File One Hundred and Thirteen: Crazy Diamonds

"Hey, is dinner not ready yet?!"

If there was something Conan automatically knew by first glance was that Wakamatsu Ikurou, the victim's son, was a rude, spoiled little brat in the body of a twenty-five-year-old. Really, it did not take a detective to see that ─ just by standing there, watching him yell at his mother like that, anyone with half a working brain cell could tell that much.

"I'm starving to death here, so how long do I still have to wait until dinner?!"

He sounded like a pain to deal with, decided the boy, watching as he stomped out of the room, hopefully out of the room. Well, just like someone I know, he thought, stealing a look at Hattori, who seemed to remain completely unaware of it. I thought he had come to Tokyo to check on Oniichan, but it turned out the reason was a case, after all…

Though, this time, Conan could barely judge him for it. Because this one in particular appeared to be quite the promising case. It was not an everyday occurrence that one received a letter from a dead person, after all.

The unlucky man had been an acquaintance of Hattori's mother named Wakamatsu Kouhei ─ a company president of a design company in Tokyo. A month ago, a party for his wife's birthday had ended with him murdered at his villa in Karuizawa.

Ten days later, a letter had been issued to Hattori Heiji, the name clearly stated to be the victim's. Upon opening it, however, the detective had been met with an entirely different story altogether:

"Dear Hattori Heiji-sama.

I would sincerely wish to meet with a high school detective such as yourself and confess to the crime I committed.

However, I have doubts whether you would be able to properly see me when we do meet. After all, my distorted existence is something thoughtlessly conjured up by you humans. To see me directly is a dream that cannot be realized.

Should you insist to meet me, then on the next night of the full moon, I shall be waiting in the home of the man I murdered."

Enclosed in the weird letter came the key to that house. That being said, Hattori had not had the chance to use it, as he had caught a terrible cold. Despite what Conan would have expected, Kazuha had taken it without him knowing and gone in with a few friends, as an improvised test of courage.

In the bathroom, she had found a long-haired man, leaning against the wall. Lights had gone out, and by the time they went back up, he had vanished, leaving an innocuous piece of paper in its place.

"What disappeared was but my body, not so for the letters."

That was because Kazuha had seen them ─ carved on the tiles near the man's head, the English word 'EYE'. Kogoro had suggested the culprit had just switched the tiles with some that weren't scratched, but the girl swore that was just not possible, as their color got gradually lighter from the top of the wall to the bottom, so that she would have noticed if they did.

"But here's the real issue at hand," Hattori had declared, a broad, almost childlike, smile stretching from side to side all over his face. "The crime scene where Wakamatsu-san was stabbed to death in Karuizawa was a bathroom with the same kind of tiles."

There should've been a dying message, too, written in blood, recalled Conan. But disappeared when the police came. Not even Luminol reacted to it.

Certainly Hattori had his attention now ─ Conan was curious about how come that happened, like any self-respecting detective would. Such had been the case, unfortunately, with the female sleuth that was tagging along, hearing every single thing to the smallest detail.

The boy hadn't been able to keep himself from cringing when she asked to come along.

Now, Conan supposed he had underestimated Hattori's perception skills, seeing that he had smiled apologetically at Sera, claiming that only five of them had been invited, meaning that, no, she couldn't come with them. At first, the kid had believed it was just that Hattori didn't like her either, but was soon convinced otherwise, when he caught the western detective glancing over in his direction, and wink.

The sound of the door opening right behind him brought him back to the present, enough to see two men standing at the doorway, their expressions being a telltale of the surprise coming from seeing so many people there. Soon they were introduced to them as Shiina Masashige ─ Senior Managing Director, the one with the baumkuchen, the deceased director's favorite, between hands ─ and Fujinami Sumio ─ Chief Designer, also the guy who had stolen a little piece of cake as a harmless, but dumb according to the child, joke.

"Hey, Satake-san!" called the wife. "Are you around?"

From a room further inside the house, a head peeked out, so quickly after being called that Conan found it impressive. A young woman with glasses and an overall orderly appearance walked out expectantly.

"Ikurou-san was hungry and in a sour mood," Serika said. "I imagine he shall calm himself if he eats some baumkuchen, so would you serve them some black tea?"

Satake Yoshimi, who would later turn out to be the secretary, adjusted her glasses and walked away as she was told.

The son is a jerk, decided Conan, eyelids drooping ever so slightly with a muted sigh. Using the excuse of being 'hungry' to treat everyone like that…

Wouldn't be surprised if he winds up murdered at some point…

On second thought, I probably shouldn't jinx it.

Because, yeah, with Hattori and himself in there, that was ridiculously likely to happen. At least, Oniichan isn't here. So he was hoping the effect was not as strong as it would be otherwise.

Too bad he couldn't come. He appeared quite engrossed in this mystery when Hattori told us everything.

Yet, the lack of actual protest or evident disappointment he had displayed was not as shocking as it could have been, had Conan lacked a context here. It had been brief, and probably would've missed it completely hadn't he been sitting directly in front of him, but over their ridiculously late lunch earlier today, Shinichi had taken off his phone. Whatever had popped up on his screen had changed his demeanor altogether, a serious glint taking over his gaze suddenly.

It had been fixed by a gracious kick on the knee. Raising his head, Shinichi had spotted Conan who, rather than looking at him, was glancing over to Sera. She had seemed to notice none of that, since she was discussing the recently solved case with Hattori, yet it was enough. He immediately had schooled back his expression to a friendly smile, and the kid had returned to sip on his water, like nothing had happened.

It wasn't long after Sera had reluctantly left that Shinichi claimed he had stuff to do and stepped out of Kogoro's office. By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs, he had heard a door bursting open and, sure enough, found his little brother rushing to catch up with him, going over two steps at a time.

"So, there's this guy…" Once asked about it, Shinichi had tried to explain to the best of his capabilities. "How do I put this? You know this 'Watanabe Satoshi' person? I think you were looking him up on the internet. I remember I spotted his name on your phone last November when-"

"Ah, you mean the current principal of Teitan High School?" Shinichi's mouth had clicked shut at that, earning him a confident smile from the little child. "Yeah, I've met him before, and I know he used to work at Ekoda Hospital as a doctor. You faked his death in a fire, so now he's pretending to be an old guy."

It had taken him a moment before he deflated, sighing out of pure exhaustion. "Don't know why I'm still getting surprised at this point…"

Conan hadn't even bated an eye. "What about him?"

"I don't know." This time, the kid reacted, if only to raise an eyebrow at such a response. "He wants to meet me. Said it was important."

He didn't know what kind of expression he had made, but he figured he had let it show, because a hand had fallen on top of his head. "What's with that face?" Shinichi had said, breaking into a broad, reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, so don't worry."

In response, the boy had whipped his head to the side, muttering under his breath something like, "Why does the 'don't worry' part worry me even more?"

"Relax, I'm just going to talk with him this time around." Conan had given him a pointed look at the words 'this time around', so he had laughed again, albeit a little nervously. "I'll call you when I'm finished there, okay?"

He'd better, Conan thought, free to shake his head in the privacy of his own mind. I swear, if I find out that idiot somehow brought more attention to himself…

Frankly, he didn't know what. But he would do something.

Which, unfortunately, would have to wait for the time being, it appeared. The secretary had placed a steaming cup in front of him, so he had to push all those thoughts away to nod politely, adding a thankful smile for good measure.

With a warm cup now between his own two hands, the child took the opportunity to scan the living room he currently sat in, or rather, to the people he was sharing it with. Everyone that was present at the scene of the crime in Karuizawa is here. Or so the wife had told them before. Except for the housekeeper.

Meaning, the criminal had to be one of them.

Before long, Kogoro decided to break the silence. "So, who was the primary discoverer of the body?" he asked, and Conan had to admit he was a little impressed.

Hey, would you look at that, thought Conan, sarcastically. Asking the right questions for once.

Way to go, Occhan.

The force of the door slamming resounded through the room, leaving Conan fumbling to keep the tea from spilling, a logical consequence of the harsh flinch his body suffered.

"It was me!" he heard the housekeeper exclaim, brazenly rushing inside with no regard for the little boy wheezing, his free hand to his wildly beating heart. "I went to the bathroom, thinking I could assist the Master, but found him on the ground, covered in blood!"

I get that, but would it have killed you to open the door like any other person, then stated it, calmly?

Once he was more or less recovered, the child sent her a glare that went completely unnoticed, obviously.

A child could've gotten hurt!

That child being Conan himself, obviously.

"Well? What was written there?" Heiji inquired. "If you saw it before it vanished, you must remember it, right?"

Really. What would she have done if I burned myself or something-?

"Yes, if I recall correctly, it was the alphabet-"

Everything was silenced by a deafening crash.

Conan jerked back to reality right away, astonished to see that the cup wasn't in his hands anymore, but shattered into pieces at his feet. His reaction was instant, hopping off his seat. "I'm sorry!" he said, crouching right next to the mess he had made, grimacing all the way down. "It slipped…"

"Ah!" the housekeeper flinched, probably after snapping back to her senses, rushing towards him. "I'll clean it right away!"

He heard Ikurou scowling from behind, mumbling something like, "Annoying brat," under his breath. As much as Conan would be eager to point out that the feeling was mutual, the kid could not bring himself to care about it.

It had not been a conscious action but, just now, his breathing had hitched before he could fully process what was happening. All because of that one word, that his brain seemed adamant on replaying endlessly, to the point that it was powerless to react to any external stimuli any longer ─ even such banal action as keeping a reasonable grip on a ceramic cup.

Alphabet.

"It's okay." The gentle voice came along with some movement, which he registered from the corner of his eye. "I'll do it."

A figure crouched right at his side. "I'll bring something to clean this up!" It wasn't the person beside him, that much he knew for sure, but it made her smile either way.

"Thanks, Kazuha-chan!"

"Eh?" That was the housekeeper. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's not a problem!" It was Ran ─ Conan hated how long it took him to figure it out. "Go ahead and cut the baumkuchen, please."

He could kind of understand why Ran would offer such a thing, especially since he could sense Ikurou fuming from somewhere behind him ─ better give him his cake and forget about him, he guessed. It was only reasonable, thinking about it that way.

What wasn't as rational was the reaction such a harmless word had triggered, and knew that depriving himself of oxygen for so long was not a splendid idea either. Thus, he tried to breathe in, as quivering as it sounded despite the shrill ringing of his ears, and soon enough, the chill of fresh air tickled his nostrils, coursing all over his veins like a strong, yet icy current that froze solid everything in its path.

Yet, curiously enough, that was far from the most unsettling fact.

Her hand crossed his line of vision, carefully plucking the broken pieces off the ground. "Conan-kun?" Ran's soft tone reached his ears, even though she wasn't looking at him. "Is everything okay?"

Conan tried to speak. He really did, but for a scary moment there, his voice didn't seem to want to come out. Ran obviously noticed that, tearing her eyes away from the broken cup to look at him, concern clearly visible in her gaze.

As the rest fell back on a pleasant talk, oblivious to what happened between them both, the girl leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

"Is it them?"

He finally got his body to move, shaking his head from side to side. "I can't feel them like Ai-san does," he replied, cracking what should have been a reassuring grin, but turned out as a horribly tense grimace.

Which, naturally, did not convince Ran. "Then what is it?"

The Conan reflected on the tea puddle, collecting all over the floor, stared back at him, gaze squinting, as if they could see more than what mortal eyes could see. But, Conan knew, they could not see a single thing.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, in a fragile murmur.

It was this uncertainty, being in the dark about what had made this dreadful feeling to surface, which frightened the little boy the most.

Ran's gaze hadn't left yet, and the child was sure it wouldn't, not for a long time either. But just as she seemed like she wanted to talk, her head shot up, and a friendly smile took over her face. "Kazuha-chan," she called. "Sorry for troubling you."

"No worries, but…" When Conan looked up, it was to the sight of Kazuha glancing worriedly back at him. "Is Conan-kun hurt?" He shook his head immediately, prompting her smile to surface. "That's a relief!"

"I'll take care of it, Conan-kun," said Ran. "You can go back to your seat."

Any other day, he would've probably protested, but seeing that Ran wouldn't budge, he just nodded his head and sat down. Kazuha also offered her friend help, which he denied, and with reason, too. It had barely taken the girl a minute before everything was in order again and she was back in her seat, right beside the quiet little kid.

He noted her hand was resting on his shoulder, pulling him a little closer to herself, yet did not mind. It wasn't uncomfortable.

Conversely, Hattori's intense gaze on his being definitely was.

He decided against looking at him instead, stubbornly focusing on the tray the housekeeper, alongside the secretary, was placing over the table. Five pieces of baumkuchen, observed Conan. Judging by the fan-like shape and their dimension, compared to the original cake, the boy estimated a total of eight equal pieces. A glance towards the table in the corner, where they had been cutting the cake, confirmed his theory, as there were two pieces left waiting to be served.

"I'll bring another cup right away, little boy," said the housekeeper.

Conan jumped in surprise, and before long, he realized she was talking to him. A timid nod made her smile, and go back to her own work.

He watched her for a while before sighing. Maybe I'm just tired, he tried to convince himself. It's of no use to ponder over it any longer. I doubt it'll make any sense, anyway.

So frustrating…

Smiling warmly, Ran passed him a piece of cake.

Let's just focus on eating cake, he resolved with a deep, calmer breath. Yeah, that sounds good.

"Hold on," the housekeeper uttered. "Please don't eat it before it's properly dished up…"

"Idiot, eating it this way tastes better-"

Just as it was about to reach for his own piece of baumkuchen, Conan's hand froze. There was this unmistakable sound of choking, then a loud thud, that had his eyes slipping closed, together with a lengthy sigh escaping his lips.

And only when the screams followed did he put his cake back on the table.

By that time, Hattori was already kneeling down over the man, a focused frown visible on his face, so he naturally followed his lead. He stood right beside him, watching as the teenager pressed a finger against the victim's neck, and dropped his head lightly ─ it only took a glance of those eyes that remained fixated on the ceiling, where that glint of horror and panic all the same remained, even though it was clear that his soul had already slipped away.

"No pulse?" asked the boy in a whisper, even though he already knew the answer.

Predictably, Hattori's head shook, solemnly. "Seems like some sort of cyanide."

As the noise started to surface again, in the form of a collective, startled gasp, the child looked away from the body and to the table where the baumkuchen had first been set. Cyanide, he thought, standing on the tip of his feet, peering over it to confirm that there was a single piece there. There had been two there, waiting to be dished out like the rest, so it didn't take a detective to conclude that the victim must have taken the other one.

"It could've been in the baumkuchen," he said, then added, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the group. "Don't eat the one that was just passed out!"

Not that he actually believed the murderer would've risked lacing the entire cake with poison. Neither did he think there was someone who would have the nerve to leisurely go on eating cake when someone kicked the bucket in front of them ─ except for, well, the dead guy. He certainly could see him doing that, but, glancing down at him now, he had the distinct feeling that it didn't matter anymore.

Heiji turned to his childhood friend. "Kazuha," he said, firmly. "Make a call!"

Kazuha frowned. "To the police?"

The western detective nodded.

"Yeah. Tell 'em there's a freaking moron here who had the gall to kill someone in front of a detective!"

And the small one rolled his eyes. He could actually full-heartedly agree with that sentence.

Swinging his school bag over his shoulder, the teenager held his head high, fighting off the overwhelming nostalgia that filled him whole just by strolling like this, serenely enjoying his familiar surroundings. His free hand slid inside his pocket, and a faint smile slid to his face, resting on his lips as their owner struggled to remember the last time he had done such a harmless, mundane thing.

Comfortably in his old high school uniform, Kudo Shinichi ventured his way inside Teitan High School's installations.

I think it was around last November, Shinichi mentally mused. Yeah, it has to be around that time. Since I showed up at the Cultural Festival.

Even though so many months had passed ever since then, Shinichi could remember it as it had been yesterday. The panic that had almost swallowed him whole when Ran called him, telling him that his little brother had been shot in the stomach, or how much his chest hurt when he had visited him, late into the night and after Conan's surgery, plagued with nightmares, uttering his name in that fearful, small voice that, truly, it had hit him badly.

He had seen Ran, too, the following day on the verge of crying while looking at the phone ─ because of him, and he absolutely despised it.

Being there to witness how badly they were suffering for his sake, Shinichi hadn't been able to leave. For them, he had stayed, as long as he could before he had to irremediably leave.

No. That's not it. Not all of it, anyway.

There was something more…

"Watch out!"

The yell had barely reached his brain when his eyes caught with a ball, rapidly approaching where he stood. With virtually no time to think, his instincts took over and, before he knew what he was doing, a powerful kick returned it where it came from. Next, he looked over the school's soccer field on the other side of the fence, just in time to see a teenager.

Shinichi paused to look at him ─ blonde, a larger build than his, and a permanent grin on his face. He watched him run to the ball, allowing it to bounce once on the ground, then on his chest.

"Sorry about that!" Now, with the ball under control, the teenager scratched the back of his head, laughing all the while. "I kicked it a little too hard."

Shinichi nodded quietly. "No harm done," he muttered.

It earned him an even bigger smile, which the sleuth could not help but copy, if in smaller proportions.

"Nakamichi, what are you doing?!" The calls from this teenager's classmates drew him away from their short-lived conversation. "Hurry up!"

"Coming, coming!"

Uttering one last muttered apology, Nakamichi waved at him. Shinichi's hand raised as well, imitating the gesture, but failed to drop back down, even after the soccer player had turned back around, running to join his team so as not to irritate them any further. Aizawa, for example, seemed to be particularly annoyed but, before long, Shinichi watched him ease up as Nakamichi spoke to him, a carefree laugh reaching the detective's ears even from this far away.

Eventually, Aizawa cracked a smile, and promptly stole the ball from his teammate's grasp.

Shinichi's feet had taken him closer to the fence, his fingers tangling gently against it. In silence he watched that group of high schoolers running across the field moved by nothing but the unshielding passion and love for a sport ─ not caring, in the slightest, about the dark side of the world they lived in.

He should have been one of them, grinning in pure glee as he darted past his adversaries. Laughing among his teammates as he scored another goal. Being one of them.

But he had seen that same darkness they remained blissfully oblivious to. He had dived into it, and had almost been swallowed by it. And he would do it again, and again, if it meant keeping those he loved safe.

That being said, a part of him could not help but long for what he had lost. It couldn't stop wondering, what if?

His hand reluctantly let go of the fence, but the other still held on that school bag. It was lighter, much lighter than it should have been, and no wonder it was, since it was completely empty. There was no point in carrying anything. He knew that well. It was all part of a pretense.

And because of that, even if he were to look at himself right now, he wasn't sure he would be capable of recognizing himself. A face that was not his would stare back at him, one that he had artificially created thanks to the teachings of his actress mother. He would find that of a generic, nondescript high school student, making his way to the school library to spend a few good hours on his summer homework.

Someone that wasn't him.

Turning his face away, Shinichi's eyes slipped closed.

"Maybe that was why, too," he muttered, faint enough for only the wind to hear.

And then he walked away.

"Eh? 'That one-eyed police detective,' you say?" Conan turned to look at Hattori, surprised about what his ears had just heard. "You mean that Inspector Yamato Kansuke you once told me about?"

"Yeah, why not?" answered the detective. "Karuizawa is in Nagano Prefecture, which is his jurisdiction, so he should be there."

The child put a finger to his chin, humming as he pondered over it. "You know," he said. "That's a surprisingly good idea."

"Right?" Hattori grinned from ear to ear.

"That's what I would say if it was possible." It dropped right away, not failing to notice the bored gaze that landed on him. "You realize you need a number to call him."

Hattori blinked twice at the child, so blankly that nearly had the child facepalming.

"I do know Yui-san's, who's in close terms with him!" The only reason he didn't succeed in doing so was probably Kazuha, who had chimed in, grinning widely. "We might be able to ask about the case, since she got reinstated as a police detective."

Ah, I think I saw a detective like that around that guy, thought Conan, taking a moment to reminisce about the time she saw her, and the one-eyed inspector at Beika's Mall, the day before Tanabata. So it must be her, right? They seemed to be quite close…

Hattori's eyebrows rose. "But why do ya even have her number?" That was actually something Conan wanted to know, too.

"I pressed her to tell me afterwards! That day, when the case was resolved, it looked like Yui-san had confessed to Inspector Yamato," she told him. "So I wanted to know what happened afterwards! Since it's practically impossible that there'd be no progress after she confessed!"

Like struck by a jolt of electricity, Ran's neck craned over in her friend's direction. Conan watched it all, how her eyes began to widen, gradually as realization settled in, and as that bright red glow started to crawl up her face. He waited for a little, hoping to see if she would speak a word about it.

Nothing ever really came, so he stepped up instead.

"You'd be surprised, Kazuha-neechan." Her bewildered eyes darted to him when he said that. "You see-"

Silenced by his own yelp, Conan felt his feet leaving the ground ─ why did he have the feeling it was becoming a common occurrence? ─ and heard Ran's awkward laugh from close. "Well, anyway…" There was this unnatural edge in her voice, too, that had Conan going deadly still in her arms. "I'll be borrowing Conan-kun for a second, Hattori-kun."

Both Kazuha and Hattori blinked, confusingly. Neither had the chance to ask, however, as the girl had taken off running, disappearing from immediate sight with not as much of another explanation. Before long, Hattori shrugged, an eyebrow raised toward his childhood friend who, albeit slowly, understood what he meant, and gathered her phone.

Pressing her back against the wall, Ran peered from around the corner. Kazuha had her phone to her ear, and Hattori was too focused on her to think any further about it ─ a relieved sigh escaped her.

"Um? Ran-neechan?" She jumped, startled by the young voice. "Think you could let me go?"

"Ah, sorry."

Immediately, she lowered him to the ground, where he was now free to stare, half-lidded eyes stuck on her. He did so for a while, like he was thoroughly searching for answers through her entire soul, but that every single one he found only disappointed him even more.

Finally, he sighed, arms crossed behind his neck. "Seriously, how do you guys do it?" he said, under his breath. "After London, one would've believed you would be an official couple by now…"

Ran did not answer, yet he knew for a fact that his words had been heard, judging by how her cheeks were burning. Conan sighed, hands firmly pressed to either side of his waist. The kid's gaze became dramatically more stern.

"Even if we put Kazuha-neechan and Hattori in your place, I'm sure we'd be able to see some improvements by now." It was a surreal feeling, thought Ran ─ it was almost as if she was being scolded by a tiny third grader. "And that's saying a lot, you know."

"I don't think-"

She stopped herself, probably realizing that, yeah, that was quite bad, actually. The boy stood there, scrutinizing her for another entire second.

"Maybe you should be a little more direct, or he just won't get it," he said, shaking his head with a shrug as he walked around her, presumably to go back to Kazuha and Heiji. "My idiot brother is as dense as a brick when it comes down to these things."

Then, he paused, turned to look at him, and, smiling, tried, "So, uh, do your best?"

And left before the need to elaborate increased any further. Because, really, what else could he say? Those two had been beating around the bushes for as long as the little boy could remember, and once they had the opportunity to make some progress, this happened. It's infuriating, he decided, fighting the urge to smack his own forehead out of frustration.

At this rate, I will get married before they utter a word to each other-

He stopped short. If I ever get married, anyway… He thought, shrugging to himself. It's so far away, as it is…

Hattori was still talking over the phone ─ Hattori? He slowly realized that it had been Kazuha at first, but as it was, he did not feel as if it was any relevant at the moment ─ so he thought he hadn't missed on anything that he couldn't ask about later. So, he leaned against the wall, waiting patiently for him to finish.

Marriage, huh? His mind was drifting away from the teenager. I guess that's not something I should worry about at the moment.

Nothing he had particularly thought about, anyway. Unlike his friends who he had caught before daydreaming about the future several times before ─ a harmless fantasy, he thought, even though it wasn't so much for him, considering that Ayumi would openly admit he, Conan, was the one she pictured as a husband. Mitsuhiko and Genta never hid how little they were pleased with that thought ─ and somehow, they always found a way to blame him for that. Seriously, how?

A faint buzzing in his pocket had him quickly taking it out.

But then saw the notification, and realized it was just a message in that group chat his friends had been so insistent on making, Conan groaned, almost annoyed even if he had yet to see the message.

I really thought it was him. Should it be taking him this long, anyway?

Deciding he could deal with whatever they wanted later, the boy was about to put the phone away. But paused.

Come to think of it, in that regard, there's someone like me. Conan's eyes slid close, pondering over it for a moment. That certain evil-eyed scientist… Has she ever thought about such a thing?

Not that I care, obviously, but…

A bright teal gaze flashed on his mind.

"What're ya blushing about?"

Purely out of instinct, Conan tried to jump back, spooked out of his mind, yet, given that he was already leaning against the wall, he wasn't all that successful.

"Oh." His eyes darted to the teenager's face, yet they never connected with his. That was because his entire attention was on his screen instead. "I see."

The boy pulled it back, away from Hattori's sight and asked with what should've been a firm, serious tone, "You see what?" but definitely wasn't. Right now, the warmth on his cheeks was uncomfortably noticeable.

"That ya got a text from the girl you like."

Again, the look he gave him should have been an indifferent one, but it made Hattori's grin widen. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, looking away.

"What? Was I supposed not to know?" he said, and Conan glared. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Why are you pestering me, anyway?" the boy shot back, eyebrows raising. "Instead of Detective Yui, I mean."

"I already hung up," he replied. "She's just arrived at the villa, so we might hear from her soon enough."

Which meant that they had no clues to follow as for yet. He didn't try to hide his disappointment, openly sighing while settling his attention at the closed door of the office in front of them, where all suspects were gathered, waiting for the police to tell them what to do next.

There was nothing they could do but wait patiently for a clue to drop on them by some sort of miracle ─ he decided he didn't like that. As it was, there was nothing he could do.

Fine, he mentally groaned, turning to his phone again. Let's see what these guys want…

The only message was from Ai, noted the boy right away ─ he could already feel a headache coming.

"We are going out camping tomorrow morning."

Conan stared at the screen for a whole second before typing out a response.

"Cool. Have fun."

"Don't be like that!" Ayumi's message popped into view right away. "You're coming too!"

"Am I?"

This time, Genta replied instead. "You have something better to do?"

"Does locking myself up in my room so I don't run into a murder count?"

Last came Mitsuhiko. "You ran into another murder case."

It was slightly irritating that it had not come out as a question, but as a statement instead. Though he supposed it was a natural response. To be fair, I might have been asking for it this time around. Since he did come to investigate a murder case.

But not two! And here he was, hoping that it didn't become three by the end of the day. Somehow. Relax, he told himself. There's nothing to say there's going to be another death, now is it?

He was a horrible liar. Even if it was to himself, decided Conan, pressing his palm against his face, with a low, guttural growl that had Hattori staring.

The sound of knocking reached his ears, so he moved it away, just in time to see Megure opening the door to the office, standing close to Takagi, who was rushedly talking to him about things he didn't either hear or find relevant enough to care about. All suspects stepped into the hallway, and started on their way to what Conan assumed to be the living room, in order to re-enact what had happened hours prior.

Wait, there's one missing. Curiously, the boy peered inside the office, just to find the certain person he hadn't been able to find. What's the wife doing in there?

But before he could observe any further, Megure closed the door, blocking her from sight.

It was kind of weird, but if the police allowed her to stay out, she probably had a good reason. Come to think of it, she was nowhere close to the poisoned baumkuchen, so maybe that's why they didn't feel the need to have her in there, supposed Conan. Well, her stepson did just pass away, so I guess it's fair.

They didn't seem to get along all that well, though…

His phone continued to buzz non-stop. I shouldn't have told them about the case, he lamented, opening his messaging app to realize that, indeed, his friends were impatiently asking about it ─ except Ai, undoubtedly, who was likely reading it all in silence for her own amusement.

"I'll tell you guys the details tomorrow," he typed, hoping that it would get them to stop, at least for a single second. "If you can't wait patiently until then, I'll have to block you all."

If they had any sort of complaints about it, Conan wouldn't be around to see it, because he stuffed it back inside his pocket. I'm for a long talk tomorrow, aren't I? Still deep in thought, Conan started to walk, trailing down behind the group alongside Hattori. And I've got the feeling it won't be just about those couple of murder cases I ran across since the beginning of the summer…

He had been wondering, for quite a while, when they were going to ask about that certain organization again. Since it had struck him recently that he couldn't remember the last time he told them about anything related to them.

I used to do it all the time. Telling them about every single thing about them. His gaze fixated on his feet. In fact, they were the first people I ever told about the Organization, weren't they?

Now, he barely did it anymore. Sure, they knew the basics, but not every single detail. Should I tell them? They had been with me since the beginning, so maybe-

But then, that certain chill racked his body, and had him mentally shaking his head.

"Hey, kid." Hattori's voice broke him off his mental dilemma. "You good?"

Maybe it hadn't been as mentally as he had intended it to be. "Yeah," he chirped. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Right," said the teen, head moving to the front. "Because it's so normal to freak out at the mention of a random word."

"You mean the teacup I dropped?" he said, with a small laugh. "I told you. My hands slipped."

Hattori sent him a look. "Why did you look so pale when I asked Yonehara-san about it again?"

He really had no answer to give him.

It hadn't been long after the murder that Hattori had again about the dying message she had seen in Karuizawa, since she had been interrupted before she could utter any further word. Conan had braced himself, fearing that this mysterious, unsettling feeling would surface again ─ all but expecting, at the same time, that the word 'EYE' that Kazuha had found would be mentioned again.

But it hadn't been none of that.

"What I saw was the letter S in the alphabet!" Sakurako had claimed. "And it seemed it was followed by something else, but I couldn't see since his hand blocked it."

Which could've been pretty incriminating evidence for anyone, really, because the initial of either the first or last name of everyone involved was an 'S'. Really, what are the chances? Conan didn't know why it was surprising him anymore. Was the name a requirement for working with or marrying the president, or what?

Hattori was still expecting a response. Right. Not that he thought of giving him one, though.

How was he supposed to, when he didn't know a single thing himself?

"Uh…" Yonehara's small voice had both detectives turning to her. "Umm…"

"What's the matter?" asked Megure.

"The mistress talked about the tiles in the Karuizawa villa's bathroom and said that you may not be able to see them again."

She turned her head away, guiltily.

"But the truth is…"

"I'm so glad to see you here, Shin-!" A panicked look was sent his way. "S-Shinji-kun."

Shinichi leaned back, exhausted beyond belief, hand resting against his chest.

I might not have been getting those chest pains thanks to Shiho-chan's medicine lately, he thought. But if people keep screaming my name all over the place, it won't suffice.

"Of all names, you had to choose such an ugly name," said Shinichi, lowering his volume just in case. They were alone in the man's office, but he supposed he couldn't be careful enough. "But you did it alright, I guess, Mr. Principal."

Watanabe laughed amicably, yet there was this tension that made Shinichi unable to feel entirely relaxed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he waited patiently for the man to speak.

Sure enough, he did. "I've been trying to contact you for a while," he said. "I was getting worried you were caught by those people…"

"Still alive," he offered a shrug. "Had a bit of a drawback, though."

That being a bullet in his backside and an over-a-week-long coma, but he wasn't exactly comfortable sharing that much.

"So?" he questioned. "What seems to be wrong?"

Watanabe's gentle smile dimmed, the tips of his lips twitching downwards. His hands, clasped against each other, were posed over his desk ─ trembling lightly, noted the detective.

"I think I'm being stalked."

It was followed by a brief period of silence, which the man attributed to the sleuth attempting to process those words, to make sense of the situation he was in.

He saw the moment when they finally struck. But it was less than a second, as he had schooled his expression back to that professional seriousness he had seen many times before.

"What makes you think that?" Shinichi asked, surprisingly calm.

"At first, it was only a feeling," explained Watanabe. "I'd step into the courtyard to take care of those trees I planted, or I'd be at the grocery store, and my alertness would spike, as if I was being watched by someone else." He rested his chin on his intertwined hands. "I thought little of it, and just assumed I was being paranoid, but…"

Shinichi frowned. "But?"

"He started popping up." The detective didn't understand. "At my favorite restaurant as an ordinary customer, at the train station in the middle of the crowd on my way to work…" There was this spark of fear in his eyes that did not settle well with Shinichi. "I saw him this morning, too… Leisurely strolling in the opposite lane… In front of my house."

"On your house?!" Shinichi almost jumped off his seat. "Hey, hey! Didn't we agree-?"

"I did! I did everything you told me to!"

Watanabe had raised his voice enough for Shinichi to hear the unnatural quivering he might have been trying to keep at bay until now.

"Take a train to a random place, a different one every single day, before finally heading home," he continued, repeating every single step the detective had told him a long while ago. "Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. Not to let anyone ever follow you home. I did all of that, I swear!"

The detective did not answer, leaning back again in his seat. A hand went to his chin, stroking it lazily ─ a mannerism that Watanabe had seen several times in the past, serving as a sort of unspoken warning to him. He was to sit there, silently, waiting for the gears in this boy's head to stop turning.

Eventually, his head raised, looking straight ahead in contemplation. "Lend me your phone."

"Eh?"

"Your phone. Now."

That had him scrambling to get it out of his breast pocket. "The password-"

But Shinichi had it in his hands before he could utter it, rapidly tapping on it as if it belonged to it. It didn't surprise him as much as it should, as the man realized that this teenager somehow knew what the password was without him saying anything. He didn't want to know how he had figured it out, either.

"Have you spotted any peculiarities that weren't there before?" asked the teen. "Such as the battery discharging faster than usual, or the phone being unnaturally hot lately."

He shook his head right away in response. Shinichi hummed to himself, processing the answer, continuing to go through the phone to his heart's content. It wasn't much longer that he stopped, staring at the screen for a little longer than usual.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Watanabe, worriedly.

"How come the Location History feature is activated?"

"The… The what?"

Shinichi groaned to himself, looking over to the desk with a rather annoyed expression plastered all over his face. It settled on the laptop, resting in between the many books and random files spread all over.

"Have you ever logged into your mail account on that laptop?" he asked, and received a nod in response. "Do you ever log out?"

The muffled, unintelligible mutter he heard next conceded him all the answers he required. He sighed, taping a few things on the phone before passing it back to its confused owner.

"That account is linked to several apps besides your mail," replied Shinichi, rather calmly despite the current circumstances. "It includes a map app and a feature that records details of the places you visit."

"What?" Watanabe's eyes went wide. "Why is that a thing?!"

"Well, it's normally turned off by default. And there certainly is no way someone could access your account from another device without being notified about it." His eyes fell again on the laptop, and narrowed ever so slightly. "But if someone snuck in here and had access to it from that computer…"

The man went pale at the implications. "No way…"

Shinichi said no further word, crossing his arms over his chest, deep in thought.

Who is this person?

There were diamonds.

Well, no, actually they were just diamond-shaped bathroom tiles, covering the entire room, from walls to the floor they were standing in ─ and just like Kazuha had said, they were colored so that it would get lighter the higher they were. Apparently, the tiles in the villa were a slightly different hue, but the shape and the way they were colored were basically the same.

Conan stepped ahead, giving the room one last scan.

This is…

Actually, he didn't know what that was. Here I thought I'd be able to find something, he thought, crouching down so that he could inspect the tiles closer, but found nothing new. Does that really mean the message seriously disappeared?

That's stupid.

"I see." Conan heard. "So that's how they did it."

Confused, the boy looked from over his shoulder, just in time for Hattori to do the same. The way he smirked, then blinked dumbly, told Conan that he might have been expecting a similar reaction from him. Well, too bad, thought the kid, a little irritated even if the other had yet to say anything. I still don't get it.

It took a little for Hattori to understand and smile again. Under the puzzled gaze of the housekeeper, the older detective crouched right beside the boy and whispered, loud enough for only him to understand, "You don't know what this is, Conan?"

Conan looked away. Hattori laughed, amused.

"I knew there had to be a limit somewhere to your unsettlingly broad knowledge," he said next. "You can't have seen everything in this world at the age of eight, can you?"

"You know what else I haven't seen yet?" Now his head snapped back at him, his eyebrow twitching. "My soccer ball on your face."

"It's dangerous, y'know. To kick a ball indoors." He was unaffected by the darkening of his glare. "Hey, don't look at me. Look at the tiles."

At the tiles? Reluctantly, he turned his attention back to the floor, not without narrowing his eyes at him, almost menacingly. "What of it?"

"Place your hand there."

Hesitantly, Conan did as he was told, hoping that this would make sense soon. Unfortunately, it didn't, meaning that all he could do was stare, as if the answer would manifest out from thin air in front of his eyes.

"Try putting it…" Hattori promptly grabbed his hand. "Like this."

He had moved it so that his palm was covering the bottom half of the diamond tile. At first, Conan did not get it, his head tilting to one side as his eyes squinted, trying to see what the older detective meant. Until it struck, eyes opening in full capacity.

"The upper half from both this and the one under it are the same color!" Hattori nodded at the kid, unable to keep himself from snorting at the sight of his broad, impressed grin, that only increased when he repeated the process, only that covering the upper half instead ─ he got the same results. "These tiles are the same!"

"It's the Crosshatched Diamond Optical Illusion," informed Hattori, standing back up. "It's also known as Crazy Diamonds."

Conan stood as well, nodding at the new bout of information.

He was about to say something else when he noticed a light on by the corner of his eye. A glimpse told him it was a phone's screen lighting up because of an incoming call from the inside of Hattori's pocket. It had him blinking momentarily before he opened his mouth.

"Why do you have Kazuha-neechan's phone?"

"Eh?" Hattori plucked out the device to look at it. "Ah, it's Detective Yui."

Conan watched the detective picking the call up and being surprised when he heard Inspector Yamato's voice. As they talked, he allowed his attention to drift back to the diamond-shaped tiles from before.

Crazy Diamonds, he thought. If every tile is identical to each other, then they can be exchanged with each other.

Meaning, the dying message must be already there, scattered across the bathroom in that villa in Karuizawa. Nothing a bit of Luminol can't reveal.

A smirk crossed his face, without his consent.

Hattori's, however, dropped to the ground.

And once they do, the culprit's name will-

"S-O-N, you say?!"

-be revealed…

Wait.

Slowly, the boy turned around, eyes raising to meet Hattori who, unable to keep his mouth closed, focused on the cellphone against his ear instead.

S-O-N? Like, 'son'?

Like, the same son that dropped dead just a few hours ago?!

Conan groaned, passing a hand through his hair. This clue did not mean that the case was close to wrapping up.

This mystery… is just beginning to unfold.

A/N:

For the next few weeks, I'll probably be really busy with real-life stuff, so it's likely that I won't get to put up a chapter together in two weeks, as usual. If that happens, well, sorry in advance xD

CherryGirl 21-6: Well, he might have learned a thing or two in there, but nothing too crazy. And about the Heartfelt Strap, I don't want to spoil much… But I think you can guess how it's going to go, considering everything ;)

F.C. Meyer: Yeah, about that thing I told you before… I might have changed my mind just a little. Kinda. That's all I'm gonna say xD

About Curacao, I wouldn't say they have met before, but I think they might have heard about each other. Like, they know each other's existence, but have never met personally. That's what I'm thinking about now, anyway.

And thanks for letting me know about that other thing, I should have written 'brown' or something of the like there, but I must have overlooked it.