File One Hundred and Forty-Six: A Black-Stained Revival
"Hm? Sera has a sister?"
"Not sister, cousin."
Even if it wasn't for the huff audible from the other side of the phone, Shinichi's reaction would probably have not changed much. Unsurprisingly, since it was about the third time in a row he had asked questions like these ─ stupid questions, yes, he couldn't deny it.
But what else could he do? How could he ever focus on anything besides the scribbled notes on his lap? Impossible; he had been reading and rereading his own handwritten transcription of what Hakuba had recited over the phone for a few hours now, yet he still hadn't got a clue of what to even think ─ let alone deduce, or worse, forget about.
"Conan-kun doesn't think she is, though."
Well, he supposed that worked. He jerked his head back up, ready to ask what his little brother had to do with all of this.
"He actually confronted her about it," Ran continued, then allowed him a moment to reply.
Or more like, remember what they were talking about in the first place. Shinichi was grateful, even if he didn't voice it.
Conan is nothing but subtle, he thought, rolling his eyes. "What did she say?"
"That she's Sera-san's sister from another domain. Do you know what that means?"
His gaze rose to the ceiling and fell silent. That… explains a lot of things, he mused, even though it didn't, all at the same time. He failed to register when his hand had risen to his chin to stroke it, but he didn't miss Ran calling for him, irritated as though she had been doing it for a while. Maybe she had.
"Oh, sorry. I was a bit distracted."
'A bit' was more than an understatement, but the girl decided not to call him out on that, which was weird at best. All she did was sigh, perhaps for the fifth time since they started this conversation, and went quiet again.
Just for a while, though. "Say, Shinichi," she began. It struck him as odd how faintly it had been uttered, as if she was hesitant ─ but Ran wasn't Ran if she was afraid to speak her mind, so he didn't know what to expect. "This may sound stupid, but…"
"But?"
"Don't you get the feeling that we have met them before? Sera-san and Mari-chan, I mean." He didn't get to reply, beaten by Ran as she hastily added, "Mari-chan said she only moved to Japan about a month ago… But for some reason, every time I look at any of them… I swear, I can hear the sound of-"
"Waves."
She halted, checking with her brain that she had heard the right thing, then screeched, "You too?!"
And again, silence. Normally, he would naturally be worried, and maybe a little scared, at the groan that reached his ears. As it was, however, he barely even registered it ─ his mind was already gone, wandering over to that certain night where Hirai Arthur finally confronted Sera Masumi.
Sera, who had investigated witnesses Hirai had tried to protect, but ceased fire once he admitted being a detective. Someone he had chosen to trust even though she, who clearly reciprocated that feeling, refused to work with him. Akai-san's younger sister, even though he had yet to communicate his findings to anyone at all. The more information he gathered of her, the less clear the panorama was.
Though he had seen her smile before; a Cheshire cat grin that stretched all over her face, complete with a canine tooth sticking out that was strangely familiar somehow.
And all those times, just like Ran, it would caress his ears ─ the gentle rippling of waves over the shore.
"I'm not sure about that girl you mentioned," Shinichi muttered after a while. "Mari, you said?"
Ran made an affirmative sound. "You haven't met her yet, though." This time, it was her time to pause, seemingly thinking for a bit, before adding, "Maybe if you see her…"
Shinichi raised an eyebrow. "Hey, what are you thinking about?"
"Now you want to know what I'm thinking about?" He didn't answer, and that made her laugh. "That's what I thought."
He pretended to sigh, though it was a little difficult, being honest ─ at least, through this communication medium, Ran wouldn't see the corner of his lips curving despite himself. Though she might have known, anyway. Somehow, Ran always knew.
Surprised by an unusual beep to his ear, Shinichi glanced over to the display. For a moment more than necessary, he felt himself halt, and wondered if the girl on the other side of the line would finally get fed up with him and hang up on the spot ─ another of the advantages over proper, face-to-face communication, he supposed. You couldn't break a nose over the phone. Yet.
And he wasn't sure he was even talking about Ran, either. Depending on what his new caller may have learned, from sources he wasn't sure he wanted to know about, he could fit that description as well.
Karate-chops were just as damaging as soccer-balls, apparently.
"Conan's calling," he told Ran, his voice stiffer than he intended it to be.
She must have caught up on it, hence her answer, "Good luck."
Just like that, he was left alone, in a silent room with no company but an incoming call he wasn't sure he wanted to answer. Even though there was nothing even remotely logical to feel that way. He had to be overreacting. There was not a single reason for Conan to be mad at him. Not one he was aware of, at least.
Fearful, he answered. He was greeted by silence, though the boy's presence was strong as always, even though a phone.
Conan started off with a sigh.
"I already considered you worthy of your title of the biggest idiot this planet has ever conceived," he said in a plain voice. "But somehow, you continue to exceed my expectations."
No doubt, he must have heard about it. Shinichi closed his eyes shut, bracing himself for what was to come.
"Would you tell him I said that?" Conan said, and Shinichi blinked. "That stupid phantom thief of yours."
The older detective paused, considering his words. "I could put him on the line."
His little brother scowled, as if disgusted by the mere idea, which was… understandable, somehow. Though literally everything in this conversation remained shrouded in mystery, he supposed it was nice he understood anything at all.
"I swear," Conan drawled in a growl. "If I find out you have anything to do with this…"
"I don't think I'm following…"
"Tell him not to use his doves as messaging pigeons ─ it's so outdated that it's dumb. And don't get me started on the bit about dyeing them black for no good reason but dramatics ─ which isn't a legitimate reason, either. Just makes you look stupid."
He heard the flick of paper, followed by the boy clearing his voice.
"All of that, just to send me this…"
"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?"
Brilliant blue eyes blinked twice before squinting. He hummed, his own breath warm against his skin as he drew the piece of paper closer for examination, but clearly, he found nothing at all.
What was that guy trying to pull out? Conan certainly wondered, probably not for the first time, yet the truth still stood. This was his signature, his doodle at the end of the page ─ and what was that thing with the 'black stained revival', anyway?
He couldn't… be thinking of…
Conan shook his head rapidly. Even someone like him wouldn't risk so much for no reason at all. Probably.
With him, it was better not to think that much, he decided. But it wouldn't hurt to take another look at the note, right? Just in case he was wrong, he supposed ─ and absolutely not because his hands were trembling, or because the corner of his lips tugged upward as he scanned through the whole thing.
Right from the start, Conan noticed the message was telling him to 'start over from the beginning', which, by itself, wouldn't make much sense at all. Unless, of course, it was a hint ─ something to decipher this thing, he found himself hoping.
The best he could do was to go back to the beginning of each paragraph. The first letter of each sentence…
'M', 'O', 'R', 'S' and 'E'.
Conan drew back, eyes slightly wide with surprise ─ he didn't expect it to work on his first try. Morse code? Well, that was definitely a step forward ─ out of what distance he was supposed to trek down, he had absolutely no idea. For starters, there had to be something there to interpret, for him to use morse code on.
The third paragraph found Conan scrambling to look for his phone, lost somewhere in this chaos of a room, and finally, he fished it from where it had been buried under his futon covers. Less than a second afterward, he had to put it down with a dejected sigh.
He had expected it wouldn't be this easy, and that they wouldn't get a last-quarter moon well until November, at the latest ─ because that was what KID must have been referring to, right? And if experience had taught him something, Conan knew for a fact that the magician wouldn't wait that long.
But last-quarter was the seventh moon phase. He filled the number 7 in his little notebook for future use, as the clue KID might be nudging him to.
Alongside the letter B, because that chief thief had the nerve to use that kind of clue again ─ the word 'Bravo', or 'B' , was used over wireless communication services, obviously. What happened with this guy's inexistent creativity, anyway? This was lame, decided Conan.
That being said… What now? he had wondered. Even if he were to write 'B' and '7' in morse code, it wasn't like he could figure out the rest with nothing but a bunch of dots and dashes. Obviously, there had to be something more. Here, in this text-
That was when he realized it; the fourth paragraph. 'Detective and thief', 'magic and logic' ─ and naturally, the word 'two' he had used before, which he might as well have bolded and underlined because he seemed to be desperate to get his attention to it. Maybe, he didn't only have to use morse code.
'Simpler', KID had said. Simpler… Easier… Basic?
Two… Two…
Conan's eyes grew wide with realization. Binary code.
Lips curved into a satisfied smirk, eyes glinting like they hadn't in quite a while. All he had to do was turn it into binary code, right? Turning dots into zeroes, and dashes into ones… Then, he could translate it into a decimal number, and then…
His hand stopped scribbling to raise it for his eyes to contemplate his work better.
B → ─ • • • → 1000 → 8
7 → ─ ─ • • • → 11000 → 24
So, the 24th day of the eighth month it was ─ August 24th. Tomorrow.
Which left out an important clue remaining, and Conan leaning in further in his attempt to dissect it. He still did not know where it would be, but it had to be there, in that chunk of text.
'Every day of the year but one' ─ the lack of sense in that sentence made it suspicious as hell in Conan's eyes. It could be referencing the total of days in a year minus one, which would be either 365 or 364. Though he was willing to bet it meant 364, because normally a year had 365 days to begin with, so KID shouldn't have gone through all the trouble to specify the 'but one' part.
Turning it into morse code and then binary returned another decimal number, so it clearly had to be different for this one. Conan sighed out loud, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. His head was beginning to hurt, a certain headache he hadn't suffered for a long while ─ one that he attributed to him, and only him.
Wait, he had said 'look over your shoulder'? Look backwards, in other words ─ start backwards. Perhaps, if he turned 364 into binary and then morse code…
'Every bit of February, April, March'… With 'bit', was he actually trying to refer to 'digit' when he worked in binary? The months weren't named in order, so it was definitely on purpose. February was '2', April '4' and March '3'.
That being said, he only had one number to work with. How was he supposed…
Oh, he didn't have to use '364', but '3', '6' and '4', separately. If he wrote '3' using two bits, '6' using four, and '4' using three bits… Then turned the numbers in binary to morse, then he should be able to get letters!
His smile grew in anticipation.
3 → 11 → ─ ─ → M
6 → 0110 → • ─ ─ • → P
4 → 100 → ─ • • → D
Then smoothed out, eyelids falling lower as he muttered, for his ears only to hear, a rather plain,
"What?"
Conan paused for a moment so short it was almost imperceptible.
"That's what I said, actually," he told his brother, his voice low and with a hint of irritation ─ of the I-kinda-want-to-strangle-someone variety, unfortunately. Who it was aimed to, exactly, Shinichi wasn't sure he even wanted to identify, though he had a good idea.
He could understand, however, and would probably reciprocate, had his brain been functioning correctly at the moment. MPD, Metropolitan Police Department. Was that guy trying to pull out a heist in the middle of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters?
"What the hell is wrong with him?!" Conan screeched over the phone.
Yeah, no idea here, either.
"And what does he even want to steal there, anyway?" the boy carried on the rant he had apparently fallen into. Shinichi didn't dare to stop him. "I can't think of anything valuable enough to risk it, let alone a jewel. What's he after? Detective Sato's non-existent engagement ring? Detective Shiratori bento-box? Inspector Megure's hat?"
"Well…"
"What, you know?!" Conan all but screamed in his ear. "What's it? Hey, tell me already!"
"That's-"
"That's cheating, Tantei-kun."
All of a sudden, he couldn't feel his phone pressed against his face any longer. He couldn't, however, say he couldn't hear his little brother's voice either, because it would be a blatant lie. Even from so far away, he could still hear him, spluttering and screaming all the same from the intercom.
The only difference was that he wasn't holding onto it anymore, stolen by that one thief with the face-splitting grin. He didn't let him finish either, mercilessly cutting the call short and throwing the phone back over his shoulder.
Shinichi barely even caught it. He glared accordingly, even though it wasn't effective.
The detective gave up easily, turning his attention to the phone in his hands. He could perfectly picture the expression that his younger brother must be making right now, and Shinichi was torn whether to be amused or scared by it.
"What's this about a heist?" Shinichi asked him, gracing the magician with a stern look. "This isn't what we agreed on."
Kuroba waved his hand at him. "I'm not planning on it becoming one. It'd draw too much attention."
The response tugged at Shinichi's eyebrows. But far from stealing a speckle of his ever-fleeting attention, the other teenager strolled across the room he had so brazenly invaded. Just before leaving, however, he stopped in tracks, and there he remained; idle at his doorway.
Shinichi did not move either, nor did he make a single attempt to disturb the silence that had settled in there.
A silence that Kuroba had no qualms about shattering; in an unusually soft, almost inaudible,
"But if it does turn out to be one… I want my rival to be there to witness it."
It wasn't until half-way through the following morning that it fell on Conan that KID hadn't specified which hour he would do his thing.
He wasn't doing anything extremely relevant when that occurred to him, just making his way back home after a long fifteen minutes of pointless exercising at the school grounds. Walking, because apparently having the Professor driving kind of beat the purpose anyway, alongside Ai a little away from the group, and keeping half an ear to the conversation that flowed around.
Even though he was right there with them, his mind kept on drifting to the letter he had received just the other night. Kaito KID and his glorious return in the middle of Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department HQ. Impressive. Although he couldn't decide if it was impressively daring, or impressively stupid, he could make a guess.
Usually, he pulls his heists at night. He had a marked preference for showdowns under the moonlight, and showing up in general. Which, while obnoxious to the point of the extreme, probably served him to pin it down.
Sunset is at 6:30 PM today, or so his phone was telling him. I'll drop by seven and wait for about an hour. If I don't get a sign of him by then, then I'm out. I refuse to waste another second on my life in that stupid-
"Why are you glaring at your phone like that?"
His attention brisked away from his screen, Conan found himself blinking at Genta's raised eyebrow ─ and wondering when they had stopped walking to turn back around, or when he, Conan, had stopped at all. He laughed awkwardly, quietly slipping his phone back into his pocket. Which did nothing but to earn inquiring glances for all four of them. Professor Agasa's was of plain confusion, on the other hand.
Ayumi snapped out of it fast by shaking her head.
"Surely Conan-kun agrees with me!" She pounced on him. Conan jumped back, startled. "You do, right?!"
"Eh, uh..."
He was tempted to agree, just in case, but Ayumi caught on to it before he could decide on an answer. She puffed out her cheeks, raising her fisted hands over her chest and looked at him as if he could read the situation from her gaze alone. Needless to say, he was drawing a blank.
"Ayumi-chan wants to go back." Mitsuhiko took on the job of filling him in, when it became clear that she wouldn't. "Back to school, to check something out."
"Check what out?"
Mitsuhiko's eyes flickered everywhere but his face. Odd.
"The letters!" Ayumi all but screamed from mere inches from Conan's face. Out of excitement or exasperation, he didn't know, but he made sure to step back again, and hope that he got to keep his personal space for five additional seconds this time. "Maybe Ai-chan's secret admirer left another one and we don't know a thing about it!"
Several thoughts sparkled into life within Conan's mind realm, too many to be counted separately without losing sight of the rest. About how he had absolutely forgotten about these love letters Ai had supposedly been receiving, about how Mitsuhiko had flinched for no reason Genta could wrap his head around, about how Ayumi was looking so intensely at him as if awaiting a response he wasn't sure how to give her, about how Ai's silence was deafening despite her deep stare boring holes through his soul-
"Huh?" was what he went with.
Ayumi gave him a plain, disturbingly Ai-esque stare. It wasn't quite the reaction she had been seeking, clearly.
"Don't bother," Ai said, calmly. A small smile posed on her lips as she turned to her female friend. "I can't think of anybody who would willingly spend another minute of their life in school during summer vacation to leave a letter. One that's likely not to be read until school starts again."
"Right?!" Genta exclaimed, nodding his head vigorously. "That has to be criminal behavior!"
Conan wasn't sure if it counted as criminal, but it had to be some sort of psychopathy trait. Because Ai was probably right, there couldn't be any kid of their age that would do that sort of thing. Otherwise, he didn't think he would want to meet a person like that ─ they sounded bad news, thought the boy with a shiver.
The school grounds lay a few meters ahead, children of all ages flowing in lively groups like currents in a river that stretched out of the gates and beyond. An intrusive thought made him pause, the strange urge to go against the flow and into the school, if for nothing but a sudden twinge of curiosity that struck so suddenly that halted his step.
"Do you want to check it out, Conan-kun?"
Conan turned abruptly at the voice, and found that everyone else had resumed their way back home. Everyone but him, and Ayumi's inquisitive eyes fixated on him. It took him a whole second to recognize he was being talked to, and another to register what was being said.
But the warmth on his cheeks did not take long to rise.
"Of course not," he replied. Maybe a little too quickly, but he deemed it a good enough answer.
Ayumi stared at him, then raised her eyebrows. "Conan-kun is a lousy liar."
He wanted to ask ─ more than one question, or ten ─ but Ayumi giggled at his face. Beaming at him in a way he couldn't identify, she spun on her heels, and rushed to wrap her arms around Ai's.
Such was the scene he found himself staring for the remainder of his way home. Purple and pink bumped into each other as Ayumi pulled her closer; two dolphin keychains grinning as if enjoying each other's company.
Conan's head rose to the sky, eyes pleading with whatever was there to listen.
Please, don't let there be two of them.
Not that it had ever worked before, though. He hoped that, just this time, someone out there heed his words and did anything, because he didn't think he would take it.
Especially tonight, when migraines were more than one hundred percent likely to happen. Nothing that wasn't exactly unfixable, however ─ his shoes were in perfect condition, his ball dispenser belt charged up and ready to be used; because Conan was sure he would need to blow out some steam at the end of the night, and he had yet to find a target that was nearly as satisfying as that thief's face.
So as he sat there, at Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters several hours after departing from his friends, Conan was hoping this would be worth his time.
It was rather empty at the waiting lobby, despite Beika's reputation as one of the most dangerous neighborhoods where there was a crime happening every five minutes ─ which it may or may not have gained in these two years Conan had been living there.
He supposed it wasn't as weird as it may sound, since barely any of those crimes were actually reported in a police station at all. Nowadays, crime just waited for Conan to run into it, to the point that the boy was almost completely sure that every first division member had Mouri Ran's number registered on their personal phones.
In any case, it was only him there; him, the receptionist, and a random guy talking to him. He hoped that this young guy was actually getting the attention he deserved, but he doubted it, as he could clearly see the receptionist nodding off. Already? Conan shook his head, but not out of disappointment. The guy always looked exhausted and overworked wherever the boy passed by, to the point that he had once considered wishing him some vacations at Tanabata ─ for a grand total of five seconds before running into the murder of the day and forgetting about it.
Conan leaned further away from his seat, squinting his eyes. He couldn't hear what they were saying from over there, nor could he read their lips with the position their heads were turning to. He wondered if it was a deliberate action, from the man talking with the receptionist.
His body complexion certainly checked out… No, that's not it. KID liked to dress up as people he knew, whether to confuse him or show his skills off. Knowing him, however, he should already be here…
Hidden beneath someone else's skin… Probably watching me, laughing from the shadows…
Conan's eyebrow twitched. It seemed some things never changed ─ for the better or the worse.
"Huh? Conan-kun?" Conan jerked his head up and blinked just as owlishly as the woman towering over him. "What are you doing here?"
Logically, there was not a single reason to be startled to run into Detective Sato Miwako in the middle of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters. However, there wasn't a reason for him, Conan, to have stumbled in here for not having thought of a plausible reason for him being there earlier, but that happened too.
Conan hid behind a broad smile. "I was bored!"
Even the guy talking with the receptionist turned to give him an odd look. One that was extremely similar to what covered Sato's face right now.
"All of my friends had something else to do so they can't hang up with me," Conan added, kicking his legs in the air. "And I have nothing at home, but a few books I've already read dozens of times."
That last part was true, to some extent. While it was true that he owned novels he had basically inhaled time and time again, he would gladly do so again.
"But then I realized, the cases you deal with are pretty interesting," Conan said, smiling sheepishly. "I was wondering if you'd let me help out somehow."
Sato didn't reply right away, but from the silence alone, Conan could tell she was actually considering it, much to his own surprise. Eventually, she snapped herself out of it with a smile the small detective couldn't read.
"There is something, actually," she told him. Conan unconsciously sank into the backrest. "Care to talk a little further in my office?"
He really set himself up for this, didn't he?
Though it was tempting, he thought as he reluctantly allowed himself to be led through the endless corridor that would take him to the first division offices, to blame a certain someone for his current predicament. Of course, he did not exactly know what it was, or what it implied for his foreseen future, but his older brother had once told him that a detective shouldn't disregard a hunch, no matter how illogical it may be.
Especially a strong one like this. One that throbbed like a massive migraine, that left him dizzy with the urge of running away while her back was turned.
"Here we are, Conan-kun."
Well, too late. He found that option stripped away from him as she stopped and held the door open for him. Begrudgingly, he walked himself inside, his eyes scanning through the room in search of a potential ally.
Yet, all he found was a bunch of desks all lined up, but nobody around to occupy them. He inwardly cursed the rising criminality rate he might have caused ─ and actually wondered if he had passed his curse over to someone else, because there still was crime happening while he was not there, and now the system was about to collapse because of him.
Worrying, but not as worrying as what was surely going to surface in this 'talk' Detective Sato was beckoning him to. But he smiled regardless as he settled in front of what he assumed to be her desk.
"I don't think I've ever been here…" Conan said, looking around in fake admiration.
That was a lie, he recalled being there at least once; bribed by coffee and cheesecake to give his statements for yet another case. But it allowed him to survey his surroundings once more, seeking an actual way out this time.
There's an air vent, two meters to the right of Detective Chiba's desk. Which would be nice if only he could distract Sato enough to unscrew and crawl in. Not likely.
There was also that large window behind Sato's desk, in front of him. It was wide open, inviting him to jump off and forget about KID, Sato and all this mess. They were on the first floor, too, so there wouldn't be any damage besides, maybe, his own eight-year-old pride when he inevitably had to explain his actions the next time he ran into Sato.
It was tempting, though.
"I hope it's not too cold," Sato said. He must have been staring at the window for a bit too long ─ longingly, he hoped not. "It's stuck and supposedly getting fixed tomorrow…"
"It's fine!" he chirped ─ as if there was a single 'fine' thing about this. "We are in the middle of summer, after all."
Smiling, the woman nodded at him, and let the matter go ─ regardless of Conan's wishes of her leaving it where it was, for some reason he couldn't understand himself. Calmly, she pulled a drawer open, shuffled through her things for a while, until finally she picked something up.
Conan held his breath back when Sato placed a photograph in front of him. Lying flat on the desk, Ayaka stared at him with an expression just as bewildered as the one he was probably wearing.
It went without saying, Conan immediately regretted it ─ both snapping that photo a while back, and accepting that stupid thief's challenge of coming to him on his own free will.
"Do you know this person?"
Is she testing me? he wondered. "Yeah, I met him at the aquarium. This photo is mine, by the way. We hung around until she was taken to the hospital."
He made a conscious pause, eyebrows scrunched together. "Say, Detective Sato."
"What's it?"
"I heard there was an incident there. In the news, they said someone died." He made a show of licking his lips, and muttered, "It was her, wasn't she?"
Her eyes narrowed for a split second before they softened. Conan doubted his lie had been convincing enough, but for as long as Sato believed Ayaka was dead, he could pretend to be distraught and unwilling to give out more information; he could work with that.
"I understand it might have been a little scary for you," she said. He tensed up. "But you shouldn't be lying to the police."
Bright blue blinked, full of confusion. "What do you mean?"
She leaned further over her arms, closer.
"Please, tell me if there's something troubling you." Sato was frowning profusely, but Conan had the feeling this was the most genuine he would see her today. "We'll always have your back, no matter what it is."
Even though her words definitely reached him, and that a proper answer was to be expected, Conan failed to formulate one. And before long, even maintaining eye contact became too much to bear ─ he averted it, fixated it to the tip of his feet until he could think of something.
That didn't happen.
"Can we start over?" Sato said, gentler than before. When he didn't reply, she slowly rose to her feet and added, "With some iced coffee, if you meant."
Apparently, she thought the same trick would work twice on him. Either that, or she felt bad about resorting to pull out the truth from a clearly afflicted, young boy.
He peered up at her and her soft smile. "And cake?"
"Cheesecake, right?" Her smile grew wider. "Get yourself comfortable. I'll be right back, okay?"
Conan nodded timidly, and did not move again ─ at least, until the detective left the room. Then, all semblance of hesitation dispelled from a gaze that narrowed, and he decidedly hopped off his chair.
Maybe he should just run for it and screw the consequences of his actions. The window was still open and beckoning him outside, and besides, he was pretty confident that he could actually think of a formidable excuse if only he was given a moment to breathe. He could just say that Ran had called and told him to go back home, and even if that didn't fly, well, it wasn't as if he could legally be prosecuted for running.
Content with his life decisions, he hurried towards the window and rested his hands over it ─ it was a bit tall, but nothing he couldn't manage. With a little jump, he could probably swing his feet over and then…
He turned to peer over his shoulder, to confirm that nobody was about to burst in to catch him red-handed. Yet, even if he did, indeed, confirm he was alone, he didn't go through it. Instead, his attention was whisked away by something else entirely ─ Sato's desk, specifically.
Conan jerked himself back to reality, rapidly shaking his head.
Priorities, he told himself. Detective Sato, or literally anyone else, could be returning at any moment, thus spoiling any chances for his escape. He couldn't get distracted, not now. No matter how tempting.
That was what he told himself, even as his hand opened the drawer in Sato's desk, completely on its own, a few moments later. But since he had gone and done it already, he supposed he had to be at least quick about it.
He rummaged through her files for a solid second before stepping away. Nothing, he realized with a sigh. Nothing of interest, at least.
Really, what was I even thinking? It seemed to be a recurrent question nowadays. But indeed, he did not have a clue of what he was doing, or where that urge came from, anyway. Perhaps it was his stupid detective curiosity getting the best of him again, so he supposed he should put a stop on it while he could.
But then again, Detective Sato seems to be onto something. And he wasn't talking about their chat just now, especially. He remembered her trying to extract information for him at least once before, concerning the Tanabata incident at that time. It would be weird for her not to act on it, if she was that suspicious…
Could she, just, have disregarded it and turned over a new page until today? No, that didn't sound like her at all. If anything, the thought of her not following on that case at all made it all the more suspicious.
But what could he do? There was nothing on her desk. As it stood now, he had nowhere else to turn to.
Unless…
Next to her, there was yet another desk. There wasn't anything particularly special about it, besides the fact that it was a few centimeters closer than any of the rest, or that the chair was angled so that it faced Sato's, even just barely. Attachment, Conan assumed. This person was someone close to her, he was willing to bet. A smirk grew on his face at the realization.
Found Detective Takagi's desk.
He didn't think much of it when he disregarded Sato's desk to approach the new center of his every attention. In fact, he wasn't positive that he would find something of use, in any case.
They might be close, but that doesn't mean they're in an investigation together-
Conan pulled at the drawer.
But it didn't open. Conan eyed it for a second before realizing it was locked shut and felt himself frown profusely. This should have been, by all means and purposes, the moment where he realized he had threaded too far. Locking a drawer meant someone not wanting a literal kid snooping on their things, for privacy reasons, because there possibly could be sentimental valuable things kept in there.
Ran would probably have told him to leave it alone.
But guess what? She isn't here.
And there was a pen in his pocket that may or may not secretly be a lock-pick created by one Professor Agasa…
It's Detective Takagi's fault, he convinced himself, sticking it inside the lock. He should have known that locking something up was bound to make a perpetrator even curious about what was in it ─ bonus points if said perpetrator was actually an elementary school detective with a lock-pick on his person.
With a soft click, the boy's satisfaction grew exponentially. He would just take a little peek, he told himself, and then he would be back to-
"Masuyama Yuji"
Huh. Okay, maybe he would take a closer look at this.
Because this file, which collected all sorts of information about a name he had never heard about in his entire life, had a photo attached ─ a face that had almost cost him his own life, and his brother's.
Irish. Conan's features hardened at the thought. For some reason, Takagi had been investigating him quite thoroughly. From birth to adoption by one Masuyama Kenzo ─ Pisco, his brain supplied ─ and going as far as to attach his forensic report at the end.
He could barely look at it, yet he forced himself to read it. And then cringed when he got to the part where bite marks were concerned. They were clearly his own doing.
But maybe it wasn't as bad as it sounded, Conan told himself. Takagi was a detective, a member of the Police Force on his own ─ was it really that odd that he had documents like those hanging around at his own desk? Surely all the other files, stacked with this one within that drawer, were just as relevant, even if they had no relation with him, or them.
But just in case, he supposed he could check…
"Nakano Ayaka"
"Kuroba Toichi"
"Kudo Conan"
At that moment, Conan was pretty sure his respiratory system had developed some strange kind of amnesia ─ because no matter what he did, his lungs simply seemed to have forgotten how to draw oxygen. His motor system wasn't working perfectly either; shaky hands clutched onto paper, wrinkling his name ─ his own, real name ─ into oblivion.
Slowly, he breathed out ─ his eyes stinging at the denied need for blinking, jumping over the words imprinted on it. Which weren't a lot of words, naturally, since he had supposedly died at the age of four, leaving little to fill it with. There was a lot about his background, however, about his parents, brother, and what little was known about the incident that supposedly took his life.
Child abduction. A child trafficking ring lead by one Koyama Mamoru ─ origins unknown, killed himself while in prison.
Yeah, sure, thought Conan. Assisted suicide was more likely.
Koyama Mamoru was the identity Vermouth had taken to recover the escaped Miyano Shiho, and Conan's kindergarten teacher. Under that disguise, he had kidnapped him when he threaded a bit too far ─ and tried to release him, not long thereafter. But Rum, who she had been working with, must have discovered him at some point Conan wasn't sure about. Because it had been him, taking on Vermouth's Koyama persona ─ probably to pin the failure to her, the boy assumed ─ who had been caught by the police in the end.
He was shot dead at his cell by Vermouth, as per the boss' instructions. For reasons beyond his own understanding.
Albeit there weren't nearly as many details as he had gathered over the years, there was enough to fill another page on that case ─ there was an article, his older brother in the front after allegedly taking the entire gang down. From the photograph alone, Conan could estimate that he had been in middle school when that happened ─ at that time, he must have just been starting to get himself involved with the Black Organization.
It made him wonder if that trafficker group was but a scapegoat. He would ask later, but he had the feeling he was on the right track.
There's another file. The last one, it seemed ─ he flipped it over. Let's see… What do we-
His eyes flew open. At both the printed writing, and the rest that was scribbled in pencil right beneath it.
Probability of Paternity: 0%
Kudo Conan ≠ Edogawa Conan
Okay, this is just creepy, Conan thought, unable to look away from that innocent piece of paper. Why did it look like someone had 'confirmed' that Kudo Conan and Edogawa Conan were different people through ─ he squinted his eyes ─ a paternity test?!
A recent one, he mentally remarked, paying close attention to the date it was printed out. He absolutely had no recollection of having his DNA taken ─ he would definitely remember it, that being the case. Then, how…?
Not to say, where did they take his father's, for that matter? That was impossible. It had to be forged, because it didn't make sense at all.
It doesn't… right? They wouldn't lie… about something like this, would they?
Conan's mind grew silent, hesitant to answer that question.
But the sound of the door opening woke it up instantly, sending it barrelling into awareness, and sprung back into action. In a heartbeat, he had shoved the documents inside, shoving the drawer closed just in time for the imminent,
"Conan-kun, what are you doing here?"
That, against what he would have expected, wasn't quite as feminine sounding. Of course, such was his luck that he found himself face-to-face to none other than that one certain detective whose privacy he had violated without an ounce of hesitation.
There at the doorway stood Detective Takagi Wataru in the flesh. The sight provoked a sheepish grin in him, and a new religious facade he never had possessed within; with all his might, the boy prayed that Takagi didn't realize he was slowly moving away from that desk.
Even if he did see it, Takagi did not comment on it. Conan wasn't sure how to feel about it.
"I'm waiting for Detective Sato," Conan said, casually as though nothing had happened. "Said she wanted to talk to me for some reason."
Reluctantly, the boy returned to the seat he had once occupied and tried not to look too disappointed. Half-baked as it was, it was a good plan ─ even though calling it a 'plan' was probably an insult to any other plan he had ever created, no matter how lousy they were.
In any case, he ended up losing his chance. Whether it was worth it or not, it was up to discussion.
Takagi made his way into the room with a sigh, his attention brisked away by the broken window. In doing so, the view of the door was freed for him to stare at.
"Is this still broken?" Takagi complained.
"I don't know." Conan shrugged. "I mean, you could try opening it and see."
Surprisingly, he did, as proved by the grunt that reached him. Conan buried his head on the palm of his hand and refused to look to avoid death by second-hand embarrassment.
"I wonder what she wants from me," Conan muttered, adamant in his clueless little child act ─ he wondered if it would still be effective on him, both because of the almost-two-year worth of crime cases they had experienced together, and because of that creepy investigation he apparently had on him.
Conan turned to him. Takagi was still in front of the window, glancing back at him from over his shoulder.
"You don't think I'm in trouble, do you?" Conan asked, an awkward smile on his lips.
For whatever reason, it made Takagi laugh.
"I wouldn't worry about it," he said, in between a good-hearted chuckle. His gaze went back to the window, allowing it to lose itself in the distance. "Miwako-san can be scary, but she has a good heart. And a special spot for children, if you believe it."
Conan paused, blinked twice, then lowered his head. Had Takagi been looking, he would have seen his features fading into the light of lenses that reflected the silver moon glow.
"I see," Conan muttered. "I guess I'll have to believe you. Since you're the one who knows her best."
Takagi's ears burned red. "Wh-What are you saying, Conan-kun?"
"I'm right, aren't I? She wouldn't have even agreed to date you otherwise."
Even though the police detective fell silent, his arm rose ─ if only to scratch the back of his head, with yet another nervous chuckle. "I… suppose you're right," he said, with a dreamy sigh. "Miwako-san is… something else altogether. I can't believe she agreed to-"
He didn't consciously stop himself, but rather, he was forcefully cut off in the middle of his sentence. A ridiculous squeak took its place, born from the notion that he could easily have lost his head had he been standing more inches further to the left.
His blood froze in his veins as he watched a soccer ball bounce somewhere out in the distance ─ once, then twice, before deflating like a balloon popping out.
"May I suggest a change of careers?" Takagi spun around to find Conan innocently peering up at him, with his hands behind his back and his head slightly tilted to one side. "You'd definitely make your name known as the greatest clown!"
Takagi's shock dispelled in a blink of an eye, his eyebrows raising over his hairline. Hardly caring about his unamused reaction, the kid hummed and pressed his index finger to his cheek.
"Though I doubt you'd fit as an ordinary clown," he chuckled, and suddenly, the sound wasn't as sweet and innocent as moments prior. "Because you're not just a clown, you're the entire circus!"
"Okay, that's enough." Takagi held up his hands, a look of utter annoyance so foreign to those features. "What did I do to deserve this?"
Conan looked as though there wasn't enough time in their mortal lifespan to explain that question, so he settled with the next right thing.
"You're just too funny," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You thought that Detective Takagi would have the guts to call Detective Sato by her first name? Let alone asking her out, for crying out loud!"
The person in front of him stared at him dead in the eye.
When he opened his mouth, the voice, though coated with bewilderment, was different. "They're not together?"
"Not with the chairs here set two meters apart." Even though they did face each other, if slightly, Conan neglected to say out loud.
Similarly, the impostor in front of him didn't say much at all either, verbally at the very least; his face contorted into a shark-like the detective had seen plenty of times, in a different face altogether.
"I have to admit I feel a little disappointed," Conan said, tucking his hands inside his pockets. "I came here for a heist, but this is hardly it. KID the phantom scammer."
Looking none the afflicted, KID laughed. "I certainly cannot deny it," he said. He raised his arm, and seemed to find some semblance of amusement at how the little detective's eyes followed the motion. "This is not a heist."
His fingers stretched, their slender figure framed by the moon behind.
"This is a magic show, my dear Tantei-kun."
Snap. Thud.
Conan's mouth was hanging open when the door behind him slammed open, entirely on its own. And for a moment, he forgot himself and stared, in pure disbelief, until he remembered he had a thief to catch.
Well, maybe not catch ─ though concussing lightly was probably acceptable.
In any case, said magician had already his back turned on him, and just as Conan readied himself to shoot another ball, KID climbed up the doorframe.
And thus Conan saw him. His hands stretched over at his sides, Takagi's worn down shoes barely even gracing ─ no, realized Conan, much to his bewilderment, they weren't touching ground.
Bathed by his ever faithful's silvery glow, the magician under the moonlight grinned as he floated in his spot.
"Watch carefully, Tantei-kun," the magician said, motioning over to himself. "No strings attached. No shady helicopters, either."
Despite himself, Conan could not help himself. He stared, hard, squinting to find anything to prove the contrary. But no matter how hard he looked, his search delivered no results.
The position of the light would have allowed him to see anything, no matter how thin. But this… there was nothing.
But suddenly, there was ─ Conan instinctively covered his face when a puff of smoke filled the entire room. It eventually dispelled, parting as to allow his eyes to witness the magician that, now having discarded Takagi's disguise, continued to levitate at the windowsill.
A raven black cape fluttered on with the wind, and a gloved hand tipped his top hat further over vibrant blue, twinkling under a monocle.
KID's lips curved into a smirk. Little did his favorite detective realize, his expression was but a reflection of his.
A/N
Raises1005118
I'm not sure I will, because there's a lot to cover as it is. I'd like to, however, because of his connection with Hiro, but I don't know…
F.C. Meyer
Well, that's a tough question for sure… But if I had to choose one, I agree it'd be the Purple Nails one, though I enjoyed the Blue Wonder heist a lot, too. It probably has to do with the fact we have his point of view in his own anime.
About the ending, I thought the same thing. I was wrong, but it was nice.
(Spoilers for Movie 26 ahead)
CherryGirl 21-6
Yes, I finally saw it! Thank you for letting me know, because it's probably one of my favorite ones so far. Totally worth the wait :)
I saw them, including the one with the horse and loved that expression! Sad she doesn't pull that smile often… There's another one, I think, where they're buying souvenirs. It took me a lot longer than necessary to realize the one she's holding is the same shown at the ending credits xD
Watched the teaser for movie 27, and I have to agree. I'm still looking forward to it, mostly because Kaito and Hattori in a single movie seems exciting, but I feel like I'd be a lot more hyped if movie 26 hadn't happened.
BT
Absolutely loved the role they gave Kir in this movie! I didn't see it coming, but I'm definitely not complaining. It was about time they gave her a little more of the spotlight, she's such a wonderful character!
I agree with you in everything you say. I think it's been a while ever since Akemi was mentioned, and seeing her being remembered through Ran was perfect (even though it has happened in the series, I think it's been quite awhile). And before that, when she was crying when remembering Akemi and the part with Naomi's father being shot was so sad… If I didn't understand things wrong, he did survive in the end, and I'm so glad for that :)
And don't get me started on the underwater scene, most specifically the part where they're surfacing. I absolutely loved it, and no doubt it's also my favorite part of it all. Especially when Kimi ga Ireba started playing, it was so emotional. It was perfect to me.
I gotta say, I'm kind of tempted to put it in here, but I'd have to rearrange some things in the plot for it to work ─ maybe somewhere closer to the end of this story, is what I'm thinking right now. And I may or may not borrow that idea from you if I do xD. I don't know, I'll have to think it through a little more.