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Relative Truth
by Becky Tailweaver
File 16: House of Cards
Kaito Kuroba made it home in good time, kicking off his shoes and bounding into the house, loudly announcing his arrival. "Yo Mom, I'm home! What's cooking?"
"Hello, Kaito!" Fumiyo called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, and--"
"Kaitoooo!"
"--Aoko-chan's here!"
Kaito had already pulled up short at the dining room door, frozen like a deer in the headlights as Aoko Nakamori confronted him with a scowling face. "A-A-Aoko!" he croaked, not expecting to see her at this hour, in his house, on a weekend. "Uh, fancy meeting you here..."
"Yeah," the girl retorted, obviously in a fine mood. "You've been so scarce I never thought I'd run into you in your own house."
"In my house--?"
"Yeah, you know, the place you live?" the girl continued sarcastically. "The place I've been calling all day trying to talk to you?"
Kaito blinked, steadily regaining his composure; Aoko Nakamori just happened to be one of the very few people in the world able to make him loose his cool--his uncle being an unhappy new addition to those ranks--but no matter the situation he always got back on his feet in a hurry. "Oh...I was just out and about. It's a real nice day, you know--"
"Yes, I know," she shot back, "and when I can't find you on such a nice day I start to wonder if something happened to you! I've been waiting for you all day! Where have you been?"
"Why, Aoko..." he said smoothly, quickly thinking up something to distract her from pointed questions. "I didn't think you'd pine for me so terribly after a single date--"
"A single date?" Aoko exploded. "You egotistical baka! Whoever said I went on a date with you? I don't know why I bother to worry--!"
Bingo, he thought with a grin. Now I don't have to explain where I was--no need for her to know! He ducked as the fiery girl reached out and brought the nearest swingable object into her tirade--unfortunately for her, Fumiyo didn't keep mops in the hallway, so the best she got was a feather duster. But when wielded by Aoko Nakamori, even feather dusters were lethal.
He jumped over her second swing--the duster was shorter but lighter and faster--and vaulted into the dining room, tossing a smart remark over his shoulder as she came after him, face alight with indignation. That was part of the reason she actually managed to nail him on occasion--it wasn't that he was letting her hit him, but she was unexpectedly dazzling when she was all lit-up and angry, and he couldn't look where he was going when his eyes got stuck on her.
She sure was an unpredictable girl, as spontaneous as he was. Such fire and strength--and she was only trying to vent her frustrations on him! He truly pitied anyone whom she really wanted to kill.
He'd only start worrying about himself if she ever got any formal training.
"Aoko-chan, do mind the lamps and my flower vase, please!" Fumiyo called from the other room. "And Kaito, stay out of the kitchen for now!"
"Yes, ma'am!" both replied, neither breaking the rhythm of swoosh-leap-swat-jump-swing-duck. And somehow, none of Kaito's acrobatics brought him within range of the aforementioned fragiles.
Fumiyo's arrival with dinner trays in hand signaled that it was time for a cease-fire; eyes alight with enjoyment, Kaito ducked over to help his mother with her burdens, forcing Aoko to disarm or risk the older woman's disapproval. Face still flushed from exertion, she set down her feathered weapon and sat politely at her place, her original complaints forgotten. She watched Kaito move smoothly around the table, a faint smile appearing on her face as he juggled the dishes into their proper settings.
Somehow he got everything in the right place, unbroken and unspilled, despite the chaotic-looking display. He grinned at her through the whirl of cups and bowls, something softening in his gaze as he saw her smile. The circular juggle suddenly turned to a double figure eight, and Aoko got the distinct impression that he was showing off just for her...
"Put the rice by the chicken," Fumiyo told her son calmly as she sat down, gently breaking the moment between the two youngsters. "And don't burn yourself on the teapot."
"Yes, Mom..." The young magician winked at Aoko, grinning again; the rice decelerated and scooted into place with hardly a jostle, and the teapot was caught neatly by the handle as his left hand kept the three teacups and two rice bowls lofting in the air. "Didn't spill a drop," he announced, reaching to set the pot down.
But as his attention slid from the flying china to the teapot, one of the delicate, pretty teacups--hand-painted with cherry blossoms and soft spring leaves--faltered in its graceful arc, missing his hand and shattering on the floor.
"Dammit!"
Aoko gasped at his outburst; suddenly, his carefree face was all sharp with consternation and dismay. The teapot clattered to the tabletop when he released it, luckily landing without harm--both hands went to the still-flying objects, realigning the whirl from figure-eights to single circle and snatching piece after piece out of the air to set them carefully on the table.
When everything was down, there was silence. Aoko's hands were over her mouth and she was wide-eyed and staring--mostly because she'd never seen Kaito get upset at such an accident before. He was the consummate magician--never show the audience that you've made a mistake, never lose your cool, never miss a beat. But now he was kneeling on the floor, frantically collecting the pieces of the teacup he'd dropped.
Fumiyo's face showed nothing but amused, affectionate resignation, despite Kaito's obvious distress. "It's all right, Kaito. Let's eat dinner first, and worry about that later. Aoko-chan's waiting."
"Obasan..." Aoko protested.
Kaito looked up, his hands full of shards and his eyes full of sorrows. "But...Mom...these are the ones Dad got you for your birthday. One for each of us, a set of three..." Which was now a set of two thanks to his showboating.
"Don't look so tragic," Fumiyo responded softly. "It was an accident--and it's not like we need three cups on a regular basis. Throw the pieces in the trash and sit down to eat. Bring another cup with you when you come back."
Flinching, Kaito goggled at her, aghast at the thought of throwing the precious pieces in the garbage can. "But...but...I could glue it...!"
Fumiyo shook her head sadly, still smiling. "Come now, you know that wouldn't do. You can glue it back together but it still won't be usable--the glue won't hold boiling water, or last through heat expansion."
Defeated, Kaito drooped, staring at the shards in his hands. "Oh, yeah..."
"Honestly, it's all right, Kaito," his mother continued. "Go on--go take care of the pieces and bring back a spare cup so we can begin."
"Sure..." He picked the last few pieces off the floor, cradling them carefully as he rose and hurried toward the kitchen. Behind him, Fumiyo distracted Aoko by politely inquiring after her father and his work. Usually an amusing subject for Kaito, at this point all he felt was a sort of sad weariness; after breaking his mother's precious teacup and the row with Ojisan that morning, Aoko's reply about Inspector Nakamori's most recent attempt to snare Kid only reminded him of the terrible secret that stood between himself and his friend.
Sometimes Shinichi's feelings on not telling Ran about Conan became a little more understandable at moments like these--but his own secrecy was just to save his hide, not her life...
At the trash can in the kitchen he paused, just about to drop the pieces. He stared at them for a moment, at the delicate brush strokes and soft colors scored by jagged ceramic edges, jumbled into broken shards of a once-peaceful image. In that instant he whirled away from the garbage, reaching into a drawer for a plastic sandwich bag. Carefully placing the pieces within, he furtively hid them in a high cupboard behind the good china, where his mother was unlikely to look.
"Kaito, we're waiting!" his mother called from the other room, making him jump like a guilty thief--like he never did even when he was guilty of stealing.
"Coming!" Hustling away from the china cupboard, he grabbed a new teacup and headed back out to the dining room. His Poker Face was in place once more; by the time Aoko saw him again he was his usual smiling, goofy, outgoing self, as if nothing had happened.
He joined the meal like that, smiling on the outside, hiding any pain he felt behind the magician's mask his father had taught him. He laughed and joked, teased Aoko about her father's ineffectiveness, apologized when his mother told him to, and acted the part of a perfectly happy Kaito.
Even if he was remorseful about the cup, and felt even worse about the confrontation that morning, no one could ever truly know just how much. Not his mother, who knew more of him than anyone else--and especially not Aoko...though to hide his heart from her behind a masquerade of games had begun to hurt more and more with every passing day.
Conan made sure that Kogoro Mouri was snoring loudly and continuously before he ventured out of bed. As he slipped noislessly out of his little futon, he made a conscious decision to leave his glasses behind. There was no need for them where he was headed, and it wasn't Conan Edogawa who was going to speak to Ran.
Soundless, he padded through the door, careful not to let the latch click loudly. At Ran's room, he knocked softly, entering upon her quiet invitation. He stepped inside, showing equal care with her door. Nervously meeting her eyes, he stood hesitantly there just inside her door as she regarded him from her seat on her bed. It was a strange replay of the night before; their positions were nigh perfectly the same.
Ran turned on her bedside lamp, surprised to see "Conan" without his glasses. It was so rare an occurrance--but less infrequent now that she knew. She also knew that he would never do this for anyone else--never take off his disguise, never remove the only outward symbol of the childish mask he wore. She could see his eyes so clearly without the shifting reflections in the clear glass lenses; his gaze was nervous, uncertain, sincere, unguarded--as if he were saying, "Look, this is me, I'm not hiding from you."
He was Shinichi only for her.
She smiled at him, hoping to relieve his obvious tentativeness. Silent, she gestured for him to come and sit--and just as he had last night, he hesitated before moving to her bedside, dropping off his slippers and hopping up to the edge.
Tense, Shinichi perched himself on the bed a good distance from her, where he could look her in the eye without having to crane his neck back. It also put him well out of arms' reach, but he wasn't even sure himself whether that was for his own protection or to keep her from reaching out to him. He'd found her embrace last night very reassuring, despite their embarrassment, but tonight he somehow felt as if he didn't deserve to be comforted.
There was no need for introductions or explanations; they both knew what he was here for--both knew the silence would be broken next by secrets. He held her gaze for some time before dropping his eyes, his hands clenching uneasily. "I don't really even know where to begin," he confessed softly at last. "So much has happened in the last few days..."
"I won't rush you," Ran replied, sitting back against her pillow and gathering her legs up comfortably. She knew he was being honest--perhaps even painfully so--and she knew that now was not the time for pushing or demands.
His eyes flickered with gratitude. "Okay...well...I guess it all blew up on Wednesday, last week--you remember, the day I didn't go to school?"
Ran nodded. "I remember. That day, you left your books at Professor Agasa's, and you--both of you--asked me if I'd still..." She stopped with a soft gasp, eyes widening.
"Yeah," he responded fatalistically. "I'd just done something really bad...but we'll get to that soon enough." He gathered his own legs up on the bedspread, Indian-style, facing her directly. "I learned the truth that day--or I stumbled on it. Or...I got hit with it..." He trailed off with a faint, rather fatalistic chuckle.
"You'd better hurry up and tell me something," Ran said, half joking, "because I've already imagined enough to give me nightmares for weeks. The truth can't be nearly as bad as what I'm guessing."
He shrugged faintly. "All a matter of opinion, I guess..."
"What is it, then?"
"To start with..." He looked up at her, eyes bright with combined fear and determination. "I'm not Shinichi Kudo."
"What?" That thought almost frightened her--so soon after learning the truth about Conan, the thought of losing her Shinichi...!
He lowered his eyes again. "I didn't even know it, but I've been living under two aliases now, not one. 'Conan Edogawa' was the one I made up for you, because of the Organization and what happened, but 'Shinichi Kudo'..."
She was so pale in the dim lamplight that she almost looked like a ghost. "What are you saying, Shinichi? What do you...?"
He shook his head, anxious and frustrated. "I'm not making any sense, am I? It hardly makes sense to me--I've barely started to put it together in my head...it's hard to just explain it." He took a deep breath, concentrating. "I found a birth certificate in the attic of my house--my birth certificate...with my real name." His voice trembled now, but he pressed on, determined to see it through before he lost all his nerve. "My real name...is Kuroba. Not Kudo. Shinichi Kuroba."
Ran gasped, sitting straight up in disbelief. "No way--Kuroba--like Kaito Kuroba? Is it--were you adopted--and he's really your brother--?"
"No." Shinichi actually let out a snort of laughter, amusedly startled at her first guess. "But I know why you'd think so."
"He looks so much like you..." Ran relaxed a little, heaving a shaky sigh. "For a second, I thought for sure you were twins or something."
"If I was just adopted, I wouldn't be so upset--" Shinichi shook his head, cutting himself off. "Kaito and I really are cousins. Our fathers are brothers."
"I thought Yukiko-obachan and Kuroba-kun's mom were sisters, and that's why your last names are different..." Ran trailed off, blinking in sudden realization. "But they're not really--if your name is Kuroba, then--!"
"--Then so is my father's." Shinichi folded his hands in his lap to keep them from fidgeting; they were already shaking enough. "That's the hidden truth, Ran. He changed his name--our names, Mom and me, too--and forged all our papers. He changed everything, and made Mom promise not to tell. And my whole life, I never knew..."
"I see." Ran kept her voice studiously neutral. As the daughter of a detective, she knew a few things about changing names, forging identities, and even the reasons people did such things. Despite the best of intentions, such falsification of records was illegal unless officially sanctioned, such as in the case of Witness Protection. One had to be pretty ignorant not to know that, detective or otherwise--and she understood instantly why Shinichi was so troubled.
He was hurt to learn he'd been living a lie.
"But...that's only part of it--not even the worst of it," he continued in a low voice. "'Worst'...hell, I can't decide which part is worse..."
"There's more?" she asked, brows raised. With the revelation about his name, all the suppositions in her head had been put away--but now that there was the potential for more surprises, they all came back full force, clamoring at her.
"When I was lying to you--about being Conan...it's bad enough I wasn't the person you thought I was," he murmured sadly, wryly. "But I'm not even the person I thought I was."
"Shinichi..."
He sat up rather suddenly, running fingers through his bangs and taking a deep, long breath that was half tired sigh. For a while he was silent, leaning back to rest his weight on his hands and staring up at her ceiling. His eyes were dark, barely lit by glimmers from the lamp as he gathered his thoughts for what had to come next. Another breath, a little shakier this time, and he began again.
"Ran...what do you know about Kaitou Kid?"
A bit confused by his seemingly off-the-wall query, she sat back against her bed's headboard, thinking. "All I really know is that he's a famous thief who's been at large for twenty years or so," she admitted. "Aoko Nakamori told me her dad has been chasing him ever since he was a rookie cop. He's super-good at fooling the police, making riddles, and stealing anything. I've never even really seen him, except that time on the Queen Elizabeth..."
Shinichi scowled noticeably, sitting up again; Ran's eyes turned inward as she remembered the one and only time she'd encountered the phantom thief. Barely even an encounter--it was so sudden, and quickly over; her memories consisted only of a strange-smelling cloth over her face, a strong arm around her body from behind, and a soft, strangely familiar voice whispering, "Sorry 'bout this, ojousan..." as dizzy darkness claimed her.
Now Ran was the one frowning. "He knocked me out and impersonated me!" she went on indignantly. "He used a handkerchief full of something--if I'd had a chance to use my karate, he would've regretted grabbing me!"
Against his will, Shinichi let out a snort of laughter. He was fairly certain Kid had skirted a horrible death by mere centimeters that night--and that he knew it, too. Though he might not survive his next meeting with Ran, once she knew the truth...
Hell, I might not survive this either...
"You know about as much as anyone else does," Shinichi said quietly. "Though I doubt many people can boast of having a close encounter with him."
"Hmph! If I ever have a 'close encounter' with him again, he's going to get it!"
Yup, he's dead meat, Shinichi thought with a faint grin. And I'll stand back and watch, too--my little revenge for breaking Rule Five like that. "I bet he will," he said, gulping down a nervous chuckle. "Just be sure to leave him alive when you're done--"
He cut off with another gulp and a whispered curse; Ran's head whipped around, her indignation melting into a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. "Shinichi, don't tell me you know--? Wait, you got all upset when I mentioned Kid in the--" Her eyes grew impossibly wider. "No...were you seriously--you said he wasn't--but is he really--?"
"No." The word was hard, quick, bitten out with surprising force. "I told you it's not like you think."
"But...if it's not..." Ran still stared at him, stunned. "You know him, don't you? You know the Kid."
The small body had gone remarkably still, lifeless save for the small half-smile on his face and the painful glimmer in his eyes. "Yeah."
"Who...?"
"Promise you won't have a fit when I tell you." His voice was so fatalistic, so soft, yet filled with surprising intensity.
"Shinichi..."
"You have to promise. You have to listen, then you can react. Promise me."
She gazed at him quizzically for a moment before finally answering, sitting back and forcing herself to relax. "Okay. I promise."
A little of the tension slid out of him; he glanced briefly at her from beneath dark bangs as he took a breath to speak. "My dad's not Kaitou Kid--at least not in the way you're thinking. Just...let me tell you a story, the same story I heard...and then maybe you'll understand..."
It was hard to embark on the tale at first, but to his surprise it was easy to keep going once he started. Haltingly, he began with the account of the two brothers, the young phantom thieves long before the fame of Kid, and how they became a magician and an author; as Ran's eyes grew wide with dawning realization, he continued by telling how the brothers began to oppose a massive criminal organization. He told of their marriages to two strong, special women; the births of their sons and their plans for the future--then the night disaster struck, and the separation that resulted.
He went on, despite her disbelief and pale face, to relate how one brother went into hiding, erasing his previous identity and exchanging it for a new one, never telling his son the bitter truth--and how the other brother swore vengeance on the organization and fought them even harder, becoming legendary as Kid the Phantom Thief...until he was murdered ten years ago when his identity was discovered. His brother helped to cover up the murder, and his son grew up ignorant until he discovered the truth and put on his father's mantle...
And that's when Ran gasped loudly, covering her mouth--much the same way she had when the truth had come out about Conan. Comprehension--and despite all the shocks in his story, the final truth still came as a stunning jolt. His story came to a close with a narrative of his own discoveries--how he'd been led blindly into that test at the mansion, how he'd been shown the truth the very next day. He faltered to a stop as he saw her growing understanding; she knew the whole truth now, every sordid detail--and the astonishment rendered her silent for long, tense moments. She just stared at him for a time, trying to collect her thoughts as all the implications struck home.
"Kuroba-kun..." she whispered, barely audible, dropping her hand to her chest. "Kaito Kuroba is the Kid...?"
Shinichi nodded mutely, watching her eyes, waiting for her response.
"Your father...and his father--the brothers...they were too...before...?"
Another nod; he was still silent.
Ran swallowed hard, dropping her eyes; for a long time they were hidden by her bangs, her face unreadable. He knew she was thinking, that she was turning the whole story over and over in her mind, but the waiting made him more and more nervous. What was she going to say at last...?
After several eternally long minutes, she spoke; when she looked up at him again, she was strangely composed. "I can see why you didn't want to tell me this right out," she said softly. "I understand how you could feel so badly about it. If my father was a thief, even an ex-thief..."
His sigh of relief was audible, and the thin shoulders fell loose at last. Her response was more than he'd been hoping for--unlike the Conan issue, she wasn't angry. She understood, even if he still didn't know her thoughts on Kaito. "I'm glad you're not mad about this," he admitted softly.
"Why would I be?" she asked, almost smiling, almost disbelieving that he'd think her response would be anger. "You told me yourself you didn't know until last week--and it's not something you were hiding from me, like Conan. I've got no reason to be angry with you for something that isn't your fault."
He returned her faint smile. "I just didn't know how you'd take it. Kaito and I...we've both got a lot at stake, and telling you is a risk. If you decide to go to the police, I can't stop you, but with the Organization..."
"They've been after you a lot longer than just that night at Tropical Land," Ran put in, her tone still composed. "I understand that much, at least. They've been enemies of your family for years, and your uncle's already dead--Kuroba-kun's at risk, and if they ever find out who you really are, Kudo or Kuroba...you're as good as dead, too."
His eyebrows shot up at her almost clincal description. "Well...yeah, I guess you've summed it up pretty well."
"I don't understand something though..." Her face turned slightly perplexed, her eyes holding his. "Kuroba-kun is the Kid...and I was wondering why you haven't turned him in yourself...but now..."
"I could have," he admitted. "I almost did. I was thinking about it...until I got to know him better. He's not doing it for himself--he's trying to stop them, just like me. We decided to work together because...I guess two heads are better than one--and we're cousins. Toichi Kuroba was my uncle--what else can I do? I can't be like my dad, and just turn my back on my family..."
"I see..." She frowned a little.
"It's because he's a thief, isn't it?" Shinichi asked quietly, cocking his head. "It's hard to understand because he's stealing and evading the police...and it goes against everything you've been taught."
She looked up at him, nodding.
"That's the way I felt about it too," he told her with a faint laugh. "And I still don't really approve of stealing. But I've gotten to know Kaito a lot better in the last few days--you were right, I've never met anyone like him...someone like me, I guess...and I know he isn't doing it for the fame or the money."
"So...you're okay with...?" She looked incredulous--the great Shinichi Kudo, letting a thief off the hook?
"I wouldn't say 'okay,'" he replied with a half-shrug. "Just sort of...putting up with it. It isn't the phantom thief's way to take things for personal gain. We steal things to protect them--because after the items are returned, their owner guards them that much more carefully. That's how my ojisan foiled the Organization so many times--he'd get there first. Kaito's doing the same thing, plus trying to draw the Organization's agents out by his actions and leading the police to them..." He blinked, noticing her startled look. "What? What's the matter?"
"You...just now you sounded...almost...proud of him. Like you were..." Her eyes were wide and startled. "And...you said...'we steal'..."
A jolt of shock rocketed through him as he realized that he had just said "we." For a moment he looked just as startled as she did, astonished that such a thing had slipped from his own mouth--where the hell had it even come from?--before he dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers slipping through his bangs as he fought back a wave of horror at his own thoughts. "I didn't mean to say that," he responded, barely a whisper.
"Shinichi...tell me you're not going to--to..."
"I don't really know what I'm going to do," he admitted, despondent. "I was going to help him find them...he was going to help me get information...and we were going to take them on together..."
"But why did you say...?"
"I don't know," he replied plaintively. "I've been fighting with myself for days--so many things became so clear when I realized... Ran, it isn't just Kaito and his father, and Dad...it's their--my whole family."
"You mean other--?"
He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes bright and bleak. "It's been happening for years. The Kurobas have been doing this for centuries--since the old times, when phantom thieves were as notorious as ninja, as infamous as ronin. It's been this way for generations, and I've got that in me--I didn't want to believe it even when Kaito told me, but I could be just as good as him...a thief just like him. I wasn't raised the way he was, but...but he was right--I've got the gift, just like he said...without even trying. I'm one of them, Ran...in that mansion, holding that diamond, I felt it--it was so easy it was like a game. He was right--by blood and by birth, I'm..."
He trailed off hoarsely; somehow he sounded all the more tragic with his little-boy voice made raspy by complex, tortured emotions that no ordinary child suffered. He was a small, hunched little figure on the end of her bed, suddenly distraught as if living the shock of the truth all over again. As if telling the tale forced him to acknowledge it--forced him to recognize what was in him, the blood that made him who and what he was.
"Shinichi..." Ran was staring at him again, something both horrified and understanding in her gaze. She was shocked, surprised--but she wasn't angry, wasn't accusing or even repulsed. In fact, to his own surprise, she was reaching for him--going out of her way to touch him, scooting to his side simply to put an arm around him. "Shinichi, it's okay..."
He'd felt that he didn't deserve her comfort--but when she offered it, his anguished heart wouldn't let him refuse; he couldn't have pulled away even if his mind had wanted to. One arm went around him, pulling him to her side; her other hand reached out to take his, squeezing it. With his mind focused on his heritage rather than his age, it had somehow ceased to matter that his hand was half the size of hers. Big or small, he welcomed her touch.
"I can guess what you're thinking," she whispered softly, no longer astonished or speechless. She was composed once again, sympathetic and concerned. "You're thinking I'll hate you because of this, aren't you? You're thinking I'll never want to see you again because you're supposedly a phantom thief. I know you too well, Shinichi Kudo."
He flinched when she used that name; at this point, he was neither Shinichi nor Kudo. Just a little boy falsely named Conan Edogawa, a refugee from the shattered Kuroba family.
Ran sighed deeply, her arm tightening around him. "I guess I understand...about you and Kuroba-kun and what you're doing. No matter what you thought I'd do...I don't think I could go to the police anyway. If what you said is true, they could be with the police too, and Kuroba-kun would be killed." She laughed softly, ironically. "I'm surprised, especially since I don't know Kuroba-kun all that well, but I like him--I still do, actually, despite him being Kid. He's so much like you, and being with him the other night made you seem so happy..." She paused, smiling almost playfully. "And if I turned him in, it would make Aoko-chan cry, and I couldn't do that to my new friend."
"She doesn't know..." Shinichi finally said, reassured by her understanding. "He can't tell her...she's the daughter of the police inspector assigned to catch him..."
Ran actually chuckled briefly. "Poor Kuroba-kun." She grew serious, watching his downcast face a little longer. Something was eating at him inside, some bit of guilt or worry. "Shinichi, you're still thinking those things, aren't you?"
His only response was a faint cringe.
"You baka..." She pulled him closer, resting her cheek on his hair. "I told you I understand. With everything I've heard, this is beyond the law and the police. The whole Organization...I don't think there is any way to stop them using traditional means. With things this bad, you and Kuroba-kun are going to have to resort to drastic measures--I understand that, and I accept it, no matter what you think. It started when you told me you're Conan--I knew then that we'd have to bend the rules to stop those people. I know you'll be saving lives, Shinichi..." Her eyes softened, glimmering. "...and I trust you. No matter what you have to do...I believe in you."
Shinichi's breath was shaky, but he couldn't help the grateful smile that appeared on his face. "Ran..." His voice was a soft, hoarse whisper as he met her eyes at last. "Have I told you...how much I love you?"
He loved how her eyes lit from within when he said those three little words--it made her even more beautiful, as if she had become a living angel. Her mischievous smile only accentuated the lovely image. "You have...twice, I think. Three if you count just now."
"I'll make it four," he promised. "I'm glad you understand...and I hope you'll be okay...I don't want you to get hurt because of this, because you know I love you and I never want anything to happen to you..."
"I know," she whispered. "And I'll be okay, as long as you're with me. As long as we're together, I'm going to keep counting--"
He clutched her hand, sincere and solemn. "I'll make it a million...if I live long enough..."
The thought of his death chilled her to the bone, and she held him that much tighter. "Of course you will--and I'll hold you to it," she replied quickly, refusing to dwell too long on what they faced and the definite possibility of the consequences. "I'm glad you told me the truth, and no matter what happens, I'll always believe in you...no matter who you are, or what you are, no matter what your father did, or anyone in your family...because I love you, Shinichi."
"Three," he said softly.
"Huh?"
"That's three times...you've told me you love me." He attempted a playful smile, but only got a wistful one. "And every time...it feels like the first time. I can't believe it sometimes..."
"You silly! Are you going to keep doubting?" She ruffled his hair with one hand, trying to lighten the mood as she hugged him earnestly. "I'm going to be with you always, so you'd just better start believing it!"
This time he managed a stronger smile, squeezing her in return. Ran just kept surprising him--with her strength, her understanding, her support and affection despite all the things he'd done, the lies he'd told her and the hurt he'd put her through. Her love was so deep he could hardly fathom it, and she gave it all to him; he only knew that something like it welled up in his own heart for her--an emotion so powerful it defied description. And if she felt for him anything like what he felt for her...then he had to be the luckiest man on Earth.
The sun was bright but not hot, the breeze pleasantly cool; it was a beautiful day, quite worthy of a Monday and the beginning of a new work week. However, despite the glorious morning, few people appreciated the view at this early an hour--and a certain not-quite-little-boy was one of those unappreciative people.
Conan was yawning frequently as he tagged along at Ran's side, looking rather bleary-eyed--and she seemed a bit sleepy as well as they strolled down the sidewalk, headed for a new day of school. It had taken a while for their conversation to wind down the night before; they had talked into the wee hours, discussing Kaito, the Organization, and the plans being made--as well as settling Shinichi's fears and uncertainty about his heritage. Ran was understanding and sympathetic, and her reassurance had worked miracles that night.
He felt remarkably good this morning, all things considered. Despite his bouts of yawning, he felt refreshed after the weekend's trials; a good night's sleep and Ran's support had done wonders for his confidence. He'd had one hell of a weekend, and at this point he almost welcomed another long, boring day at elementary school--it would be a refreshing dose of normal.
Conan was nearly back to his old self, cheerful and cute--with occasional yawns--as he followed his Neechan toward the school. Their playacting that morning had caused a hysterical bout of giggles once they'd gotten out the door and away from Kogoro Mouri; pulling the wool over his eyes had become quite an entertaining diversion.
Ran seemed happier as well, her face glowing with cheerfulness and her voice light. Conan couldn't help but enjoy himself, blessed with the chance to walk to school with her just like in the old days...almost. The matter of age still stood between them--and it wouldn't be just the two of them for long.
Eventually, they would meet up with Ai Haibara and the Young Detectives; another street down from that corner, Sonoko Suzuki would intercept them and the high schoolers would head off one direction while the kids left in another. The most exasperating part of walking to school was having to leave her side and go to kiddy class, but Conan was in a better mood than usual and the thought didn't dampen his spirits as much as it might have.
However, he did have one pressing concern on this otherwise pleasant day.
Waiting at the first street corner for the light to change, he reached up for Ran's hand, tugging lightly for attention. "Hey, Ran-neechan...can we go by Beika Street today?" he chirped.
She looked down at him. "Beika Street?"
Conan glanced about and, seeing no one around, lowered his voice. "I'd like to drop in and check on my mom," he nearly whispered. "Just for a sec."
His mask came back up--and so did hers, a smiling sisterly look with a bright, gentle voice. "Sure thing, Conan-kun! Come on, let's go." With a gentle pull on his hand, she set off, leading him in the direction of Beika Street...following her old route to school.
They walked hand-in-hand the whole way, looking innocent enough to anyone who happened to be watching. "Ran-neechan" was just as amiable as always, and "Conan" just as happy, but there was a change in their manner recently--a certain ease about them, a comfort in each other's presence that few but the most observant people would notice. They turned on to Beika Street and headed down the lane, cheerful as always.
But even Conan's irrepressibly cheerful mask was bound to falter at the unexpected.
He was not expecting to see a taxi parked in front of the Kudos' gate.
Concerned, and at once thinking that his parents were packing up and taking off again, he picked up his pace to a trot that forced Ran to quicken her stride. The taxi driver was boredly waiting in his seat, not paying attention to anything, and one of the rear passenger doors stood open. Conan dropped Ran's hand as he glanced into the cab, noting that there were a few suitcases inside already. Something puzzled him about which cases had been packed, but by then he was already coming around the corner of the wall, stepping through the gate.
His eyes quickly found the moving figures on the front porch, and he froze in place with no little amount of shock at what he saw. Behind him, Ran had to halt suddenly or trip over him--and hung back by the gatepost when she noticed what he was staring at.
Conan stood stock-still for a moment, gaping at the tableau on the front step, trying in that instant to comprehend what his eyes were telling him. His father, dressed in his traveling suit and with one small suitcase in hand, was stepping off the porch with a fixed, dead look in his eyes and a reasolute expression on his face. His mother, dressed only in a nightgown and robe, was standing quietly on the porch, her hair atypically rumpled, her eyes red as if from long hours of crying--though now, her cheeks were dry.
It took several moments for the horrifying, impossible reality to sink in, and several more moments for him to process that reality. It was so awful that for one instant he thought he was actually dreaming.
Then his brain engaged, time started again--and with a brief, shrill cry of desperation, Shinichi threw down his backpack and ran toward his house.
To be continued...
AN: @_@ Whew, this one's a doozy... The next file is coming in short order, as soon as I can crank up the press! We've got lots of ground to cover, a few more shocks to survive, and then I think we'll relax by enjoying a nice, calm, soothing murder mystery. Sound good? I thought so! ^_^ See you later!