File One Hundred and Forty-Five: Where Everything Began
The sun had barely risen above the horizon by the time Ran opened her eyes.
Heavy eyelids lifted just enough to allow her to contemplate the ceiling of her room, the exhaustion clinging to her bones deterring her from moving another muscle. It was morning already, she all but complained within her mind, and certainly, she did not have the courage to look at the clock to calculate how many hours she had left before having to haul herself off bed.
Or Conan, in any case. He had been missing his morning radio exercises at school lately, and while it didn't exactly bother the boy in question, it certainly bothered his friends. More than once, he had heard Conan on the phone, trying to appease them after he had failed to show again. Besides, she had told him it was important for his health ─ he couldn't just miss them because he wanted to sleep a little longer.
If she ended up oversleeping, certainly, she wouldn't be able to set a good example for him. And she didn't want to put that one concerned expression on his little face; she didn't want him to look at her with those sharp eyes of his, because it was a given that he would be able to see the bags under her eyes, or the paleness of her skin.
She didn't want him to know of the face she hadn't been able to get rid of in her head, that had set her mind spiraling down in a void of questions, worry and little-to-no sleep. Or that, in the few, rare instances she was allowed to doze off, she would sink ─ deep into sea water, bubbles bursting out from her being to meet the surface, where a blonde girl with gelid emerald eyes peered down at her.
Her eyes would narrow, and immediately she would think of Conan.
And then, she would wake up in a cold sweat, the sound of rippling waves oddly present in her mind.
Pressing a hand to her forehead, Ran heaved out a heavy sigh. Mari, Sera's cousin, who had appeared from practically nowhere; there was something that didn't settle right with her. Something about the way she looked at her, she looked at Conan, that gave her the impression that she wasn't quite what met the eye. Besides that certain feeling of familiarity she couldn't seem to shake off.
It's the same with Sera-san, too. Blindly, she reached for her phone. I wonder what Shinichi has to say about this.
In fact, she was a little curious about what Conan had to say about everything, though she had the nagging feeling that he didn't have much to begin with. His face had been one to remember, just last night; almost comical, hadn't the situation been such a nerve-wracking one to her.
That last case had been beyond exhausting, for plenty of reasons. The night before had been a mess, for starters, with the legend of the Red Woman roaming about their heads and the prospect of danger ─ she should have known their luck wouldn't improve even if they were in Tokyo, but she sure had hoped for a respite. Alas, a murder striking down the following day had not been relaxing enough to fall in such a category ─ at the hands of the mind behind her beloved novel to make things even worse.
On an unrelated note, Ran had been nothing but disappointed to hear about his involvement in the crime. Of course, it was awful, a terrible sin that should have never been committed in the first place… But she had also been so excited to know how 'The Phone, the Sea and I' ended! She had been following it since it had been first released ─ three years, for crying out loud. And now, she was supposed to content herself with never knowing the ending to it.
Ran snapped herself out of it, not remembering when exactly she had stopped scrolling through her contacts. She was getting sidetracked here. Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to her ─ no good. Definitely no good. Again, she didn't want to worry Conan about all of this. God knew the boy had already a lot on his plate as it was.
Though, there was a part of her that informed her she was just deluding herself. That the boy had already known from the very beginning.
Even now, she still remembered his wide eyes on her, wide and filled with curiosity. She had averted his gaze then, fearing she would reveal too much, but there was no telling if that had helped at all.
"Ran-kun? Are you alright?"
If Sera had realized something off about her, Conan was sure to have noticed it already. It had been just after the duo had walked back into Sera's apartment, relieved smiles on their faces ─ Sera had told them that the case had been solved, so she guessed that explained that.
So, the group had decided to sit for a while longer, as per Sonoko's insistence, for them to recover their bearings. Though, being her best friend, Ran had the suspicion that it had more to do with her own, Ran's, state of mind. She had been more tense than usual, so maybe that had been it.
"I'm fine," she had assured her, her lips tensed into a smile. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all."
"It must have been a shock, huh?" Sonoko had interjected, understanding shown in her eyes ─ what she had been able to understand was a different matter altogether. "That Hiura-sensei could do such a thing."
Ran had refused to look towards the little boy. If she was to guess, she would say he was frowning right then. Not that she had had time to even confirm it, because her eyes had darted to that little girl, Mari, as she stood up suddenly.
"I'll go back to bed," was all she had said.
To which she had been able to do nothing but nod, just like Sonoko had. She suspected, however, that her friend's relief paled in comparison to her own; her breath had left her in a sigh, as if suddenly released from an enormous weight in her shoulders, while she watched Mari open the door to her room.
All of that had gone away the moment Conan had stood up, making a beeline to the door. This action had pulled Mari's movements to a halt, looking over her shoulder at the boy, silently prompting him to speak his mind.
Conan had faltered, staring back at Mari with an unreadable kind of look in his eyes.
At the corner of her eye, Ran had seen Sera unconsciously leaning closer.
"She… Uh…"
Conan had chuckled nervously. Mari's eyebrows had twitched ─ and the door had just begun to close on him, when the boy spluttered for her to wait, renowned with something akin to panic.
"Are you really her cousin?" His question had gotten her to stop and stare at him, incredulously. Sonoko had been blinking, if Ran remembered correctly, while Sera's breath had hitched. "I mean… is that real?"
"Wait, why wouldn't she?" Sonoko had exclaimed; she hadn't even been annoyed with the kid at the time, just plainly confused. "There's no reason for Sera-san to lie about that."
"There isn't," Ran had replied, before she could stop herself. "But that didn't stop her before."
And had faced her schoolmate again. The expression on her face had been such she wasn't able to read. Sonoko's, however, had been easier to decode, but there wasn't much to it besides shock, bewilderment and an overall feeling of having missed something important.
"Actually," Mari had said. Conan's head had whipped back to her, and no doubt, had been surprised to see a smirk growing on her face. "I'm her sister."
Even Sera had appeared shocked at that sentence.
"Her sister from another domain."
Conan had blinked, then blinked again. "From another what?"
No further clarification or answers of any kind had been granted for the rest of the night, as the door closed shut at the small detective's face. Who, after flinching, hadn't been able to react as much to anything else, just standing there with a dazed look in his eyes, so foreign to that face of his, as adorable, Ran would have said were the situation been any different.
Eventually, his features had smoothed out into indifference.
"Huh," she had heard him mumble to himself. "I think I'm starting to develop a disdain for this family in particular."
Sera had elbowed him. "I heard that."
As she laid there, Ran could not stop herself wondering, like she had been doing all night long ─ what had she meant with it? Sister from another domain, was it another way of saying 'cousin'? It didn't seem likely; if it was that simple, Conan would have surely been able to figure it out then. But the way she had seen him act seemed to speak otherwise.
She sat up slowly, dropping her phone back onto her bed, when it seemed obvious that Shinichi wasn't going to answer her calls. The line was busy, and had been busy for more than a few minutes now. What could that mystery freak be doing, anyway? A quick check at the time told her it was little past five in the morning, so it begged to question who he could have engaged in such a lengthy conversation with at such ungodly hours.
Then again, she was well past the point of being surprised about anything.
Well, it didn't seem like she would be getting any sleep now, in any case. With a groan, the teenage girl rose from her bed and see if she could freshen up a little before she had to wake Conan up. She would try her luck with Shinichi later, but as of now, there was little she could do.
It was when she passed by the living room that Ran halted in her tracks, her bleary, tired gaze resting somewhere in contemplation. Slowly she turned, her eyes falling on a slightly ajar door that led to her father's room, and squinted in darkness. There was light, she noted in surprise. Dim, barely even visible, but clearly noticeable in a room where only shadows and loud snoring seemed to prevail.
What could that be?
Curiosity overtook her, prompted her to approach the source. Her steps muffled and breath held back, she invited herself inside, and just as quickly realized that whatever light source she had dived in searching was not enough for wandering in the darkness. But she supposed it wouldn't be any trouble at all ─ she had been in this place her fair share of times, so it was given that she knew the layout of this room by heart. All she needed to do was tiptoe her way in and-
She bumped into something; whatever that had been, she had sent it toppling downwards, only to crash to the ground in a loud thud, followed by another, and another several others.
Her dad's snoring continued to fill the air, unbothered. Conan turned over, his slumber untouched. Ran sank with relief, but refrained herself from sighing. Just as silently, she crouched down to see what she had bumped into, and maybe do some damage control.
Unsurprisingly, the shape and weight indicated it was a book; several of them, in fact.
That Conan-kun, she thought, shaking her head. I bet he was up reading until late again.
Her theory was but supported at the sight that revealed itself afterwards. With Conan shifting in his sleep, and therefore his covers moving as a result, Ran was finally able to see where the light was coming from; with a sleepy mumble, a hand was thrown over his head, and the light shone brighter, chasing over the shadows that once cast over everything her eyes could see.
The tip of her lips twitched upwards in a contained giggle, and deep within herself she was glad that, with the boy fast asleep, she didn't have to keep her face straight into a stern scowl. To think that the identity behind the mysterious light had been, all along, the flashlight function in his wristwatch ─ probably to read under the covers until late hours into the night. It wouldn't even be the first time, so Ran wasn't sure why she hadn't thought of it before.
In any case, the light was quite useful. Now capable of seeing where she walked, the woman crouched down with a sigh, and started to pick up the books that were scattered all around. Why did he need so many books around, she wondered. Just one would have sufficed, after all.
She stopped herself, however, when she was picking up the last one. Blinking once, then twice, she shifted her gaze on the rest she was carrying on her arms, and felt her eyes widen slightly.
These are… 'The Phone, the Sea and I'? Ran thought, incredulously. She turned one of them over, scrutinizing it with her gaze to realize that, indeed, it was the third volume of the romance series she had fallen in love with.
They were her books, so she couldn't exactly say she didn't know where they had come from. Just before going to bed he had come to her, flushed and hesitant for some reason she hadn't been able to decipher ─ at first, because it soon became crystal clear when he opened his mouth and, in an embarrassed whisper, had asked if he could borrow her books. All of them.
She had given him in a heartbeat, a little too tired to even ask the reason behind his sudden request. At first, she had considered that, after solving a murder that author had committed, the boy had been too curious to help himself, either about the story itself, or Hiura's criminal mentality ─ not that she was sure about what, detectives could be a little weird, as her years with Shinichi had taught her. She had also entertained the idea that the boy had just wanted to humor her, to have her believe he wanted to finish the story she had once recommended to him.
But to think that he would actually read them. Every single one of them in a single night, she was willing to bet ─ it wouldn't actually surprise her as much as it probably should. Shinichi had, more than once, proved capable of reading several thousands of words in seconds. Ran had no reason to believe it would be any different for the younger member of the Kudo family. It never was, anyway.
She settled all of those in a neat pile nearby Conan's futon and silently crouched down next to him, leaning over to turn the watch off. In doing so, however, her eyes found yet another object that had not been supposed to be there.
A pen? she wondered, her head tilted as she looked closer. Further inspection revealed sheets of paper, partly crumpled where Conan's head lay. Scribbled notes spread all over the last page he had written, dragging towards the end into a single line that fell downwards ─ a definite proof of his determination, that had pushed him forward until he physically couldn't do it any longer.
Thoughtlessly, her fingers seized the stack of paper from under the boy's cheek, flipping them over until she reached what she assumed to be the first one. Conan's handwriting was a lot clearer than before; the first few lines, centered in the middle, made Ran's breath slip away.
"Say, Conan-kun," Ran immediately remembered asking. She recalled Conan's round blue eyes flickering away from the books he had been handed over, patiently waiting at her doorway for her to ask away. "You said you figured it out, didn't you?"
"Huh?"
"The meaning behind 'The Phone, the Sea and I'. You know what it means, right?"
It had taken a little for Conan to reply, but eventually, he had shrugged with a broad smile.
"Eh, it's nothing important, really."
The Phone, the Sea, and I
The Final Chapter
For a moment, the girl wasn't sure what she was supposed to think, she just gawked at the rest of what, now that she looked at it a little better, seemed to be a piece of fan literature she never believed would ever find itself in her hands. Conan had been writing this, the realization sank slowly, after reading the entire series for a few hours ─ but why? Ran couldn't wrap her head around it.
Until suddenly, it fell on her. Her poor, exhausted behavior. Her incapability to pretend to be normal when there was too much in her head to function normally. As expected, the boy had seen it.
That was who Conan-kun was, after all.
With confusion dispelled, her gaze began to soften the more she watched him; a chest that rose and fell, the soft breathing that paled in comparison to her father's loud snoring. She wondered if she should try to scoop up her melting heart, if it was even worth trying.
Gingerly, she clicked the light shut and placed the rest of the pages under the pile of books. She figured she should leave now, that it wouldn't be so bad if she let the boy sleep a little longer, just this once. But still, she couldn't contain herself and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his hairline.
If Conan asked about her visit later when he woke up, she would just say she cleaned about some. She would have to scold him, sure, as staying up late was not appropriate behavior. But, she decided upon closing the door behind him, to deny ever reading what those pages contained.
No matter how priceless his little face would have been otherwise. Oh, how tempting.
Although Hakuba hadn't been too expressive in his message, Aoko supposed he had conveyed it pretty well.
Granted, the detective had already apologized for the brevity in his text message, for he was apparently fairly busy at the moment, and while she couldn't figure out what in the world the boy was made of, to be up and about at such an early hour ─ it wouldn't be until much later, after she had woken up completely that Aoko would realize there was a nine-hour difference to take into consideration ─ at least it had eased up that massive weight that had felt so heavy in her shoulders.
Akako was alright, Hakuba had told her. Unharmed, it would seem. That was all he had said yet, in the light of the revelation, details were mostly irrelevant to her.
Such good news were meant to be spread over. That was why the teenage girl found herself at Kaito's doorstep at an ungodly hour in the morning she barely even registered.
Therefore, she had thought it to be expected, no matter how irrelevant to her at that moment, to bask in the glare from her childhood friend as a substitute for a warm welcome. Maybe she expected him to groan at her, grumble something under his breath that her ears would barely pick on, only for Kudo's light scolding to resound from further inside the house. Then the detective would definitely set the magician aside so that she could invite herself inside.
When the door opened and only surprise was visible in Kaito's gaze, she understood that something else entirely had happened. "Akako-chan is safe," she said, her face smooth and expressionless. Watching for his reaction.
He nodded, and that was it. Kaito must have heard about it before, concluded the girl as she raised an eyebrow back at him. The magician stood without bothering to utter a single word, not even as she observed him so carefully ─ his eyes blinked, lacking any signs of drowsiness inherent to him in the mornings. He remained rooted in his spot, muscles tense with what Aoko could only interpret as uneasiness, or even impatience. What could possibly be happening, she wondered. Usually, this boy wasn't as easy to read, and it would be delusional for her to think it was her years of living next door as his closest friend that had granted her such an incredible, borderline supernatural skill.
No, he was in some sort of hurry. Come to think of it, where's Kudo-kun? Normally he would be at the door by now, inquiring what seemed to be wrong. But he was strangely missing from the scene.
Aoko stepped back, allowing herself time to ponder about it, in spite of Kaito's raised eyebrow.
Kaito already knew that Akako was alright. He was in a hurry, too, and Kudo was not there as usual. Meaning, Kudo was dealing with something inside the house that Kaito wanted to return to as soon as possible.
Incidentally, Hakuba had said he was busy before, hadn't he? Taking that into consideration…
Aoko's features smoothed out into indifference. "Okay," she said. "Move aside."
Kaito did not react quickly enough, and just as easily, the girl promptly brushed right past him and walked in. "What are you doing?" he asked. His voice sounded so genuinely confused that it was hard for Aoko to fight off the faintest of smiles.
So she didn't. "I wanna talk with Hakuba-kun, too."
Frankly speaking, there were more than a few reasons to call this morning an unusual one, even to Shinichi's standards.
Seriously, there was no way he could pretend he actually had one. Especially when he had been woken up at some random time in the morning by his phone ─ not his phone alarm, of course not. It had to be a video call.
From Hakuba itself, to top it off. Immediately, he had remembered the case that the blonde detective had been involved in, as he had learned from Aoko, so he had answered right away. Seeing Akako sitting there had been almost as relieving as disturbing. Which shouldn't have even been a surprise by itself, had it not been for the bright red book ─ diary? ─ he had spotted, cradled to her chest.
Not that he had activated his own camera, knowing that he didn't exactly look his best, fresh out of bed in his pajamas and without his usual disguise. But he hurried anyway, making himself look presentable enough as quickly as possible to head to the living room to have a proper conversation.
Not a private one, though. Kaito had shown up in the living room at some point. Something to be expected, he supposed, but the clearly more important matter at hand must have caused to ignore his presence. Incredible as that may be.
Said magician had disappeared at some point, and just as the detective was about to question his absence, that certain resounding, energetic set of steps stormed their way in.
Funny how Aoko's intrusion had been the least surprising thing out of everything happening lately.
"So, you mean to say that all this time…" Shinichi began, a little out of breath ─ Aoko, having stumbled in mid-conversation, blinked as she tried to make sense of his expression. "Koizumi-san has been hiding in the forest itself?"
Aoko ogled at him. Akako remained impassive, as always.
So Shinichi sighed against his hand. "How is that even possible?" he mumbled.
Hakuba leaned forward, fingers interlocked with each other, serving as support for his chin. "It's possible… thanks to the spirits of the woods."
Shinichi peeked from between his fingers, his eyes slightly wider than before. Although he sensed Aoko's eyes on him, full of curiosity, he didn't even bother reacting.
"Incredible discovery, Meitantei," Kaito said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Tantei-san cracking a joke? You're making history."
"Hm?" He turned to stare at him for a moment, then added. "Oh, no. He isn't."
Kaito's features smoothed out. "Seriously?"
With a nod, he continued, "There are people there, aren't there?" Though this time it seemed to be directed to that one girl sitting there, quiet and still at the corner of Shinichi's phone screen. "Actual people, living deep within Wistman's Woods."
For a moment, not a word left her lips, until, "I promised I would never speak a word about them."
"In exchange for shelter and protection, I presume," Shinichi said. "Your clothes are in perfect condition, and you don't present lacerations of any kind, dirt, or the subtlest signs of dehydration. Even though you've been staying in a forest for over a day."
She offered him no answer at all. Not that he was expecting one.
"Someone let you into their home," Shinichi said, eyes narrowing. "There you waited until you were told the case was solved, and therefore it was safe to get out."
"That girl that Aoko-san spoke of must have taken you there, to her home ─ or a village, for all we know," Hakuba took over. "Bell-san mentioned having heard voices of people speaking, or even people walking around back when she was a little girl playing in the forest. It's clear that these people have been around for quite a while."
"But didn't they search the forest?" Kaito inquired. "And even if they didn't, throughout all these years, someone surely must have run into this hypothetical ghost-not-ghost family slash community you've been speculating about."
"Fear is but a powerful force to deal with." Shinichi zeroed on him with that one look that told him this was no joking matter, and said, "There have been sightings that 'proved'," while drawing quote marks with his fingers for better emphasis, "the existence of ghostly little girls wandering about. Maybe that girl that Koizumi-san ran into was one of them."
"Those stories have done nothing but to grow stronger over the years," Hakuba said. " They keep unwanted intruders at bay, allowing these people to live in peace; secretly, guarded to themselves."
Her silence stretched out and beyond, tugging at Aoko's already frayed nerves. It brought forward that old wave of uncertainty she had been trying to keep under her own radar despite its tendency to float back to the surface at the faintest stimuli. She had really thought it would get better with the reassurance that her friend was unharmed and free of any kind of danger.
Seeing Akako sit there, overflowing with grace and elegance, but lacking any resemblance of emotion in her face, should have sent the tension leaching from her body. But as it was, her back was rigid, her hands clenched with each other as she sat in a chair she had usurped from Kaito's living room.
Which was strange, she couldn't help but think. It had been a long time since she had seen Kudo-kun adopt that Hirai Arthur persona she had met him as, yet, casting the obvious physical differences aside, it was like he had been the same person all along; his mannerisms, the way he seemed to smirk as he got the whole picture of the situation, without even realizing himself he had done such a thing ─ it was obvious, wasn't it?
Because Kudo-kun is Hirai-kun. Hirai-kun is Kudo-kun. So nothing had changed at all. Simple as that.
Watching him exchange those sorts of glances with Hakuba, Kaito lazily slumped over the couch as though he wanted to convince everyone he wasn't paying attention even though Aoko knew he had memorized the conversation to heart… Akako staying silent as though she should blend in the background, waiting for the right moment to smirk so mysteriously and add to the conversation…
For what seemed ages now, Aoko had longed for this to return; the 'detective team' she had put together being together now. For those olden times when everything was easier to return…
They weren't easier, a voice whispered to the back of her head. They just seemed to be.
Because she didn't know any better. But now that she did, she was left to wonder if it had ever been like that, only that she wasn't aware of everything that ran in the background.
Her head rose back sharply, unable to determine when she had lowered her gaze to the ground. She later identified that sound, the one that had spooked into awareness as the dull thud of a book against a table ─ more like an unbelievably, red diary set on the coffee table, where, due to the slight trembling of the image displayed on the screen, she assumed Hakuba's phone had been propped up on.
"She gave me this," Akako said. Ever so distant, mysterious as per her own nature dictated. "The little girl."
She sat back right afterwards, patiently waiting for the rest to do as they pleased with her information. Being the only one capable of doing so, Hakuba reached forward to the object in question, not without shooting a meaningful look at the other girl. She didn't even blink at him, so he assumed that it was alright for him to proceed, and gingerly picked up the diary.
His eyes scanned over the pages, moving from left to right, rinse and repeat for a few iterations further. They snapped open, as if to take everything on that page at once.
"What's that?" asked Kaito, impatience just beginning to seep through that carefully crafted mask permanently sewed to his face. "Hey, Hakuba-"
"This… Here, you might want to look at this by yourselves."
All three of them huddled against each other, hoping to get a good look at it when the camera was turned to the first page. Their reactions had not been so different from the detective before them.
Whatever Shinichi had expected to see, surely this was not it; black ink dancing across a page tinted a faint yellow as time inevitably passed by. Neat, beautiful like no other ─ it was that type of elegant cursive Shinichi's hands would never dream of producing.
"To my dear Hinata,
There's no turning back.
I tried living lies, as if… A total…
Arty-chan? She's eager…
to see you die.
Wouldn't worry this much, though.
Glad… Glaad…
She is a true darling, see? Well…
I don't fear her, but I envy her."
Shinichi actually had to read it twice to make sure he hadn't understood it wrong, yet the meaning behind this brief passage continued to elude him. Maybe the other two weren't as lost as he was, he found himself hoping, sending a glance over to them, and felt himself sigh.
Aoko was squinting her eyes, her lips pressed against each other in utter concentration, even though he would probably see steam rushing from his ears if he tried hard enough. Kaito was no better, staring right at him, as if he was waiting for him to explain the whole thing ─ momentarily, Shinichi thought of telling him to lend him a hand to figure this out, except he recalled doing it at least once in the past. The magician had argued he was skilled in making codes, not deciphering them. Which was his, Shinichi's, the detective's, job to solve it. He didn't see how it would go any differently if he tried now.
"Koizumi-san," he said instead. He needed a better approach to the situation ─ some more information wouldn't hurt, he supposed. "Do you happen to know why she entrusted this to you?"
"Apparently, she was told to do so," Akako replied. "She was told that a brilliant detective was bound to appear sooner or later. She was supposed to pass it over to him."
Kaito rolled his eyes. "As if that thing wasn't cryptic enough…"
For once, Shinichi was tempted to agree. "Did she mention who that was?"
"She called her Miss Arty." Shinichi felt himself twitch ─ he had just read that name, in that passage in the diary. "She covered her mouth right after saying that name, muttering that she wasn't supposed to say that."
"Why?" wondered Aoko.
"I asked her the same thing, and she actually smiled." Akako's face scrunched, confusion foreign to that face of hers. "Then she said that 'a secret makes a woman, woman'. I'm afraid I'm not certain of what she meant with… that…"
Certainly, it didn't escape him that her words had trailed down into silence. No doubt, the girl on the screen must have noticed him going pale suddenly when a shudder took hold of his body, thick beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead.
Burgundy red lips curved in a venomous smile. A single, slender finger raising to pose in front of them.
Vermouth.
It was that mere thought that pierced through reality, everything fading it to the background to allow his mind to run wild. A brilliant detective, she had mentioned. Was it possible that Vermouth wanted Hakuba to have it? No, she couldn't have known this would have happened, even less that it would end in his hands as a direct result of it all.
Maybe it wasn't Hakuba who she had intended to get the diary to. It had to be someone she was more acquainted with ─ someone she trusted, in the most dangerous, twisted way there could ever be.
Knowing her, she would eventually drag me into the forest. He shivered at his next thought. Or Conan. Which was just as likely, unfortunately.
That means, in that diary… His eyes traveled back to the screen, where those ominous words waited patiently for him to understand what they really meant to communicate. There's an important clue to pass over at some point.
A message from Vermouth? More like a message from hell, Shinichi grimaced.
Shinichi had not realized everyone had fallen quiet until he heard Hakuba's voice again.
"It starts with 'my dear Hinata'," he observed. "Could it be…?"
Shinichi had noticed that as well ─ Hinata, just like 'Hinata Koizumi', the word on the tombstone at Wistman's Wood. It couldn't be a coincidence.
"Why do you have that?" Akako asked suddenly, and only then, Shinichi looked up to see.
The camera had shifted a little bit, and now he was watching Hakuba; he was casting an unreadable gaze at his hand; that plastic soldier, realized Shinichi, was oddly familiar to him, somehow.
Hakuba took his time to answer, similarly to Shinichi himself whenever he was deeply immersed in his own musings, more often than not related to a case he could not crack.
"It's from that grave," replied Hakuba.
"I didn't ask that," Akako said, her lips curving into a small smirk. "You should know, the spirits of the dead are vicious when they are disturbed."
"I think I'll take my chances, thank you."
Shinichi then recalled he, too, had seen that thing there, standing over the tombstone. He remembered having wondered who had left it there, but as it was now, he was starting to toy with the idea that he might know who it had been.
This object, this toy, had to be related to the Organization to some extent. Maybe he could find a pattern if he tried hard enough, a pattern of sorts that would reveal what Vermouth might have been referring to. He closed his eyes, trying to conjure the answer to his mind, but he could see nothing.
He could see nothing ─ but somehow, he could hear. There was a flapping of wings, next to his ear, and immediately his mind imagined pitch black feathers, covering in black all there was to see.
Kaito suddenly sprung to his feet with a loud, "Snowy!" And for some reason he couldn't comprehend, Shinichi found now staring with a distant, if distracted, gaze as the magician reached over to catch a white bunch of feathers and a peak with his bare hands, murmuring, "You know you aren't supposed to be here."
So Kaito's dove had wandered over to the living room again, that was what the flapping wings had been ─ nothing too unusual, really. That being said, he couldn't understand why he could not stop looking at that one naughty bird, currently curled up in Kaito's hand.
Or why he couldn't get the image of crows away from his mind. They flew all over his mental palace, as if dancing to the beat of a gentle melody warming the air around ─ though, for Shinichi himself, all it did was freeze him all over, his skin crawling at the mere thought of it.
Mother crow, why do you squawk so?
That song ─ it wasn't all that bad, but frankly, this situation with the Organization and their strange fixation on it had kind of ruined it for him. He had wondered, more than once in the past, if the boss of that nefarious organization had a reason for them to bother to make it their personal trademark ─ to the point of having his phone number sound like it.
It wasn't only Nanatsu no Ko, Shinichi realized a blink later. Teru-teru-bozu, they had used that song too to pass a message over to Vermouth, and terrified Conan to the core in the process, too.
Both of them are children's songs, the detective realized. His hand went to his chin, eyes narrowing, wondering if that was the pattern he had been wracking his mind for.
Kaito's finger stopped rubbing against Snowy's head. "What's that, Kudo?" he asked. "You're making a scary face there…"
Shinichi only furrowed his brow.
"A children's song…" His lips moved on their own, mumbling his own thoughts without his notice. "Soldier…"
"Ten little soldier boys went out to dine…" That got Shinichi out of his trance, to stare wide eyed at Aoko who, beaming back at the two boys, continued to hum along a familiar melody. "One choked his little self and then there were nine!"
He said nothing, not even moved at all.
Unlike him, Kaito raised an eyebrow at his childhood friend, asking, "What's with the creepy song?"
"That's a lullaby my mother used to sing when I was little," Aoko chirped, before stopping herself suddenly. Her gaze drifted upwards, pondering about something, before adding, "Dad said it was actually from an old movie she liked and it wasn't exactly a lullaby, but it didn't matter to her."
Kaito stared at her, fighting to find his words. "Lovely," he finally managed.
Hakuba, on the other hand, smirked. "Agatha Christie," he commented. "One of the best mystery writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading."
"Good to know. I'll stay away from that book, thank you."
"Please. Like you know how to read, Bakaito."
That was right, Agatha Christie ─ one of the best among the best in classic mystery literature. Come to think of it, the Black Organization weren't exactly strangers to that. He remembered Shiho once telling him about how she had to ask Conan how to spell 'Shelling Ford' for a password once. There was that virus, too, that had obliterated Professor Agasa's computer. It was named after his father's Night Baron, if his memory didn't fail him.
It fit perfectly. Almost a little too perfectly.
"Hakuba," he spoke, suddenly gathering the attention back to him. "Read the tenth letter from each sentence."
"Hey," Kaito spoke, raising an eyebrow. "You don't think that…"
Hakuba took his time reading over the lines, then shook his head. It didn't make any sense, Shinichi had to fight off a wave of disappointment ─ he had really thought that was it, but he guessed he had been off his game.
"Ten little soldier boys went out to dine," Hakuba mumbled to himself. "One choked his little self and then there were… nine."
His eyes widened just a sliver, and he curled over the diary again. His finger caressed the page as he read through the lines, and Shinichi found it hard not to rise back to his feet, impatiently waiting to hear all about what Hakuba had figured out.
"Hakuba-kun?" He wasn't the only one, evidently. Aoko was practically trembling in her spot with contained energy.
"First there were ten, in that song," Hakuba muttered, his eyes frantically darting from one side to another as he kept on reading. "But afterwards there were nine. As the story progresses, the number decreases."
Shinichi blinked, then effectively raised to his feet. "Does that mean-?!"
"You two weren't that off the mark." Finally, Hakuba sat back ─ a satisfied smile rose to his lips, and Shinichi felt himself vibrate in anticipation. "As you supposed, it's all about counting letters and taking the ones in a certain position. Once you get one, you continue counting from the rest of the sentence, but if you fall short, you start over from the following verse."
"First there were ten, so I assume you first take the tenth letter." His fellow detective nodded slowly. "Then there were nine, so you take the ninth… And then the eighth…"
"And so on," Aoko added, her eyes wide with amazement. "After you get down to 'one', I suppose you start over?"
"Exactly," Hakuba said.
He paused, eyeing the cypher for a moment longer, before uttering; his voice low, his finger pointing at each letter in the position he had determined,
"It all started with Dad's death."
Shinichi sucked in a deep breath, but otherwise, he didn't say anything at all ─ even though he supposed his face might have betrayed him, speaking of so much more than he would have been comfortable with. Proof was Kaito, and his narrowed eyes that tried to pry into what he did not want to reveal.
That he had absolutely not a clue of what that was supposed to mean.
Hakuba, on the other hand, flipped a page and scanned it over. "I believe the rest is the same as before," he told them. "It'll take a while, but it shouldn't be difficult."
"I see." Shinichi lowered back to his seat, took a moment to ponder over it, before nodding ─ if it was to Hakuba or for his own sake, not even the high school detective was certain about it. "I'll leave it to you, Hakuba. Glad you're safe, Koizumi-san."
Akako only nodded at him, fairly too concentrated on the diary to be extremely receptive to his comment. After being assured by Hakuba that he would send the whole thing back as soon as he managed to decode it, with a quick thanks, the detective hung up the call for good.
He wearily leaned back right afterwards; even though the day had just begun, Shinichi felt exhausted enough to collapse back to bed and not wake up for a week.
Vermouth, and the Organization ─ certainly, this was far from the way he would've wanted to start his morning.
Aoko gave him a pitying glance, which he ignored. Though he was unaware of the extent to which the girl grasped the situation as a whole, he suspected she had a fairly good idea of the exhaustion currently sipping to his bones. Aoko was observant enough ─ then again, she didn't need to be nearly that good to see it, he supposed.
She tore her gaze away from him abruptly, fluttering her eyelids at nothing in particular.
"Well, that's strange," she muttered.
Both Shinichi and Kaito gave her a look ─ there were plenty of things happening around them that could fall into the 'strange' category, so she might have needed to be a little more specific about it.
Her eyes widened, bewildered by her own realization.
"All this time, Akako-chan knew about it too?!"
Shinichi genuinely did not understand what she was talking about. This seemed to exasperate her.
"Bakaito!" Kaito flinched slightly under her gaze, but did not react otherwise. "You called Kudo-kun by his name earlier, didn't you?!"
Kaito pondered over it for a moment. "I… suppose I did?"
"Was Akako-chan supposed to know he's Kudo Shinichi-kun?"
"I… don't think so." Kaito paused, then turned to the detective, eyebrows raised. "Hey, just what did you tell her, Meitantei?"
As far as he knew, nothing at all. He didn't bother to reply, hoping that raising a hand to his face and sighing against it would convey the message better than any words would. He was wiped out, and dealing with the atrocious mystery Koizumi Akako was known to be was nothing he wanted to deal with at the moment.
One glance at his phone let him know that it was only six in the morning.
And oh, he had a few missed calls from Ran.
He wasn't looking forward to that.
Conan hadn't thought to be subtle that morning when he walked into Beika's local library, as per he had grown used to ever since the beginning of summer. Unlike all other instances, however, the boy was rushing, practically running, as he passed through the doors.
Dodging a few irritated glares shot his way, the small detective allowed his gaze to wander across the room. It didn't take long to spot him, mostly because nowadays, they were one of the few souls in this city that would willingly hang out in a library in the middle of summer break in the morning. Meaning that there weren't many people in there, besides that boy sitting at that same old table at the corner of the library, hiding under his hair and slumped over as if he was willing to disappear from sight, if that was possible.
Conan brightened, raising his hand as he hurried over. "Honda!" he half-shouted, half-whispered. The other boy barely even got the time to look up from the book he had been reading when he found himself in company. But smiled timidly regardless, glancing over at his new friend, who grinned from the seat he had taken for himself.
"Sorry I'm late," Conan apologized as he slipped a bag strap from his shoulder. "Did I make you wait long?"
"A little," Honda admitted, his voice in a fragile whisper. Nothing new here. He crooked his head. "Did you oversleep this morning?"
Conan halted. "How did you know?"
There was no verbal response to that, but the boy pointed at his own face, right at the corner of his mouth, as a substitute. Conan imitated his gesture, then proceeded to grimace when he found a small trace of toothpaste stuck to his fingertips.
Embarrassing as that was, Conan found himself unable to be surprised about it. That morning had been quite a chaotic one, for Conan in any case. Apparently, Ran had stumbled into his room after he had passed out working on something she definitely hadn't been supposed to see, at least not yet, which was mortifying in more than one sense ─ not that she had commented on it, but Conan knew a tidied up room when he saw one. Especially when it had been a mess when he had last seen it. She must have picked into what he had been up to, and for how many hours into the night, because she had decided to let him sleep in a little, despite what the original schedule dictated.
And maybe he had failed to inform her she was meeting someone at the library, leading him to jump out of bed and try to make himself presentable enough not to draw a few odd glances when he stumbled into the street. The incident with the toothpaste Honda mentioned had totally escaped Ran, though, which, while a motive of concern, it didn't come out as a shock.
Ran had been distracted this morning ─ the kind of distracted that came with not realizing she had been wearing her shirt backwards until Conan mentioned it through a mouthful of toast. He blamed his brother for that, though he didn't know if it was because she kept staring down at her phone, as if waiting for a call that wouldn't come, or just his natural predisposition to blame him for such things.
Her finger, however, had never stopped unconsciously drawing figures against the tablecloth. It reminded him of waves.
Shaking his head with a sigh, Conan finally freed himself from his bag and settled it over the table to take out his books. Books, because a single one had not been enough for him lately. Especially with the cheesy romance novels he had binge-reading last night ─ novels he wanted to wipe clean from his mind. Maybe overwriting it with an old murder mystery could do the trick.
Honda looked up, his attention drawn by something. Before he could ask what it was, he noticed his hand reach for that one red dolphin keychain he had attached to his bag the other day. Not because he wanted to, but because Ayumi had insisted that everyone had to put it somewhere it was visible so that everyone would know they were friends. Conan refrained from pointing out that pretty much everyone at school knew it already. He was positive the whole town had caught wind of it, and even then, they weren't making it a point to pretend otherwise while they hung out, so it was obvious.
Perhaps there was something else at play, though. Conan had caught Ayumi gazing longingly at her pink dolphin more than once over the days. And although he didn't comment on it, he hoped that Ayaka would wake up soon.
"That keychain," Honda began, turning the dolphin doll over as if to inspect it better. "Isn't it from Touto Aquarium?"
"Ah, yeah. My friends insisted we should get one each." Honda hummed and let go, going back to his book. Conan paused, staring at him for a moment, then put the bag away, asking, "Did you go there?"
"With my aunt," the boy conceded. "We left early, though. Before that freak accident."
Conan had to conceal a wince at the memory that was a bit too clear in his mind ─ whether it was the one where he was thrown about to keep the gigantic wheel from crushing everybody on its wake, or the red, red, red blood tinting his fingertips, gushing from his brother's forehead after he shielded him from a fall, he wasn't one hundred percent sure. A ninety-nine percent seemed more like it.
"It was a miracle," Honda added, not looking away from his book. "That nobody died."
"Yeah," Conan breathed out. It truly was a miracle ─ if those existed in this world, in any case. "It is."
Honda's eyes shifted to his face, as if surveying it for a second, until a smile spread across his features. Facing him fully, he said, "I tried cheesecake, though! Like you told me. It's pretty nice."
"That's all you got to say? Nice?"
"Pretty nice, is what I said."
With a narrowed glance from Conan, that may or may not be accompanied by a hint of a frown ─ but definitely not a pout ─ the conversation topic was dropped and forgotten, replaced by the rustling of turning pages and the occasional hushed whispering. Eventually, Conan looked away from his book to study Honda's focused expression, and smiled.
"You're getting pretty good at this," he told him, leaning over the table, if slightly. "I'm not really sure you need my help with kanji anymore."
"Maybe…" he conceded, his enthusiasm subdued. Conan couldn't understand that reaction, but didn't raise an eyebrow until Honda started twiddling with his fingers. "Say, Conan-kun."
"Hm?"
"Would it bother you if you… if we… um…" He curled into himself, battling to find his words. "It's just too hard to find someone… Someone who really understands…"
"Sure!" Honda's head jerked back up, and was immediately met with a broad, bright smile on the other boy's face. "But you better finish The Sign of Four next time we hang out, or I'll refuse to talk with you."
That was when, totally out of the blue, something started buzzing. That 'something' was revealed to be Conan's phone when he plucked it out of his pocket, if only to be glared at. A huff left his lips, and immediately hunched over, fingers typing at light-speed, head shaking from side to side every few words.
Honda watched him, hand cradling his head, silent as if he had never been there to begin with.
Far ahead from where the two boys sat, in a tiny window he would have overlooked any other day a bird settled down for a well-deserved rest; barely big enough to cover the palm of his hand, grooming feathers black as the night.
"Honda?" Conan called him out, his head tilted slightly to the left. "Something wrong?"
If he wasted a second longer than usual staring at him, then Conan neglected telling him about it. "Nothing over here," he finally said. "Can't say the same for you."
Those words have been all it took for him to crumple over and press his chin to the table.
"They're mad at me. My friends," he said with a sigh. "Because I apparently don't know what 'compromise' means, even though I thought I made it clear I'm not interested in that radio exercising thing."
"Maria-chan mentioned something like that, too," Honda told him, scrunching his nose. "It's supposed to be good for you."
Cheek smooshed against the wooden surface of their table, Conan lifted a single eyebrow. "Am I supposed to believe you showed up to a single one of them?"
Honda's sheepish smile said it all. "Never said you were."
For the first time he could remember, there had been no cases for him to solve. No screams foreshadowing a messy crime scene sprawled over the sidewalk on his way to the local park, no drowned body spotted at the pond where the soccer ball ended after Gerta kicked it a little too high, or even the subtlest hint of a call coming from a poor neighbor whose beloved cat had disappeared on him.
There was nothing waiting for him back. Nothing besides the smell of a book and the faint murmur of Ran's voice carried into the air as he read, its meaning lost, muffled by the thick walls of her bedroom. Again, Conan had no idea of the identity of the person on the other side of her phone, realistically speaking it could be anyone; from Sonoko to Kazuha, or even that one classmate whose name Conan hadn't been bothered to remember ever, though he supposed had met that time he went ghost hunting at Teitan High. Yet somehow, Conan was once more tempted to blame his older brother for this one.
This sudden onset of good luck was, however, starting to worry him. Peace was nothing but flicker, he knew that better than most people, so he really didn't want to imagine what he would encounter next, the moment fate finally lost its patience with him and struck once more.
Maybe this is it, the thought had casually strolled its way into his mind, waved over by the sight that greeted him once he decided to lift his head from where it was buried in a book. Maybe this is destiny, knocking at the door to mess up with me again.
More like tapping in the window was more likely, and instead of knuckles there was a small beak; which, come to think of it, would it be a contradiction at all? Supposing that there was an actual manifestation of destiny itself, there was nothing to say it would be human-shaped. Small beads as eyes fixated on him and a slightly crooked head ─ destiny had apparently taken the form of a black bird and was resting on his windowsill.
Or maybe he should get to bed. The exhaustion that still clung to his bones from these few hectic weeks was probably getting to him.
Incoming danger or hallucination, Conan decided he had to face it either way, climbing onto Kogoro's bed to reach the window. It flapped its wings at the action, and only then did the boy realize there was a note attached to its leg.
Thus, he stared. He stuck one tentative hand forward and gingerly took the message, and eyed once more this strange animal. The bird hardly moved away, as if awaiting him to be done with it. So, the boy took a shaky breath in, risked a glance over at the piece of paper, and unfolded it.
"Yo, Tantei-kun!"
The fact that this, this one small, worthless piece of paper, was what destiny looked like was oddly comforting somehow. Since it was flammable.
"You might be wondering why you're having the pleasure to receive a message from me, but first, take a moment to breathe. Settle down, I know you're shaking out of pure excitement, but all this energy is going to help nobody, Tantei-kun."
And he wasn't entirely wrong, Conan would give him that. He was shaking alright ─ hardly out of excitement, though.
"Please, take a moment to look at Snowy here; my beautiful girl deserves to be appreciated and I won't forgive you if you don't give her a good pat on the head."
Reluctantly, the boy did as told ─ by this stupid letter crafted by a stupid thief that clearly had no life. His eyebrow was twitching by the moment his eyes posed on the pitch black bird, and ever so haltingly, moved his finger closer.
He hesitated, cringing at the memory of last time he had attempted something like that ─ allegedly, human beings were absolutely incapable of remembering pain, but Conan could swear up and down that his finger still stung with the memory of a small peak nibbling on it.
So, he was extremely gentle in his dangerous endeavor. Fortunately, this one was a bit nicer than the last one KID had sent over, deciding against having his fingertips for dinner and, instead, rubbing her little head against it. A sigh of relief left his lips, smiling softly without really noticing it himself.
So Snowy, was it? Conan wondered, eyeing the animal with newfound interest. Despite what her name would imply, this one was pitch black. Maybe KID had dyed her, for whatever reason that escaped the boy completely, and he wasn't about to ponder about it. Is it okay, though?
Eyebrow raised, his hand still caressing Snowy's beautiful black feathers, he returned to the letter.
"I know what you're thinking, and you wound me. The dye I used is perfectly safe. Do you genuinely think I would do something so irresponsible and cruel to my lovely-"
Again, a sigh left his system ─ not out of relief this time, clearly. At least, he could recognize one single good thing about being contacted by that thief in such unorthodox means. Had they, God forbid, met in person, Conan wouldn't have been able to skim through that useless ramble until he got to the interesting part. Not that he thought anything interesting would ever get out of that guy's mind, but at least he was hoping for something marginally better than whatever that was.
"Now that is settled with, let us get straight to the point.
The reason I am reaching out to you, Tantei-kun, is that Meitantei and I had a… disagreement."
Conan gazed down at the letter, boredly as if the thief was actually there. He was the one who deserved it, not this poor innocent piece of paper he was probably going to burn later, anyway. What does that have to do with me? he would have asked if he could be heard.
"This does have everything to do with you, I'm afraid. In all these years I've known him, I've come to realize there are very few things that could hope to agitate him. You, Tantei-kun, are the most effective in the work.
I'll gladly fill in the blanks for you, if you'd allow me."
Allowed or not, he did so anyway.
And for the first time, Conan actually paid attention. Snowy had apparently grown bored with waiting outside, and instead, had invited herself in ─ cheeky as her owner, the child absently realized. He didn't pay attention, barely even recognizing the rustle of feathers as she sole-handedly declared his hair as her brand new nest. All he did was sit there, cross-legged on Kogoro's permanently unmade bed and clutch the letter with his two hands, soaking himself in the events that had, apparently, taken place these last two days.
A crime had occurred in Wistman's Wood, a place he remembered visiting during his trip to London a little over a month ago. The fact surprised more than it probably should have ─ not because it had happened, but because it didn't happen while he was there. If he had to blame anyone for it, it would probably be his older brother, however. That one odd classmate of his had been involved with it, so maybe he had rubbed his condition on her.
Granted, from the few times he had seen them together, he had gotten the impression that they did not spend a lot of time together, but he couldn't really be sure. She could also be carrying a history of plain bad luck for all he knew, and clearly, sharing her name with a random dead person buried in a forest did little to prove the contrary.
A little girl, huh? Conan immediately remembered those bright red eyes he had found staring at him that other time where he had… been slightly disoriented ─ not lost ─ at the woods. Obviously, it hadn't been a ghost ─ he hadn't believed it, not even for a second, no matter how badly Ai wanted to tease him about it. But to think she's been living there, all this time…
Alas, it explained little, in comparison to all the mysteries it left in its wake. A secret makes a woman, woman. That screamed Vermouth, loud and clear despite the fact that letters made no sound at all. So Vermouth, under the pseudonym of 'Arty' gave her a rusty old diary to give it to… He squinted his eyes at the last line he had read, a brilliant detective who was bound to appear? Seriously, what's this?
His forehead scrunched in a frown. Ten Little Soldier Boys. They do have a thing for children's songs, huh? He couldn't help but wonder what that meant ─ provided that it actually had a meaning at all, to begin with.
"It will take a while for Tantei-san to decipher everything, and sadly, we can do nothing about it. I heard he pulled out an all-nighter and figured out a good chunk of it, though.
Is it a detective thing, I do wonder. Don't learn from his, or Meintantei's, example ─ you're still a growing little detective. You still need all your sleep hours if you don't want to remain a midget forever. You're eight and still pocket-sized, so I'm naturally worried about you."
"Your point?" left Conan's lips in an irritated grumble. Interesting how the thief managed to be just as infuriating as he was in first person ─ was what he would have said, had he not been on the receiving end.
"Meitantei is worried as well ─ and I'm not specifically talking about your height. He hasn't told me anything, but I can tell. I'm a magician, at the end of the day, and I'd be a lousy one if I couldn't read a face or two.
You're a detective, Tantei-kun. One of the most challenging I've ever been both blessed and cursed to encounter. Your insight, your intellect; in order to defeat those crows, we'll need all we can get from it. I believe that keeping you at arm's length from this case is the worst mistake we could ever commit.
Meitantei didn't agree to it ─ understandable, considering. In fact, I'm certain he won't be pleased to find out I'm writing these words to you, but he's clearly scared.
Scared for you, for what kind of awful memories would surface the more you dive into it."
Atop his head, the dove had put her head down for a nap, no doubt lulled by the silence of a room occupied by nobody but a child, quiet enough to blend in with the furniture. The words stood firm despite the blinking of his eyes, despite a part of him wanting to scowl at it and be offended by everything ─ still, he felt himself unable to do such a measly thing.
"He's your older brother, and no doubt, he wants nothing but to protect you."
Instead, his hold slackened, eyes softened. Of course he does. Conan had gotten that point drilled into his head as it was ─ even if this reality was nothing he really wanted, something that worried him, frightened him. More than anything else.
Perhaps there was a reason why people keep telling him he was a lot more like Shinichi than he would be comfortable to admit.
"It's because of that it would probably be best not to say a word further. For the noblest course of action would be to apologize for my imprudence, and politely ask you never ever to inquire about this case again…
So, anyway, are you up to a sneak peek?"
His eyelids fluttered away, eyebrows shooting up.
A sneak peek? What-
Not even pausing long enough to finish his own line of thought, the little detective inched forward, as if that would allow him to see any better. The rest of the text was in a different color altogether, written in red ink as opposed to the black his eyes had gotten used to. The differences had not been by chance, it became evident the moment he started reading.
It was… something else. Something that, for some reason, made the temperature in the room decrease a few degrees, and his lungs, for the entire length of a skipped heartbeat, forgot they were supposed to breathe in and out.
"It all started with Dad's death.
By itself, one could say there was nothing extremely interesting about it. He didn't go down in a shower of bullets to protect an innocent child, nor did he pass on surrounded by his loved ones after enjoying a long, meaningful life. He choked on rice while trying out Mom's new recipe one day, leaving his children alone in this world with a mother full of regrets and fake smiles, and a frail old man whose heart would never stop bleeding for the son he would never see again.
Dad lived his life in the most boring, unremarkable way there could ever be. Therefore, I suppose I should have expected him to leave in the dullest way available.
As I'm writing this, however, I can't seem to get rid of the impression that this is where everything began."
And even as his senses gradually came over to him with a long inspiration, a familiar memory wafted its way to his mind, those hands dancing, fluttering ─ and that laugh ─ threatening to engulf him whole if he so much allowed them to. But he closed his eyes, taking a moment to chase them away before he could be lost in those memories, because he couldn't.
As KID said, he was a detective. And as a detective, he needed to find the truth ─ something he would never achieve if he kept running away from it and straight into the arms of panic and despair.
That being said, there isn't much to read into this yet. Except that Vermouth, if he were to assume she wrote the diary, had a father once which… wasn't as enlightening as it may seem. A father that died choked on rice, leaving behind a broken family. Which was a tragedy on its own, yet not of the kind he had yet to hear about.
But it was a step forward. In the right direction, Conan found himself hoping. We might have to wait on what Hakuba-san figures out later, but I think we're on the right track.
As the author behind this mysterious diary said, this was where everything began.
The beginning of the end, hopefully.
Snowy was simply too comfortable on him, and disturbing her was a bit too much for his heart to handle. For that reason, and that reason only, he refused to plop back onto the bed, exhausted beyond comprehension, even though he had not moved a finger from his spot.
But he supposed KID deserved a response ─ yes, KID. He had to admit he had done a good job, going behind his overly protective brother to fill him into what he had been doing.
It was when he moved over to grab a pen or something, when he stopped, and blinked for the eleventh time in these past fifteen minutes.
Huh, there's another page attached…
A shuffle of paper later, he was back at staring, eyes wide enough to pop out of his eye sockets.
First, he caught KID's signature doodle, somewhere at the end of the page. It was after that, and only then, that he really, really, read what the magician had sent over.
And still, he couldn't believe this was happening at all.
"May we start over from the beginning?
Once again, let us reconvene. This is an invitation for you, the greatest, smallest rival I have ever had the pleasure of facing off against.
Returning from the clutches of death, this phantom of a thief shall come back. When the moon reaches three quarters of its original radiance, I will descend from the heavens and steal it; the loudest, most dazzling 'Bravo!' that has ever escaped your lips.
Shall we return to those old simpler times? You, me; the two of us, engaging in a breathtaking battle of wits. Detective and thief, magic and logic, which one shall prevail in the end?
Every day in the year but one; every bit of February, April, March ─ you will look over your shoulder and smile at the memory of this mind-blowing, black-stained revival.
─ Kaito KID?"
A/N
CherryGirl 21-6
Yeah, I saw it a while back. It's probably not the best, but I enjoyed it quite a lot either way. I thought the shift from Shinichi to Conan's perspective was a nice detail. But of course, the song was wonderful. It's Mai Kuraki, after all.
And I'm so happy for you, that you finally saw it! Glad that you enjoyed it :)