silence. "Perhaps she decided to leave."

"What?! She wou—"

"Think about it for a minute, Kudo-kun: you said so yourself that there were no signs she left against her will." Shinichi gritted his teeth.

"Ran has no reason to leave without so much as a call or a note," he growled angrily. Haibara let out a sigh as she picked her cup back up.

"Perhaps she went looking for you?" she said after taking a long sip of tea. "And perhaps she didn't call because Mouri-san would worry and complain. Or perhaps she was taken by someone who was only interested in the thrill of torture and murder." There was a long silence as Shinichi angrily stared at the shrunken scientist. He knew she was right, but he wouldn't believe that Ran was dead. Sure, there were no news reports, but so what?

"Now, Ai-kun: that's a pretty pessimistic thing to—"

"I'm being realistic. She had no reason to run away, and there haven't been any calls or letters or emails asking for ransom. With these facts, perhaps thinking she's still alive and unharmed is being too optimistic?" Haibara finished her tea and set her cup back down. "Of course, all I have is speculation, but you're no better off." Shinichi angrily stormed out of the room and looked out the window. The sun had already begun to set: had he been there that long? He had informed Kogoro he would be sleeping over at Hakase's, just in case Ran showed up there. The old man reluctantly agreed that it was possible, informing the child that he would not leave the phone.

Three days passed this way, and still there was no word, good or bad.

On the night of the fourth day, Shinichi fell asleep near the window, too exhausted to drag himself into bed. At one in the morning, he was awoken with a start as a car squealed up near the house. There was a loud thud, a car door slam, and the sound of squealing tires fleeing the scene, all before he reached the door. He dashed outside, quickly looking around the street, but the vehicle was long gone. The other two residents of the house were also awoken by the noise, but they were still quite groggily stumbling towards the den. Shinichi didn't wait for them before venturing forth in search of the object responsible for the thud he had heard.

There, thrown against the gate in front of Shinichi's house, a crumpled figure sat, head hung low. As Shinichi got closer, he identified the crumpled mass as a young man, arms tied behind his back. He was unconscious. He cautiously ventured forward until he could almost touch the stranger. Soon, he was standing right in front of the unconscious man. He seemed harmless enough with his hands bound, but that posed a big question. Why were they bound?

"Hey, mister," he said quietly, gently shaking the young man's shoulder, "Are you alright?" There was a groan as the man stirred, but he still had not lifted his head. Shinichi's touch hardened, his voice rose. "Hey, mister—" The man jumped, head snapping up. Shinichi's heart stopped. The man's eyes were wide open, mouth taped shut. He was only seventeen or eighteen years old, but what had made his blood run cold was the young man's face: it was the face of Kudo Shinichi.