Mission Eleven: Surviving the Entrance Exam
When Conan found that certain, lone phone booth across the street, he knew it was going to be one of those days.
Admittedly, at this point it was becoming more of an everyday thing, but Conan was adamant that it was but a phase brought by his impromptu visit to his old home. One that was bound to vanish without leaving a trace, and soon, he would be free to forget that any of this had even happened in the first place.
Soon, he would be finally freed from thoughts of a phone handset far too large for his tiny fingers to curl around, and the sweet voice that he hadn't been able to respond to. From that one photograph they had taken together, or her scribbled note that begged at him to say something, anything, to her.
His feet, having long halted at the sight, itched to move closer. His fingers, however, grazed his throat as if they wanted to talk some sense into his thick skull. As if they could remind him that it was useless, no matter how alluring.
One day, Shinichi decided. Tearing his gaze back forward, and with a bitten lip, he walked away.
One day, I will tell her with my own voice. I will tell her that I'm okay, that I'm finally back home.
One day… Surely, it will come.
Blue eyes flickered towards the tip of his bright red shoes, that were a few sizes too small. A pair of non-prescription glasses sat heavily on his nose bridge, where he had spotted the smallest of bruises forming this morning, when he washed his face and found that strange kid reflected in the mirror.
When will that be? he found himself asking, before he could stop himself. It didn't matter, in the end. For one day, he'd be sitting at his home again, smiling in realization that it had been worth the sacrifices, and even the extremely long wait.
For all he knew, it could only take weeks. Weeks could easily turn into months, however, and months into years. Years in which his favorite books would sit to collect dust and mold had free rein to climb over walls. Years in which Ran's words would fade away, leaving behind a forgotten postcard and an old photograph stuffed into some random drawer.
Years wasted away, wishing both to go back and forward in time, striving to recover the life he had cherished so much.
And then, he'd come back. Shinichi wondered if Ran would be there, arms open and a warm smile on her face, or if she would have already grown into the independent woman he knew she'd become. If she would have already moved away from the small town they had both loved, to follow the path she had chosen for a bright future.
Where would he fit in all of that? Shinichi could not seem to find an answer to that.
"I'm telling you, guys! We'll become the greatest detectives to have ever detectived."
"That isn't even a word, Genta-kun."
"Who cares?"
Well, Genta didn't, that was for sure.
He had the nagging suspicion that the same applied to both girls, Anya and Ayumi, currently too busy taking the lead to be truly interested in grammatic. Not that Conan had a clue where they were leading them too, and probably neither did they, but in the grand scheme of things it did not really matter where, as long as they went somewhere.
Or so Ayumi had said earlier. He doubted they were heading somewhere in particular, but if you asked him, Conan hoped that place was home ─ or more like, the closest thing currently available, which happened to be the apartment complex he currently resided in.
Home momentarily was out of limits. In order to get there, he'd have to take the long way back. First, he would have to find more about the organization that shrunk him so that he could destroy it for good. Then he could think of getting his body back and finding his way home again.
It looked good on paper, difficult, but not impossible. High School Detective Shinichi Kudo was on the case, so one way or another, he would find a way to make it happen, right?
Conan sighed audibly, certainly not for the first time today.
He might not be all too clear on how to take down an entire criminal syndicate all on his own, but he had the feeling that getting roped up into a detective club with a bunch of rowdy six-year-olds was not the way to go.
Detective Boys was the name the kids had chosen, 'unanimously', even though Conan had argued that it was a horrible name. His opinion had been vetoed for a supposed lack of coherency and completely disregarded ─ which was, in reality, a subtler way of saying that his voice did not have any weight at all. Well, color him surprised, because he had been forced to join even though he clearly wanted no part in this.
Children could be extremely unfair when they wanted to be. Even Anya, wasn't she supposed to play her part as his sister? That little traitor.
"Confidence is a great skill to have," Conan pointed out. "But it's hard to back it up when we haven't even taken one case in yet."
He sure hoped they never did, though. Normally, the most children their age could aspire to get were missing cat cases, and God, it was almost offensive to call them 'cases'. He would rather snack on a few cyanide pills than endure such mind-numbing torture.
"We just need to be patient," Ayumi said with a bright smile on her face. "Once school starts, we can get clients. We'll become famous in no time!"
Anya beamed, her eyes sparkling. "Fame!"
His inner Shinichi couldn't help but cringe, remembering a time when he was just a kid, forever excited by the prospect of fame and recognition for his deductive skills. Needless to say, given the recent turn of events, he was now aware of how easily it could backfire when he got a few years older. It had in his case, and admittedly, he could've gotten it much worse.
It'll eventually get into your head. And kill you way before you hit your twenties.
Suddenly, every bit of expression was wiped out from Anya's face. Noticing this, Ayumi blinked her eyes in confusion.
"Anya doesn't want fame anymore," she said, staring blankly back at her. "It only brings bad things."
For a moment, Ayumi didn't seem to know what to do. Conan couldn't help but feel a tinge of satisfaction at seeing her, the cunning little demon who had dragged him into this mess, speechless like this.
Welcome to the club, Ayumi-chan, he thought, fighting off a smirk. We don't have cookies, though.
Without a clear reason, Mitsuhiko smiled ─ had been, actually, for the entirety of the odd interaction. And while Conan couldn't say he wanted to act much differently, it made Conan wonder if he had actually been listening to begin with. That, or Mitsuhiko's inner voice was not as kind and polite as his outer persona was.
"Oh, speaking of which," he said out of the blue, turning to Conan. "Are you two going to attend Teitan Elementary too?"
Shinichi's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his old school name.
Mitsuhiko seemed to mistake that reaction with confusion, so he clarified, "I know it's in Beika, but I think it's the closest from where you live. It's like that for Ayumi-chan, so I assumed..."
"Mitsuhiko and I live in Beika," Genta commented with a grin. He turned to Anya, who stared cluelessly back. "So, are we seeing you two there?"
"Probably not," Conan answered. "We enrolled for Eden, but the interview is tomorrow, so we don't really know."
At the very least, he was almost completely sure he was not attending Teitan Elementary under any circumstances. Even in the highly unlikely case that Loid didn't turn them back to the orphanage as soon as they failed, he'd definitely have to find a way to avoid going there. If his old teachers were still working there, and one of them happened to recognize him… No, that was out of the question.
If push comes to shove, I'll have to run away, possibly to another city far from Berlint. I'll choose another identity and start all over.
It's not like Conan Forger has made much progress here, so there's nothing for me to lose even if we fail that interview.
Anya took a hesitant step closer to him.
And flinched as soon as he turned to her, frantically shaking her head before he could even arch his eyebrows.
He wasn't even allowed a word in response, interrupted by the collective gasp that snapped both of their silent, extremely brief and confusing exchange.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Genta was ogling at them, as if he was seeing them for the very first time, and though he was half-tempted to remind him that personal spaces were meant to be respected, Conan said nothing. "You're rich kids?!"
"Definitely not."
Well, pretty sure Anya isn't, at least.
He cut himself mid shrug when his gaze fell, by chance, on the clock tower standing in the middle of the public plaza. His eyes grew wide, and following his lead, his sister did the same, only that in her case it was confusion what he noticed dancing behind those big eyes of hers.
Conan suddenly was reminded that Anya had cheated on her exam and didn't really know how to read a clock. Loid definitely needed to do something before a teacher noticed it, the boy thought. It wasn't like she could indefinitely cheat her way through school.
"We should start heading home," Conan told Anya, grimacing. "I don't want Dad adding three extra hours of world history to my study schedule."
Mitsuhiko looked slightly surprised to hear that. "Sounds like he's strict."
"He kind of is. But this time it's because I'm grounded."
"And he still lets you hang out with us?!" Genta gasped in pure disbelief. "Mom doesn't let me take a foot out of my house when I'm grounded!"
I think that's the whole point, Conan mused, struggling to keep his smile straight and his eyebrow from twitching. I wouldn't be hanging out with these kids if I could help it.
And thus they kept on walking, falling back into casual, childish conversation. Immersed in themselves as they were, hardly nobody noticed the bespectacled young boy shooting one last glance over his shoulder, before deflating in a dejected sigh, and leaving for good.
Nobody, but a little pink haired girl who, in silence, contemplated the telephone booth for a moment further, watching as it shrunk with every step they took until it disappeared for good.
Before long, that day came.
'That day' being that specific event that had turned Loid into the personification of stress, anxiety and a stomach-churning dread that grew more and more powerful with each day passing by ─ a fact that he had strived to hide so valiantly, Conan would admit to it.
Loid's only mistake had been ignorance, and with that he meant not knowing that he had brought a detective to live under his same roof. One that wouldn't fail in recognizing the tension on his shoulders every time he sat down with a mug of coffee and pretended to be relaxing ─ but come to think of it, it didn't really take a detective to see all of that. In fact, he even remembered one instance where Yor had noticed the same thing, and had tried to reassure him that they'd do just fine.
It could've been her broad smile, or maybe the sight he caught from over her shoulder of Anya dropping her cocoa all over her lap, but in the end, all that happened afterwards had been an exacerbation of his symptoms.
He's tougher than he looks, that guy, Conan thought, back in the present, humming as he fixed his bowtie. I'd have expected to find a few white hairs on him at the end of the week.
Once finished, the boy stepped back to contemplate his appearance reflected in the mirror, and saw himself squinting his eyes. Indeed, I might as well be using the same clothes I wear every single day. That, with the sole exception of the black, fancier pair of shoes that replaced those bright red regular ones, he looked none too different from his usual attire.
But the last time he had brought that up, Yor had only responded that he looked absolutely adorable in his new clothes, and Loid had reminded him that the people they were trying to impress could tell the difference, even if Conan could not.
Which was insulting on so many levels. What kind of self-respecting detective wouldn't notice that his blazer was now a shade of blue deeper, or that its texture felt much smoother against his skin? Conan wasn't blind, he could see that the materials it had been fabricated with were of an obviously much higher quality, which in turn justified its much elevated price. His glasses did not have a prescription for a reason.
All he had been trying to say was nobody else would be able to tell, not that he couldn't. Thank you very much.
The nerve, some people.
"Conan?" He heard Loid's voice calling for him. It was thicker than he remembered, but he wasn't sure if it was anxiety-shaped or just muffled by the toilet's door.
"Coming!" he replied right away, fearing that Loid would somehow convince himself he had somehow unsealed the window and jumped off to freedom.
Which he had been tempted to do, but had to refrain himself because he couldn't think of a way to seal it back after he was gone. Scribbling 'good riddance' on a sticky note, slapping it into Anya's forehead and sending her Loid's way would have been subtler.
Left out of options, he jumped off his stool and joined the rest of his pretend family in the living room.
"The time has come," Loid announced, grabbing onto his hat ─ not his usual hat, mind him, but a black, clearly more expensive, one. "Personal effects check."
Yor diligently rummaged through her purse and nodded. "All clear."
"Appearance check."
Conan didn't even get the chance to tell Yor that he'd fixed his bowtie already. Once she was done with him, she quickly checked on Anya and nodded again. "All clear."
"Final check of your verbal etiquette."
"All set, please," Anya said, suddenly rigid. "Will do my best, please."
I want to die, please, Conan thought, sarcastically.
And so, they were set ─ fully prepared, even if Conan's opinion conflicted with the general one. Or at least, what the official opinion was, because he knew for a fact that Loid would probably be quaking in his boots right now if he didn't have pride, and a few years of experience as an intelligence agent under his belt.
Eden Academy was just as imposing as the last time he had seen it, extending all over what Yor's bewildered eyes could see. She had stumbled back earlier, a bit too close to the stairs for Conan to be comfortable with, so he had actually suggested that she step away from there ─ for he was sure that a cracked skull wasn't the way she wanted to start her day, nor would it make their graceful family act any more believable for the hundreds of eyes currently on them.
Because, yeah, they were being watched ─ closely, from so many directions that he couldn't even tell anymore. If he raised his head, though, he knew he would be able to see the examiners' sharp gazes carefully surveying the entire crowd from behind the windows. But that would also screw over any chances of playing the clueless little kid if needed in the future.
Judging by the intensity of the scrutiny they were subjected to, Conan had the feeling he would need all he could get.
"I need you all to be on your guard," Loid said, pointedly looking at the front. So he's avoiding eye-contact too, huh? "We're being watched by the examiners."
Conan wondered if he should act surprised, but then he realized his lack of an immediate reaction had already ruled that possibility out. He decided that a non-committal hum was the best he could offer and lifted his head without giving the spy the chance to ponder about it.
"Oh," he said, his voice plain with boredom. "That's the thing you mentioned before, isn't it?"
The object he was nodding towards was a statue, positioned in the middle of the road and massive enough for Conan to wonder why nobody else was stopping by to, at least, look at it. Whoever had built this thing hadn't been very subtle in their attempts to show how important that person was to Eden as a whole, so the question was why no one else had thought to pay their respects ─ if only for the sake of a few, juicy extra points and a nod of approval from the examiners.
Then again, none of them probably realized they were being watched in the first place. What a bunch of clueless fools.
Which was a funny thing to say, since Conan definitely felt like one right now ─ with his hand pressed to his chest in front of some old guy's statue, in a grand display of the unwavering respect and admiration he definitely did not have.
Loid had molded his features into a rather believable, but definitely fake, solemn expression. He was going all the way, he seemed, which Conan could find rather admirable.
Especially since it took some skill to pretend not to notice that Yor's smile was a little too awkward ─ Conan would bet she didn't have the slightest idea who this man was. It was easy to see how Anya's eyes kept drifting to the flawless rendering of the sparkling bald head of Eden's founder. And Conan, of course, who had to hold back a yawn because he couldn't care less about this whole thing.
After an uncomfortable few seconds of standing in silence, they walked away. Whether they had convinced the jury above their heads, Conan could not be sure.
"K-211 and K-212. Please head to Hall 1."
And so their journey continued, past what was probably the only examiner who had the courage to actually face them ─ though, to be fair, he might not have been ranked high enough to earn the privilege of hiding. But at least they had passed the first test, which meant that the statue thing had miraculously worked.
That hardly meant they were allowed to rest. The gazes had not vanished, and in fact, they had strengthened ─ piercing through their souls with the sharpness of a thousand knives, concentrated on a single point. Not that makes any sense, though.
"Oh, no!" The wind carried the desperate call of help of a young boy to his ears, and instinctively felt himself sigh. He didn't need to look to know what they were trying to test them with. "I've accidentally fallen into the gutter, and I can't get out!"
Eventually he turned his head to the source, and yup, he had been right. Exactly as the voice had described it, the boy, clad in his possibly ridiculously expensive school uniform, was chest deep into the smelly sewage water.
Normally, Conan thought he might feel bad about this poor little boy who had accidentally slipped into this horrible, terrible predicament he couldn't get off on his own.
Except for the fact that the lids of the gutter were laying a few feet from him. Their position, and the fact that they were open without proper supervision on this day in particular, did not make it any easier for the shrunken detective to believe it was accidental.
Or that, even though the boy was a bit on the chubby side, Conan could clearly see that he was much smaller than the hole he had fallen to, so he was not stuck to begin with. He wasn't too deep in either, and could easily push himself up if he wanted. And besides, he was wearing the uniform when the school year hadn't even started yet.
Hard to believe he had been here and fallen by chance.
Surely, he couldn't be the only one seeing all these faults in the examiner's planning, could he? Even if it was fake, it wouldn't have hurt to put a little more thinking on this, if only for coherence's sake.
And his sanity's too.
"Ah, I don't know what I should do? Who knew there'd be a gutter here?" the boy kept on screaming. "I'm so shocked. I'm really stuck."
Oh, be careful, Mom, Conan thought sarcastically. This young actor in the making is sure to become a movie star, a much brighter one than you've ever been.
Even on the verge of rolling his eyes, Conan managed to restrain himself. If only because he felt Loid's gaze fixing on his back, and the urge to sigh was fairly stronger. He didn't do either, though, and merely opened his eyes wide with a quiet gasp.
"Oh, no," he said, blandly. Robotically, more like it. "It would seem there is someone in deep trouble."
His mother would probably be ashamed if she ever saw that, but to be fair, he hadn't really tried. Fortunately for him and her, she wasn't there to witness it, let alone comment on it.
"Brother is correct!" Anya exclaimed, pointing towards where the boy 'in distress' was. "Papa! Mama! Let us save him!"
Well, at least she was trying. Which was more than what anyone else around could say.
Loid immediately walked over, Anya trotting right in tow. A concerned frown shaped the father's features as he asked him, "Are you all right, lad?"
The boy started struggling harder, splashing filthy water everywhere and crying, "Oh, no! I've slipped and I cannot get up!"
Conan would probably have slipped right then and there, plainly stating that he had already stated that, maybe a dozen of times already. But if he stopped himself, it wasn't for his self-control, but an honest concern blossoming from deep within him.
This can't be sanitary, he thought, struggling not to scrunch his nose.
Next thing he knew, the boy was being flung out of his predicament ─ effortlessly, as if he weighed nothing. As the dirty water splattered all over him, and Anya, who was standing nearby, Conan wondered if the man had a secret thing for dramatics. Even if he stood with one foot on either side of the gutter, and not inside, the final result would barely change at all.
Why were most people he knew like that? Shinichi could definitely do without the overuse of dramatics. Overuse, because just a little bit was fine; worked like a bit of spice to his deduction shows, so there was no way he was giving that up.
If you added too much of it, you'd get that ─ a family seeking a source of water to cleanse the smelly sewage off their clothes, and the recently rescued boy, standing a few feet away while fiddling with the handkerchief Anya had kindly offered him ─ as if that would help, the boy was drenched from chest to toe.
But whatever, Conan supposed it was his cue to act.
The friendly smile came easily to him as he approached.
"What is wrong?" he asked, blinking owlishly when the boy's head snapped towards him, almost violently enough to snap his spine in half. "Do you feel unwell?"
"N-No… I mean, uh…" He avoided his gaze, biting his lip. Shinichi had cornered enough murderers to know what a guilty look was when he saw one. But didn't act on it, instead watching as the boy shook his head and he screamed, "I'm so sorry!"
Fake confusion knitted his eyebrows for a moment, before he broke into a grin.
"There's nothing to be sorry about!" he told him, much to the boy's disconcert. "Look for yourself."
But the boy's bewilderment was nowhere as artificial as the detective's one, and honestly, it almost made him laugh for real. His eyes drifted away from it and fixated somewhere above his shoulder, which encouraged the young boy to spin on his heels. And gasp.
"Thank goodness we anticipated this," Yor said, a smile posed on her lips, "and prepared a change of clothes just in case!"
Then she turned to Loid as he buttoned up his brand new, clean jacket. "Besides, your gray suit seems to fit the attire at this school more," she pointed out.
"If I had continued wearing my previous suit, we would've been mistaken for commoners from the countryside." Smiling gently at the boy, who stepped back in a well-founded fright, he told him, "Thank you for giving us the opportunity to change, lad."
The boy wasn't sure how to reply, but Conan figured it was alright. It was never about him to begin with, but Twilight using every tool in disposition to make himself look good. Even the ones that were supposed to be used against him.
Anya magically manifested on Conan's side, with her arms raised and a bright grin stretched all over her face. "And we're matching now!" she exclaimed in joy. Then paused, pondered over her words and, softer, added, "... Please."
Conan sighed, but couldn't stop his lips from twitching into a small smile.
He took on the little girl's form, on the dress she had changed into that just so happened to be the same shade of blue his blazer was made of. And if that wasn't enough, there was that red little ribbon in the same spot where he had fixed his bowtie this morning.
As if Loid-san wasn't planning on this.
Conan suspected he had been, from the very beginning. Having the twins wear matching clothes was considered much more visually appealing for many, and considering they were going to be interviewed by people to whom a proper appearance was a must, Conan could see why he had thought of that.
"Please be more careful next time," Conan called, waving with a bright smile. "Have a good afternoon, senpai."
Bowing lightly, the boy joined his family, and together, the Forgers left this poor, lost boy to gape at their backs.
Back on their track to Hall 1 they were, ready to face the interview that Loid had been, and clearly was, dreading for. Once and for all.
It shouldn't be long. Unbelievable as that sounded, even to him, Conan actually wished they could hurry it up, so that he could finally get over and out with it. But being graceful also meant a slower walking pace, which the boy didn't think he could keep with for much longer.
But it was fine. He was almost there.
Just stop it with the stupid tests, for goodness' sake. Or at least, throw in one that shows that someone sat down and thought about it for at least a minute before approving it.
This was Eden, the famous academy where only the elite of the elite were allowed to attend. For all they pride themselves on exclusivity and quality, he'd think their examiners would have a slightly higher brain cell count than most people.
But now? He was seriously starting to reconsider his initial assumptions.
Please, anything, he begged, to nobody in particular. Anything, no matter how extreme-
A bell snapped him out of his thoughts, if only to wonder what was with all that noise, suddenly erupting somewhere behind him. Confused, he turned around, and promptly froze in place when he saw, for the first time, the commotion forming somewhere in the distance, steadily approaching them.
"Watch out!" someone yelled, somewhere in the distance. "The animals have escaped the farmhouse!"
Okay. He grimaced. Maybe not that extreme.
People were running, their terrified screams filling the entire campus as they tried to escape their otherwise inevitable death at the hands ─ or paws, or hooves, or claws ─ of a full-blown stampede.
And while it was undoubtedly an emergency situation developing right there in front of him, Conan wasn't able to keep himself from staring.
For school farm animals, there were all kinds of species right there, running without control and out for blood. Cows, horses, sheep, pigs, you name it ─ he was pretty sure he had even seen an owl, an eagle and an ostrich, for goodness' sake. What reason could there be for keeping any of those there?!
There are plenty of important people here, as examinees, Conan thought, his eyes narrowing. No examiner would be stupid enough to risk their lives for this.
Which meant that wasn't an accident. Maybe an assassination attempt? he wondered, before shaking his head. No. A tactic like this would only put the culprit in an unnecessary risk of exposing themselves. I doubt there are many people in charge of keeping an eye on these animals, let alone at this specific time and hour. The culprit would be busted in no time.
Then… What could it have been-?
His eyes widened slightly.
Isn't that ostrich running a little strangely? A second look confirmed that, indeed, there was a peculiar swaying as it moved, as though it was difficult to put its weight on its left foot.
The horse on the back, too ─ the way it moved its head from side to side as it dashed. The third eagle on the far right was flying a little lower than the rest on its row, and if he squinted his eyes, he could swear he could see the faintest of traces of a hoove, in the middle of a pig's round, large nose.
Huh, Conan thought. His fingers rose to cup his chin, watching as all those fragments of information agglomerated within his mind. Maybe that's what happened-
Something brushed his shoulder.
Startled out of his thoughts, the boy turned his head, just in time to see a few strands of strawberry blonde hair, from so close that it almost tickled his cheeks.
Gelid, teal-colored eyes pierced through his bewildered ones, and for some reason Conan couldn't figure out for himself, his breath caught in his throat. He could have sworn her lips had twitched into a smirk then, but before he could process a single thought, let alone confirm what his eyes were telling him, she was gone.
So he spun around, knitting his eyebrows together as he watched her go ─ a girl as small as unfamiliar, sandwiched in between a young couple that Conan could not hope to recognize either, as they ran away from his lives. Such was the sight that Conan couldn't seem to let go of, for motives that, again, eluded him completely.
Until he was forced to ─ was plucked out from the ground, and before he could even tell what was going on, his chin was hooked over someone else's shoulder. Likely Yor's, if the bits of ivory black hair waving in front of his eyes, along with the sight of Loid scooping Anya into his arms not far away from them, was something to judge by.
Warmth rose to his face at the delayed realization that he was being carried like a little kid.
This is… so degrading.
And the worst part was that he couldn't complain either, considering that he had been standing in front of the approaching stampede without moving a single finger. It was better to give up any hope he might have had about convincing them that he could take care of himself ─ it had never worked with Ran, why would it now?
That didn't make it any less frustrating.
"Do not break formation D!" Loid declared, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We will show these animals nothing but benevolence!"
To be honest, Conan did not have the slightest clue of what 'formation D' was. Hell, he didn't even know what 'formation A' had been like, let alone all the other letters that followed it.
Could 'formation D' mean, just, run for their lives? Because that was the only thing they had been doing all along.
Run away, and apparently pass his startled daughter to Yor so that he could jump out and save the vice minister of the Ministry of Finance's young son from being stomped to death. Conan supposed that worked, too.
That was kinda cool, actually, Conan admitted, gulping down the bitter spike of jealousy that had latched onto his throat. Why did he get to do all of that when he was stuck being held by Yor's iron grip like a literal first-grader? Sometimes, life just wasn't fair.
A groan, so soft he could have lost it among the cacophony of screams they were immersed in, brought him right out of his musings. It drew him away from his mind and the tiny figure in front of him, curled into the motherly hold they were both sharing.
"Anya?" he called out softly, concern tinting his voice.
But the girl hardly responded, nuzzling into her mother's chest in what he would assume to be a desperate search for warmth or comfort. Her cheeks had lost their adorable rosy color, and had drained into a ghostly white shade Conan had only seen a handful of times on her face ─ eyes closed tightly, her forehead scrunched to show the discomfort whose origins the detective wasn't sure about.
But he could make a guess, and was inclined to believe it had to do with the mass panic afflicting her ─ she didn't do well in crows to begin with, so he imagined that this must be infinitely worse.
He raised his head to share a look with Yor, and found her mirroring the expression he was probably making. Her grip on them tightened, drawing both children closer to herself and each other as she quickened her pace.
"Loid-san!" she cried. "It's happening to Anya-san again."
Like the woman before him, worry shaped Loid's normally stoic features as he gazed upon his daughter. Not that Conan was any better himself, he could tell, feeling his eyebrows draw closer the more he looked at the weak little girl beside him.
There must be something I can do, thought the detective, shifting so that he could look from over Yor's shoulder. And surely there must be something, only that Conan could not, for the life of him, figure it out. Yet, as he looked back at the herd that continued to approach them, too fast for his own liking, he was seriously doubting there was a way to stop them.
Or more like, stop the leader of this herd. The cow with the strange dark spot on its face, shaped as though a mask covering that glare that burned with the inextinguishable flames of rage. A clear signal that maybe they shouldn't stand there any longer, and had run before they could be flattened like a fresh batch of pancakes-
Conan was startled by the sudden notion of Yor's gentle, but strong hold ceasing to be. Then, it passed over into confusion when he realized that she had deposited him, and the little girl, into the arms of a similarly bewildered Loid.
"Please look after Anya-san and Conan-san for a moment."
Needless to say, there were so many questions that were spontaneously brought to life at the sight of those scarlet eyes ─ those eyes he had grown used to, yet at the same time, he found unfamiliar somehow; sharper, missing that certain adorably naive glint he had thought permanent in them.
She turned around, and Conan could have sworn her back used to be much smaller. She walked, closer to the deadly creature, her steps too light for his ears to pick on any sound. And even though there was so much he wanted to say, the bespectacled little boy found that his words had left him ─ taken by the wind that gently played with Yor's raven black hair, not to return them again.
He managed a weak croak, a hand shooting up as though he could reach her if he tried hard enough.
That was when she jumped.
More like, she leaped ─ several few meters into the sky before she landed on her heel shoes, gracefully as though as a bird landing for a well-deserved rest after an entire day of flying. And just as Conan was starting to process what his eyes had seen, the cow promptly fell ─ dropped with a resounding thud, not dissimilar to an old ragged puppet whose strings had been viciously cut down.
Loid gently placed them back onto the ground, his eyes stuck on Yor's motionless figure from afar. But even free from the hold that he had found so degrading before, Conan did not feel it within himself to step away so as not to risk a repeat, like he had been planning up until a few seconds ago.
His feet refused to move from their spot. All he did was to watch her, unblinking as if in a trance, and to get his sluggish brain to get back from its impromptu strike to do some work, as minimal as it may be.
She started with a flinch, the weight of her actions finally falling on her as she spun around.
"I-It's not what you think!" Yor screamed, and honestly, Conan was tempted to ask because he genuinely had no idea himself. "I once learned about pressure points that can stop one's movements in yoga class!"
Conan knew he might need to blink soon. His eyes were starting to sting.
"I-I figured they might work on cows, too!" Noticing that the rest of the herd was slowly backpedaling, she gasped. "D-Don't look at me like that!"
Wise animals, they were. Conan felt himself sigh wearily, massaging his temples as if that could keep the upcoming migraine at bay. It had never worked in the past, so logically there was no reason it would now, but Conan was beyond caring at this point and willing to do anything to prevent it.
Because he had the feeling that this one would be massive.
Remember Ran, he told himself. It's okay, you've seen her how she is, haven't you?
Yor-san is older than her, so it's probably those years what make the difference. In fact, there's a chance that Ran is going to be just as strong when she grows up, so it's not that strange-
Wait. I think I just scared myself even further.
"That's dangerous, Anya!"
Anya?
Confused, Conan opened the eyes he didn't remember closing to witness, much to his horror, what had guaranteed such a reaction from Loid. Anya was there, crouching in front of the cow that had been seconds away from slaughtering them and all of the examinees in one go.
Smiling, she petted the fallen animal. "It's okay," she soothed. "Don't be scared."
Loid was quick to scoop her into his arms and away, which Conan mentally thanked him profusely for. Not even giving him time to step back, the cow promptly stood up and met eyes with the girl.
Calmly, it turned around and walked right past Yor. It joined the rest of its group, and together, they went back to where they came from.
All four of them stared after them, watching them head away from them, until they eventually vanished into the distance. But even then, silence prevailed ─ though, as long as their minds were concerned, Conan had the sensation that it wasn't all that peaceful at all. It wasn't that way for him, in any case.
So it was scared, huh? he mused, a bit of a smile creeping up into his face. I suppose it makes sense.
He shrugged it off, fighting the urge to place his hands inside his pockets. Loid had mentioned it wasn't proper, and he knew for a fact that they were still being watched. The scrutiny on them had barely vanished after all, and he'd even dare to say that it had strengthened somehow. He supposed that shouldn't be surprising at all.
"Say, Dad," he called, blinking those innocent, big eyes at him ─ those that secretly told him that the exam wasn't over yet. "Nobody is going to get in trouble for this, right?"
He narrowed his gaze for a split second, but fairly enough to let him know that his message had been received. At the next second, he was smiling, placing a hand over his head.
"You do not need to concern yourself over it. Eden's authorities will have everything handled," he told him. "They will access the situation responsibly and thoroughly, and I have no doubt in my mind-"
"But it was just an accident!" Conan exclaimed, shaking his head from side to side. "If some poor, hard-working soul lost their job because of an unfortunate misunderstanding…"
"That…"
"There was a mark on that cow's forehead! That must mean that it head-butted its way out of where it was confined, doesn't it?" the boy pressed, his forehead scrunched up. "And the rest of the animals have marks as well, in their legs, tails and even ears. It was probably a chain reaction, where one of them accidentally hurt another, and then everyone grew more and more hostile to each other until there was no stopping them…"
Loid looked like he wanted to talk, but did not really know what to say. Conan struggled not to smirk at the expression he was painting for him.
This definitely wasn't necessary ─ in fact, it was probably counterproductive to him and his need not to stand up, especially in front of this person. But with Loid's swift rescue of a child in need, Yor's terrifying exhibition of her raw strength and Anya's display of her pure, empathetic heart… came this strange itch he couldn't seem to soothe.
I can't be left behind, he thought. I need to do something, too.
"What I'm trying to say is… Nobody was at fault for it. That's why…"
"That is why nobody is going to be punished for this incident."
At the unfamiliar voice, Conan turned around, perhaps a little too violently for his tastes, but it did serve its purpose. Because now he could see a figure towering over him ─ tall and with a perfect posture, his hair white as a testament to his long life, and a monocle to his right eye.
At first sight, the detective had the impression that he seemed to be an important person, and not a mere examiner. But seeing him there, breathing a little too heavily and trying to ignore the bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, Conan couldn't help but wonder if he had run the entire way here. Not so sophisticated now, huh?
"Your concern for people you are not acquainted with is truly elegant, young boy," he told him, his face rigid despite his kind tone. "However, as your father said, you should not concern yourself. We will assess the situation as it is required."
Conan nodded, slowly. The man's attention was drawn from him and to Loid.
"Forger. You have helped avoid a crisis. Thank you." He bowed lightly. "And… you have bested me today."
The bespectacled boy raised an eyebrow. Were they competing? he wondered. Though from the look the blonde spy was sporting, Conan could guess that this competition wasn't as bilateral as this examiner had hoped it to be.
"To give us all time to collect ourselves after this chaos, we will be delaying the start of the interviews."
Oh, really? Conan thought sarcastically as he looked around and, well. No words would describe the scene as perfectly as 'disaster'. I do wonder why that would be.
"Return to your hall once you've had a moment to tidy yourselves. Your family has the right to apply to this school."
There was a strange rustle from behind him, and really, Conan did not need to know to turn about to know what it was all about. And would probably have made a perfect guess, even if the examiner hadn't been there, with his bewildered, low-key terrified expression for him to read as easily as a book.
"I humbly thank you for your generosity. But have no fear. We anticipated something like this and prepared another change of clothes."
Loid tipped his fresh black top hat slightly forward, while Yor, in her beautiful pink dress, bowed slightly at the examiner.
Conan would probably have laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, but that would imply breaking character ─ and an angry Loid was something he definitely did not need.
He may have smirked, though.
A/N
Guest: Being honest, I'm not all too clear on that. I've heard that SpyFam is set in the 70's, taking some creative liberties regarding technology that could be too advanced for that time period. I was hoping I could go for the same route in this fic.