It had been four years since Conan and Ai last shrunk, and two years when Conan found out that he developed a full immunity to the antidote. Ai has no reason to turn back into Shiho and Shinichi fell into a dark hole. He broke his first love's heart, nothing mattered anymore. Even with the takedown of the Black Organization, M ourning the loss of everything he held dear, he wanted to disappear, he wanted to be a no one. His secrets became a heavy weight on his shoulders so one day he broke the news to Ran that he wouldn't be living with her anymore. And that's when, after over two years of silence between them, he saw the love of his life break in painful tears.
"D…don't… I lost Shinichi, I can't loose you too." Ran sobbed painfully hugging the 8-year old Conan Edogawa. It was selfish of her to put the burden onto a child, but Conan was the only string that reminded her of her childhood friend and first love, Shinichi Kudo.
The pain and guilt panged against his chest like rusted blades eating through him while Ran cried for both of them. This moment woke something in him. Even with the dark webs still entangling his paining heart, an esteem long gone like the ghost of his old self. At least, he thought to himself, that he would make Ran happy as Conan even if it meant to leave her alone at night and disappear into Conan during the day. All he could do now was hope that time would help heal their wounds.
Conan shook his head in an attempt to escape the painful memories and redirects his attention to the girl beside him as they returned home from school. It was their last year in elementary, and Conan knew how he felt about having to stay in school for another year. But he never tried to understand how she—a scientist who had earned college degree at the age of thirteen —experienced life.
For some two years wouldn't be enough to change oneself, but when he had Ai Haibara always next to him, he naturally came into acceptance to his current identity. She miraculously improved his mental health, grounded him when he got ignorantly cocky, and healed his broken heart.
As they turned a corner, they unexpectedly saw Ran laughing with an unfamiliar college student. The man was tall and handsome and it was evident that they were having a great time together; but when Ai stole a glance at Conan, there wasn't any trace of resentment or bitterness on his face. He seemed calm yet slightly sad, which showed that seeing Ran with someone else stirred a complex array of emotions.
As Ran and the young man walked away, Ai turned to Conan, her expression laced with concern. "Edogawa-kun, are you okay? Seeing Mouri-san with someone..."
Conan paused, his gaze lingering in the direction Ran had gone. Then he turned to Ai, offering a small, resigned smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's... it's good to see her happy. I made peace with the fact that things between Ran and me couldn't be the same a long time ago. Holding onto those feelings... it wouldn't be fair to her. Or to me."
Ai studied him, the complex feelings evident in his eyes. "But it still hurts, doesn't it?" she asked gently.
Conan sighed, a hint of sadness in his voice. "A part of me will always care for Ran, but I've let go of the idea of us being together. I can't stay stuck in the past. Life moves on, and so should I."
"Kudo-kun…" Ai rarely mentioned Conan's deadname which made Conan jerk his head in surprise and turn his head towards the strawberry blond girl next to him. "You have matured, a lot. I'm glad you see things in this perspective. It takes a man to come in peace with his true feelings." Ai smiled in return, his ability to let go, to wish Ran happiness even if it wasn't with him. She smiled softly at the figure next to her, his words were the evidence of his healing.
Conan was shocked to hear Ai compliment him. It was rare of her to acknowledge and verbalize a positive aspect of him. He moved closer to her, bumping his shoulder with hers. "And you became sweeter, Haibara." Conan teased making the girl next to him hide her face with light hint of red strings forming on her delicate cheeks. "Whatever…" was all she could whisper and as they continued their walk, Ai felt a sense of hope. A small "What If" started painting a picture in her dull life, that one day, she can have a space in his heart. And little did Ai know, that Conan indeed had opened a small crack in his window that leads to his heart.
And from that moment the chapter of this transformation began, Ai felt a shift in Conan's behavior around her. His glances no longer indifferent, his smiles seemed softer around her and more frequent, and there was a softness in his voice whenever he addressed her. These subtle changes left Ai feeling both elated and confused, unsure of what exactly Conan's actions meant.
Chapter 1: His Voice
Conan's voice, once marked by a certain detachment – a detective's need to remain objective – had begun to take on a new quality when he addressed her. It was as though the timbre of his words softened, wrapping around her in a melodious embrace. Where once his sentences were concise, functional, now they lingered, imbued with a warmth that resonated in Ai's chest.
As days turned into weeks, this change became more pronounced. When they discussed cases or delved into scientific or political debates, Conan's words flowed like a carefully composed symphony, each note – each word – seemingly played for her ears alone. His inquiries about her well-being, previously perfunctory, now held a genuine concern that made her heart flutter unexpectedly.
Conan's voice would come, not in a rush, but in a soothing cadence, as if he were less concerned with the answer and more with the act of asking, of opening a line of communication that went beyond the words themselves.
This new tone of his carried an undercurrent of something unspoken, a sentiment that Ai couldn't quite decipher yet felt compelled to understand. It was as if each word he spoke was a clue, a piece of a larger puzzle she was yet to solve.
One evening, as they sat under the starlit sky, taking a break from the school act, Conan's voice cut through the silence, soft yet clear. "It's nice out here, isn't it, Haibara?" He said looking at her softly.
What puzzled Ai the most was not how much he initiated going out alone, but the why was Conan's using this tone when no one was around? Was it a conscious change, or an unconscious reflection of evolving feelings? The detective in her wanted to analyze, to question, but the woman in her hesitated, afraid of what such inquiries might unravel.
"Haibara?" Her name woke her up from her troubled thoughts. How can his words, simple in their construct, were laden with an emotion that Ai couldn't place. She nodded, her eyes on the stars but her mind on the boy beside her. The tone of his voice, once just an aspect of him that she could decode, had become a mystery in itself, one that Ai found herself increasingly eager to solve.
As the night deepened and their conversation flowed, Ai listened – not just to the words Conan spoke, but to the melody behind them, the subtle shifts in pitch, the gentle cadences, the unspoken emotions they carried. In them, she heard the echoes of change, a riff that spoke of a new chapter unfolding in their lives, a chapter where the unsaid could no longer remain silent.
Chapter 2: His Touch
In the intricate dance of their daily interactions, there was a new, unspoken language developing between Ai Haibara and Conan Edogawa. It was a language of touch, subtle and fleeting, yet laden with meaning. This chapter in their evolving relationship was marked by Conan's increasingly frequent brushes of his hand against Ai's, a gesture both casual and charged with intent.
The change was gradual, almost imperceptible at first. It began with their hands accidentally brushing when passing a book or walking next to each other. Ai initially thought little of it. However, as these instances became more frequent, she couldn't help but notice the pattern emerging.
There was the day in the school's lab when Conan reached over to hand Ai a test tube. Instead of a simple handoff, his fingers lightly grazed hers, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. The contact sent a jolt of surprise through Ai, her eyes flicking up to meet Conan's. His gaze was nonchalant, giving nothing away, but Ai sensed a flicker of something deliberate in that brief touch.
As days passed, these brushes of skin against skin wove themselves seamlessly into their interactions. Each touch was like a whispered conversation, a dialogue that transcended words. Whether passing notes during classes or sharing tools while working on an experiment, Conan's fingers seemed to find ways to subtly connect with hers.
Ai began to anticipate these moments, her senses attuning to the slightest contact. There was a peculiar electricity in each brush, a spark that lingered on her skin long after the touch had passed. Sometimes she wondered if Conan felt it too, if he too was aware of the current that ran between them in those fleeting moments.
One afternoon, as they poured over a collection of the professors new game, Conan pointed out a detail in one of the images. As he did so, his hand gently brushed against Ai's under the guise of reaching for the photo. The touch was brief but deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about its intent. Ai's heart skipped a beat, her eyes meeting Conan's for a split second before averting his eyes and withdrawing his hand.
It was in these brushes that Ai felt a silent communication unfolding between them, a dialogue made of touches rather than words. Each contact seemed to carry a question, a tentative exploration of the space between friendship and something more. It was as if Conan was testing the waters, gauging her response to his subtle advances.
For Ai, these moments became a bittersweet symphony of what-ifs and maybes. They were a reminder of the deepening bond between them, yet also a symbol of the uncertainties that lay ahead. With each brush of Conan's hand, she felt herself being drawn further into an uncharted territory, a place where emotions were complex and the future uncertain.
These instances weren't confined to when they were alone. Even in the mundane moments – walking side by side, sharing a meal, or during the quiet lulls of their detective work – Conan found subtle ways to bridge the gap between them. A light touch on the back as they walked through a crowded street, a quick grasp of her hand to get her attention, each contact seemed to say something he wasn't yet ready to voice aloud.
For Ai, these touches were like puzzle pieces, each one fitting into a larger picture that she was still trying to comprehend. They were comforting yet confusing, filling her with a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. She found herself replaying these moments late into the night, wondering about the intent behind each touch, the emotions hiding beneath the surface of Conan's calm demeanor.
Yet, despite all of this, Ai found herself looking forward to these moments of contact. They were a silent affirmation of the special connection they shared, a connection that was growing stronger with each passing day. In the language of touch, Conan was speaking volumes, and Ai was listening with an open heart.
Chapter 3: His Words
One particularly crisp afternoon, as they walked home together, Ai caught Conan looking at her with a deep, contemplative gaze. It wasn't the first time she had caught him staring, but the intensity in his eyes this time prompted her to speak up.
"Something you like, Edogawa-kun?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and a hint of vulnerability.
Conan, caught off guard by her directness, paused for a moment. He then gave her a small, somewhat shy smile. "Can't I admire you?" he replied softly, his tone carrying a warmth that sent a flutter through Ai's heart.
His unexpected response left Ai momentarily speechless. She had not expected such an open admission, and it made her heart race with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. "Admire me?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," Conan affirmed, his gaze steady on hers. Ai felt a warmth spread through her, a sensation that was both comforting and exhilarating.
The air between them was charged with a new energy, a connection that went beyond friendship and camaraderie. In that moment, Ai understood that the mixed signals Conan had been sending were perhaps not so mixed after all. They were glimpses into his true feelings, revelations of the affection and admiration he held for her.
As they continued their walk, Ai felt a newfound confidence in her steps towards his heart. Conan's admission had opened a door to possibilities she had scarcely allowed herself to dream of. And while the future was uncertain and their circumstances complicated, Ai knew one thing for sure: the bond between her and Conan was special, and it was a bond she cherished deeply.
Chapter 4: His Signals
They are finally in their first year as middle schoolers and the subtle interplay between Ai and Conan evolved, their unspoken language becoming an integral part of their daily interactions.
The brushes of hands, once fleeting and accidental, had become more intentional, charged with an unspoken emotion that neither Ai nor Conan fully addressed. It was as if they were both on the brink of a revelation, teetering on the edge of a precipice that promised a new depth to their relationship.
One crisp evening, as they walked home under a canopy of golden leaves, Conan casually took Ai's hand to help her navigate an uneven stretch of the sidewalk. His grip was firm, yet gentle, and he didn't let go even when the path smoothed out. Ai's heart skipped a beat, the warmth of his hand seeping into hers, sending a flutter of excitement through her. But she couldn't help to be cold as she didn't want to give false hope to her growing feelings. "I can help myself, Edogawa-kun."
"Who said you can't" Conan said innocently. He always knew how to silence her with his seemingly innocent responses that leaves no room to negotiate. 'A detective indeed he is.' Ai thought to herself. And as they walked in silence, their joined hands a statement louder than words. Ai glanced at Conan, noticing a contemplative look in his eyes, as if he were wrestling with a decision. The simplicity of the act, holding hands as they walked, felt both extraordinary and natural, a physical manifestation of the bond they had been silently nurturing.
Later, as they sat in a quiet café, sharing a dessert, Conan's actions became more pronounced. His touches lingered, his glances held a depth of emotion, and his conversations were tinged with a tenderness that was hard to ignore. He would occasionally reach across the table to brush a stray hair from Ai's face, his fingers trailing softly against her skin, leaving a trail of warmth.
Ai, usually so composed, found herself increasingly affected by these gestures. They stirred something within her, a yearning she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge until now. She was acutely aware of Conan's presence, of the way her heart raced at his touch, of the longing that filled her every time their eyes met.
As the evening progressed, the air between them was thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. It was clear that their relationship was no longer just a simple friendship; it had blossomed into something more profound, something laden with potential and fraught with the complexities of their shared pasts.
When it was time to part ways, Conan hesitated, as if reluctant to break the connection they had forged over the evening. He looked at Ai, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, it seemed like he might say something. But instead, he squeezed her hand gently, a silent promise of conversations yet to come.
As Ai lay in bed that night, her mind replayed the events of the day. She realized that what she felt for Conan was more than admiration. It was a deep-seated affection, one that had grown and evolved over the time they had spent together. Conan, with his subtle touches and tender glances, had become an integral part of her life, someone she could no longer imagine being without.
She found herself replaying their interactions over and over, analyzing each word, each glance. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that these weren't mere coincidences or friendly gestures. There was something more, a depth of feeling that had been slowly building between them.
But it was the uncertainty of the 'what ifs' that kept her awake. What if Conan's feelings had changed towards her? What if what she was perceiving was just wishful thinking on her part? And even more daunting, what if Conan did have deeper feelings for her? Where would that lead them, given their complicated circumstances?
These thoughts swirled in Ai's mind, a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The idea of exploring a relationship with Conan was both thrilling and terrifying. Thrilling, because she had come to care for him deeply, his presence a constant in her life, his intellect and bravery qualities she admired. Terrifying, because she knew the risks involved, the potential for heartache and complication.
As she lay there, Ai realized that part of her was afraid. Afraid of opening her heart and facing possible rejection or, worse, causing a rift in their relationship. But another part of her, the part that had dared to be bolder lately, wondered if taking the risk might be worth it.
The night deepened, and Ai knew she wouldn't find the answers lying in her bed. But one thing was clear: the dynamics between her and Conan were shifting, and whether she was ready or not, she would have to confront these changes head-on.
As the first light of dawn crept into her room, Ai made a decision. She would not let fear dictate her actions. After all, that's what Conan always told her, to never run away from her destiney. She would watch and wait, and when the time was right, she would find a way to understand Conan's true feelings. And maybe, just maybe, she would have the courage to reveal her own.
Chapter 5: Her Response
The opportunity presented itself one evening at Professor Agasa's house. They were in the living room, ostensibly working on a project, but the atmosphere was ripe for Ai's new daring approach. With Professor Agasa occupied in his lab and unlikely to interrupt, Ai felt a sense of freedom to act on her intentions.
As Conan focused on his notes, Ai observed him quietly. She admired his sharp intellect and the way his brow furrowed in concentration. Deciding it was time to make her move, she closed her book and turned to face him fully.
"Edogawa-kun," she began, her voice steady and sure, "do you ever think about what our lives would be like if things were different?"
Conan looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. "Different how?"
"If we weren't burdened by our secrets, by our pasts. If we were just regular kids," Ai elaborated, her eyes searching his.
Conan pondered her question, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I guess I haven't allowed myself to think that far. Why do you ask?"
Ai moved closer to him, her heart beating faster with each inch she closed. "Because sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to do normal things that regular kids do. Things like... dating, for instance."
Conan's eyes widened slightly, a hint of realization dawning on him. "Are you saying...?"
"Yes," Ai cut in, her boldness peaking. "I'm saying that maybe we shouldn't let our circumstances stop us from exploring... certain aspects of our lives."
Conan was silent for a moment, processing her words. Then, slowly, a smile crept onto his face. "You might be onto something."
Encouraged by his response, Ai reached out and took his hand. It was a bold gesture, but it felt right. "I don't know what the future holds for us. But I do know that I don't want to have any regrets."
Conan squeezed her hand in response, his own boldness rising to meet hers. "Then let's not have any. Let's take each day as it comes and make the most of it, together."
Their eyes locked, and in that moment, a silent agreement was made. They would explore this new aspect of their relationship, taking risks and breaking away from the constraints that had always defined their lives.
And as the days progressed, their secret relationship became a source of exiting addicting the two pre-teens for a dopamine hit. As they bid their goodbyes to the detective boys, making sure that they are no longer in sight, Conan gripped Ai's hands quickly and smirked.
"Finally, you are mine for the day." He said and he stole a quick peck from her cheek. Ai couldn't help but feel a sense of panic grow in her. She shook her hand out of his grip and walked quickly trying her best to hide her blush away from him.
Conan looked at her annoyingly, he knows that they should be careful, but he liked her way too much to behave or care about peoples' opinions. "You are the one who suggested this!" He said loudly, trying to pick up his pace with her.
"Not in public!" Ai replied matching his voice.
"Then how about we head to my home, no one is there." Conan suggested playfully.
"Pervert!" Ai shouted as she tried to run away from him. But she was no match to the football play. Conan playfully grabbed Ai's waist, turning her to him. "Behave." Ai threatened, but the hands on his chest said a different thing."I' am behaving." He said mischievously. And as an opportunist, Conan couldn't help not to take advantage of his closeness to her. So he closed the gap between them, giving her another quick peck near her lips.
"You are going to get us in trouble." Ai was in a state of euphoria, she still couldn't believe that her first love was finally reciprocating her feeling. What she was longing for in years was no longer a fantasy, but a reality. A dream-like reality, too good to be true.
"I don't care." Conan said as he released her from his embrace and claimed her hand once again. Indeed he was trouble, but he didn't care, he no longer wants to hold of his feelings for her.