Interlude

Of fathers and daughters

"Hakase," the girl called to him in alarm. She grabs the fire extinguisher that was by the side. Black smog billowed from the stove upon which he had tested his invention. Ai-kun doused the fire that had erupted and then looked at the broken countertop that was now an unusable stove.

"Sorry, Ai-kun," he coughed loudly. He noticed the concern in her gaze as she handed him a towel to wipe the ash from his face.

"What were you trying to accomplish?" she nagged later on. Ai-kun had forced him into the sofa and inspected the minor burns that had littered his face and arms. Hiroshi chuckled nervously, looking at the device meant to be his latest invention. The device was an invention that would tell the temperature of cooking water as eggs boiled. It was designed to produce funny noises and would certainly delight the children. Hiroshi had been looking forward to it—but now it lay in shambles, and he could kiss his money goodbye.

"I guess we need a new stove," he sighed.

"Maybe something that doesn't use gas," the girl chided.

"Well, there goes the propane," he joked, and she gave him a withering glance. He winced as she slapped a bandage over the slight burn on his cheeks.

"Do*ki's," Ai-kun asked, and he nodded. They were the cheapest appliance store, and maybe he could get a better-looking stove since the old one was burnt. Suddenly, the realization hit him.

"What about dinner!" Hiroshi exclaimed, watching an evil smirk befall the shrunken scientist's lips.

"Time for a diet, I guess, Ha-ka-se," she intoned, and he whined.

Agase Hiroshi had always been alone. Growing up wasn't easy, and he was often mocked for his size and the shape of his head. An egg head, they called him—and the teases continued, improving only when he got older. His inventions, first mocked by the scientific community, eventually grew in popularity, and his reputation around town flourished.

Children and adults alike were fascinated by his childlike inventions, and he was interviewed by a local magazine years ago. Back then, business was booming, and with the money, he was able to purchase a large house in a good neighborhood and, along with it—his beloved beetle.

The good times, however, did not last, and the money, though sufficient, quickly dwindled. An enormous mansion with many rooms and mundane jobs made for a dull existence. And as time passed, he found himself yearning for something he'd seen his neighbors have—a family. With that notion in mind, he embarked on countless dates. Even so, he never found the experience appealing, instead choosing to work on his inventions. Thus, at the ripe old age of fifty-four, Hiroshi Agase was still single and without a wife.

Despite its simplicity, it offered no comfort, and life became a repetitive routine.

It is difficult to be alone, and although Agase Hiroshi was more adept at it than others, he was still human. When people are lonely, they do strange things. Often tinkering with his inventions, he became known as the cuckoo of the block. The constant explosions from his backyard had prompted his neighbors to avoid him. As a result, he was isolated further. Desperate, he invented a robot that would speak to him. The invention was, as usual, not a success, and after a series of mishaps, led to a friendship with a seven-year-old who lived next door.

A peculiar kid. It was apparent that Kudou Shinichi was a genius. Too bright for his peers, the boy was often left out.

And when the boy found himself unequipped to navigate the complicated nature of human relationships, he sought refuge with his eccentric neighbor—Hiroshi Agase.

Through these multiple correspondences, a bond was forged between the two, and they became close over time.

Their relationship was an odd one. Hiroshi Agase was kept quite entertained by the boy's intellect and by the people he brought along. And as the years progressed, Hiroshi watched the boy develop from a somewhat mischievous child to a broody teen and finally to a confident adult. Time was ticking away, and Hiroshi Agase once again felt like he was being left behind. The young man grew, his affections now pinned on his childhood friend, Ran Mouri.

Hiroshi believed their lives would proceed as such, but on that day, their fate took a turn. Arriving like the storm, she appeared unexpectedly, changing their lives in ways they could never anticipate.

"Here with your father, little girl," the salesperson chimed. It was the all-too-happy faces and fake smiles that made Hiroshi slightly uneasy. He was terrible with people who forced and the girl even worse. As the pesky sales keeper followed them throughout the store, she scowled. The store was crowded and noisy enough as it was. There were various electrical appliances beeping and advertisements flying on the screen. It was loud and made more annoying by the man trying to sell them his venture. Hiroshi had to restrain the girl. Sometimes, her tongue is sharp enough to disarm an elephant.

"If you're looking for an electric stove, I recommend the Hitoshi 1000. It has enough power to light up New York City," the salesperson said. His gelled-back hair, fake white teeth, and unwavering enthusiasm were enough. Hiroshi watched as Ai-kun folded her arms, glaring at the man with the same bored look she reserved for people who spouted nonsense. He had been on the receiving end numerous times and could only pity the salesperson.

"Does it truly possess the power to light up New York City?" she asked the salesperson, who gave her a nervous look. "Tell me, Mr…" she glanced at his name tag, and his hands reached for it, covering his name. "Tanaka."

The salesperson did a double-take. "How much power do you think it would take to light up New York City?"

"Umm..." he muttered, and she smiled. Hiroshi sighed.

"About 11,000 billion watts," Ai-kun answered for him, "now how much money would I need to fund something like that?"

The salesperson stopped speaking, the fake smile disappeared from his face, and Ai-kun answered for him again.

"About 777 billion US dollars annually."

Frowning, the man folded his arms, and Hiroshi was forced to push her away.

"Ai-kun," he scolded softly.

"What?"

"He's just doing his job," Hiroshi defended the poor sod, and Ai-kun raised her eyebrows in rebuff.

"Ara, hakase, if you have 2.13 billion dollars to spare, then go ahead, buy that appliance."

"How did you get 2,13 billion," Hiroshi silently pulled out his phone and typed in the numbers. He was again amazed at the girl's ability to generate calculations out of thin air. With half her ability, he would be a millionaire.

"But you could be nicer," he pushed her along and smiled nervously at the other salespeople who were now backing away from them. Having just witnessed the humiliation she had inflicted on their colleague, they would not want to be subjected to the same treatment.

"I would rather browse the appliance by myself, thank you very much," Ai-kun said, "Hakase, you hated it too. Sometimes you got to stand up for yourself."

In times like this, the girl felt more like a mother than a child, and Hiroshi could only sigh as they walked further into the appliance store.

He spotted her lying on the wet ground. The rain was relentless, pounding heavily on hard concrete sidewalks. The girl with strawberry blonde hair was wearing a lab coat too large for her. As the white coat coiled around her like snakes, Hiroshi Agase became concerned. Was she the neighbor's child? He had never seen her before, and it looked like she had walked quite a distance.

Her feet were covered in bruises, and blisters were forming on her ankles. He picked her up gently, grimacing when she cried out. The girl was in a bad shape. He could sense the heat of a fever through her wet clothes. Carrying her, he brought her inside.

What was she doing outside Shinichi's house?

Flipping the switch, he winced at the bright lights that blinded him. His house was empty as usual, and the storm raging outside added to the gloomy nature of the place. A flash of lightning was followed by three claps of thunder, and the circuit breaker tripped, causing the lights to go dark. The shadows stretched, and Hiroshi could only groan. It would have to be fixed later, but for now, he turned his attention to the girl cradled in his arms.

He needed to get her dry.

Hiroshi first took off her lab coat and retrieved some of Shinichi's old clothes from the cupboards. He draped a blanket over her, covering her body and rubbing a dry towel over her hair. Trying to keep her modesty, he closed his eyes and changed her. The clothes he had draped over her were a mess. Well, she could fix them later. Hiroshi applied a fever patch to her forehead as she whimpered. Tears were running down her cheeks, forming in her closed eyes. Hiroshi felt a sharp pang in his chest. It stung, uncomfortable, like a steel nut that had been screwed too tight. Running a finger down her cheeks, he rubbed her tears as they fell.

He decided to wake her in the morning. For now—he would let her rest.

"Ai-kun, look at this!" Hiroshi exclaimed excitedly, the girl looking at the stove he was inspecting.

"It's just like the one we had," she told him, and he laughed. "Yeah, it was a good stove."

"It's hard to clean, clunky, and has a strange smell when you don't maintain it, hakase," the girl raised her hands in defeat when Hiroshi called a salesperson over to purchase the appliance.

"At least it's red now," he said a while later as they strolled along the grocery department. Ai-kun grabbed eggs to use in the oyako-don they will be having tomorrow night.

"Hakase, if you wanted the same stove, we could have ordered it online."

"And what have I told you about online purchasing," he scowled.

"Just because you have no control over your expenditures doesn't mean online shopping is evil."

"The last time I did online shopping, I ended up with ten bags of rice. It's evil, I tell you, evil!"

"You could eat ten bags of rice, Hakase," Ai-kun mocked, and he frowned.

"Ai-kun, you will never let me eat ten bags of rice."

"Of course, you'll balloon, but then again."

She eyed him, poking his tummy, which jiggled. "I can never tell the difference."

"Ok, ok," Hiroshi relented, and she shoved a bunch of leafy green vegetables in his face.

"I really hate these," Hiroshi glanced disdainfully at the greens.

"It's either this or leek, hakase."

Hiroshi grumbled, placing the vegetables in the basket. They continued strolling through the grocery aisles, chatting about the mundane.

She was relaxed in her manner, and her expression was serene, free from the sorrows that burdened her. As she asked him what he would like for breakfast, he smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Bacon and eggs," he said, and she turned to the butcher.

"Some honey-baked ham," she informed the man, who laughed as Hiroshi frowned.

"Didn't I say bacon?"

"You're severely overweight," she retorted.

"I'm a growing old man."

"Heading straight to the hospital."

The butcher chuckled as he handed the items to her.

'You've got a good daughter,' he told Hiroshi. Seeing the strange look on the girl's face, he gave a nervous laugh. "You take care of your old man, ok," the butcher beams.

Hiroshi was about to pull her away before she could say anything rude.

Even though she looked like a kid, the girl hated being treated like one.

He was surprised, though, when she did the opposite.

"I will."

Warmth filled Hiroshi's chest, and he glanced fondly at the girl who had made it a point not to look at him.

"Shall we head for dinner now, hakase?" Ai-kun asked sharply.

When he spots the redness in her ears, Hiroshi couldn't help but smile.

"Ok, Ai-kun."

A pair of green eyes greeted him. The girl was seated on the purple sofa opposite his. The hot chocolate left untouched on the coffee table before them. The news was playing, though muted- served as background noise and a source of light. It was still raining heavily, and Hiroshi could not fix the breaker.

The hard pounding of droplets hitting his windows echoed. The tension grew into an uncomfortable silence. She was mostly expressionless. It was like he was looking at a porcelain doll. Having woken 30 minutes ago, the girl sat unresponsive, studying him with intense scrutiny.

"Where are you from?" he started. She made no response, green eyes eventually gazing at the ground. "What happened to you?" he prods her again. "Depending on your response, I might need to call the police."

For a moment, she looked like she would speak but instead looks at the news report shown on the television. A fire had broken out in a nearby laboratory. Some people had lost their lives. Her lips twisted into a smirk. Lightning flashed, and for just a second, Hiroshi noticed the deep pain wavering in green eyes. She leaned back into the sofa, and the shadows deepened, her expression regaining its stoic features—giving nothing away.

"What about your family?"

"They're dead," she replied methodically. He gasped sharply, gulping at the change in her demur. Her eyes held no innocence. She wasn't a child, he thought. She was like—Shinichi.

Hiroshi winced as she faced him.

"I created the drug that shrunk him," the girl continued, "Kudou Shinichi."

"What!" he exclaimed. "Then you are—"

"Yeah, I was a member of what you call the black organization," She shrugged.

The girl was almost nonchalant about it, but Hiroshi stood up, heart racing from her revelation. His first thought was to inform Shinichi. However, something made him stop. A mask. He thought. He recalled the tears she had shed earlier. The underlying sadness and anguish despite her reticence.

She had been calling out to her sister.

She could not conceal it. Not while she slept.

Swallowing his fear, he sat back down.

"Won't you report me?"

"No," Hiroshi answered. "No, I will not. Tell me, what are you doing here?"

She hesitated for a long time. And then, she started. The girl had betrayed the organization—had escaped their clutches, and they were frantically looking for her now. She spoke in cryptic phrases, and Hiroshi had a feeling she was not revealing everything. Her eyes softened when she mentioned her family but hardened again when he asked where they were. The girl told him about the dangers. About death. About murderers and killers, and he could only fall back in shock at the scale of the organization she was a part of. When she was finished, she glanced at him.

"This was a mistake," she whispered. A bright light flashed through, lightning etched into shadows, and she smirked. "I shouldn't be here."

He recognized that look. The girl was about to leave when he makes his decision—grabbing her hand before she could stand.

She reacted violently, pushing him off, body stiffening from his touch. Hiroshi flinched. Long auburn bangs obscured her expression as she turned away from him.

"You can stay here," he offered.

"We need to tell Shinichi about this, of course, but for now, why don't you stay over?" he continued.

"Why?"

"It's not safe out there for a little girl," and he gave her a gentle smile.

She snorted, folding her arms—before slumping back to the sofa as he proposed a course of action.

He suggested that she attend Edogawa Conan's school, and she relents, telling him that she would tell Shinichi about her origins herself. They then got to work on a name.

"How about Haibara?" Hiroshi asked. "From Cordelia Gray?"

"Anything is fine," she answered, exhausted, devoid of any emotion. He frowned. "Ok, Haibara, and then…"

His eyes wandered to the books on his makeshift shelves. A detective novel Shinichi brought over to read caught his eye. "Ai. From Warshawski. The famous Russian detective. Haibara Ai," he declared proudly.

Taking a piece of paper and a pen, he began to write the kanji for it.

"Ai is a cute name, don't you think?" Hiroshi exclaimed as he wrote the kanji for love on it, and she stopped him.

'"No." In disgust, she took his pen and wrote the kanji for sorrow. "This one is better."

"But—"

"Haibara Ai," the girl whispered, "That's nice."

The subject was changed immediately. Hiroshi gave her some medicine for her fever and watched as she fell into deep sleep again. He followed after.

She had seemed cold. There was no sign of the smiles he was so used to seeing on little girls, or Ran, for that matter.

Hiroshi had thus expected a darker personality. What he did not expect was to wake up to the scent of fresh coffee and fried eggs.

The aroma of breakfast wafted through the dimness of his little house. There was still a light drizzle outside. Gray clouds still covered the sky. Although it was gloomy, the plate of warm food placed in front of him made the atmosphere more bearable. When he glanced at her, she pushed the plate closer to him.

Taking a bite, he was greeted by the nuttiness of runny yolk. A sense of nostalgia swept over him. Memories of his parents emerged, and he remembered a house once filled with laughter and warmth. They were long gone from this world, and their absence was sometimes too much for him to bear. Though he had sought solace in his inventions, in his little friends—he could no longer deny it. Hiroshi had missed this.

Unwittingly, he reached out to pat her head gently. Almost immediately, the girl shrank back. Eyes widened, body rigid. Hiroshi was reminded of the injured cat he had nursed back to health when he was a kid.

He spots fear—so intense he did not know how to react.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked hesitantly.

The girl shook her head.

"It's the least I can do," she said, "I'll try not to be a burden."

She left before he could respond.

The warmth of the morning dissipated, and he turned back to breakfast. She was, at best, a stranger. Somebody who Hiroshi thought would stay for just a little while, but, as time passed—

The girl—became an enigma that would change his life.

"Hakase, I know what you're up to," Ai-kun looks disdainfully at the food he'd ordered.

"... I don't get to eat out very often, so pardon me."

"Your blood sugar ain't coming down," she warned him. Hiroshi grumbled, calling the waitress again and changing his order.

"Are you happy now?" he flung his arms out to pout. The waitress laughed as he posed, and the girl smiled sweetly. "Good. You finally learned self-control."

"Ai-kun…"

"You get to choose dessert."

"Really!"

"In your dreams."

"Come on!"

Hiroshi sighed as she chuckled slightly. A year ago, Ai-kun could hardly smile. Yet here she was, relaxed in his presence, with a childlike expression on her face. Propping his chin on open palms, he leaned against the table as they talked. It was a situation he would never have anticipated.

Haibara Ai had become someone irreplaceable in his life. Ai-kun would never have admitted to it. The girl— too shy, too awkward with her emotions, and unable to speak the truth.

The start had been rough, and he could only grimace at the memory of her first meeting with Shinichi. The girl, all thorns, and the boy, all blame. It had been a difficult couple of weeks. The teenagers are constantly at each other's throats. Shinichi calls her a murderer, and Ai-kun labels him a naive fool.

But then—

"Why didn't you save my sister," she cried. It was the first time Ai-kun had expressed genuine emotion. Her facade was wiped clean, and Hiroshi caught a glimpse of the sorrow he knew was buried within the girl's heart.

She had improved over the months. Her sardonic gaze and stoic, cold nature mellowed out into gentle laughter and smiles. Ai-kun, Hiroshi realized—had never had the opportunity to grow. Though, Hiroshi has seen her nightmares and learned of the terrors that keep her awake at night. He barely knows her past, and she never asks for assistance.

"Hakase," she interrupted his thoughts, frowning as he glanced at her, "Your food is going to get cold."

And Hiroshi reached out, placing a hand over her shoulder.

"Are you alright, Ai-kun?' he asked. The girl had been secluding herself for the past few weeks, her smiles coming less often, only appearing when the children and Shinichi managed to get her out of the basement on New Year's Eve. And he had grown increasingly worried for her well-being.

"I'm fine, hakase," giving a crooked smile.

Her answer was always the same.

"Eat before it gets cold."

He sighed, turning back to his food.

It would take some more time for old wounds to heal, but for now, all Hiroshi could do was look out for her in his own way.

When did the house get smaller? It had been a few months since she moved in. Shinichi's relationship with the girl was improving. The boy, Hiroshi, realized with slight disdain was getting too close. But when she responded, he held back. Her feelings showed ever so slightly, and Hiroshi understood the tentative relationship taking place between the teenagers. A dance they played that made Hiroshi both happy and yet very anxious.

The detective boys came after that, and his once-empty house became too lively. There was laughter, camping trips, excursions, the occasional, well, frequent cases, and—most importantly, the companionship of a shrunken scientist. With help, the stoic girl slowly breaks out of her shell. They ate together at the kitchen counter often, and the time spent there was something Hiroshi deeply cherished. It had been a sunny day when she expressed her first genuine smile. The gift he had given her—a green mug—nestled in her hands.

Even though it was small, Hiroshi was glad that it was at least—progress.

The days continued, and he was working late hours on the inventions she thought were stupid but still supported.

"Hakase," she prodded him as he stirred. Her hands were on her waist, and she was glaring at him sternly.

"Ai-kun?"

"Why are you sleeping here," she insisted, "You're going to catch a cold."

He was about to respond when a blanket was draped over his body. "At least take care of yourself."

Gently, he patted her. And for the first time, she did not pull away. It had surprised him, and the goofy smile breaks across his lips.

"Thank you, Ai-kun."

"Well, that was a good dinner," Hiroshi burps. The girl glowered at him.

"You'll not be having breakfast tomorrow Hakase."

"Look, it was just-"

"Three bowls of ice cream, Hakase, while I was in the washroom."

"How did you know!" he exclaimed, and she pointed at the waitress, waving goodbye to them. He cursed and turned to her, putting his hands together to beg her.

"Please, anything but breakfast," he begged, and she glared at him. For a moment, he fell back, afraid of the repercussions.

"Hakase, if you keep this up, you're gonna die young. And I'll be—" she stopped when a wide grin appeared on his face. Grabbing her shoulder, he pulled her close.

"What were you about to say, Ai-kun~," he said as she tried to push him off.

"Get off me, you old man!" she snapped as Hiroshi laughed. Warmth blossomed in his chest, so comfortable that it overwhelmed him completely. Looking to the night skies above him, he grinned in satisfaction. As he conversed with the shrunken scientist, Hiroshi finally realized—

He was not alone.

Not anymore.