Chapter 9: The familiar unconscious girl on my front gate
Summary of the previous chapter if you skipped it:
Once Shiho learns about her sister's death, she stops working on her research and is locked up by Gin. Soon, the decision is made by the organization boss to destroy the lab along with her inside. She takes the poison instead, survives, and runs for Kudo Shinichi's home. She loses consciousness right at his front gate.
Shiho woke up to the comforting smell of congee. Glancing around, she realized she was inside a familiar house. The person who carried her in must have been that shrunken detective, she surmised.
She noticed that she was wrapped in a blanket, most likely to prevent a fever and keep her warm.
"So, how have you been, Miho-neesan?" She heard his voice coming from the kitchen. The sound of her shuffling around must have caught his attention.
Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of her fake name. Conan's tone, though laced with sarcasm, held a hint of familiarity. Memories of their past interactions flooded her mind, adding to the turmoil of emotions she was already experiencing. Unable to resist her sharp tone, she taunted him.
"Oh, how did you figure it out, Mr. Detective? Was it the hair? Or maybe the face?"
She knew she shouldn't behave this crudely to the person she had admired for so long. Not to mention, the guy who had just saved her life. She was certainly being ungrateful. But she didn't really know how to be nice to strangers. Niceness wasn't exactly a common trait for those in the organization. So she could only speak with a certain sharpness in her tone.
Conan furrowed his brows, trying to maintain a stern exterior despite his underlying curiosity. Her playful response only fueled his determination to unravel the truth behind her sudden appearance. He knew he couldn't let his guard down, so he decided to approach her carefully.
He cautiously moved back to the living room, where he had dropped her, wanting to make sure she wasn't up to anything. She just greeted him with a sly smirk, her lips curving mischievously, as she saw him enter. She had simply stayed put in the comfort of the blanket, seemingly relaxed and harmless.
Conan's eyes narrowed as he observed her, his detective instincts urging him to analyze her every move. He glanced at her from across the room, studying her closely. The tension in the air was palpable, as if they were both walking on a tightrope, unsure of what lay ahead.
Raising his voice, he yelled at her, "Cut the crap, what are you doing here?"
"And in that form, no less!" He was angry. She couldn't exactly blame him for that.
Shiho bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. She had known her sudden arrival would be met with hostility, especially considering her history with them. Even though he was luckily still alive, she had ruined his life. He probably hated her.
"I ran away from them." Shiho stated. She felt like she saw his eyes widen for a second after her confession, but assumed that it was just her mind playing tricks on her.
"Don't worry, they haven't seen me turn into a child, so you're safe…for now. Besides, your name was changed from missing to dead in the organization's database thanks to me." She continued, trying to gauge his reactions. He hadn't stopped glaring at her.
"As for what I'm doing here, well I knew you were the only other person who had been in a similar situation having consumed my poison, so I thought you might empathize." she finished looking expectantly into his eyes as she awaited his reply.
Her words hung in the air. She wanted him to understand, to see beyond the surface of her involvement with them. Shiho's heart raced, torn between her desire to be understood and the fear of being rejected by the one person she couldn't bear to lose now. Her fingers nervously played with the edge of the blanket, betraying the conflict within her.
...
"Are you kidding me?!"
Alas. Life was never that easy. She certainly had enough experience with that herself.
"There's no way I'd understand a murderer who makes poisons to kill people!" he shouted at her, her nonchalant responses not winning her any favors with him.
He had little doubt that she was Sherry before. But her answer made it 100% certain that she was the creator of the poison.
"Oh? Then why bring me inside your house and take care of me? You could have just left me out there. I'm pretty sure I would have died from pneumonia, if not from dehydration by morning. Is it because you would be suspected for my death? I'm pretty sure they would find you not guilty, " she argued back. She didn't really have an argument but she also didn't feel comfortable being lectured by him either.
"And it's not like I wanted to create something that would kill in the first place." She whispered, assuming he wouldn't hear her.
Of course, in order to be a great detective, he had honed all 5 of his senses. Her quiet tone certainly hadn't escaped his notice.
Easing up a little, he answered, "What do you take me for? I wouldn't let someone die on my watch. No matter what you may have done, nobody deserves to die."
Ah, yes. She was well aware of his sense of justice and his commitment to preserving lives. Though she hadn't expected that same principle to extend to a criminal like her as well.
Instead of her words, this time her stomach betrayed her with audible growls, somehow aware that the food was ready.
She had a small blush on her face, probably from the embarrassment of the situation.
He sighed as he grabbed a bowl and a spoon for her from the kitchen, filling it with the congee. He had prepared the dish for her, after all.
Placing the bowl on the table in front of her, he simply instructed, "Eat first, then take a bath."
"So, is your little interrogation over?" She inquired, wincing slightly from the pain of holding the spoon.
"Just postponed, for now."
He let her eat in silence, but kept a close watch on her. Just because she had confessed that she left the organization, didn't mean she couldn't be lying. Though, he felt more inclined to believe her. After all, why would she appear in that state in front of his house?
Despite not wanting to appear greedy, she found herself devouring the meal with surprising speed. The simple act of nourishment imbued her with a feeling of relief, something she had almost lost touch with.
The possibility that they might have starved her crossed his mind, offering an explanation for her ravenous appetite. After all, the meager, unappetizing food laid before her could hardly be considered a culinary masterpiece; he knew cooking wasn't his forte. But she was still eating it without any complaints.
He reflected on the chain of events that had led them to this scenario.
One of the 3 people he had been pursuing for a long time had arrived at his doorstep—utterly broken and in desperate need of help. He had to carry her in, and while he was in the midst of preparing some food, she regained consciousness. Her responses to his questions were quick, but reasonable enough. Nor did she seem like she was spying on him.
He wondered about her reason for running away. Maybe she heard the news about her sister's death and decided to rebel against them? Perhaps that's why they gave her the same poison? What a cruel twist of fate, being forced to die from your own creation.
He examined her more closely. To check if she had any major injuries that might require proper medical intervention. His eyes scanned her form, looking for any telltale signs of harm, as he tried to ascertain the extent of her physical condition.
Her face didn't seem to have too many bruises. It had been smeared with dirt, indicating she had probably fallen more than once getting here. Not to mention, she was lying–face down–on the ground when he had found her.
She did appear malnourished, a deduction he had made when he brought her indoors. Carrying her had been quite effortless. By his estimate, her weight was more than three standard deviations below that of an average girl her age. He considered asking her for her actual age, weight, and height to confirm his assessment, but he sensed his question might not be well-received.
Her hands were scraped and swollen, suggesting she might have used them to shield herself from falling. He would have fed her if she had so requested, but he doubted she ever would. He just watched her struggle to eat like that, feeling unsure whether to put forward the question himself.
Her feet had multiple cuts and tear wounds. He needed to bandage them up. He could roughly estimate the distance she must have covered and the type of terrains she encountered from the lingering dirt on her feet. However, he couldn't begin to fathom the pain and anguish she would've endured, running barefoot like that.
Her legs had some scratches as well, and so did her arms. They were also swollen and red. He needed to apply medicine on those as well. Perhaps she was shackled? The pattern on her limbs did indicate forms of restraints, so maybe she was held captive? A part of him shuddered at the thought. Did they beat her? Torture her? He did hesitate on asking her to remove her shirt for a complete checkup, but hoped she'd be willing to answer the question perhaps.
She was their ally. At least, she had been before her subsequent escape.
He knew that they were a dangerous group based on his previous few encounters with them, but doing that to one of their own members? He didn't really want to sympathize with her, but how could he not feel sorry for the state she was in. As a detective, he wanted to remain objective, but seeing her in such a vulnerable and worn-out state, a part of him couldn't help but sympathize with the now shrunken woman in front of him.
He knew her escape placed him in a precarious position as well, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon her to an uncertain fate either. And what of her other family? She had mentioned her parents were divorced, but that was most likely a lie. Were they dead as well? Should he even ask right now?
Not good. He had far too many questions...
"Staring at me won't get you any answers." Shiho hissed, setting her spoon aside, her eyes shooting daggers at him. His focus interrupting as he heard her voice.
Despite her sharp remark, he noticed the torment behind her gaze. His face softened up a bit as he locked eyes with her. It was as if she were an abandoned, wounded pet he had picked up off the street. Cautious and ready to snap if it felt threatened.
"On the contrary, you can learn a lot about a person by observing them." he said triumphantly, boasting about his deduction skills.
Seeing that she wasn't relenting, he sighed again. Deciding to give her some privacy, he picked up a book to read instead. He supposed he had been scrutinizing her every move since she woke up, which could make anyone feel uncomfortable.
Though he couldn't help but occasionally glance over to check on her.
The room fell quiet once more, with only the sound of the fading rainfall in the background and the occasional noise of a spoon tapping the bowl interrupting the peace.
Once she was done eating, she handed him the empty bowl. He placed it in the kitchen sink and brought some clothes for her from his room.
He handed them over, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'm afraid I don't have any girl clothes, so you'll have to do with mine," he explained.
"I'd be more worried if you did have some, you pervert. You may have a child's body but your mind is that of any other teenager." she retorted.
"Pe-pervert?!" Conan stammered, feeling flustered by the accusation. Well, yes, he had carried her frail body in. And since she was only wearing an oversized shirt and nothing else below or underneath, he had seen more than he should have. But he had covered her with a blanket! It was the gentlemanly thing to do! Or was she pissed at him because of her previous encounters with him?
She hesitated for a moment, but she could've really used a bath after such a long time. Plus, the risk of infection could cause more trouble if she didn't clean herself.
"Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?" He posed his question gently, but it was met with irritation.
"Can you not treat me like a child?" The last thing she wanted was to be coddled, even in her weakened state.
"I'm not," Conan said. "I'm treating you like a patient. There's a difference."
She ignored his outstretched hand, feeling confident that she could manage the short trek to the bathroom on her own. But the instant she stood up, she stumbled.
The fear of being caught, and the rush of adrenaline had carried her to safety, but now that the immediate danger had passed, her body protested. The ache in her feet was more pronounced, and she struggled to walk.
Begrudgingly, she accepted his support, leaning on his shoulder as he guided her towards the washroom. Once inside, she gently closed the door behind her, ensuring her privacy, signaling that she didn't want him to follow.
"Take your time!" he yelled from the other side of the door while muttering, "She's really not cute," to no one in particular.
Once he heard the sound of the water running, he prepared his next move. Using his time wisely, he contacted Prof. Agasa and his mother, letting them know about the situation he was currently in. Feeling that it would take a while for her to finish, he returned to his book, trying to focus on the words but still keeping an ear out for any sounds of distress from the bathroom.
He also tried to figure out any holes in her previous responses, identifying the gaps in her story while going over the words in his book.
When she emerged from the bath, he brought some bandages and medicine for her injuries. But she refused to let him apply them, opting to do it herself despite her trembling hands.
"So, you said Gin and the others don't know you've shrunk," he resumed his interrogation while she was in the middle of patching herself up. "Why would they poison you and leave without actually checking to make sure you were dead?" It did feel weird to ask her that, but he needed to make sure her answers didn't have any inconsistencies.
"In my case, it was because there were cops all around the place and they needed to leave quickly. But in your case, if they forced you to swallow the pill, how are you sure they didn't observe until the end?" He quickly explained his own circumstances, to see how she would respond.
"You're making an assumption that they were the ones who gave it to me. I took the pill voluntarily," she answered, wincing with discomfort at the stinging sensation from the medicinal spray.
"Huh? but if you didn't know I was Kudo Shinichi back then, why would you…" he paused, his eyes widening as he realized her implication.
He wasn't sure how to proceed further. He certainly had more questions, but this response was quite unexpected.
She broke the silence instead, having finished bandaging herself.
"And…what are you going to do now? Will you hand me over to the police? Maybe they wouldn't believe that I'm a criminal turned into a child by the effects of a poison, but perhaps your father could convince them otherwise. Though it's not like I know much about the organization's goals or their real identities. So you won't find anything even from torturing me." Shiho glanced away, bracing for his reply.
He took his time to come up with a reply. In her mind, it was almost as if he was enjoying observing her reactions.
"Idiot...If I turn you in in your shrunken form, Gin and the others will realize what happened to me as well. And even if I don't, once they realize you've escaped, they will be coming for you. That would lead to the same outcome. I'm going to have you stay right here for now, whether you like it or not."
"My, how kind of you."
"Though the professor is out at a convention tonight. But once he's back, we'll move you into his house," he added.
"So that's where you had been staying. At your neighbor's place." She remarked with a wry smile as she recalled her first visit to his place. "I thought this house was dirty because you just suck at cleaning."
"Well, sorry about that!" he said, as if it was somehow his fault.
Her lips curled into a small smile at their exchange.
She wasn't sure if he had accepted her yet. She wasn't sure if he trusted her. Honestly, she had fully expected him not to. But at least he hadn't kicked her out. He had given her a place to stay…if only to keep a watch on her. It was a start.
She let out a yawn, her fatigue catching up with her. It was almost midnight. She rubbed her eyes to get rid of her weariness, but he decided to end his interrogation there. It's not like he couldn't resume it the next morning.
He pointed her to a spare room she could use for now. She declined the offer, choosing to stay on the same sofa in the living room. She didn't want to take advantage of his kindness, even though she could use some rest. He sighed for what seemed like the third time that day.
"You really aren't cute," he said half-teasingly—this time to her face—as he watched her settle down.
"Oh? If you were looking for a cute pet, you should've picked up a tiny dog instead," she retorted with a playful smirk, wrapping herself inside the same blanket she had been in before. It had gotten dirty from eariler, but she didn't mind it much.
"I prefer cats, thank you very much." He shot back.
The tension in the room had eased up a ton, it was a small step, but for her, it meant the world. Despite their pasts and the challenges ahead, she had found a moment of respite with him.
He soon heard gentle breaths coming from her direction, indicating that she had fallen asleep.
He tiptoed to his bedroom, retrieving his pillow and blanket before gently placing them on the sofa next to hers making sure not to wake her up in the process. After all, she may need assistance overnight.
Dimming the lights, he moved to the adjacent sofa, feeling the fatigue of the day wash over him. The gentle, now peaceful pitter-patter of the rain acted as a soothing and calming melody, lulling him into a peaceful slumber as well.
A/N:
Hope I made their exchange as good as the original one's. When I first watched it, I kinda understood both of their pov's. But since the professor wasn't here to stop Conan from getting too agitated, it enabled them both to speak their minds freely. Sorta like getting it out of their systems, I guess. Though I do think she will need lots of actual therapy. In both: the original, as well as my version. Not that she is getting it, sadly.
