Mission Four: The Red-Eyed Mystery
As the days passed, the leads about that mysterious woman grew scarce, not to say nonexistent; just like a mythical creature whose existence could only be proved by a few, elusive to the eyes of every other mortal. As if she had evaporated from this world, leaving not a single trace behind.
Eventually, it had become obvious that any efforts to locate would be in vain ─ this woman was too cunning, too good, to be located. And that was beyond terrifying on its own.
That left them no choice but to put the issue on the back burner and carry on with their lives, yet Conan knew he wouldn't be able to as much breathe in peace until she was found. For he had no way of knowing when ─ not if, when ─ she was going to strike again.
And when that day comes… I've got to be ready. Conan frowned profusely at the tip of his shoes, as if they were to be blamed for everything. As it is now, I'm defenseless. I couldn't stand a chance against any of them… Is there something I could do with this small body?
If only Professor Agasa were there, he lamented. He might have been able to think of something, anything. Probably.
At least, he wasn't the only one growing restless. Conan could tell, judging by the swift glances he kept on shooting at his surroundings while they walked, that the spy wasn't any better.
Which made sense, reflected the boy. He had a mission to accomplish, of utmost importance, Conan would guess, and he had no way of knowing how much of a threat this woman was to his grand scheme of things.
A woman who knew about him, who had followed his trail from the orphanage to his new house despite him being so careful not to leave any leads behind. Probably, that was the reason he hadn't even considered moving ─ this woman had proved to be capable, and would eventually find them again even if did so. Besides, a family that kept on moving houses every few weeks would raise suspicion, and that wasn't the least any of them needed. Conan especially included.
All of this raised the question; why was Twilight still willing to keep him close? It would be much more practical, much easier to choose another smart kid for his mission, or even focus solely on Anya and drop him in another orphanage. For a spy, it surely did not make sense.
He caught sight of something in the corner of his eye, jerking him away from his musings. From the depths of Conan's being, he released a sigh and dipped his head slightly forward.
"Anya?"
"Huh?"
"You don't have to act like that every time we go out."
With a sharp gasp, the focused frown that once had painted her features dispelled. Her hands, that had been stretched at her sides as if to hide him while they walked, dropped at her sides, and graced him with quite an indignant glance.
Conan couldn't help but wonder if she truly believed he wouldn't notice her intentions, despite them being so painfully obvious.
"It's okay," he told her. "Besides, we'll stand out more if you do."
"But what if she comes back again?!"
Then I'll probably die, he thought, shrugging to lead her to believe he wasn't actually worried.
Which probably worked all too well, since she had winced instead, her mouth agape, almost scandalized for some reason. The sight of such indifference at the prospect of being kidnapped must have been a bit too disturbing, Conan supposed.
So, he motioned to the adult that silently walked behind the pair. "Don't worry. If push comes to shove, we have the old man here," he said. He caught the slightly surprised look Loid sent him and smirked. "With those mean eyes, I bet he can scare her away before she has the chance to do anything."
Loid wasn't amused, but Conan hardly cared. Instead, he looked back at the front, pretending he had not noticed the subtle narrowing of his gaze ─ which, ironically, only served as proof of his claims. It had worked before, frightened the woman into leaving, why wouldn't it work again?
"Besides…" Hands tucked in his pockets, his steps halted, and he raised his head. "It's not like she can walk in here freely, right?"
His words weren't exactly unfounded, considering the set of gates that stood right in front of them ─ both impressively and unnecessarily large, wide open to let them take a good look at the campus that extended beyond them. Imposing buildings and insanely long stairs he did not feel like climbing up, exuding an air of elegance and sophistication Shinichi had never witnessed before. Even though his family was supposed to be on the wealthy side.
Well, Sonoko's residence is a close fit, thought the boy, later on. Yeah, this sounds like the kind of school she would go to… It makes you wonder how she wound up attending Teitan Elementary instead.
Saying not another word, the three started on their way up the stairs, unwittingly mirroring the several families that had come by for the same reason. For a place full of elementary-school kids, it was pretty silent, but he shook it away soon thereafter. Everyone, with no exception, must be going through a terrible stage fright and a healthy ─ not really ─ dose of anxiety and fear.
Conan lazily crossed his arms behind his head. Why did I go to Teitan Elementary, for the record? he wondered. They might be nothing like the Suzuki Corporation, but they are pretty famous worldwide. And they chose an ordinary public school.
He wasn't complaining, though. Had he been enrolled in a crazy rich academy like this one, he would probably have missed his chance to meet Ran. His school days would have been nothing like what he had experienced, and he wasn't sure he would have wanted to change that.
But rather than changing it, I'm repeating it.
Seriously, how is this my life?
Eventually, the three of them reached the end of the stairs and stopped in their tracks. Together, they all stood there, observing the massive building that had emerged into the sight, and a determined frown crawled up Loid's face.
"You know what you have to do," he said.
Anya nodded, just as resolved. Whereas Conan let his eyelids lower slightly, inadvertently taking the first step ahead. Thus, the girl was left to trip over her feet, hurrying to follow.
I know, he told himself. I know what I have to do.
The voice in his mind had taken on a strange undertone, Anya noted with a falter of her steps, which she couldn't deduce for the life of her. He walked rapidly in front of her, making his way through the crowd of young applicants that gathered in the hallways, a frown permanently stuck to his face. He didn't seem to sense her inquiring gaze, how her mouth opened slightly with bewilderment at how silent his thoughts had suddenly grown.
He was determined, too. But Anya couldn't help but feel that there was something different. And she lacked the courage, and the skill, to inquire without exposing herself.
So, she said nothing.
Her gaze lowered to her feet and proceeded to imitate her older brother's example. Valiantly, she dived into the mass of children, and together, they advanced to reach their destination. The classroom where the examination was to take place wasn't much further, she reminded herself ─ or so she thought; she wasn't sure about that, actually.
As she ventured deeper into the halls, the voices rose among the silence that reigned over everything. Voices that nobody else could hear, that everyone remained blissfully unaware of.
I want to go home…
Mother will be so mad at me if I fail!
O-Okay. Just count to ten and it's gonna be fine!
With each step she took, they grew louder, stronger ─ blending with her surroundings, intertwining with her own thoughts. Feelings of desperation, fear, anxiety sipped from each word, from each cry, or dejected sigh ─ they invaded everything, overrode anything, clashed against each other for a place within her head.
Where is the toilet?
One… Two… Three… Five… Ugh…
What should I do?! I'm drawing a blank right now!
"Anya? Are you alright?"
She hadn't even realized she had scrunched them shut until she had to open them again. Bright blue flickered from one side to another behind thick glasses, taking everything about her at once. His gaze narrowed and sharpened like she had seen detectives do on television, restlessly looking for something.
And this time, his thoughts were gentler. Quietly still, she listened as she mulled over how clammy her face was, over how her hands had begun to tremble, or how her shoulders were tense and her features rigid ─ among other complicated stuff Anya could not keep track of.
Most of his observations had been facts Anya had not realized herself. But he had seen through, even without her mind-reading abilities. Niichan's an amazing detective, she thought.
He secured her hand in a firm grip, and his lips curved into a reassuring smile.
"See? It's not scary," he whispered to her. "I'm here with you."
It really wasn't, she soon found out. Even as they were let inside and separated into opposite sides of the classroom, it felt as if it was just a little easier to breathe. Although the answers she had learned from her father evaporated from her mind the moment the exam sheet was set on her desk ─ full of questions that might as well be written in Chinese ─ Anya did not worry at all.
Because he was right there. With her.
And since he's here…
For the first one, I'll just write 'one o'clock' here, rang within her mind. Let's go for 'symbiosis' in the second one, and option B for the next.
He may have been positioned rather far away from her, but it wasn't enough to deter Anya. If she focused enough to block all the other panicking voices from all the other applicants, she could hear them ─ his mental musings, loud and clear. For the most part.
And this one… Uh, three- No. Cube root of three. That sounds better… And what about this sentence? I'll mark it as 'false'…
That way, it only took her a few seconds, and it was done. Well, minutes, actually ─ minutes that were mostly wasted by her staring at the sheet of paper in consternation while trying to figure out how to transcribe most of the answers she had heard.
As she sat back to contemplate that one piece of art she had created, a proud smirk crawled onto her features.
As expected from you, high school detective Shinichi Kudo. Satisfied by the splendid work she had just completed, the girl wiped her forehead. With these answers, Anya will be sure to-
With these answers, I will be sure to fail this exam.
Anya froze solidly, her mouth hanging open at what she had just heard. Slowly, but surely, the implications of it started to dawn, and sure enough, the panic did not take long to settle in ─ leaving her fumbling with her school supplies for an eraser, to get rid of the evidence of her failed cheating.
A tearing sound later, Anya's gaze flickered from the mess she had created to the examiner ─ who admittedly was giving her such a strange look that she wouldn't have been able to decipher, hadn't it been for her abilities. Blushing lightly from embarrassment, she wished she had remained ignorant of it all.
There was a sigh, and then the examiner walked over to his desk for a substitute for the answer sheet she had just ruined.
This is the right thing to do, Conan continued, too focused on his own musings to notice what was happening over to her side. I still have many things to do. I can't stay here playing family.
The examiner placed a new answer sheet on her desk, taking the old one with him, presumably to be discarded. Anya grabbed her pencil and began, once more, to carefully write her name at the top ─ not that it improved her calligraphy anyhow, but at least she tried.
That woman is definitely one of them. His brother went on and on. Her hand paused half-way through her family name. She knew who I was. And those people… Loid-san and Anya…
In his thoughts, Conan sighed just as loudly as the examiner from moments earlier.
This… Isn't something I can impose on them, he thought. I'll start all over again. I'll get myself another identity, another background, and start from scratch. It isn't like I made much progress, anyway.
And in order to do this, I need to prove myself useless for Twilight and his mission.
If I fail the exam, he will…
Suddenly, his thoughts fell silent, blue eyes meeting emerald ones, blinking in confusion. Until then, Anya hadn't realized she had been staring at him, but now that she had been caught, she didn't exactly try to look away.
She just kept on gazing at him intently, eyes as wide as they could manage, as if they wanted to take all of him in. Conan shifted in his seat.
Why are you looking at me like that? It's not like I can help you out. He relaxed somehow, an eyebrow raising far above his hairline on its own accord. Do I look like I have some sort of telepathic powers or something?
Anya did her best, and succeeded in not wincing violently. She was pretty proud of her achievement.
Hey, quit it. They are just gonna get mad at you-
"Applicant K-212." This time, she didn't succeed. "Look back to the front."
With a jump, she obediently twirled back around, her every attention cast at the mostly empty answer sheet in front of her. Taking a deep breath in, she gripped her pencil and finished writing her name to take yet another good look at the questions.
Seeing no other way out, she closed her eyes and attempted to summon those memories of her father. Those tortuous studying sessions ─ if it could be called that ─ and slowly, but surely, began to make her way through the exam.
Somewhere in the background, she heard Conan chuckle.
See? I told you.
Again, he sighed, yet Anya could have sworn she sensed a tint of something vastly different from annoyance, or even resignation. Something alike, she dared to say, endearment, or even affection ─ which was so incredibly uncommon, so rare to pick from other people's thoughts nowadays.
But they took a sudden sullen turn right afterwards.
After this day, I won't be with them anymore.
Tightening her grasp on her pencil, Anya refrained from turning once more. Yet, his gaze was just as burning, and stayed at the back of her neck as a faithful companion for the rest of the exam.
His thoughts had gone completely silent again.
After a couple of hours that surely felt like days, the silence that had seized the room was lifted, leaving way to the sounds of footsteps resounding all over the place. Amidst the sea of children that flowed through the corridors, Loid easily spotted that certain pair of children, working their way towards him.
Anya appeared to be a bit dazed, while Conan kept on sending irritated glares at those kids that walked a little too close for his liking. So both of them have a great aversion to multitudes, noted Loid. I'll keep it in mind.
He rose from his seat and met them half-way with a smile on his lips.
"How did you do?" he asked, casually ─ as if he hadn't been mulling over the matter for the entirety of their next.
Anya fidgeted in her spot. Conan averted his gaze.
And the smile on Loid's face fell to the ground, a feeling of dread settling in.
Too stubborn to leave, it clung like dear life to his own soul, tugging on that nagging feeling that something was about to go wrong ─ terribly wrong.
It did not help that, for the entire, arduous and incredibly long wait for the results to come out, it was deadly silent.
He may have not been with those two for long, yet Loid thought he had lived through a lot to safely say that this behavior was not normal. Both of them remained sitting obediently at his side, without moving a single finger ─ which was extremely worrying by itself.
Anya kept on shifting in her seat, solely focused on the tip of her shoes. If he looked closely, Loid could notice her biting her lower lip, a frown crawling in her features for whatever reason.
Conan's face was a blank canvas; the well-known coat of boredom gone from that gaze that just rested somewhere far, far away, as if in contemplation.
Twilight had never felt this anxious before.
Eventually, the waiting came to an end. Barely even a second after the results were put on display ─ set on a board on the school campus, somewhere near the entrance ─ Loid walked over to check, leaving Anya and her much shorter legs struggling to catch up.
Conan leisurely made his way over and eventually stopped right next to the spy. He observed Loid for a while, or rather, how frantically his eyes skimmed through the long list of numbers, hopeful for a miracle, the boy guessed.
As his eyes grew dramatically, Conan's drifted over to the ground. He allowed his eyelids to slide close and patiently waited for the news to sink into the spy's mind.
Eventually they did, and with that, Loid broke into a broad, brilliant smile.
"It's there!" Loid exclaimed, and Conan instinctively flinched. "You passed, Conan!"
Even Anya had a more intense reaction than him, a gigantic grin drawing itself onto her features as her head whipped to the side to look at him. Her bewilderment was crystal clear for him; had she believed he wouldn't pass the exam? Really?
Well, it wasn't as if she could blame her. Conan couldn't believe himself either.
A hand fell on top of his head all of a sudden. Loid crouched right next to him, and somehow, the smile felt unusually genuine.
"I'm so proud of you," he told him.
Conan only stared back, unsure of how to react.
For a few moments, of course, until Loid went back to check the board again. Now Conan wasn't sure how that was possible, but he could swear his smile stretched even further when he caught sight of that one applicant number. The one Conan was certain it would eventually show.
"Anya!" he exclaimed. "You passed, too!"
Anya was just a moment from jumping up and down, raising her arms towards her father. He, of course, obliged to her unspoken request, and soon enough, Conan found his lips curving on his own.
As the giggles of a little girl resounded in the air, encouraged by a father twirling her daughter in the air in pure joy, Conan's gaze flickered over to the board.
His application number was there, in plain sight; a testament of his own, unpredictable nature that, apparently, he couldn't even decipher himself.
He wondered what had gotten over him, changing most of his answers on a whim to get himself a passing score. He was Shinichi Kudo, a young detective whose life had always been dictated by logic. It was laughable, unthinkable, for his actions to be this irrational ─ aside from him chasing after that shady man to the lone skirts of an amusement park, but that was one time.
Now that he was Conan, why was it so different?
"Papa!"
Her cheerful squeals morphed into frightened screams, drawing Conan's attention to the scene in question. "Don't leave me, Papa!" Anya had dropped to her knees, teary-eyed and desperately shaking what it seemed to be a body sprawled over the perfectly cared, emerald green fields of Eden. "Papa! You're going to make me cry!"
Instinct took over, feet hurriedly taking him closer to fully assess the situation, crouching next to a sobbing Anya. As per usual, his eyes narrowed, studying each and every corner of Loid's body, hunting for any clues he could find. Any trace if what the cause of death could have been, or even a hint that could lead him to the culprit-
Wait. This one was still alive.
Conan sighed, sort of relieved.
Though Loid was still collapsed, his face pale as a sheet, which made the dark, large bags under his eyes all the more prominent. He wasn't even unconscious, the boy realized, taking notice of the unfocused pupils that lazily followed his movements.
What had been a sob slowly building in, right at his side, broke into an explosive wail. That helped Conan set his priorities straight.
"Don't worry," he tried to reassure her. "He's still breathing."
She stopped, blinking the tears away as she stared at him.
"The old man is just tired," he clarified. "Nothing a good nap can't fix."
Not that he was sure of that. It barely worked for him whenever he got to that state, but he wasn't about to tell the kid that.
"Let's get him home," Conan suggested.
Anya nodded, and Conan did the same. They both stared deep into each other's eyes, sitting still in places for several seconds, maybe a full minute.
Until Conan's smile faded away.
How are we supposed to get him home?
Nobody answered his question.
Getting back home took about an hour longer than it should have.
It had taken them ─ or rather, it had taken him, since Anya had been too busy tearing up somewhere in the background despite being repeatedly told that, no, her dad was not dead, and no, he wasn't dying. Probably ─ a ridiculous amount of effort to rouse the exhausted man to, at least, a semi-conscious state.
Of course, it wouldn't have been much of a problem if he had his old body, but there was so much a pair of six-year-old brats could manage. But coffee had been the strongest ally available ─ bought at a nearby café instead of the school cafeteria to prevent a future fainting spell in case Loid decided to peer inside his wallet. The spy had finally perked up at that, enough to haul himself over to his home, and collapse back again on the couch in his living room.
Then, and only then, it fell on Conan he could have asked an actual adult for help. After a whole second of chastising himself for somehow missing the easier, most sensible option, Conan heaved out a heavy sigh, similarly exhausted by the entire experience.
Anya, who had been staring at Loid for a while, solemnly lowered her head.
"Papa died," she stated.
"He still has a pulse," he replied. "I checked."
Then, took a deep breath in, and proceeded to push his legs slightly off the couch Loid had been occupying. Climbing in and settling onto that small spot he had freed, he reached for the neglected newspaper the man had left at the coffee table earlier this morning. Better kill some time until the man decided to wake up, he thought.
Yet, Anya was aware he did not even read a single word of it. His eyes flickered away from the pages, a small frown crawling over his features as they fixated on the man lying at his side. The expression did not last long on his face and was eradicated from existence with a firm shake of his head.
Her own head, however, tilted slightly. Though outwardly silent, it was loud inside his mind. A continuous rant echoed through; that of a detective's brain struggling to make sense of his own actions, and that strange worry whose existence the boy stubbornly continued to deny.
She thought she had heard that term before in anime. Tsudere, or something like that.
Then the bell rang suddenly, pulling both kids out of the internal musings to glance over to the door.
Conan let out the air trapped in his lungs first, his gaze zeroing on the source as if he, somehow, could see the person standing behind if he tried hard enough. But to no avail, clearly.
The identity of their unexpected visitor remained a mystery. Loid remained mostly unresponsive, if not asleep, and a sense of dread started to settle in just by imagining what was about to happen.
Last time I opened that door, it was that one woman, he recalled. It would be stupid for her to try the same approach twice in a row, but-
"I've got some mail for you!"
Conan had to struggle not to wince at that. Not that he thought he had been successful, naturally, but at least Anya also seemed too focused on the person behind the door to notice any of it.
He forced himself to calm down. This time, the voice had been from a male, opposed to the woman he had been fearing to meet again, which should have been a source of utter relief by itself. However, the possibility of him being another of those guys, seeking to finish what his partner had failed to do, still lingered.
Highly unlikely, Conan realized immediately afterwards. It would be illogical to try an identical approach, right after failing last time.
Better just get the door and get over it-
Or not.
He assumed he had hesitated for too long, or at least long enough for Anya to decide to take the task on her own hands. She skipped to the door to peek her head out, while Conan watched, attentive to what was transpiring between the girl and the mysterious visitor.
Though he stayed quiet, his hand came to settle over Loid's leg ─ hoping that he would react, if things took a much uglier turn.
Later, he would muse about how strangely carefree kids could be, or being amazed about how Anya hadn't seemed to be even a bit frightened after what she had witnessed only weeks ago. Perhaps, Conan would conclude, she was too young to fully grasp the disturbing implications of what she had witnessed.
But now, he could only sigh in relief at the confirmation that he was, indeed, just the mailman. After unwittingly convincing the poor guy that her mother had died in a bout of blunt honesty ─ because, for all intents and purposes, it was true that her 'mama' didn't 'exist', making her incapable of receiving mail ─ the girl closed the door back again.
"Papa! The mailman came!"
Bouncing with each step, she returned to the room, thus labeling 'the case of the mysterious person ringing their doorbell' as a mere case of his ever-growing paranoia.
Regardless of her yelling, Loid did not even react to it. Prompted by curiosity, Conan looked over to him one more time.
"Hey, don't bother him," the boy reprimanded her gently.
Because, being completely honest with himself, Conan perhaps felt sorry for the poor guy, whose daughter kept on slapping him with the envelope she had just gathered, curiosity clear in her eyes. Although the action by itself lacked any strength, or malice of any kind, Conan still found the fact that Loid didn't even stir more than a little disturbing.
But at least that got her to stop.
"What did you get?"
"Mail."
And without even being prompted to, she wordlessly passed him the envelope in question, so that it could be studied by his own sharp gaze ─ not that there was much to analyze, but really, he didn't have much to do, anyway.
He turned it from side to side, finding nothing remotely interesting about it. Just as he had been expecting. Then again, there was little he could tell about if he didn't open the letter, but surely, Loid wouldn't be pleased to learn he had gone through his mail…
So he opened the letter, mercilessly tearing through the envelope to discover Eden Academy's unmistakable logotype.
Oh, yeah, he remembered. They were going to send one, stating the following steps after the entrance test…
But to think they would get one a single hour after the results were published… Eden is scary, concluded Conan, half-lidded eyes skimming through the lines.
Oh? A family interview? He chuckled. I feel bad for Twilight-san already-
He stopped himself, reading over the letter once more. And then again, his eyebrow rising above his hairline at what he had just read. This is ridiculous, he thought once he realized that he had read right. Is this seriously a requirement?
Then again, it wasn't his problem. Shrugging, he put the letter aside, stealing one glance at his side, and felt himself stop in surprise. Eventually, he relaxed, and was unable to fight the smile that drew itself on his features at the sight that had met him.
That of Anya cuddling with her adopted father who remained blissfully asleep and, Conan dared to say, comfortable like he had never seen him before.
Hadn't he known better, he would have said they looked like an actual family; father and daughter, linked by an unbreakable bond of love that would prevail forever and beyond. But of course, Conan did know better, so he did not think further about it.
Appearances could be deceiving, he knew that well. No matter how genuinely comfortable he looked right now, with Anya nuzzling closer to him, Loid was still Twilight. A spy with a mission Conan barely even grasped, who had forged a family for intentions that went beyond affection and love. Who was definitely going to discard them the moment they proved they weren't fit for the work he had imposed over them, without their consent.
Today, Conan had gotten the chance to do away with this unfortunate predicament. But apparently, he couldn't even do that right.
Sighing, he busied himself with the newspaper. Without Loid's filtering, thus free to read through the bloodier cases, he believed he would find something interesting to pass the time. His disappointment was great when he realized that had been far off the case, however.
Not even Shinichi Kudo, who had religiously appeared on each and every single edition, was mentioned even once. Instead, they had just filled the pages with another relevant case or story they had found somewhere else, and carried on with their lives.
It was as though the world had forgotten he existed.
And unfortunately, there was nobody to blame but himself. If only he had been smarter, if he had stayed put and called the police instead of chasing that one suspicious man in black ─ Vodka, at least he knew that much. And Gin, the man who attacked me from behind.
He had their codenames now ─ such an outstanding improvement to his condition, he mused in between a dry laugh he couldn't help. It was astonishing how much progress he had accomplished ever since he became a Forger, truly remarkable and absolutely impressive ─ like, Conan had officially learned his multiplication tables last week and could recite the alphabet backwards.
He had never felt such a strong urge to smother himself with a newspaper.
Obviously, no good would come from it, so he settled with the next best thing. Muffling a groan with the aforementioned newspaper, Conan decided he didn't even want to think what those men could be doing right now while he was there, wasting time.
Maybe they were just making some harmless shady transactions and blowing people up, sure, but what if they were still poisoning unfortunate witnesses on a daily basis? What if someone shrinks in front of them and they make the connection back to him? If they haven't already. Then again, there was that woman. What if she had…?
He gritted his teeth, keeping a growl in. Those men in black-
He stopped himself, suddenly reminded of something. People that wore dark… An organization…
Her faint smile flashed behind his eyelids, the bloody imprint she left behind after gripping his hand so tightly in her last moments. Masami-san, he thought, settling back. To think that you, at that time…
He cast a grim look over the newspaper from an increased distance. Even though it had been fairly more stubborn than any other there, her case had also faded away from existence. It couldn't be found anymore, anywhere.
Seems like the world forgot about you, too.
A startled shriek nearly made the boy jump out of his skin. His attention was brusquely torn from the newspaper to the figure that had abruptly incorporated, all but bumping into him, the small child that sat beside him. Unaware of the true extent of whatever emergency had seemed to startle the spy so badly, Conan tensed in alarm, ready to act in the face of danger.
"What do you think you're doing?! Are you trying to kill me?"
Loid was screaming at Anya, who kept on smiling, despite being explicitly told how much of a menace she was ─ maybe that was the point? Maybe she did like being the menace? ─ and while Conan understood that she could be a danger by itself, it was not the kind of danger he had expected to face.
Conan stared, the tension draining instantly. "She's six."
Now, Loid was the one staring back at him, whatever burst of random adrenaline that had jostled him awake earlier vanishing. Conan did not bat an eye, and passed him the letter that he had been reading earlier.
The surprise of finding the name Eden Academy attached to it probably saved Conan a scolding for reading it before him. He waited patiently, searching in his face for any sign that could tell him he had reached that one part.
But his face remained smooth as always. Maybe he, as a spy-
Nevermind. There it was ─ the slight widening of his eyes, the faint trembling of his hands as they gripped the letter.
Anya peered over at the letter. "What's the matter, Papa?"
"The second phase of the admission process is a family interview," he read slowly, as if carefully chewing each word. "It is mandatory that the applicant attend with both parents. Absolutely no exceptions."
Anya's face turned white with horror.
"But Mama doesn't exist."
For whatever reason, Conan found himself at a cemetery that night.
As to how, it was probably a long story of its own; a combination of luck and his own stubbornness not to be confined to a single place. That, and the fact that Loid had asked that one guy with the bushy hair ─ whose name Conan wasn't bothered to remember ─ to look after them to do whatever spies did around midnight.
He had found a window on the toilet just the other day. A small one, but big enough for an elementary school student to fit through ─ now, he was definitely not going to thank fate's small mercies for his sudden shrinking, but he would take any advantages he could get.
In any case, it did the job perfectly, allowing the boy free to roam around Berlint streets like a stray cat at night.
Hence, his current situation.
He didn't know what had taken him there, really, more than thoughtless impulsivity and a lack of actual leads to follow. Maybe it had been nothing but an unconscious desire to verify that his name had not been engraved on one of those tombstones yet ─ which, were it to be true, it would be a truly irrational and stupid fear because he hadn't been missing for so long.
Perhaps he wanted to make sure there was no name he could recognize and cry over. That none of those people in black had decided to cut loose leads already despite his best attempts to prevent a tragedy, leaving no familiar face around to greet him once he returned to Beika, victorious and with an age-adequate body newly recovered.
Or maybe…
In the distance, he spotted a name he could recognize. That of a woman who he had once failed to save. Whose last words he had failed to comprehend until it was too late and reality had to rise to smack him on the face ─ or the head, technically.
There, he found Masami Hirota's resting place.
She wasn't alone. To his great surprise, Conan's eyes caught with slender fingers, grazing the cold stone where her name was engraved. He stepped back, finding solace in between the shadows and a safe hiding place behind a tree big enough ─ which, considering the obvious, wasn't all that hard.
Red eyes flickered to the spot where he had been standing a few seconds prior. They narrowed slightly in suspicion as Conan waited with a bated breath for her to call him out, or something. But eventually, she seemed to decide it was nothing but a product of her own imagination and went back to the tombstone, bringing the boy nothing but overwhelming relief.
A bittersweet smile drew itself on delicate features, tucking a black strand of hair behind her ear.
Conan watched it all in awe. Considering her way of life, he didn't think that Masami-san would have friends. But here she was; the living proof that he had overlooked something.
"I can't believe you would do something like that," the woman murmured. "That you… were such a different person than the one I met."
There was a hint of resentment in her voice, and truly, Conan could not blame this unfamiliar woman. He had been born in Ostania, too, so he could understand where she was coming from. The concept of patriotism had also been drilled into his head since he was a child ─ the first time around. He had been told over and over that this country was all it was good in this world, that dying for its sake was the most honorable way to go.
Even though he never spoke of it out loud, Shinichi knew his father found that belief incredibly illogical and faulted. His mother had been a little louder about her disagreement, though, but whole-heartedly shared that feeling. So, as a direct result of his upbringing, Shinichi had grown to be indifferent towards everything related to it.
But as his career as a detective progressed, he began to come into contact with all sorts of people. People like her were incredibly common these days. To her, robbing her country would probably be a truly unforgivable sin, no matter how close they used to be.
Or maybe I'm just reading too much into it.
He shrugged, then turned back around, seeking to give this grieving woman some space.
"But in the end… we all pretend to be someone we're not."
Conan stopped in his tracks. Twisting his head to glance over his shoulder, he saw her red gaze taking an extremely different, almost dangerous glint.
"I'm sorry. I had no choice."
Just like that, she stood up, bowed lightly and promptly left, steps muted as she disappeared from his much bewildered sight.
And even moments after she was gone, the boy did not even move a finger. It wasn't until probably a minute later that it really dawned on him that he should have followed that woman.
Groaning, he pressed a hand to his face. Leads were hard to find as they were; he couldn't just let them slip away just because he was surprised. Considering his abysmal amount of luck ─ note the sarcasm here ─ it was obvious that he would not cross paths with her ever again.
What a waste, he thought dejectedly, as he slowly undertook his way back home. But it can't be helped.
Hopefully, tomorrow might bring a brand new clue to him. Future was unpredictable after all, he had long learned his lesson by now, so there was no telling what would be awaiting him the next day. That notion would prevail well onto the next day, strengthening at the sight that awaited him the following morning. It was surprising, absolutely unexpected, indeed…
But at what cost?
Surprise dulled from his features as he came to terms with whatever his own two eyes were seeing.
"What are you doing?" he asked blandly.
The guy spun around, surprise filling every inch of his features. Covered with ridiculous amounts of makeup, enough to cause his face to fall off. And probably give his mother a stroke if she were to witness such a sight.
"That's how you talk to your mother?" the guy gasped indignantly. At the lack of reaction, he pressed his glasses closer to his face, looking down at him like an unamused librarian to a particularly loud child. "You better apologize to me, young man."
Rather than an apology, all the guy received ─ he should probably bother to learn his name by now ─ was a dull, long look, but soon even that was stripped away from him.
Conan turned to Loid, who currently sat there in silence. Regretting his life choices, for sure.
"Please, tell me she's not," the boy said, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the guy wincing, undoubtedly hurt.
"She's not."
A quick response from the blonde spy had his attention grasped from the kid and to him. Even little Anya, who had been eyeing him for a while now, appeared sort of relieved at her father's declaration.
"You're just not going to cut it for the mother role, Franky."
Oh, Franky-san, it is. Conan made a mental note to remember that name this time. For a couple of months, at the very least. At least that's better than calling him 'Mother'.
Fighting back a relieved sigh, Conan decided to step back and leave them to discuss ─ in between hushed voices and frantic whispering things he could clearly hear but wasn't supposed to ─ their next course of action. Though, even if he couldn't, it wouldn't be hard to imagine the desperation they were currently going through. It was obvious enough just by a single glimpse of their faces.
Finding a woman willing to marry a man with two children in so little time sounded like an impossible task. Don't they have female spies hanging around, or something? Conan was almost certain there were none available because, well, he couldn't think of a single reason why disguising Franky as a woman was a more viable choice.
He plopped down onto the couch, hands sliding inside his pockets as he watched the credits of an old movie, forgotten by anyone around, roll by. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Anya approaching a depressed Franky to offer him some peanuts in a childish attempt to cheer him up. Loid remained silent, sitting at the sofa on the other end of the coffee table, a distant, thoughtful look on his face.
Although the idea of having yet another mother was disturbing enough, Conan found himself growing curious. About him, Twilight, the spy that shared a roof with him. About how he was going to turn things around in his favor.
His eyes flickered back to the TV and involuntarily smiled.
Ah, Detective Samonji, it's on, he thought, positively surprised. I remember following this series when I was in middle school, but ended up dropping it half-way. School was to blame, toppled over with the thousands of cases that wafted their way to him ever since his detective career took flight. I've been wanting to catch up forever…
Conan allowed himself to lean forward, paying close attention to the people moving behind the screen ─ wondering if those faces he couldn't recognize were recurring characters that were introduced in earlier episodes, or if they were going to be murdered in any second now.
Though a part of him wouldn't stop nagging at him about him. It kept on telling him that this was wrong ─ what was wrong with him, relaxing around a bunch of people he wasn't acquainted with? It told him he was getting used to it too easily, too quickly to be normal.
These people were not his family, he had to remind himself. Conan Forger wasn't even a real person.
But then, someone got murdered on screen, and the thoughts about the show he used to love for so long overrode everything else, letting it all fade into nothing.
Franky showed up the very next day. Without saying a single word, or even glancing over to Conan as he walked past him, he made his way inside and slammed a pile of files over the table in their dining room.
Next, he raised his gaze to meet Loid's and stated, "I copied all the files of unmarried women from city hall."
Conan observed them from the doorway, unblinking. Wow, they aren't even trying to hide it.
As of late, that had become the norm in Conan's life, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about it. On one hand, this new, shrunken form let him slip through unnoticed, to overhear conversations he wouldn't be allowed to if he was a teenager who was more than capable of understanding the implications of it all. Adults wouldn't bother to spare a glance at the pint-sized bespectacled runt ─ secretly a detective ─ who simply was hanging around doing whatever six-year-olds liked to do in their spare time.
And the other, well, yeah. It was extremely embarrassing, revolting, degrading.
"You need one who won't care if you're divorced with kids, is refined enough for a prestigious school, and is willing to get married within hours?" Franky crossed his arms over his chest, scoffing. "If a goddess like that exists, I'd sure love to meet her."
To be fair, he wasn't the only one. I'm actually curious, thought Conan. But skeptical, more than anything else…
Finding someone that met all those requirements was no easy feat, if not to say it was basically impossible to happen. Frankly speaking, Conan doubted that, amongst the dozen upon dozen of files Franky had delivered to Loid, there would be a single woman who was gullible, or desperate, enough to commit to it.
If there was one, well, Conan wasn't sure whether he was interested in meeting her, or being worried over a character like that being thrown into this crazy mix of strangers he was supposed to call 'family' nowadays.
Sighing, the boy made his way further inside the room, where Spy Wars' theme song started to fill the room and the whispers from the two adults began to subside into a mostly inaudible mutter.
Anya was jumping in front of the TV, unable to contain her excitement. Loid gazed down at his files, a focused frown fixed on his features. Conan could not help but wonder how drastically their days would change with the introduction of a mother figure.
Franky barely cast the boy a glance, giving his presence no further precedence. He turned to Loid again, and continued from where he had interrupted himself, "Finding dirt on them might help, too. If they don't have any, we can always make some up."
Loid did not even look away from the files to answer, "I'd like to avoid anything risky."
"Oh, please. She's plenty risky." His finger pointed forward. "She definitely doesn't look like any princess from a rich family."
Watching the pink-haired little girl bouncing on her feet as she stood a little too close to the television, Loid felt himself restraining a sigh. "I need to at least do something about her appearance," he admitted, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Franky observed her for a while longer, before returning to his work with nothing but a shrug of his shoulders. "If it makes you feel better, I suppose you don't have to work a lot in his appearance."
Loid looked over at Conan who, in turn, merely stared at Anya ─ his gaze dull and empty, like he was secretly wondering what had his life come to. Today, he was wearing those clothes again. His only set, or rather, the only ones he had brought from the orphanage ─ the blue blazer, the bowtie… Certainly, it wasn't the outfit he would expect from a homeless kid, nor from the son of an ordinary, middle-class family, for that matter.
Not only that… The way he moves, the way he talks… It's as though he was born into a well-off family.
Fumiyo Edogawa, the woman who had once claimed to be his mother, immediately crossed his mind. From appearances alone, the woman could have certainly come from a wealthy family, so in that regard, it did make sense. Only that she had mysteriously vanished to the point that not even WISE was capable of finding her, making it impossible to investigate further.
With that in mind, how did he wound up in that situation? wondered Twilight. Alone in an amusement park, wounded in the head, wrapped in adult clothes…
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't think of a single reason for that.
Or rather, he didn't want to think of one.
"Hey, come to think of it, he might actually be able to pull it off," commented Franky.
"He might." He, again, sighed into his hand. "As long as he keeps his mouth shut."
"What, really? He just looks like a perfect angel, you know. Just look at him-" Franky looked up and promptly froze in place. "Huh? Where is-?"
"Eh~? It's full of pretty ladies here…" And promptly flinched back, hand on his chest as if to calm down an oncoming heart-attack after spotting the kid right there, next to him, wide eyes swiftly scanning each and every file spread all over the table. "Did you take these photographs, Uncle?"
Franky stuttered incoherently, far too taken aback for any proper response. Granting him no time to compose himself, little hands grabbed the file right at the top of the pile.
"Is one of these going to be our mother?" he chirped, going through the documents with a bright smile on his face. "Say, say, can we pick one? Hey, Anya, which one-?"
Abruptly, his words were cut off, just at the same time that his feet separated from the ground and were left to hang uselessly in plain air. There was a hand grabbing onto the back of his shirt, as if he was nothing but a tiny puppy ─ at the mere thought of it, Conan was unable to conceal a wince, but went unnoticed.
"You're not picking anyone today," he heard Loid's voice, brimming with annoyance and exhaustion, from right behind him. "I'm the one choosing."
"Eh?" he whined, his voice raising an octave higher than usual. "Why?"
Anya was digging holes in the back of his head, her gaze unreadably dull.
Whereas Loid merely raised an eyebrow, casting him one last, pointed look, before finally letting him back on firm ground. He wasn't told to go away to let them work this out in peace, per se, but the air had suddenly tensed around him, making the unspoken message painfully obvious.
Conan rapidly obliged, trotting away with a careless shrug ─ and maybe an obligatory pout to show his supposed disappointment over not letting him have his way. But in reality, he was struggling to keep a satisfied smirk hidden deeply buried within himself.
Because he had gotten a glimpse of her ─ the red-eyed mystery from the other night.
Yor Briar, 27, he had gotten to read. A civil servant with no criminal record.
Granted, he might have gathered much more information if he hadn't been stopped from reading any further, but then again, he figured there wouldn't be much further to find out about her. It would have been too easy, and Shinichi had long learned that nothing was ever that simple.
But a name is a name, he thought. At least I got something to go by.
And perhaps, he was just a step further… A step further into shedding some light in that one case he had been unable to solve, all that long ago.
Taking his usual spot on the usual sofa, the young detective allowed the memories from that day to drown over his every thought. Crossing his arms over his chest, eyes sliding closer, he tried to picture the scene, tried to feel, to pick on something he might have overseen back when the tragedy struck.
I barely even knew anything about Masami-san, he thought. She came to me one day, claiming that she wanted nothing but to see her father again.
Which had been an obvious lie. In reality, Masami had been a criminal involved in a billionaire robbery that week, seeking to find her partners in crime instead. Once he had figured it all out, Shinichi had immediately departed to look for her, to confront her.
He found her at the end, bleeding from a fatal gunshot to her stomach. Wasted her last breath warning him about those men she had been acquainted with. People who dressed black as crows, bringing death to those that dared to cross their way. Shinichi did not understand any of it until weeks later, long after he had found himself drowning in his own clothes and tangled in a fake family relationship he wanted no part of.
That woman, Yor Briar, seemed to know her, however. Conan opened his eyes, narrowing at nothing in particular. Apologized to her on her grave… for doing what? She mentioned 'having no choice'...
Could it be…? The person that shot Masami-san…
Now again, it was all circumstantial evidence. But there had been something about her that screamed danger, that spoke of something far darker dwelling beneath the surface. Something he was still unaware of.
Shinichi Kudo was a detective, a man of logic. And logically speaking, there was nothing to say for sure that she was someone to be suspected, or to worry about. But as long as Masami's feeble smile remained engraved in his retinas, he couldn't really stop thinking about it.
That being said, Conan did not think he would see her again.
But, of course, fate was always eager to prove him wrong.
Every. Single. Time.