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Relative Truth
by Becky Tailweaver
File 19: Masquerade
The upstairs of the Kudo house was dark and silent, with no life in any of the rooms. Kaito wandered slowly down the hall, poking his head into various doorways, looking for any sign of his cousin. There were no lights on, not even in Shinichi's bedroom; it seemed as though the small boy had vanished into thin air, and even the cunning mind of the famous phantom thief was beginning to scratch its figurative head in bewilderment as to where he could have gone.
Kaito reached the end of the upstairs hall and the last doorway. He leaned inside, discovering what was apparently the sewing room the women were talking about--and a steep set of stairs built against the wall, leading up to a doorway in the ceiling. From that wooden door, a sliver of dim light shone down, barely outlining the steps.
Aha! So that's where you got to... With a faint smile, Kaito quietly climbed the stairs, reaching up to gently slide back the door. He poked his head up like a curious gopher from a burrow, blinking in the dusty yellow light, peering through the piled furniture and jumbled boxes that filled the attic.
As he stepped up and closed the door behind him, the wooden floor creaked softly beneath his feet. He began to carefully make his way between cloth-covered furnishings and over piles of scattered toys, tools, and trinkets, keeping his head down to avoid the rafters and the bare, low-hanging lightbulbs.
He finally found what he was looking for near the back of the attic, behind a grouping of old-looking furniture that had been moved from its original position judging by the skid-marks across the floorboards. The small form perched atop the black trunk barely moved at his approach, seeming only to withdraw further into itself.
Kaito stopped a meter away, his expression going from pensive to troubled as he gazed at the thin, hunched shoulders. Shinichi wouldn't even turn and look at him, sending a clear Go away! with his reclusive attitude--practically broadcasting it like a mental command. Kaito could almost feel it in the air around him; Shinichi wanted to be left completely alone.
Sorry, I'm not about to comply... With a deep breath, a smiling Poker Face slid over his features like a clown's makeup, and he cheerfully covered the remaining distance between them in a couple of steps. "Wow, neat place you've got up here!" he commented, coming alongside the tensed form. "Lots of interesting old junk--and hey, is this what I think it is?"
His eyes, scanning the heaps and stacks of items spilled from the upturned and scattered boxes, settled on a glittering piece of metal that stuck half-out of a group of tools. Kneeling, his deft fingers scooped it up, barely disturbing the other pieces--thieves' tools, he noted with a slight wince, remembering how upset Shinichi had been that first day, when Kaito had approached him for the first time as himself. The boy had probably felt much like Kaito had when he'd stumbled into his father's secret room, learning the truth for the first time--only worse, since Shinichi had believed for so long in the side of justice and law, trusting in what his father had taught him.
"Wow, now this is something," he continued brightly, turning the item over in his hands. It was slim, made of silvery-grray metal and shaped like a large pocketknife. With a flick and a twist, he opened it, sliding forth the shaft, hooks, and pins of the delicate tool. "See? It's a lockpick! You put it in the lock like this, and control the pins with these little levers--" He demonstrated, knowing that Shinichi was watching though he would not acknowledge him. "--and with a little work, it takes on the shape of the lock's key and you can open it. Though it's pretty old and probably wouldn't work on most locks nowadays--they're too small."
No response; he glanced at the unmoving boy for a moment, Poker Face slipping a little before he caught it. Trying a different tack, he dropped the lockpick and went for the contents of another pile. Under a heap of handkerchiefs--a large number of finely-made real silk ones that made him slightly jealous--he found some new gadgets, these perhaps slightly more acceptable than a lockpick.
"Cool! Now this I wouldn't mind having! You know they don't make these any more?" He picked up a handful of thin green paper rods, each surmounted by a colored bulb of silk. "Bet you don't know what these do--here, watch." With a flick of his wrist, one of the rods disappeared into a sleeve. A wave of his hand and a twist of two fingers, and a beautiful white rose appeared in his grip, made of silk and paper. "It's a magic flower--see? This is for really tight tricks when you can't spare the space for a real rose without...squishing it...and..."
He glanced at Shinichi again, his resolve wilting when the boy still wouldn't acknowledge him. He let out a puff of a pouting sigh. "Y'know, you make a really lousy audience..."
There was movement, finally, but only as Shinichi's head turned away with a faint exhalation.
Kaito finally gave up, his cheerful Poker Face sliding off like a tired mask as he dropped the spent flower and sat down in front of the trunk. Cross-legged and slump-shouldered, he stared at the unresponsive boy for long moments before his eyes dropped to the black chest.
"My dad...has a box like this," he said finally, his voice almost too soft to hear as he reached out and tapped lightly on the dark polished surface.
Shinichi stirred. "Why are you here?" he asked, equally faint. "Why do you keep doing this?"
Kaito almost couldn't hide his sigh, tension easing a bit now that his cousin had finally responded. He shrugged, a short jerk of his shoulders that helped conceal his relief. "I dunno. Maybe 'cause I care."
Shinichi gave a derisive snort. "I didn't even know you until a few days ago. I can't suddenly mean so much to you that you follow me around and try to cheer me up every--"
"What--can't you?" Kaito broke in, frowning slightly. "I've known about you a lot longer than you've known about me. We're family--and that means something to me no matter how long I've known you! Idiot..."
Shinichi finally moved, finally glanced at him through a fringe of tousled bangs. He was more inclined to listen and believe his cousin when Kaito's so-called Poker Face wasn't between them. Like his own Conan disguise, it was concealing and superficial--meaning little in regards to matters of the heart. That was the point of such masks...
"So tell me," Kaito began again, "are you sulking up here because Ojisan took off, or because of the new kid?"
That got a stronger reaction than Kaito had anticipated. Shinichi abruptly uncurled from his hunched position on the chest, whirling to face him fully, teeth clenched and small hands fisted. Looking almost as if he was about to come off the trunk and attack his cousin, he spat out words thick with anger. "You shut up! This has nothing to do with you--what do you know? You've got no right--you have no idea--!"
And that brought something out of Kaito that neither of them would ever have expected--especially not Kaito himself. A sudden equally-hot burst of anger boiled up in response to Shinichi's accusations, something even he couldn't control, turning his once-calm face into an identical snarl. "My father is dead! You think I don't have any idea? I can't even cling to the hope he might come back someday! My father is gone forever! And you say I have no right? What right do you have to say that to me? I can't even hope...!"
He stopped himself before he went too far, half-risen from his spot on the floor with Shinichi staring at him in startled resentment. He swallowed back his fury, swallowed back his tears, all the while wondering how the hell that outburst had escaped his iron guard.
Shinichi gulped as well, unnerved beyond belief at the brief explosion, far more intense than the one he'd seen yesterday during the argument with Yuusaku. Jolted out of his sullen sulk by the sharp, painful tone of Kaito's angry voice, he drew a shaky breath as he watched his cousin's temper subside. "Kaito, I...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..."
A half-smile jerked at Kaito's mouth for a fleeting instant, a fitful attempt at cheer. "No, never mind," he said, marshalling his tones back to normal. "I shouldn't have jabbed you in the first place. You're right...I don't understand. My father didn't walk out on me--uh..."
Kaito regretted his choice of words at Shinichi's flinch, but when the boy spoke again, his tone wasn't angry. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. You do understand--more than anyone else. We're in the same boat...right? Absent or dead, both our dads are gone."
The crooked, barely-visible smile finally shone through, a sad shadow of Kaito's usual cheer but still there--and reflected equally in Shinichi's doleful young face. Through those tiny, somber, near-identical smiles, a message of apology and forgiveness passed silently between them.
"Um..." Shinichi shifted his position atop the black trunk, stretching his feet out and fidgeting awkwardly. "You said...your dad had a box like this one?"
Kaito glanced at him, seeing the hesitant, genuine curiosity. "Yeah...a white one," he answered, keeping up the pretense of changing the subject. "With silver metal, and sky-blue velvet inside. I could show it to you sometime..."
There was silence between them for long moments after that, floating heavily in the dusty, yellow-lit space of the musty attic. It was too awkward to look at each other for long, with what they had said and how they had treated each other, however briefly. But the strange, suddenly stronger sense of connection had not gone away; Shinichi had not withdrawn in hurt, Kaito had not stomped off in anger--they were still face to face, still willing to talk.
And in the end, it was Shinichi who spoke first. He didn't know why; perhaps because, despite his anger and defensiveness, he really needed someone to talk to--someone like him, who could understand his situation, his emotions. Someone like Kaito--who had already lost his father, who lived with the same gift/curse of intelligence and ability, who struggled with a dual life and a dire secret...
"I didn't mean to walk out on everyone like that," he confessed in a near-whisper. "I'm running away, just like Dad, aren't I...?"
"No you're not," Kaito responded. His composure was considerably more stable than Shinichi's, and though they still didn't look at each other, his voice was stronger, laced with quiet conviction. "I did a lot of this when my dad died. I needed time to myself, to sort things out..." His eyes settled on a pile of magic props, spotting a deck of cards with a pattern identical to one he had at home. "It hurts to lose someone you love, no matter how they go."
"It's not just that," Shinichi murmured.
Kaito's hand reached out almost of its own volition; in a moment, the deck of cards was dancing through his fingers like a ballet performance. It gave him something to keep his hands busy--it always helped him to calm himself and think--and it gave Shinichi something to focus on. The boy watched the whirl of cards with distant eyes, seemingly enraptured by the display. "What is it, then?" Kaito asked. "C'mon, you can't really be mad about your mom's announcement, can you?"
Shinichi winced near-invisibly, and the cards in Kaito's hands faltered almost unnoticeably. The teenage magician hadn't meant to sound uncaring, but the words had come out in his usual casual, careless tones.
"It sounds really stupid and petty, doesn't it?" the boy snorted softly, sounding angry--but at himself or his parents, Kaito couldn't tell. "I'm...I'm jealous of a kid who hasn't even been born yet..."
"You're what?" Kaito actually lost a few cards, the deck coming to an unsteady halt in his left hand.
Shinichi scowled. "I know it's idiotic of me. I'm old enough I shouldn't feel like this--it's for little kids. Spoiled little brats who can't stand not to be their mommy's favorite..." He snorted again, an empty, lonesome sound. "That describes me perfectly right now."
"Well, I guess...it's natural," Kaito observed, eyebrows high, as he scooped up the cards he'd dropped and started again. "I think I'd probably be feeling...a little jealous, if my family was suddenly all ga-ga over a new baby. But right now..." He offered a wistful smile. "I'm more jealous of you right now. If I could have a little brother or sister, at least that'd mean my dad's still alive..."
Shinichi actually returned the smile, though his was sad and sardonic. "Trade you places?"
"I wish. Don't even go there." The teen thief almost seemed to shudder. "I wouldn't wish my situation on anyone. Believe me. You're better off where you are."
"Am I?" The resulting sigh seemed almost too deep for the small lungs that produced it. "On top of it, I don't even get to be a real niichan. Not like this. I'm Conan Edogawa, nothing more than a distant cousin. It's not my little brother--it's Shinichi Kudo's."
Kaito looked up at the small boy, realization stilling the cards in his hands once more. Shinichi's soft voice was touched with such pain and longing, his eyes dark with angry regret.
"My mom's showered more attention on me now--now that I'm little and 'cute' again--than she ever did before," the boy continued, his tones turning almost...bitter. "She never did anything like this for me..."
Kaito swallowed. "Anything like what?" he hazarded to ask.
"She never decorated a nursery for me, or wanted to fix up the house for me--nothing," Shinichi snorted resentfully. "My parents were in the 'young and reckless' category, and I was just an 'oops' that got in the way. They wanted to be fashionably childless and run all over the world, free to do whatever they pleased. Mom was pretty happy until I was about five or six and the cuteness factor wore off--and she got bored with being a good little housewife. I was never smart enough for Dad--no matter how hard I try, he's never satisfied..."
Kaito watched the play of emotion across the boy's face, eyes wide with surprised sympathy. Shinichi had never opened up to him like this before--and he could hardly bear to break the moment with his own words.
"My parents were always going somewhere, so I got to spend a lot of weekends at a lot of interesting places," Shinichi continued quietly. "If nothing else, I learned tons of things that way. I guess some would call me lucky...but even if Mom and Dad included me, I still felt like I was in their way. Especially when I nagged them to bring Ran along or something like that."
"It...it can't be that bad," Kaito said hesitantly. "I'm sure they loved having you along--"
"Yeah, right," Shinichi snapped. "They dumped me as soon as they legally could. When I turned fourteen, they gave me the keys to the house and took off. I chose to live here instead of the Hawaii place--they would've left me behind either way. They've been globe-trotting ever since, having the time of their lives while I'm here dealing with this..."
Kaito winced; there wasn't anything he could say to that.
"And now Mom comes back here and asks me if I want to be a niichan--like there's nothing wrong at all!" The boy's small hands fisted. "She's excited about this. She's fixing up the house and talking about baby clothes with her best friends... If I was such a burden, what's so different now? Why is she so happy this time--when she wasn't happy about me...?"
As Shinichi's voice trailed off in a choked rasp, Kaito clutched the deck of cards tight in his hand. Perhaps in the matters of missing a father, he could understand and empathize with his cousin--but in this, he had no experience. He could hardly imagine feeling like that--thinking he was unwanted, a burden to his mother, a disappointment to his father--but he tried to reach for those emotions, tried to understand...
An involuntary shiver coursed through him, as if those feelings had actually brushed coldly against his heart for an instant. Hurt, loneliness, desolation...and a terrible sense of abandonment...
"I...I can't speak for your mother," he said haltingly, "and I don't even want to bring Ojisan into this...but..." He fiddled with the cards--not shuffling, just turning them over and over in his hands--and cleared his throat nervously, hoping to phrase this right, hoping he wouldn't injure his cousin's already-bruised feelings. "From...everything I've seen...Obasan loves you a lot, Shinichi. I know I've only known her a couple days, but she...the way she looks at you, and...her voice when she talks about you...and the way she...sort of...feels...it's the same as my mom. You know? That same..."
Shinichi glanced at him. "I know...it's just...actions speak louder than words...and they..."
"Sometimes my dad didn't have a lot of time for me," Kaito admitted hesitantly. "Looking back, I know it's because he was the Kid, and because of what he had to do...but back then, sometimes I wondered if he liked his work as a magician more than he liked his family. But I believed him when he told me how important I was--how much he loved me, no matter how much he was gone." The youth's eyes were distant, wistful. "I still believe him, even now."
The small boy stared at him for a moment, and Kaito shook himself, his wistfulness replaced by a somewhat embarassed grin. "Aw, listen to me--I'm getting all sappy. Sorry about that...I probably don't really understand what you're going through--"
"No--I--" Shinichi gulped, then tried again. "I think...you understand better than anyone else I know. Hell, you understand me better than I thought anyone could...even Ran, maybe. And I'm still trying to understand you..."
"I'm not all that complicated," Kaito snorted with faint humor. "I thought you were the unbeatable Great Detective of the East."
"And I thought you were the enigmatic, world-renowned Kaitou Kid." Shinichi took his cousin by surprise with his response, the same melancholy, near-invisible mirth in his eyes. They gazed at each other for a few moments, trying to let that tiny, blossoming brightness grow. "I guess we've got a lot to learn about each other," the boy said after a while. "Since...we are family, and we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on..."
Kaito blinked at him in astonishment--and a sort of joyful relief, more than glad to hear his cousin confirm their association in his own words, despite everything that had happened that day. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, we are."
"It's...good to know that...isn't it?" Despite the hurt and depression that still roiled down inside him, Shinichi was able to offer a smile that was only faintly brushed with sadness. Right now he was glad of Kaito's presence; not long ago they had been on opposite sides, but in a few whirlwind days of chaos, emotion, and revelation, all that had changed--now they were allies, friends, family. And more than anything, Shinichi was reassured to know that Kaito would stick by him.
Knowing that there were two people in his life who would never abandon him--Kaito, his cousin, a friend even closer than a brother; Ran, who loved him, and whom he loved more than life--made the pain of his father's absence a little easier to bear.
"Say, um, I know this is probably a stupid time to ask, but..." Kaito tried a genuine grin, finding to his surprise that it worked. "You want to, uh, come take a look at some plans of mine sometime?"
Shinichi blinked at him.
Scratching the back of his head, Kaito pressed on bravely. "I thought maybe we should try and get started on this whole thing, and I had some ideas about how you could help with a few angles, and maybe you could sort of proofread my plan of action and...uh...I sound pretty dumb, don't I?"
The corner of Shinichi's mouth twitched. "Only when you use 'and' more than a dozen times in one sentence."
"Hey, I didn't!" Catching himself before his protest escalated, Kaito pulled himself out of the indignant glare. "Um, anyway, I thought just now...maybe if we got a few things accomplished, and we actually made some headway against the Organization...maybe we could show Ojisan that we really can do this."
Startled, Shinichi caught his breath and stared, stiffening.
"I know it's probably idiotic of me to ask you right now, with all this..." Kaito shrugged, swiping a hand through his bangs and looking down. "Never mind, forget it. It can wait. You--"
"I agree; we should do something," Shinichi interrupted softly. "Even if...even if right now I don't think I could really...actually..."
"No problem," Kaito replied, nodding vigorously. "I understand. And it's not like I'm asking you to jump right in, wear the suit, and run my errands for me! Hell no--I just want you to help me make it work. If you could see what I plan to do, and tell me what I need to do to make sure they get nailed..."
"Yeah," the boy said thoughtfully, looking down. "I could do that. As long as your plan includes giving it back--"
"I can promise you that."
"Good." His eyes focused once again, Shinichi looked up at his cousin through Conan's glasses, his mouth curving a little into a real smile. "And one other thing--it's been bugging me for a while now..."
Kaito cocked an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"How did you do that thing with the flower?"
Downstairs, things were considerably more lighthearted--if one didn't count Ran, who cast frequent worried glances toward the living room door. Though she took active part in the conversation, her heart still fretted over Shinichi--and Kaito, Kaitou Kid, Shinichi's cousin...
All the women--Ai included, and surprisingly unafraid of Fumiyo and Yukiko's knowledge of her identity--had gathered in the living room, on the couch and armchairs, with more cups of tea and some of Agasa's leftover snacks. The professor himself had retreated to the library to pore over some of the books there and wait until Ai was ready to go home, since too much girl-talk would overpower his male sensibilities. With the menfolk out of the way, the girls were free to chatter, amiably discussing house decor, new babies, and, of course, the men in their lives.
It was probably a good thing that Kaito and Shinichi were otherwise occupied upstairs.
"Wait, we're going about this all wrong," Fumiyo spoke up in the midst of a debate about which furnishings to have besides a crib and changing table. "We're arguing about furniture when we haven't even picked a color scheme yet!"
Yukiko paused in her brief rundown of dresser styles to glance at her friend. "Oh, you're right. Well, I've always been somewhat partial to green."
"I hardly think green is an acceptable color for a nursery," Ai commented coolly, looking remarkably adult despite her size.
"Isn't it better to use pink or blue?" Ran wondered aloud after yet another glance at the doorway. "My mom had my room done up in pink with white lacy curtains when I was little."
"The only problem with that is I don't know if it's a girl or a boy yet," Yukiko said, briefly pursing her lips. "I was thinking more along the lines of a neutral color wallpaper pattern, with a border print of fuzzy animals or something..."
"What an excellent idea!" Fumiyo agreed, jotting something on the note pad she was holding for just such a reason. "Perhaps a cream or light yellow theme? That would be very cheerful."
"You can always redo it later on, as the child grows up and his or her tastes change," Ai suggested, ever-practical. But when she spoke next, her tone changed somewhat--turning softer, almost hesitant. "By the way, Yukiko-san..." She looked up from her teacup, her expression genuinely curious. "What are you hoping for? Girl, or boy?"
The immediate conversation stopped, half in thoughtfulness and half in surprise that Ai of all people would ask something like that, and in such a way. They all looked at her for a moment, and she stared back, startled at their response--until her old habitual coolness took over and she looked down to sip her tea.
"Actually..." Yukiko replied softly, drawing Ai's gaze up again. "I'd like a little girl."
Both Fumiyo and Ran smiled sentimentally. "Oh, that would be so darling!" Fumiyo sighed. "I'll bet it's a girl--you've already had one boy, and I'm sure with your luck you'll get exactly what you want."
"I think it's a girl too," Ran put in, for once not checking the doorway before she spoke.
"Not to mention you'll no longer be out-voted in family meetings," Ai said with dry humor. "With a daughter on your side, at least you'll be able to hold the men to a tie."
"That's true," Yukiko admitted with a giggle. "And I'll finally have someone to follow in my footsteps and become famous on the silver screen! I could tell it wasn't going to be Shin-chan pretty early on--the boy has no talent for embellishment. That and he can't sing."
"Any director would be mad not to cast a daughter of yours, Yukiko-chan." Fumiyo chuckled lightly. "She'll be beautiful, with your hair and Yuusaku-san's eyes..."
"Shinichi really does have beautiful eyes, doesn't he?" Ran mused absently, her own eyes rather distant.
Beside her, Yukiko smiled gleefully. "Planning ahead, Ran-chan?" she asked, nudging the suddenly-blushing girl. "I can tell you that the Kudo--er, Kuroba men do tend to pass on those eyes, you know."
Ran ducked her head, her face still burning from her careless comment. "I didn't...I mean I wasn't...!"
"I admire a woman who knows what she wants," Ai added sardonically, giving Ran a humorous glance that only deepened the girl's blush.
"It's okay, Ran-chan," Fumiyo said, trying not to giggle too much. "We're all women here--a girl's gotta dream, right? I remember when I was young and single."
"Ah, those were the days," Yukiko sighed. "Scoping out the boys, hoping for dates, dreaming of passionate romance..."
Vaguely, Ran wondered if there was smoke coming out of her ears yet. Even Ai was laughing softly at her flushing cheeks, as if the red-faced teenager was the only innocent in the room. For all she knew, maybe she was...
"Actually, I've been fairly certain of those two since they were in junior high," Yukiko was saying with a nod. "To say nothing of having played together practically their whole lives. I'm almost positive I'll be lucky enough to have Ran-chan as my daughter-in-law." She smiled again at Ran, leaning over. "Come on, now, I know you've thought about it at least once or twice."
Nervous, Ran pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, focusing on the teacup in her hand. "It's...only natural...right? And Shinichi is...um, well, he's...very handsome...and smart...and..." She quickly lost her nerve, finding words insufficient.
Fumiyo nodded sagely--the image of a wise mother completely destroyed by the giggle that popped out. "I know a nice young girl that I'm sure is the same way about my Kaito," she said, and Ran was fairly certain she was speaking of Aoko Nakamori. "And it's a pity she couldn't be here for this. I'm sure she could use the hint."
The two older women fell together laughing, while Ai hid hers behind her teacup and Ran blinked confusedly. "You know Fumiyo-chan and I both expect some lovely grandchildren someday," Yukiko said, making a valiant attempt to appear serious.
Ran flushed bright red again, heartily glad that Shinichi wasn't anywhere near. "I-I'll try to keep that in mind, Obachan..." She managed a soft giggle. "But if Shinichi were standing here right now, I'm sure he'd faint!"
All of them laughed at that, a good long breathless laugh--except for Ai, who confined herself to chuckles. "I do hope you're blessed with a girl, Yukiko-san," the miniature scientist said, once her own laughter had passed. "Though I must admit much of my hope is based on the anticipation of Kudo-kun's reaction."
"That's true, most boys do want little brothers," Yukiko mused, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as she regained her breath. "I guess he'll just have to live with the disappointment."
"I suppose the Girl vote is unanimous, then?" Fumiyo piped up from the far end of the couch.
"Yea," said Ai.
"Yes," said Ran.
"I certainly hope so," said Yukiko.
"Good." Fumiyo thought for a second, then smiled. "Because with only Shin-chan voting for a boy, it's almost certain to be a girl."
"Then maybe we should do the room in pink, shouldn't we?" Ran asked, mouth quirking.
Yukiko nodded, her expression switching to determined. "I believe we should! In fact, I'm so certain it's a girl, I'll even go buy the pink wallpaper tomorrow!"
The sound of male voices by the doorway--one young, one younger--caused all of them to look up, seeing Shinichi and Kaito coming to a grinding halt in the living room door. And, the women noticed, looking a bit worried about what they had just walked into.
Ran brightened upon seeing Shinichi; he seemed visibly changed, much less downcast. His blue eyes still bore shadows, but the grayness to them was gone and his face was not dismal or frowning. When his eyes met hers, he smiled.
"We, ah, aren't interrupting you ladies, are we?" Kaito asked, doing an admirable job of hiding his nervousness. "Shinichi and I were just on our way to the kitchen for a snack..."
"No, I think we're done with the dangerous parts," Yukiko replied, sharing a giggling glance with Fumiyo.
"Are you feeling better, Shinichi?" Ran blurted, sitting forward on the couch. "You look..."
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his gaze flicking over Fumiyo and Ai. "Kaito and I were just fooling around in the attic with some of Dad's old junk. Which reminds me--!" His face suddenly brightened enough to surprise all of them and he trotted across the carpet to stand before Ran, suddenly grinning and full of boyish mystery.
"Shinichi...?" Brows high, Ran watched him with surprise and curiousity as he brought his small hands up from his sides to show her they were empty.
"Watch this, Ran!" he told her eagerly.
"Drum roll please..." Kaito drawled in the background.
There was a twirl and flick of one small hand, and--with a look of great concentration and half an instant's hesitation--the little boy somehow produced a beautiful red silk rose from out of nowhere. She gasped, stunned; grinning, he held it up before her proudly. "Ta-da!"
Kaito applauded amusedly from the entryway, leaning against the doorjamb. His eyes met his mother's briefly--only briefly; he flushed and looked away when he saw the surprise and approval in her eyes--before he turned his gaze to his small cousin. "Hey, I thought you said you were hungry."
"I am!" Shinichi tossed over his shoulder. "I'll be right there."
Kaito shrugged and headed for the kitchen. Shinichi offered Ran the rose with a sweeping bow--a comical gesture in his present form, but he laughed along with them as Ran accepted the gift with a faint blush.
As the others began to talk about the magically appearing silk rose and how he'd managed that trick--a secret he refused to divulge--Ai scooted out of her armchair and carried her teacup toward the kitchen. Her face was set and neutral, betraying nothing of what lay beneath--but inside she was nervous, worried, apprehensive.
Kaito Kuroba was connected to the Black Organization.
Kudo-kun had told her almost nothing about him, just that Kuroba was somehow connected to that feared syndicate--and, vaguely, that he was a possible ally. That sort of ambiguity always triggered her Yellow Alert status, especially where the Organization was involved; having yet another person with ties to the Syndicate in their secretive little cabal only made them that much more likely to be discovered.
Ai had not been the least bit surprised that Kuroba was introduced to her as Kudo's first cousin--the resemblance between the two was striking. She would have assumed them to be brothers, perhaps even twins, had she simply seen them on the street and not known who they were. "Family" was the reason Kudo-kun had asked her for that temporary cure; "family" was the reason he was taking that risk. And perhaps it was because she remembered her sister--because she remembered what family meant--that she let him have the capsule.
Kuroba-kun didn't look particularly dangerous. At first glance, he wasn't noteworthy--on the surface, just another ordinary teenage boy. But she knew better; she had played this kind of game, had lived this kind of life. Kuroba wore a mask, like Kudo-kun's--he was the same kind of deceptively still water that always ran perilously deep, his currents dangerously swift and strong.
He was ordinary until she saw the strangely familiar way he moved; balanced, fluid, alert, someone who know how to move and when, who had seen action, who could do more than others and knew it--who could not even be touched unless he wished it. He was ordinary until she looked into his eyes--bottomless, brilliant eyes like Kudo's, that could impart so much and still so skillfully conceal everything within.
He was ordinary until she saw him--really looked at him--and knew how much like Shinichi he was; her first thought had been Oh God there's two of them, followed by the memory of what Kudo-kun had told her before. Any mention of the Organization automatically put her on-edge.
And knowing that Kuroba was the same as Kudo--and that he was such an undefined factor--threatened to push her into Red Alert.
When Ai entered the kitchen, her steps were solid and quiet, passing across the linoleum to set her cup by the sink. Kuroba-kun was halfway inside the refrigerator--as per typical teenage behavior--rooting around in the dishes of leftovers from dinner. From within the fridge she heard his voice, sounding relaxed and cheerful. "Hey, Shinichi, there's a bowl of teriyaki left here if you--"
Kuroba himself finally emerged from the refrigerator, the aforementioned bowl in one hand and a lighthearted expression on his face--until his head cleared the door and he spotted her, freezing, his voice stopping like a switched-off radio.
"Kudo-kun is still entertaining the others in the living room," Ai informed him blandly, watching his face lose its animation and lock itself smoothly into a practiced blankness--perfectly neutral, perfectly unreadable. The bowl of teriyaki was set soundlessly on the countertop.
The standoff remained for several seconds; Ai regarded him casually, watching carefully for the flickers within his eyes that she could see--first had been alarm, then wariness that vanished into his mask. Now, impatience began to seep through, darkening the mask from neutral to just slightly irritated. Her cool, unruffled gaze was getting to him; she knew it was unnerving coming from a small girl. Was her disguise perhaps better than his, or was it just the utter, impartial detachment she wore as a protective skin?
"So what do you want?" he asked after a few moments, his voice mildly sharp. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Okay, so maybe he could read her too, despite her efforts--maybe he had seen the traces of fear, hostility, and suspicion. Keeping her voice level and slightly amused, she answered. "A cat can look at a king--what difference does it make? Besides, you're interesting to look at."
"Really." He was good--barely a shift around his eyes, the faintest trace of narrowing. She was putting him on guard; he was getting deeper into that unreadable mask, more and more enigmatic. "Shinichi told me about you. You're the one who made the stuff that did that to him. You were with them."
There was a roughness in his voice on that last phrase; she didn't have to ask who he meant by "them." It was hard to keep her features this tightly controlled--dammit, she was going to keep the upper hand here, or at least stay even with him.
"I was," she replied coolly. "And from what I've been told, you've got something to do with 'them' as well. It makes me wonder why Kudo-kun trusts you as much as he obviously does. You two have been aquainted since...was it Friday, perhaps? And you're already on first-name terms with each other."
"We're cousins." So flat, so obscure! He was a blank spot on her radar, completely illegible. "Is that so unusual?"
"You also know who he is." She made sure that her own displeasure was communicated clearly through her piercing gaze. "You know about what happened to him, and you know about me and the Organization, obviously--he's told you everything. You must have one hell of a good reason for him to trust you; the Kudo-kun I know would never be so carelessly open."
His sudden half-smile made a jolt of alarm spin through her. "I do have a hell of a good reason," he responded, a bit of some noticeable but unidentifiable emotion touching his voice. "I trusted him enough to take the first step--and he returned that trust. Family works that way." Then the emotion dropped away and his smooth voice was cool again, almost icy. "But I don't know you, Ai Haibara--or whoever you are."
"Kudo-kun trusts me," she reminded him almost loftily. "Isn't that enough?"
"I suppose it is," Kuroba replied. "But just because he has to trust you with his secrets doesn't mean I'm going to share mine. If you're worried about me and the Black Organization, don't be--they're my enemies. That's all I need to say."
Ai could feel her expression sliding into faint surprise--she was losing the battle. "I assure you, Kuroba-kun--the last thing you'll find me doing is rushing off to play spy for my former associates. That would be the best way to get myself killed--and the rest of you, as well. Much as I hesitate to admit it, I've grown...rather fond of the people here--the Professor, the children, Mouri-chan--and I've no desire to see them murdered in their sleep."
There was a flicker in his eyes, obscure but definitely there.
"That baka Kudo-kun knows that too," she continued. "He's in nearly the same position as me, hiding in the form of a child. Even if there was a permanent cure, we couldn't partake of it at this point--it would be far too dangerous to everyone around us to simply try to go back to our ordinary lives. The last thing I want is to be exposed--in any fashion, by anyone--so naturally I'm suspicious of you. You're connected to them somehow; they're obviously hunting for you, too, if they're your enemy as you say...though how you can walk about in broad daylight unmolested I don't know."
At this, the half-smile returned faintly. "I have my ways," he said quietly. "Suffice to say that I'm not the one they're looking for. At least not yet."
She blinked at that, allowing herself to frown. "Then you're very lucky. You don't know what they--"
"Don't assume anything about me," he interrupted smoothly. "I know perfectly well what they're capable of, and how powerful they are. I may not have the information that you and Shinichi have gathered, but I've walked on the other side of the line and I've watched them from that side of the glass."
"Then you know how ruthless they can be--especially the section of the Organization that's after us." She looked him full in the eyes, unflinching from the coolness in his gaze, knowing that her own stare was equally distant and chilly. "When you are no longer useful, or become an obstruction, you're executed. When you become a threat to them, no quarter is given until you're dead. I've seen it happen too many times, to too many people..."
"That's right; he told me they killed your sister," he said softly, unflinching at the sudden sharp glare she sent at him. "They killed my father too."
The biting retort she had been phrasing died in her throat, her expression giving way to shock and comprehension. The Organization was his enemy--they had taken someone precious from him, just as they had stolen Akemi from her.
Kuroba was suddenly almost frightening as he said that; there was a hot, angry fire that burned fiercely behind his mask, visible only through his eyes--a flame that was vengeful, dangerous, and passionate. Sharply focused fury, precisely honed and directed at their enemy, hidden deeply away from the eyes of everyone around him.
There was a story here. She knew it instantly; there was a history to this--a reason for his father's death, a reason for his current association with Kudo. She'd thought she had all the pieces of the puzzle in her hands--but there were many missing pieces, she realized; whole parts of this puzzle, parts that she'd never even known existed, were hidden inside both Kaito Kuroba and Shinichi Kudo.
Finding those pieces, putting them together, and completing the picture...it might let her see just what was going on here. Why Kudo-kun had been of such interest to the Syndicate before, why Kuroba-kun had chosen now to join their small band...the answers to a million different questions. Because there was something she was missing--some secret she obviously wasn't in on. Suddenly she felt ignorant and out of the loop--suddenly nothing seemed clear.
Dammit, if they would just tell her, all of this would make sense!
They were standing there staring at each other--one calm and composed, one astonished and upset--when light, rapid footsteps approached the kitchen door. Kudo-kun popped through the doorway at a good clip, obviously intent on food--when he spotted the two on the other side of the room and pulled up short, slipping on the linoleum in his socks and almost taking a nosedive to the floor. Startled, he gazed from one to the other, clearly at a loss in this unexpectedly tense situation.
Abruptly, Kuroba was smiling and cheerful, animated once again, his face no longer set in an enigmatic stare. "Hiya, Shinichi! I was wondering when you'd finally quit flirting with Ran-san and get in here. Still hungry? I found some teriyaki and there's still plenty of rice in the fridge..."
Kuroba pulled open the refrigerator once again; Kudo blinked and seemed to shrug--then readily joined Kuroba in the fridge, taking part in his cousin's merry chatter with calmer, more sardonic tones as they discussed the possibility of zapping the dish of fried pork in the microwave.
Suddenly excluded, Ai watched them with narrow, calculating eyes. Kudo-kun was pretending nothing had happened, and Kuroba was wearing another mask--a jovial smiling one, but a mask nonetheless, and Kudo was playing along. Taking his cousin's side in the matter. He didn't even ask...
Kudo-kun trusted Kuroba--with their secrets, with their lives...and the reverse was true as well. But the two of them shared secrets that outsiders weren't allowed to know; did that mean that she was outside of Kudo's trust now? Was she excluded because she didn't rate high enough in his estimate, or merely because she wasn't family? While their lives were on the line and the Organization lurked around every turn, these two played favorites and kept secrets that could be crucial to their survival...!
Her furious scowl was present for only a few seconds before it vanished beneath her usual cool expression. Turning on her heel, she left the two of them with their food and strode smoothly from the room--not quite forceful enough to be called "storming," but definitely more fierce than mere walking. Her face set and unreadable, she returned to the living room--where the women were still talking amiably, paying little attention to her entrance--and plopped down in her armchair. She would not, even under threat of death, admit that she was sulking.
She felt she had every right to be angry. Didn't she have just as much at stake as they?
The evening wore on. The women still chatted quietly and comfortably around a pot of tea long since gone cold; Ai remained to listen, still peevish, her thoughts turned inward as the lazy flow of conversation swirled around her. No one seemed to notice her moodiness, mistaking her silence for sleepiness and paying little attention to what flickered in her eyes, half-hidden by her bangs.
With plates of reheated snacks in hand, the boys had disappeared upstairs to Shinichi's bedroom, taking Kaito's pack with them. They set themselves up at the desk, pushing Shinichi's long-forgotten literature assignment aside and spreading Kaito's papers out. There was only one desk chair, so the smaller of the two perched on the desk itself, Indian-style--where he quickly proved that he was, like Kaito, perfectly able to read upside-down and backwards. Completion of homework commenced, with Shinichi gladly participating--though trigonometry was not the only topic of discussion, being an easy subject for both of them and requiring only a portion of their mental resources.
This time of relative quiet continued for an hour or so, until a foray into the study revealed Professor Agasa sound asleep with his head on an open copy of the Encyclopedia of Modern Science, 2000 Edition. Ai then curtly announced that it was time for them to go, and when the Professor was politely awakened, everyone gathered at the door to see the two of them off. Agasa bid sleepy goodbyes to the ladies as the boys came downstairs to say goodnight; no matter what they said, Ai fixed them both with such a cold stare that Kaito was half tempted to stick his tongue out at her, just to see if it would get a different reaction. With little in the way of reply, the small girl led the drowsy older man out the door, and those in the house simply wondered what had upset Ai so.
Kaito didn't wonder--he knew.
Ran, Fumiyo, and Yukiko turned to head back to the living room, leaving the two males standing at the bottom of the stairs. That is, until Yukiko paused in the living room doorway to look back at them, halting their impending ascent with a authoritative proclamation. "Oh, I almost forgot! We had a lot of guests for dinner, so there's quite a few dishes piled up in the sink. I think that's an excellent way for you two to make yourselves useful."
Frozen on the stairs, Kaito and Shinichi shared a glance of dread and near-identical expressions of disgust.
"That's right," Fumiyo seconded, out of sight in the living room. "Hop to it, Kaito!"
"Shin-chan can show you where everything is--and he'll help you wash, won't you, Shin-chan?" Yukiko gave them a bright smile and disappeared as well.
Rolling their eyes and heaving weary sighs in proper adolescent form, the pair trudged into the kitchen to begin their drudgery. The stack of dishes, plates, cups, servingware, and utensils overflowed one side of the sink and onto the counter, and it didn't even include the bowls and pots of leftovers now occupying the fridge.
The two shared one last long-suffering look and rolled up their sleeves. Kaito started the hot water running and went to fetch a stool, while Shinichi went through the lower cupboards for soap, scrubbers, and the drying rack.
When the sink was full of warm soapy water and the stool was placed for Shinichi's convenience, Kaito picked up the nearest scrubbing sponge and dove in. "I'll wash, you dry," he suggested, reaching for a plate. "I've got a bit more, um, leverage than you do."
"Yeah, whatever..." Shinichi snorted and clambered up on the stool with a dishtowel in hand, taking the freshly-washed plate from Kaito and applying his efforts to it. "By the way...what were you and Haibara talking about in here? She got all huffy afterwards..."
Kaito shrugged, not looking up from his work. "I guess...for some reason I don't trust her like I trust you. She doesn't know about me, and it's making her suspicious."
"She's always suspicious," Shinichi sighed. "But whatever you said sure had her upset. I haven't seen her glare like that since..." Since I was rude to her and never apologized for it...
"I'm not just gonna come out and start telling the world who I am," Kaito informed him tersely, "just because I made an exception for you."
"That's fine," Shinichi agreed. "But I'm going to have to tell her something, or she's going to make my life miserable for a long time."
"Great. Just be sure you leave Kid out of it," Kaito grumbled, scrubbing a sticky serving dish with a bit more force than necessary. "She doesn't need to know--nobody does. You, Obasan, my mom, Jii, and Ran-san--that's already way more people than I'd ever thought would know about me. Not counting the witch..."
"You know you can trust us," Shinichi said with surprising conviction. "And Ran won't say anything either, even though she might not be comfortable with the whole Kid thing. She knows what's at stake. And...so does Haibara."
"I'm still not handing out my secret identity like free candy," Kaito retorted. "You wouldn't tell her if you were in my shoes. She just seems too...too..."
"Mercenary? Calculating? Secretive?" Shinichi half-smiled. "Yeah, she seems that way all right. But she's not, really. That's just sort of...her defense. She's really come through for us though--she's not what she seems." He gave a short chuckle at Kaito's sidelong glare. "Okay, okay! I wasn't going to tell her anything serious--honest! But since she'll want to know something...I thought I'd just tell her that someone in our family crossed the Organization a while ago, and that's why your dad got killed..." He hesitated a moment, glancing at Kaito, before he continued a bit more reservedly. "...and why we're working together now. Nothing about your night job."
Kaito took a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess that'd work. Sheesh, women are nosy no matter what size they are..."
"Does Aoko-san really pry that much?" Shinichi asked, genuinely curious. "Ran would drive me nuts sometimes--"
"Aoko doesn't pry," Kaito replied, almost sharply. "She actually tries her hardest to prove me innocent--if you can believe that. She hates Kid so much...she could never believe it's me. She defends me to Hakuba, to Akako--even to her father. She's done so much that it even gets in my way..."
"It's good to have somebody with that much faith in you," Shinichi observed with a faint smile. "She'll keep you honest."
"I don't need that in my line of work," the youth grumbled. "Baka..."
"Baka yourself," Shinichi shot back, flicking a bit of dishwater off his fingers--in a manner that just happened to direct it at his cousin. "If you didn't have her around, where would you be now?"
"It'd be much easier to finish a heist and get my job done, for one thing," Kaito retorted loftily--also taking the opportunity to serruptitiously return fire with his own damp fingers.
Mischievous, Shinichi flicked again, this time dipping a hand in the warm water to make sure Kaito was spattered.
"Hey! What're you up to, squirt?"
"Nothing--just squirting you!"
Cupping his hands in the soapy dishwater, Shinichi sent a small jet of liquid and bubbles directly at his cousin. Kaito yelped and tried to duck, but his shirtsleeve was caught in the attack. In retaliation, he scooped a hand through the foamy dishwater, getting the small boy right in the face. With an indignant squawk, Shinichi splashed his whole arm into the full sink, soaking Kaito's shirtfront.
It was just about to degenerate into a free-for-all--one that would probably include sopping wet sponges, cups of water, and the use of the kitchen sink sprayer--when an authoritative voice cut through their muffled, boyish giggles and interrupted their oncoming battle.
"You boys had better not be making a mess in there!" Yukiko called from her seat in the living room, displaying that infamous sixth sense and clairvoyant vision all mothers posess.
Freezing like children caught in the cookie jar, Shinichi and Kaito glanced over their shoulders at the empty kitchen door, mutually wondering once again how their mothers always knew. Then they looked at each other--one with a splash of water down his shirt and the other with soap bubbles on his face--and began to snicker.
Shinichi pulled off Conan's foam-smeared glasses and halfheartedly attempted to clean them so he could see; the snickers began to grow into laughter as he gave up and left the soapy glasses on the counter. Grinning mirthfully at each other, the two boys resumed their duties with ineffectual endeavors to remain serious. It was hard to hold on to wet, slippery dishes when one was laughing--and broken plates would definitely fit Yukiko's definition of a mess.
Out in the living room, Yukiko's face certainly didn't match the stern tones her voice had contained. She and Fumiyo looked to be barely holding back laughter themselves. Ran was the one who couldn't contain her mirth--giggling, she covered her mouth with both hands and tried not to let the sound carry and therefore spoil Yukiko's command. Fortunately for her, the laughter from the kitchen would have drowned her out anyway.
She felt her heart lighten as she heard the chuckles from the other room; she'd rarely heard Conan laugh like that--she knew why now, and knowing what she knew it was gladdening to hear Shinichi's laughter ringing out without reserve.
Fumiyo and Yukiko shared looks of maternal affection and resignation--boys will be boys, after all--and resumed their conversation. Ran joined in--still giggling faintly, and listening to the sounds of clanking dishes, swirling water, and industrious scrubbing. The noises were a bit more...boisterous than before.
It wasn't long before she heard the patter of feet and the slamming of cupboard doors, indicating that the dishes were being rapidly put away. There was a little more running water, shushed murmurs, and the scrape of a stool being scooted across the floor--and then the two dish-scrubbers themselves appeared in the doorway.
Ran almost burst out laughing again; Conan's glasses were absent and his hair was somewhat damp, and the front of Kaito's shirt looked as though it had been generously doused with water. "What were you two doing?" she managed to ask before mirth overtook her. The mothers also quirked their eyebrows, looking remarkably unaffected. In fact, they looked more surprised with the fact that this was the extent of the damage, both giving their sons reproachful, inquiring gazes that spoke volumes.
The somewhat bedraggled boys glanced at each other with twin looks of annoyance and chagrin. "It's his fault," said what was almost a single voice, a perfect tonal combination of soprano and tenor--accompanied by two accusing fingers.
With that, the two older women could no longer hold down their giggles. Ran was no longer alone in her laughter as the three women collapsed into a puddle of hilarity, drawing identical vexed expressions from the two half-sodden males.
"Ah..." Yukiko gasped for breath, wiping tears from her eyes as she fought to speak. "I'm sorry to cut this short...but the kids do have school in the morning, and Shin-chan needs his sleep. Ran-chan...?"
"Aw, Mom..." Shinichi grumbled.
"Yes, Obachan..." Ran replied, struggling to regain a straight face. "It's past Conan-kun's bedtime, anyway." She only managed to appear mildly apologetic at the disgusted look Shinichi cast her way.
"You have a bedtime?" Kaito snickered, eyeing his small compatriot.
"Shut up! It's Conan's, not mine." Shinichi's chin jutted defiantly. This only drew a few more snorts of amusement from the observers.
"It's a good idea for all of us," Fumiyo agreed, rising from the couch. "I'd say it's best that we all head for bed. I'm sure we've all had a long day--and we'd better go soon, Kaito, or we won't catch the last bus home."
At this, Ran popped up from her spot. "That's right--Yukiko-obachan's had a long day, and she's probably tired after traveling this weekend, and the baby too--we should let her get her sleep. Don't forget your glasses, Shinichi."
Gradually, with grumbles from the boys, they all moved in a weary herd toward the front door, fetching glasses, coats, and backpacks. Kaito smiled at his aunt and Ran, and teasingly ruffled Shinichi's hair, while his mother hugged Yukiko and the two older women said their goodbyes. With a last wave, Fumiyo headed down the walkway; with one final grin and a nod, Kaito followed his mother and the two vanished into the darkness, heading home.
The trio on the porch stood still for a while, watching them go--until Shinichi turned to look up at his mother. "Mom...will you be okay here all by yourself?"
"Of course I will!" Yukiko replied, any traces of worry disappearing from her face. "I can take care of myself--and besides, I've spent time alone here before."
The small boy's expression was still darkened by worry, but he didn't press further. Ran watched the play of emotion across his young face, feeling for him, wishing there was something she could do to help resolve this whole frightening, puzzling, painful situation. "We can come check on her every day, Shinichi," she offered softly. "It's right on our way home."
"What about you, Shin-chan?" Yukiko asked abruptly, her voice touched with concern. "Until after dinner tonight, you were so..."
Shinichi's answering smile was faint and brushed with sadness, but his eyes were bright and clear. "I'm okay now, Mom. It...still hurts, but...I'll survive." He looked up, meeting her gaze evenly. "We'll survive...until Dad comes back. And he will."
Yukiko somehow swallowed down the lump in her throat and knelt to pull her son into a snug embrace. He mumbled something embarassedly, offering token resistance mainly for Ran's benefit, but his small arms also came around her and squeezed in return. When she released him, a faintly-blushing Shinichi stepped off the porch with a quick "G'night, Mom," and waited impatiently on the walkway for Ran. Yukiko then gave Ran a kindly hug goodnight and sent her on her way with a soft whisper.
"Take care of him, Ran-chan."
The young girl's eyes glimmered in the porchlight as she glanced back, filled with silent promise. On the walkway, Shinichi skittered up to her, automatically reaching for her hand, trotting close at her side as the mismatched pair headed for the street. Just at the edge of the light, Yukiko could see Ran's hand, engulfing Shinichi's smaller one, clutch tighter and pull the boy even closer.
Yukiko stood still, arms wrapped around herself, to watch them go. Even when they were out of sight, out the gate, on their way home, she remained standing in the chill of the evening, staring into emptiness.
At last, she shook herself and turned to go inside. When the door shut behind her, she leaned heavily against it, feeling suddenly lonely. The house was cold and still; without the laughter and warmth of her family and friends it was nothing but a big empty box. She was isolated, utterly alone.
Alone, with only the precious knowledge of her unborn child to keep her company.
With tears in her eyes and a shuddering breath, Yukiko hurried to her bedroom--yet another hollow void without the presence of her husband--and shut the door fast behind her, trying to block out the loneliness and desolation of the silent, empty house.
To be continued...
AN: The mystery is coming, I promise...