Mission Three: A Cool Liar

"Woah! So huge~!"

"Come on, Anya. Don't bother the other passengers."

But as a pink blur darted its way through the tight hallways of the train, it became evident how little of use Loid's words would be. There was no sigh in return, yet the hand rising to message his forehead was a telltale of how aware the man was about the fact. Even if he was reluctant to admit it.

Conan gave him nothing but a brief, inquisitive look as he calmly walked past him.

As an actual teenager, Shinichi had never seriously considered the idea of having kids, and even if he did, it had been nothing but a passing thought that had probably struck once to entertain himself with, not to be reflected upon ever again. However, as he watched Anya excitedly screeching with delay, skipping ahead to get to their seats, and observed the dark circles under Loid's eyes, Shinichi felt a sudden twinge of sympathy.

Yeah. No, thanks.

"Dad! Niichan! Hurry up!"

This time, Loid effectively sighed. Conan let out a dry chuckle in return and plopped down in the seat in front of Anya. He watched her eyes sparkling with something akin to excitement, eagerly taking in the incredibly breathtaking view outside the window ─ even though they had yet to leave the station. Conan couldn't blame her, not really, since she had probably never had the chance to ride a train before.

He lazily propped his head with a closed fist. Unlike her, Shinichi had been in those several times throughout his sixteen years of age, so he couldn't feel the same enthusiasm about it. It wouldn't even be that long of a train ride, or so Loid had mentioned earlier.

As Loid took the seat at his side, opening a newspaper to read in silence, Conan continued to stare boredly at Anya. Seems she has taken a liking to calling me like that, he thought. Niichan, or older brother.

When did I become the older twin, anyway?

Of course, he was the older one by ten years, but she obviously did not know that.

Well, the ten-year gap was pretty much a supposition, not set in stone. I don't even know when she was born. In fact, he knew she was six only because she had told Loid, but come to think of it, was there anything to say she hadn't just lied? Hell, he had lied about it, he couldn't see why it would be different for her.

Squinting behind the glasses that Loid had gotten fixed for him, he studied the girl who sat in front of him, so unusually still he couldn't even see her breathing. I know children are short, but isn't this one too small? he wondered. Smaller than average, at least.

She speaks too immaturely for a six-year-old, doesn't she? Or so he assumed, he hadn't been around any for too long to tell, but it was a little strange, either way.

A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead, surely an obvious result of her running around earlier.

Could she actually…?

His gaze narrowed further, the intensity of his scrutiny increasing dramatically while Anya merely sat there, unmoving.

What would she gain from lying about that? Finally, she moved, if only to collapse back on her seat with an exhausted expression. Conan's head tilted lightly, wondering for a moment what could have possibly drained her so quickly and suddenly. Maybe his intense stare made her uncomfortable, he guessed.

I'm just being stupid. It was his turn to lean back onto his seat, his bored, dulled glance falling onto the buildings zooming past their window. And making up mysteries where there are none…

Dipping his head, Conan heaved out a heavy sigh. I feel like I'm going through some sort of withdrawal, he lamented. Cases. I need cases.

Anything to stimulate his brain, he would take it without batting an eye.

So, he thought he wouldn't be judged too harshly about his next actions, as harmless as they may be. He shuffled a little away from the window and towards the man sitting next to him, then peeked, not as discreetly as he would have preferred, at the words printed on the newspaper.

It lowered quickly enough, allowing Loid to look up and eye him for a moment.

"Do you want to read it?" Loid asked.

Conan wasn't ashamed to admit he nodded vigorously at the offer, nor that he had to restrain himself from snatching the object from a hesitant Loid's hands as it was passed to him. As a child, his access to real-world information would prove to be limited. Better to make use of every chance he got, he told himself.

Granted, Loid did not seem reluctant to give in when asked. In fact, he seemed like the kind that would encourage it. Reinforcing a knowledge-seeking little child like he appeared to be might even be beneficial for his mission, or so Conan supposed, since he didn't exactly been told what it was about but felt like he could make an educated guess on it.

With that, he turned back to the newspaper, eyes skimming through the lines in search of something that might peak his interest. He realized his name had not appeared today, and he was genuinely, and unusually, glad about that fact. Though he couldn't help but wonder how long he had until the media started questioning his abrupt cease from public appearances ─ and everything that would entail.

So boring, thought Shinichi, flipping through the pages, failing to find anything remotely interesting. Of course, there were cases ─ Ostania would always be Ostania, even if Shinichi Kudo wasn't around. Crimes were piling one over another, but the information released about any of them was scarce, at best. Nowadays, the cases of citizens being detained from treason and espionage get so much repercussions that the everyday murder or ordinary robbery.

Unless Shinichi Kudo was involved. Those had a lot of revenue, strangely enough. Maybe because they were already solved by the time they were made public, so there wasn't much room for speculation. He couldn't even tell if it was the government carefully keeping important details from the public, or the lack of competence from the police to gather clues.

Everything is just as likely, thought Conan, shaking his head. What a nice country to live in.

But as much as they didn't cover them as thoroughly as they should, assassinations were still a normal occurrence, and no soul in this world seemed to be exempted from them. Like that one minister, whose name he had just read but couldn't be bothered to remember, who had disappeared one night at his residence, alongside every single one of his bodyguards.

No signs of struggle, or even the faintest hint of a break in, despite what literally everything else would imply. Personal belongings were present at the scene, meaning that the victim had not headed out on his own. Valuable objects were still there, untouched, evidencing that it had not been a robbery either.

Which only left the option of murder behind. But the house had been sparkling clean, not a trace of blood spotted, even through the use of luminol.

Although the article had not gone so far in the description of the case, the detective knew what kind of murderer they were dealing with, like the back of his hand. Even though he had not the slightest idea of their identity.

Because Shinichi had come across that scene once, maybe twice, in the past. He had been called by the police, desperate for a single lead to follow ─ taken to the scene, breathed in disinfectant and the odor of cleaning supplies only to realize that he, too, was stumped.

Whoever the criminal is, they are quite the experienced one. Terribly smart and cunning, too, enough not to leave a single piece of incriminating evidence in their wake. And he had tried, tried with everything he had, but had failed, horribly so.

It was like chasing after a ghost evaporating the moment he thought he had something to go by, leaving noticing but an ugly stain in his perfect record.

You better enjoy those last moments of freedom, thought Conan, his eyebrow twitching in pure annoyance. Just wait until I get my body back.

With that, he pointedly looked away from that article, following onto the next which was, unsurprisingly, yet another murder. Oh, this one is a lot bloodier, realized Conan, suddenly interested. I see. The victim was stabbed in the-

Everything melted away in the face of surprise and fingers gently flipping over the page to reveal a harmless, or at least bloodless, report of a robbery that occurred just the other day.

Loid did not even look his way when his head raised to glare at him. Conan huffed, resigning himself to read that one article that had been chosen for him.

Upon further inspection, he realized that it had not been an ordinary one, but a billionaire robbery that had taken place a while ago.

Although the stolen money had been recovered, the perpetrators were still roaming about somewhere ─ that was, in fact, the sole reason they kept talking about it. They had literally stolen from the government, so the police were desperate for any bit of help or information they could lay their hands on.

Because those filthy traitors to this country could not be forgiven. That much was the only thing everyone cared about nowadays.

Even though…

Even though Shinichi could still see that certain weak, fragile smile of hers, lips moving to convey one last message to him. Something about people who liked to wear black, that the young detective had not entirely understood, but that he had nodded to anyway ─ thinking of those words as nothing beyond a delirious mutter of a person slowly losing her grip on reality just before fading away from existence entirely.

To this day, he could still see her blood in his hand, the hand she had gripped so tightly, sticking to his skin like a burn that wouldn't completely heal.

A sigh clung to his throat, Conan put the newspaper aside ─ over the lap of a slightly surprised Loid ─ and turned his head away, his gaze falling on the window once more. The spy sat silently for a moment, until the shock came to pass, and gave the boy an inquisitive look.

Conan shrugged, refusing to answer before he could even hear the question. Loid's gaze remained there, drilling holes on the back of his head, yet the boy barely even paid mind to it.

He merely leaned his head against the window, his cheek squished against the glass as he gazed out at the passing scenery. In doing so, he completely missed the strange glance that Anya was giving him, shifting on her seat.

Abruptly, and completely out the blue, he straightened up, his breathing hitching and his eyes widening like plates as he continued to stare out the window.

Taking over reading the discarded newspaper, Loid eased back down onto his seat. "In that case, settle down," he said. "We're about to get off."

Conan's focus slowly shifted to the man behind him.

"We… Are we?"

The spy fixed him with an odd stare. "Is something wrong?"

He hoped his grin hadn't appeared as fake as it did to him. "Nope. Why?"

Yeah. It's not like we just passed Teitan Elementary minutes ago! he cried hysterically inside his mind. Panic began to settle in, and evidently, he wasn't doing a terrific job hiding it, proved by the fact that not only Loid was looking at him as if he had grown a second head, but Anya had turned to gawk at him as well.

He hastily hopped off his seat. "I'm gonna go get some air," he muttered.

Loid blinked. "In a train…?"

But it went both unheard and unanswered, and Conan retreated away from sight in record time, a smooth, if bored, expression plastered all over his face. He decidedly made it to the end of the corridor, calmly opened the door leading to that narrow, enclosed place between carriages, and slipped inside.

Once in solitude, he allowed his facade to break. Palms pressed against the newly closed door, Conan wheezed.

He said we're about to get off, recalled the boy. But we… We were moving to Berlint, weren't we?! Or so Loid had mentioned earlier. Had he misunderstood something? Or maybe Loid had lied to him ─ which just couldn't be, unless he had a good reason to do that…

A flicker of realization crossed his face. Come to think of it, Beika is pretty close to Berlint, he thought, and suddenly, he felt infinitely stupid. Come on, how come I didn't realize that earlier?!

He stepped back, hands lingering in plain air, and forced himself to breathe out. Because, he convinced himself, it couldn't be that bad. It wasn't like they were moving to Beika specifically.

Berlint is pretty big, too, Conan affirmed in his mind. It's not like I'm going to run into her, who is living in a completely different city altogether, every five seconds, right?

Behind him, the door creaked open, yet the boy failed to notice.

And actually, it also means I'm getting closer.

To that place, the place where everything started. His eyes narrowed slightly. Tropical Land.

If those men in black are still roaming around nearby-

"Hey, brat." His thoughts were interrupted by a gruff voice behind him. "You're in the way."

The sight that awaited Conan as soon as he glanced over his shoulder paralyzed him completely. Every thought gone, evaporated at the raven black clothes, or the sunglasses the man behind him donned, for whatever reason, even indoors.

Just a little behind, he glimpsed silver. A cold murderous look settled onto his body, effectively freezing his blood solid.

Despite the insistence, Conan did not manage to move a single muscle.

Niichan's thoughts are loud…

So loud, that it was almost impossible for her to retain a wince with every shout, every rant, every mental, exhausted sigh. And, again, it was loud ─ so incredibly loud that she could hear him, even from so far away.

Anya couldn't help herself and turned to peer over her shoulder. The door was still closed, but even so, she felt as if she had quite a good idea of what was happening behind.

Sort of.

It also means I'm getting closer, resounded in her head.

Anya couldn't help but notice how distinct his inner voice sounded compared to his outward one, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what made it so different. Maybe it was the overflowing confidence, or the maturity that contrasted with his apparent, young age.

He sounds cooler, she thought.

To that place, the place where everything started… Her eyes widened with each of his words, hands balled into loose fists in front of her. Tropical Land.

Her heart skipped a beat, every cell of her body brimming with excitement her little body could barely contain.

Meanwhile, Loid stared at her strangely, unable to figure out why she kept jumping ever so lightly on her seat.

W-What the-?

Her movements came to an abrupt halt, taken aback by the sudden shift in the tone of the boy's thoughts. T-Those are… he stuttered in disbelief, about something that Anya had absolutely no idea about. Those men…

Those are the men who poisoned me!

Once more, the girl jumped on her seat, yet this time, instigated by a violent flinch instead of the overwhelming excitement that had coursed through her veins earlier. Eyes wide, pale-faced, she slowly turned to glance over her shoulder.

The closed door gave no indication of anything extremely relevant happening beyond it, but those panic-driven thoughts that continued to echo in her head told another story altogether. What should I do? they continued. I-I need to get away somehow!

They're going to kidnap me, aren't they? Then, first, they will…

A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her body shaking with horror at the long, dreadfully detailed theory of what would happen to him that followed right afterwards.

"Anya?" asked Loid, the perfect mixture of confusion and concern. "Are you okay?"

Anya stuttered incoherently, prompting his eyebrow to rise higher than ever before.

When in reality, all she wanted was to wave her hands around and tell him everything. "The bad guys that poisoned Niichan are about to chop him off into little pieces!" she wanted to scream, desperate for him to understand the situation and save the day like the cool spy he was.

"How do you know that?!" But of course, Loid would back away, freaked out of his mind. "What are you?!"

"You told Papa my secret!" Conan would then scream at her, his face twisting in anger. "I hate you!"

Her mouth clicked shut without making a single sound, her head shook from side to side, violently so. Loid stared at her for a while longer before muttering, "You are not okay?"

Anya flinched, eyes opening wide after realizing her mistake, nodding just as frantically as before. A cold bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, his eyes narrowing slightly on her form, as if trying to piece together the most difficult puzzle there was.

Which one is it? he mentally wondered.

Not that she planned on answering.

Wha-? It was her brother again, but it was softer, much softer than before. That had Anya stilling, blinking at space in surprise at the clear lack of panic or fear ─ just plain, dumb confusion.

Once again, she risked a glance over her shoulder, and struggled to keep herself from squeaking at the sight of black emerging from behind the opening door. A man with sunglasses was huffing, clearly irritated about something ─ 'a brat', according to his equally grumbling thoughts ─ came forward, and right behind him, was a slender, taller man with long silver hair ─ such a pretty color, Anya would have also found herself staring even if she hadn't known what she did, regarding her older brother.

Speaking of which, where was he? She found him just as the question struck, peeking from behind the door, studying the men in black with suspicion.

That's right, he thought. They don't know the drug made me small.

Again, Anya blinked, then once it dawned on her, sighed in relief. Closing her eyes, the little girl slumped back into her seat, exhausted beyond belief even though she had done practically nothing.

This could be my chance, she heard his thoughts again, and her eyes snapped back open. If I could get the ingredients of that drug somehow… Maybe the Professor can whip out an antidote…

And then, once I'm back as high school detective Shinichi Kudo, I'll reveal your evil doings! Fists clenched, Conan nodded to himself. You can count on it!

Anya stared at him dully, but he didn't seem to notice.

Niichan's thoughts are rather repetitive.

With her eyes she followed him, but much to her surprise, he didn't settle back onto his original seat in front of her, but rather, silently passed by, not even casting a glance towards her or their adopted father. None of that.

Instead, he focused his attention on the pair of men that reached their seat, not too far away from theirs, and simply sat down. In a stroke of dumb, borderline ridiculous luck ─ his words, not hers ─ it turned out that the seats directly behind them were unoccupied.

Not a single thought crossed his mind as he swiftly took it for himself, a frown taking hold of his features, his gaze not straying away from the front.

Those guys… What are they doing here? he wondered.

After several seconds of her observing his every move, attentive to what she would describe as an exhilarating encounter between a great detective with his sworn enemies, Anya became aware of a potential issue. That, by itself, was a problem. She could see him, so easily at that.

Because the seat the boy was secretly stationed in happened to be right next to theirs, only separated by a narrow corridor. For maybe the eleventh time today, Anya's eyes went wide.

"Anya." She tried hard not to flinch, she really did, but wasn't any more successful than any of the other attempts. "Are you sure you are okay?"

"Yes!" Anya exclaimed, a little too loudly, probably. "Anya couldn't be any gooder!"

It's 'better', Loid mentally corrected, mostly out of instinct that anything else. He smiled lightly at her, but internally, he was sighing with worry. With this girl, my mission…

Anya tried to pretend it didn't sting as much as it did.

Conan would probably do better academically, Loid continued. But it's too early to tell. It's not unusual for intellectually gifted children to lose interest in their studies. That may prove to be a problem.

Speaking of which, where is he? Anya repressed a gasp as Loid's gaze rose above her head. He should have been back by now-

"Ah!" His eyes flickered back to the girl before they could take on his surroundings, startled by her sudden scream. He watched her stand up, rushing to the window and press her face against it. "A cute doggy!"

It took him a moment to look over as well, but failed to see anything. "It's gone now," answered the girl to his unasked question. "There was a pretty lady holding a rope to its neck."

"That's called a leash," explained the spy. "If she didn't use one, the dog would probably run away."

She stared deeply into his soul. "Is Anya getting one, too?"

"Not if you behave."

His words were long heard, yet the girl did not seem to move, keeping her oddly plain stare fixated on his form, and making no attempt to explain what seemed to be wrong. Loid wasn't sure how he was supposed to deal with it, what he was supposed to say ─ or what in the world could this kid be thinking about, in any case.

I'm running out of ideas, thought Anya, sweating bullets. I thought that I could keep Papa from looking at Niichan if I kept on looking at him, but-

Gin and Vodka? rang in her head, startling her badly. Those weren't her thoughts, not even close. It was a deeper, familiar voice, male unlike hers, but did not belong to the man in front of her either.

That only left that one person.

Are those codenames?

Sparkly eyed, she twirled around. Codenames!

"Huh? Conan, what are you doing there?"

The girl froze immediately, noticing from the corner of her eye how the older man had slightly leaned forward, his every attention on the tiny figure sitting right across the hall. Not daring to move a single muscle, Anya saw her older brother twitch and turn slowly, forcing a childish smile onto his face ─ that did not match with the angry voice in his head, uttering several, strange words she had never heard in her life, but somehow did not sound like nice ones.

"Our seat is over here," Loid continued, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, yeah!" replied Conan, scratching the back of his head. "But the view is nicer over here!"

A nicer view, huh? Anya froze at the sound of the gruff voice that suddenly invaded her thoughts.

Though completely unfamiliar, it sent shivers down her spine.

Out of instinct, her gaze darted towards the man with sunglasses, who rose from his seat without even sparing his partner a glance. Not that he needed any kind of acknowledgement, since he did the same right afterwards, and together, the two men made their way to the exit, presumably to get off at the next station.

Similarly, the bespectacled boy also shot them a look, his body twitching with the clear intent of chasing after them, but held himself back instantly afterwards. It would be extremely stupid to do so, reflected the boy, especially with Loid's far-too-sharp gaze still on him.

You better enjoy it, little brat. Anya caught a sight of a smirk, crawling up his face just before he stepped off the train. Since it's going to be your last.

After that bomb goes off, you won't have another chance to do so.

"For the last time, Conan…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming."

"Hm? You sound a little disappointed."

"Eh? Do I?"

"Why is that?"

"No reason."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, but…" His finger pointed somewhere else, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Is she okay?"

As prompted, he observed the girl in question. She was still standing, looking up at space eerily ─ and oddly ─ quiet, her little face palling with every second that passed by. Initially, Loid was genuinely worried about any motion sickness that could have struck, but then realized that she did not look like that was the case. She didn't curl into herself, or huddle in a corner of her seat like many children did. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

To which Loid was not sure if to be relieved or extremely concerned.

"Anya," called Conan, his expression similar to his. "Are you-"

"Hungry!" she screamed suddenly. They stalled, frozen by surprise, so she took advantage of it. A blink of an eye later, she was running through the corridor, darting to that one door Conan had come from minutes ago. "I'm going to get some peanuts!"

"Wait!" Loid jumped back onto his feet, stumbling into the hallway as if to chase after her, but stopping himself at the nick of time. "It's not self-service-"

A dark tuft of hair slid across the bottom corner of his view. "I'll go get her," he heard, and immediately afterwards, he was met with the small form of a boy, hands tucked inside his pockets as he calmly made his way out of the carriage.

The spy wanted to argue, yet all he did was deflate with a weary sigh.

It didn't take long for the faux child to find his supposed sister. She wasn't hard to spot, her bright pink hair standing out easily just as he got to the diner car, whipping around as her gaze flickered back and forth across the room. Frantically so.

She turned to him the moment he stepped into her vision, fists raised over her chest, green eyes wide with what he would assume to be urgency. Conan said nothing, but tilted his head slightly, trying to deduce the meaning behind her nervous muttering, words stumbling over one another as if she tried to tell him too much, all at the same time, but her mouth hadn't quite caught up with her brain.

At first, he didn't think much about it. In fact, he was mostly worried about the glances that were shot their way from the passengers, most of them giggling at the cute scene of two children playing ─ or at least, he supposed that was how it looked like to everyone else, much to his dismay ─ while others appeared slightly peeved at their loud antics. To be fair, had he been in his old body and in their position, Conan guessed he would have empathized with them.

But then, he froze. It had taken a word; a single, innocent word he had managed to decipher in her panicked rant that changed everything.

Bomb, that was what Anya had said. Oh, a bomb, I see…

Wait.

"A bomb?" Conan repeated.

He didn't exactly interrupt her, because she had suddenly gone silent a moment ago, nodding just as frantically as before, her entire body shaking as a backlash of her own movement. She must have realized that her message had finally gotten through, thought Conan.

Since when had he been this easy to read? Perhaps it came in territory when becoming a child. He made a mental note to look into it later.

Pushing every other thought to the back of his mind, Conan shuffled closer. "Is there a bomb on this train?" he whispered. "Is that what you're trying to say, Anya?"

Again, she nodded. He frowned, asking, "How do you even know about that?"

Anya froze solidly, and for a moment, Conan assumed he wasn't going to get a reply.

Could she have seen it? he wondered, stepping back to caress his chin. No, that isn't likely. If this bomb was positioned somewhere that even a kid would be able to see, anyone else would have noticed it…

Maybe she heard something?

"Anya… Anya heard something!" she suddenly said, jerking him out of his thoughts to give her a clueless look. "I, uh… heard a ticking sound!"

Briefly, he wondered where in the world could this girl have learned to recognize the sound of a bomb, of all things. Ah, Bondman. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense, so he didn't press over that matter.

It was hard to believe that those men in black ─ Vodka and Gin, as he had learned only minutes ago ─ had nothing to do with it. No, it would have been too much of a coincidence. They mentioned a transaction, he recalled what he had overheard from their far too short conversation. Could they have planted it on the person they were dealing with?

Deeply immersed in his thoughts, Conan turned slightly away from Anya's wide, curious gaze. Then, the perfect place to sneak a bomb has to be in the object of the transaction. Probably a suitcase, since that was the easiest way to do so. All they had to do was to ensure that both parties carried similar suitcases, and they could simply exchange it without raising any suspicions.

Conan looked over to Anya, who flinched at how abruptly it had happened. "Where did you hear it?" he asked her.

"Uh…"

"Who was around when you heard it? What did they look like?"

She went silent for a while. Conan was growing impatient, but waited anyway until she finally responded, "Anya is bad with faces."

You've got to be kidding me! He wanted to sigh, he wanted to scream, but concealed it all within himself. Anya appeared spooked as it was now, obviously, so there was no need to alarm her any further.

Calm down, and think.

Drawing in a deep breath, Conan allowed his gaze to wander, stopping on each and every single one of the passengers in the carriage they had stumbled into. Two, no, three of them had brought large, black suitcases that could as well be carrying a bomb, unbeknownst to everyone.

A woman sitting contentedly to herself, humming a sweet tune under her breath. An elderly man sitting quietly, lost in thought as he stared out the window. A young man hunched over a tattered notebook, scribbling something with intense concentration.

If Anya had gotten here before freezing in fear, then the culprit must have passed by here. Well, the term 'culprit' may not be entirely accurate, but considering they had been involved in an illegal transaction, he felt he could take the liberty of calling them like that.

The dinner was the first car on this train, followed by the driver's cabin. If anyone were to leave, they would have crossed paths with him at some point, reasoned Conan, but there hadn't been anyone like that.

Which means… Conan narrowed his eyes. The culprit is still here. In this dining car.

Anya's hand raised, haltingly reaching towards the boy.

She heard a ticking sound, right? My hearing is not that bad, actually. I might be able to do it, too.

And then it froze. "Ah, no-" Anya tried.

Yet, it had been too late. Before she could fully register what was going on, the little girl found herself watching as his brother promptly crouched, crawling alongside the corridor. She blinked, witnessing how he brazenly moved closer to the passenger's belongings, a focused, almost comical, look crossing his face.

Niichan… Isn't cool at all.

Conan's first target was the old man, sitting alone by the window. He seemed to be too engrossed in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery beyond the glass. So, Conan crept closer to the man's suitcase, listening intently for any unusual sounds.

After a few moments, where Anya had basically forgotten how to breathe, he heard his thoughts echo in her mind, It's not him, as he silently backed away.

The old man remained oblivious to his presence, lost in contemplation.

The young man had been fortunately too focused on whatever he was doing, writing so furiously with such a crazed glint on his eye that Conan, for a moment, hesitated even getting close to him. But, pressed by the imminent danger everyone in this train was apparently in, he decided to tough it up and do his task. But he couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary, so he was soon gone with nothing but a dejected shake of his head.

Niichan mentioned it had been one of those three people, noted Anya, attentive to how the little detective approached the last seat in the row, where a lady sat, smiling pleasantly as she looked out the window, her thoughts comprising solely on that one catchy sound she kept on contently humming along.

She didn't look like what Anya expected culprits to be. But she had to be, evidenced by the sharpening of her brother's features, and the smirk that had crawled up into his face after he checked her suitcase.

"Hey! What are you-?!"

It all dispelled right away with a squeak of his own, scrambling to grab into the suitcase as she tried to recover it, desperately so. But Conan was stubborn and held valiantly with as much strength as a six-year-old could muster. His grip did not falter, even though he was easily lifted off the ground alongside the case, his small frame dangling in the air.

What's this brat doing?! Is he trying to steal this from me?! the woman was screaming, even in her thoughts. No way! Not after all the trouble I went through to get my hands on it!

This is bad. If we keep on shaking the bomb this much, there's no telling what will happen, thought Conan, gritting his teeth. I need to tell her… that there's a bomb, but how-?

Hesitantly, Anya took a single step forward.

"We're not bad people!" she exclaimed, fists clenched on each of her sides. "And we're not thiefs!"

Conan's once panicked expression dulled suddenly. Thieves, he corrected her in his mind. Anya winced in response.

The woman's confusion was evident as she stared down at the girl in front of her, pausing for a moment. But as doubt began to harden her features, Anya shook her head, and regained her composure.

"There's a bomb that's gonna go kaboom if you keep…" she faltered, failing to find the right words to say. "If you… If you keep doing that!"

Surprised, the lady effectively stopped this time. Her grip unwittingly lowered, allowing the boy to drop back to the ground. "What…" she began, her voice trembling slightly. "What are you talking about?"

Conan frowned, knowing that they probably didn't have much time left. But then, just before he could even start explaining the situation, that one ticking sound grew louder and more insistent, resounding in the entire car much more intensely than ever before.

He cringed, and ever so slowly, turned to look over at the suitcase he was still holding onto. Horror painted his every feature, heart pounding in his chest, as he waited for the inevitable tragedy that was about to strike. Closing his eyes shut, he wondered if, in just a couple of minutes, he would find himself in an unbelievable amount of pain, or if he would have long stepped into the other world before it could reach him.

But, instead, all he got was the sensation of a breeze caressing his cheeks, alongside with his grip on the suitcase slipping. Perplexed, he opened his eyes again to find the languid figure of a blonde man, halfway through the window. He had not realized he had gotten the bomb from him until after he had thrust it far away, and watched in amazement as it dived deep into the river they passed through, an expansive wave breaking through the peaceful waters.

Conan scrambled to regain his balance as the train shook violently, and would have long lost his footing had it not been for the older man ─ in just two long strides, he had reached for Anya, who had been standing quietly still as she watched everything unfolding in front of her easily impressionable eyes, effortlessly plucking Conan off the ground on his way.

Crouching over the two kids, the man threw his arms around them, holding them tightly until the tremors came to pass. Once it was over, a period of silence ensued, and then chaos arose in the form of panicked screaming and muttering filling the air. Yet, neither of those three let that get to them.

As they were steadied back onto firm ground, Conan raised his gaze to find Loid's dark bags under his eyes. Through heavy panting, he managed such a strong look that urged Conan to avert his eyes, though he resisted either way.

"Just… What were… you two doing?"

Conan and Anya exchanged a look.

"Looking for peanuts?" the boy offered.

A massive groan followed.

Fortunately, nothing of utmost importance occurred on their way to their new home. Nothing besides, of course, a police interrogation that probably did not last over fifteen minutes ─ for them, in any case. Conan had portrayed the clueless little child who was playing around with his sister, got a tad too curious and discovered a bomb by chance. That, and Loid's smooth talking, allowed the fake family to walk free, completely free of suspicion.

He was sure that it might have taken significantly longer than that for the woman who had undergone a deal with the men in black. Conan got a glance of her as she was taken away, noticed the sickly pale shade of her face, the slight sway of her body as she walked ─ understandably spooked out of her mind. If it was because she had almost died, or because she was caught in an illegal transaction, he couldn't say for certain.

Some part of Conan regretted not having found the chance to question her, but after considering for another second, he realized that he probably wouldn't have gotten any leads, either. Seeing how shocked she had been at her attempted death, as if she had not even considered that this would happen, her being absolutely unaware of their true nature was the most logical conclusion.

"Conan! We're leaving."

Thus, the boy turned away from her, hurrying to catch up with Anya and Loid, giving closure to this unexpected encounter that had almost claimed his life with nothing but a couple of codenames to continue on his investigation. This wouldn't be the last time, he assured himself. Next time he ran into those people, he would make sure to squeeze every bit of information from them until there was nothing left.

So you better be prepared for it… Gin, Vodka!

Naturally, there had been something else that had eluded Conan completely. Something so crucial, so obvious, that he had not thought about for some reason. Something that could interfere with his mission, leaving him no time to do anything but to sit at a table next to a squirming, permanently distracted Anya for hours to an end.

"Review this part again. It's A, not B."

That, of course, being Loid's mission.

Conan rolled his eyes, boredly leaning into his open palm. Loid sighed, placing a hand over his notes, and settled him with the sternest look he could manage.

"You aren't taking this seriously," he said.

Oh, so perceptive, thought Conan, sarcastically, but refrained from stating it out loud. Then again, it would have been just as if he had, since he wasn't exactly trying to hide his disinterest from his face.

"If you don't study, you won't pass the entrance exam," Loid chastised him.

Studying? Conan's mind repeated, raising an eyebrow. That's a funny way to say 'memorizing the answers from an answer sheet you mysteriously got'.

"Take another look at it," the spy insisted, placing the answer sheet he had supposed to be studying over his notebook. "We'll come back to it later."

He went back to Anya right afterwards, who was already flinching, probably having just witnessed what was coming for her, too. Unlike her, though, Conan was barely affected by it, his eyes wandering over to the paper sheet in front of him, inwardly sighing again.

Well, it wasn't like he had a particularly bad memory. But if he showed that he could easily remember every single of those answers, him failing the exam off the bat wouldn't have been believable enough.

I could just ace the exam easily enough if I wanted to, thought Conan, eyes narrowing on a certain corner of the paper, the fancy-looking logotype of a certain school he had heard so much about making it to his sight.

The prestigious Eden Academy. A place where all sorts of people entrusted their children so they could be provided with the most complete education any institution could offer. Of course, considering everything that entailed, it was a given that most of the student body consisted of spoiled brats coming from the most ridiculously wealthy, influential families.

His target must be related to it, deduced Conan. Their child, or children, must be studying at Eden. So, he was seeking to establish a connection through either Anya or him. A pretty well thought plan, if you asked Conan.

But none that he was especially concerned about. Not when he had his own troubles.

I can't even get out of this house to investigate.

At this rate, I won't get anything done, lamented the child. I don't remember being watched over this cautiously when I was a child. The first time around, I mean.

His grip on his pen slacked slightly, his gaze still cast on his notes, having failed to write a single word ever since. I wonder how Mom and Dad are doing, he wondered, a faint frown taking over his features at the mere thought of them. I haven't heard from them for a while.

He lowered himself, cushioning his chin in between his arms, and stilled.

I wonder if they noticed I'm not there, the thought crossed his mind, even before he could recognize it as his own. Or if the Professor had to point it out for them.

Or if they even came back home at all. They haven't even been in this country for a while…

The frown became a scowl, glaring down at the papers as if they were the only cause of everything happening in his life lately. Which was a lot to be charged with, actually.

He was broken out of his stupor when the bell suddenly rang, his head jerking up at the unexpected sound. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Anya and Loid had adopted a similar posture, appearing just as clueless as he was.

Which meant that Loid wasn't expecting any guests. Strange.

Anya gasped after a whole second passed by. "Thieves!"

"Thieves wouldn't ring the doorbell," answered Loid, rather plainly, just beginning to rise from his chair when he was beaten to it.

"It's probably the mailman," Conan said, quickly hopping off his seat before he could lose his chance. "I'll get the door."

Anything to get out of there, and do something marginally more productive than whatever he had been doing ever since morning.

So, not even bothering to wait for a reply, the young boy headed to the door, grumbling lightly at the incessant ringing ─ whoever their visitor was, they wouldn't stop ringing the bell, again and again. As if, for some reason, they were desperate for any sort of response.

Thus, Conan granted it to them, in the form of a plain, bored glance shot from the moment he opened the door. It shifted into surprise the moment he realized there was no mailman outside like he had predicted, but a woman. Round-faced, dark short curly hair and glasses; it was a face he had definitely never seen before in his life.

So Conan said nothing, simply tilted his head slightly, and waited for the visitor to introduce herself, or to explain what was her business there.

But he wasn't prepared for what happened next. The woman had crouched down, and promptly engulfed him in an embrace he desperately tried to squirm off from, both because he was asphyxiating and what the hell, why is this woman I don't know suddenly hugging me?!

"Oh, Conan-chan! I've finally found you!"

Conan's struggle ceased, every muscle in his body tensing up. But her hold on him tightened.

"You must've been so scared," she whispered into his ear, nuzzling against his cheek. "But don't worry, I'm here now."

He felt himself shudder. Haltingly, the boy lifted his head, his gaze flickering to the woman's face, catching a glimpse of her far too sweet, overly warm smile that had the back of his hair standing on an end.

Conan's ears caught with the sound of steps growing closer, stopping right behind him. "Excuse me," Loid said, his voice smooth and calm as ever, but if he tried hard enough, he could hear a hint of tension underlying his words. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

She released him slowly, allowing the boy to breathe again. Once freed, he watched her rise to her feet, her hands clasped in front of her with a perfect, polite smile.

"My apologies. I didn't introduce myself," she said, addressing the spy rather than to the bespectacled child. "My name is Fumiyo Edogawa. I'm Conan-chan's mother."

Silence struck down as lightning, even shaping Loid's permanently stoic features with shock. Conan flinched suddenly, his mouth hanging open at the bizarre explanation that had been thrust upon them. What do you mean by 'mother'?! he screamed hysterically within his mind. 'Conan' was a name Shinichi had just chosen at random; he didn't exist beyond whatever shady documents Loid had forged to justify his status as his biological son.

A part of him found it just as shocking that her family name, Edogawa, actually was the kind of name he would have chosen if given the chance, hadn't he adopted the role of an orphaned, newly adopted young boy. And that was slightly terrifying, in a way.

"I've been looking all over for you. I'm so glad!" Fumiyo focused on him again, extending her hand for him to take. "Let's go home, Conan-chan."

Again, he may have taken on the role of a six-year-old child, yet that did not mean he was stupid enough to blindly trust her. He took a step backwards, swiftly dodging away from her reach.

"I'm sorry, but…" Conan began, a frown crawling up his features. "Who are you, lady?"

Fumiyo flinched back with a sharp gasp, her hand raising to place itself over her heart as if it physically hurt, her whole joyful, relieved facade crumbling into pieces. She fell on her knees once more, eyes flickering all over his face, as if searching for something she was unable to find.

"It can't be… Don't you remember me?" She reached forward, her hands stretching to him once more, fingers trembling ever so slightly. "I'm your mama, Conan-chan."

Just as they were about to caress his cheeks, Conan took yet another step back, a disturbed look on his face. Unable to make any contact, they retreated, clasped with one another as they pressed against her chest.

She had this haunted look on her eye that, had he not known better, it would have stricken him as genuine. "The child that was said to be involved in an incident…" she murmured, her voice barely above her whisper. "Oh dear, so it was you."

This woman even knew about that incident ─ the realization made Conan's skin crawl. There had been no mention of his name, his fake name, when the incident at Tropical Land had been covered. He knew that well ─ he had checked thoroughly so.

So how does this woman-?

His eyes snapped back open, looking at this woman in an entirely new light. Beads of perspiration covered his brow, rolling down his cheek to drop onto the floor. Could she have been watching me? he wondered, his breath suddenly hitching. Does she know about me?

Is she… one of them?!

"I heard he suffered from amnesia, but to think it's so bad he wouldn't recognize his own mother…" she cooed, and he cringed. "My poor baby boy."

Despite himself, despite what logic dictated, his survival instincts roaring at him to run for his life and never look back, Conan's feet did not move from place. Even though what was wise was not to let her out of sight, not allow her to make any strange, suspicious movements, his gaze strayed away from her.

Although he was the famous high school detective, Shinichi Kudo, who was used to dealing with the slyest, most dangerous criminals and had lived through thanks to his logical actions and strong survival instincts, Conan twisted his head, lifting it enough to meet Loid's eyes.

Big and pleading ─ not unlike the lost, clueless little boy he was pretending to be.

It was cut short by the feeling of fingers seizing his wrist in an iron grip, unyielding against his own struggling. Conan twirled back around to face Fumiyo, and saw her once serene gaze adopt a wild, crazed glint, but did not even have the time to feel unsettled at the sight ─ something had wrapped itself around his other arm, prompting his head to whip back to that one side.

Conan had to admit he was surprised to see Anya, who had been unusually silent until now; eyes scrunched close, clinging to him, holding onto him with all her might.

"You're a liar!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Niichan… You aren't Niichan's mama!"

Fumiyo's grip on him slacked and disappeared, an action that Conan attributed to her own bewilderment.

"He's a Forger!" Conan's arm shook lightly as Anya whipped her head from side to side. "He's part of Anya's family!"

Conan could do nothing but stare back at her, his thoughts awfully silent.

"I will kindly ask you to leave."

As something fell on his head, Conan blinked rather dumbly, and raised his chin to see a hand resting atop his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, spotted a tall figure step forward to partially shield him from the woman's view.

"I do not know what your intentions are, but if you try to get your hands on my son again…" Loid's voice lowered, in a way Conan had never heard from him before. It was deeper, more menacing somehow, he dared to say. "You will be in serious trouble."

After that, the door was slowly but firmly pushed closed, and the last thing Conan saw from the woman were her pressed lips and expressionless eyes, fixated on him. With a gentle click of the door, she was all gone, leaving the young boy unable to do anything but just stare at it. Trying, yet failing, to make sense of the situation.

He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was still alive. Will she come back for me later? Conan wondered, frowning to himself. To finish what she once started.

Will she wait until I'm alone? Or will she strike later tonight, nonetheless?

If that were to be the case, if she didn't truly care about him not being on his own… Then, these people…

The hand that had once been on his head dropped over to his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. Lifting his head, he saw Loid's entire attention on him, and for a moment he worried he had been able to see more than he was willing to share. That those sharp eyes had dissected the truth he had been struggling to hide and was about to confront him for it.

But to his surprise, all he said was, "I don't have to know everything."

Conan could not help but blink, unable to think of a proper response.

"If you aren't comfortable sharing your past, then it's fine with me," he continued. "I won't ask that much from you."

He wanted to be relieved, especially after those words were pronounced. Yet, Loid had crouched down in front of him to be at eye-level. The seriousness of his expression, the narrowing of his eyes, everything struck Conan in a bad way. Because that was the exact same expression Shinichi would often wear in the past, striving to extract information from the most closed of hearts from criminals and witnesses alike.

Conan pressed his lips together, doing his best not to let a single sound out.

"But there is something I need to know about," Loid said and Conan mentally sighed.

Just as he had been expecting. It would be ridiculous for a spy to content himself with so little information.

"Conan, do you remember your mother?"

Though that hadn't been exactly what he had in mind, the shrunken detective nodded his head, almost timidly, terribly hesitant. Then he waited in silence for the inexpressive spy to ponder over his response to his heart's content, preparing himself for the question that was sure to follow. One that, hopefully, he would be able to offer a vague response so not to raise any further suspicion.

Instead, Loid nodded as well. "I understand."

Conan stared back, perplexed. "You aren't going to ask anything else?" came out from his lips, against his will.

"I don't need to. It's irrelevant." With that, the man promptly stood up, his lips curving into a soft smile as he peered down at the boy. "You aren't going anywhere with that woman."

Though he would never admit to it, Conan found himself gawking at Loid, his mind drawing a black. He struggled to come up with a natural reaction, but as it was, the boy wasn't even capable of doing such a thing.

"You're safe here."

And like so he remained, stunned beyond any words, even as the secret agent moved closer to the door, properly locking it.

"So try not to think about it." Loid told him before he turned to leave, his expression hidden from those eyes that kept on widening behind oversized glasses. "I'll go make a quick call. Review those questions you got wrong. We'll go over them when I'm back."

Only when the man stepped into the corridor leading to their rooms and disappeared from sight did everything click inside his mind.

Considering that he had expressly told him that his glasses were his father's, clearly showing that he remembered him to some degree, it was natural that he would doubt about his alleged amnesia carrying over to memories that went beyond the incident.

By asking if he recalled who his mother was, he was narrowing all other possibilities down to two distinct scenarios. One where Fumiyo Edogawa wasn't his mother. Or another where Fumiyo Edogawa actually was his mother, but he vehemently refused to go with her, as if terrified at the prospect.

Any responsible adult would see the dangers of leaving a young child with such a woman. Whichever was the case.

Not for the first time, Conan smiled amusedly, and thought, You're surprisingly nice, old man.

He didn't quite notice the similarly tiny figure pressing her hands against the glass, peering curiously down at the world outside. Hurrying across the street, she could see a certain woman, her head whipping back and forth ─ as if she was frightened of eyes that she could not see, all fixated on her.

That one had been the woman that had almost taken her older brother away, Anya thought to herself, a bit of resentment bubbling up from her chest. The one she had just screamed at, swearing up and down that she was nothing but a liar. That there was absolutely no way she was her niichan's mama.

But, actually…

I can be a cool liar, too. Her lips curved into a smug grin. A cool liar, just like Papa and Niichan.

For the next few days, Conan would notice Loid leaving their apartment when he thought they were asleep, even though that only remained true for Anya. He would remember to lock the door at his departure, and wouldn't return until early morning, frustrating any of the miniature detective's attempts to sneak out and investigate on his own.

For his part, Conan would do his best that his situation allowed. He would slip into the living room and keep watch outside the window at nights when they were alone, and would keep his senses sharp and alert for anything happening at night. He would also keep an ear out whenever that guy who usually wound up babysitting them came along.

Their conversation would be muffled, restricted to those times when they thought both children were engaged on that dumb TV show. But Shinichi was a detective. Had trained his senses to perceive beyond what normal people could. And that extended to his hearing skills, naturally.

So he knew they had been looking for her. He knew, too, that they had gotten no clues relating to her either.

Fumiyo Edogawa would be nowhere to be seen ever again ─ as if she had evaporated from this world altogether, leaving not a single trace to justify her existence behind.