Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shin'ichi sighed and tredged his way back to his house home.

He nearly felt like a failure. No, no.

He definitely felt like a failure, even though he had solved the murder, he had solved the murder on the rollercoaster, he hadn't been able to track the men in black.

He had left Ran specifically to follow them, couldn't find them, and then went back to her, apologizing.

She had taken it like she always did, but it was still there.

The barrier that refused to allow Ran to understand just how important it was to Shin'ichi for him to uncover the truth.

They were never going to work out, would they? Shin'ichi kicked at a rock that was on the sidewalk. The gap of understanding was too wide.

He turned onto his street, wondering if there was anything still edible in the fridge. He probably did, but that would require cooking, and Shin'ichi didn't want to cook right now–

Shin'ichi froze.

There was something in front of his gate.

Shin'ichi sped up, his heart starting to pound and his adrenaline starting to pump in his veins again.

A package? If it is, who dropped it off? The postal services don’t work today, and there’s no shape to the–

Clothes.

It was a bundle of clothes. That’s what Shin’ichi could discern as he got closer, it was a bundle of clothes. A bundle of clothes, a small bundle of clothes that were bone white and not insulated for the creeping cold of the evening.

Shin’ichi frowned as he approached closer, studying the bundle of clothes. Until he saw the hair poking out of the top.

Shin'ichi dropped down, checking the bundle in front of his gate, and froze when he saw that it was a child.

A child was in front of his gates, in front of his home. Why on earth someone would think this was a good idea, but he would just focus on taking care of the child. And then froze again at the look of the kid.

Moreover, the face of the child made his blood freeze.

This kid–

He looked like a carbon copy of Shin'ichi.

Shin'ichi firmly shook himself out of it, and checked the vitals, finding everything to be stable, if a little high because it was a child, and decided to pick the boy up. Shin'ichi thought the child was a boy anyways, based on the haircut alone, but one could never be too sure.

Bundling the kid away in the library, the warmest room in the house, he lit a fire and called Agasa-hakase. Agasa-hakase knew more about kids.

Hakase had taken care of Shin'ichi when his parents had left for America, before Shin'ichi got his feet under him. Hakase would know what to do.

Shin'ichi hung up his phone and scraped a hand down his face, groaning.

A younger voice mirrored his groan, and Shin'ichi whirled, finding bleary blue eyes, the exact same shade as his, staring at his.

Shin’ichi swallowed the lump in his throat. “Are you okay?”

The kid ignored him, focusing on the surroundings, before looking down at the blanket on their form. Then looked up at Shin’ichi.

The kid pushed himself up on shaky arms, staring at Shin'ichi. Either in awe or in shock or was that fear? Why would the kid be afraid of Shin’ichi of all people? The only people that needed to fear Shin’ichi were criminals when he was called to a crime scene.

Shin'ichi tilted his head and took a step forward.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

The kid's mouth moved up and down. "I'm actually here."

Shin'ichi frowned.

The boy laughed, staring at the library around him. "I actually got out."

Tears started to well up in his eyes, and Shin'ichi felt anxiety and panic jolt through him at that.

"No no no, don't cry." Shin'ichi said, waving his hands and going to grab the tissues on the desk. He thrust them at the kid, kneeling in front of the kid and dabbing at the face, but the kid was clearly uncomfortable with the proximity so he pulled away and left the tissues near him.

After he stopped crying, the kid looked at him. Tears clung to the eyelashes, and the lips wobbled, in the only way a child’s could. Shin’ichi’s heart went out the kid.

“Who are you?” Shin’ichi asked, curiosity winning out and wanting to know if he could call someone to come pick up their child.

"I'm two-hundred and twenty-one, type b." The boy said, twisting his body to sit up fully and criss-crossing his legs, the tears drying up.

221B? Like Sherlock Holmes? Shin'ichi frowned.

"I'm the two-hundred and twenty-first model, the only one to get to live to this age. Type boy." The kid muttered, reaching up and gripping the blanket tighter. It wound tight around the kid’s body, as if he was trying to hide away from the world. Shin’ichi was glad he at least had a biological sex now, instead of simply assuming, but the words didn’t make sense–

"I'm the clone of Kudo Shin'ichi."

Shin'ichi felt like this was a prank. Maybe his mother was playing a prank on him? Was this kid his little brother? A cousin?

But no.

If Kudo Yukiko had been pregnant about six years ago, Shin'ichi was eyeballing the age, then she would have still been in Japan. Shin'ichi would have seen her uterus grow and push her stomach out, would have been there for the birth.

And his parents were single children. It was one of the most bemoaned facts in the Kudo household, that Shin’ichi didn’t have any cousins that he could play with.

So, clone.

Someone cloned Shin'ichi.

Someone had gotten close enough to take DNA from him and try to create clones, to successfully clone Shin’ichi.

That thought was terrifying. Who in this world had that sort of power? Who was capable of doing that sort of thing? Who had that kind of money?

The questions whirled through Shin’ichi’s head before he forced them into a box. He had time for it later, he was sure he did. But right now, he had a clone in front of him that needed him to talk.

Shin'ichi eyed his clone.

Young. Incredibly young. "The only one to get to live to this age." What does that mean? Were there more clones? Of course there were. He's the two-hundred and twenty-first after all.

Shin'ichi walked over to the desk and pulled out a water bottle from under it, holding it out to the boy. "Here."

The clone studied the water bottle, and looked up at him. Suspicion was clear in those eyes. The same blue eyes as his.

And if they were the same– if they had the same mind–

"It's not drugged. I can show you where the others are kept, if you'd like to choose one on your own." Shin'ichi offered. "Agasa-hakase is coming over though. He'll probably look over you."

Panic flared in those blue eyes. "No! No, no one else can know about me! I can't believe They haven't broken down the door yet and killed us both!"

Shin'ichi kneeled in front of his clone on one knee. "Who?"

The clone buttoned his lip. "I can't."

"Come now." Shin'ichi grinned crookedly. He was okay with kids, but most weren't as smart as he was when he was that age. This made it tricky to calm his clone down. "I'm your template, aren't I? Don't I get to know who cloned me?"

The clone's face dropped into something close to a pout. "You'll go searching."

"I will." Shin'ichi nodded. It was a part of who he was. "But I have help you don't. That's why you came to me, isn't it?"

“I– I didn’t know where else to go.” His clone whispered. “I’ve heard about you, you and your family. Compared to you and your milestones, for so long. I don’t know why I came here.”

“You were made by my cells.” Shin’ichi shrugged. “My cells have always called this home, and home is where you feel safest.”

Blue, blue eyes searched his face, before curling up in the blanket. Looking utterly tiny and Shin'ichi wondered if this was why all the adults kept picking him up when he was a kid.

"I don't know their name." His clone muttered. "But I know the organization is large. They lurk in the shadows of society. And they were upset that they couldn't take you as a child. They were certain if they did, your father would tear the organization apart with his bare hands."

Lovely sentiment. If it were true then it would be even more lovely.

Well, Shin'ichi shouldn't be so hard on his father. His father did care. Shin'ichi was just a surprise baby, and his parents didn't know how to deal with him, or the intelligence that he showed. His parents cared. They just didn't show it in a normal way.

"Alright." Shin'ichi nodded his head. "What's your name?"

The clone looked up at him with wide eyes. "Two-hundred and twenty-one, b."

Shin'ichi blinked. Slowly.

He did not understand why people murdered. But he was starting to get an inkling.

"Would you like a name?" Shin'ichi asked softly.

"Only successes get names." The clone responded immediately. The response was ingrained in him no doubt.

"You are a success." Shin'ichi said. "You escaped them successfully, didn't you?"

The clone opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. He looked thoughtful, tilting his head.

"There are a lot of books here. A lot of authors." Shin'ichi said, hearing the door open, and recognizing the footsteps at Hakase. "Take your pick, alright?"

“Book?” His clone asked, looking around for the second time, finally recognizing the books on the shelves. His jaw dropped. “There’s so many! I’ve only seen one or two, the doctors have only let me hold one or two.”

He hopped off the couch and shuffled over to the lower shelves, eyes wide as he studied the books on the shelves, and Shin’ichi chuckled as he left the clone in the library to meet Hakase at the door.

Shin'ichi greeted his best and oldest friend, hugging him tightly.

He had put up a good front in front of his clone, but he was scared. Eager for a mystery like this, but scared.

Shin'ichi didn't know how large this organization was. He didn't know what type of funding they had. They clearly were backed and they had a lot of money, if they could create his clone. How did they get his DNA anyways? From six years ago? From more than six years ago, because his clone was the two-hundred and twenty-first clone.

The two-hundred and twenty-first clone that was a boy. Were they trying to see if they could make a girl clone out of his DNA too?

"Shin'ichi, what's going on?" Hakase asked, gentle arms reaching up and hugging him.

"I have a clone in the next room." Shin'ichi muttered. "He's- he's wary. Scared. I don't know what to do Hakase, he's like, six."

Hakase was silent as Shin'ichi spilled as much as he allowed himself too, and then shut himself up again. He couldn't let all his heart spill out, because he needed to keep some of himself behind the mask that was there. He had so many.

"Alright." Hakase muttered, pulling away from Shin'ichi, and the cold air rushed in. "Shin'ichi, you realize that these people, they could be anyone? They could come and hurt you, hurt Ran-kun."

Shin'ichi bit his lip. "I know. I know. But- he- Hakase, I can't just leave him."

"I'm not saying you do." Hakase shook his head. "But move forward with caution. These people, this organization that your clone has talked about, they are dangerous. And I am worried for you."

Shin'ichi felt fuzzy warmth in his stomach, and pressed it down. "Come. You need to make sure that he's not like, bleeding into his head or anything."

"You would have caught that already." Hakase snorted.

Shin’ichi felt a warmth flicker through him at that wonderful affirmation that someone thought he was good enough to spot things, and they walked into the library.

The clone was gone.

Shin’ichi’s eyes darted around, and he walked over to the desk, peering around it. His heart was pounding, hoping that the kid hadn’t up and left in a paranoic episode that he may have had while Shin’ichi was outside getting comfort–

The clone was sitting down on the floor, staring at a book in his hands with an enraptured look, his eyes following the words along on the pages.

Shin’ichi recognized the book easily, and chuckle slipped from his lips, enlightening his clone that he was standing at the corner of the desk. The clone looked almost sheepish, but Shin’ichi crouched.

“Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is a good author. Although those are in English, can you read it well enough?” Shin’ichi had struggled at the age of six, not that he would even admit it to anyone.

The clone looked abashed. “I can read it.” Was the sullen reply, and Shin’ichi withheld a laugh, and restrained himself from reaching out and ruffling the clone’s hair.

“I’m sure you can. But we do have Japanese-to-English dictionaries if you need it. I did when I was your age.” The last bit was said in a soft voice, a conspiratorial tone, and the clone grinned at it almost. He looked relieved.

“But, Agasa-hakase is here. Would you mind him looking over you? Just to make sure you aren’t hurt too terribly. Don’t think I didn’t notice you wincing.”

Shin’ichi watched the clone debate it in his head, thinking about the pros and cons of the prospects, and decided to sweeten the deal.

“I’ll read A Study in Scarlet to you.” Shin’ichi coaxed, and it saw how it sealed the deal in the kid’s eyes. He carefully put the book down, treating it with care. Shin’ichi approved. His clone crawled out, and surprisingly clung to Shin’ichi’s legs, hiding behind them as he squinted at Agasa-hakase.

“Hello little one.” Hakase greeted gently. “Do you mind if I check you over really quick? I’m no doctor, but I can spot some things that could be a problem later.”

The grip on Shin’ichi’s leg tightened, but he let go and wandered forward, wary of Hakase, but allowing him to touch him. Which was good. It was good that his clone was allowing himself to trust Hakase like this.

“Do you want me to find you some clothes?” Shin’ichi offered, watching the sterile clothes move stiffly as Hakase asked him to move his arm or test his reflexes.

“Do you have any in my size?” His clone asked, squinting at him with suspicious eyes.

“Mom is a packrat.” Shin’ichi said easily, because it was true. “She keeps everything, I’m sure we can find something for you.”

“I’m done here anyways, so you can go with him to look at the clothes.” Hakase said kindly. His clone immediately jumped from the couch and ran to Shin’ichi’s side, surprising him again.

But he led him up the stairs, digging through the boxes labelled “Shin’ichi’s clothes ♥” and trying to find something that wouldn’t drown the clone.

“Okay, let’s try this.” Shin’ichi said, pulling out his old uniform when Teitan Elementary required a uniform for the three weeks. “Blue is a good color on me, so let’s see how it looks on you.”

His clone took it and darted downstairs, likely wanting to get out of the stiff fabric. Shin’ichi had brushed against it only a few times, but it had made his skin crawl. If his clone was anything like him, then he also hated the fabric.

As Shin’ichi repacked, he hoped his clone had been thinking about names. Calling him in his head “His clone” or “the clone” was getting slightly weary.

Coming back downstairs, he watched his clone walk out of the bathroom with the new clothes on, his face bright. He was grinning.

Shin’ichi stared.

His clone was grinning. At simply having new clothes. His clone snapped his head to Shin’ichi, and then next thing Shin’ichi knew, his clone was hugging his leg.

Shin’ichi stared down at his clone, who was clutching his leg tightly, showing gratitude in the only way that he knew how right now.

He slowly raised his hand, and gently pat his clone’s head, stroking the hair that they shared. He gently worked the hands off of holding his leg, and Shin’ichi crouched and hugged his clone instead.

Tiny arms wormed their way around Shin’ichi’s neck, holding him tight. “Thank you.”

Shin’ichi just held him tightly, before picking up his clone. His clone squirmed for a second, his legs hooking around Shin’ichi’s waist and settling himself in the crook of Shin’ichi’s waist. His clone rested his head on Shin’ichi’s shoulder, sighing.

Shin’ichi took care walking down the stairs, not wanting to jostle his clone, and reentered the library, finding Hakase. Hakase, who openly ogled at the fact that Shin’ichi was willingly embracing someone else, someone younger than him to boot. Not even minding that it was Shin’ichi’s clone, but Shin’ichi never really did physical contact.

Shin’ichi gently set his clone down, and he immediately ran back to where A Study in Scarlet was waiting, hunkering down behind the desk again.

“So where do we go from here, Shin’ichi?” Hakase asked, sitting down on the couch. He looked older than his age, worn down and exhausted.

Shin’ichi felt a pang of regret at calling his oldest friend at such an hour, but there was really no one else that he could have called on to help with his clone.

“Well, for starters I need to look into whatever organization this is that is thriving on the outskirts of the laymen’s knowledge.” Shin’ichi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I need to figure out where to start for that first, but not the first order of business. I need paperwork. Lots of paperwork. And I don’t know who to go to for that.”

“Your parents?” Agasa-hakase offered, raising a bushy eyebrow. Shin’ichi felt a wave of shame.

“Well yeah, there’s always them. But that means calling them and expecting them to pick up.” Shin’ichi dragged a hand down his face, while Hakase nodded at that fact.

His door slammed open, and his heart rate spiked. A shuffle was heard by the desk, the chair moving back and forth. His clone was hiding under the desk now, and the warning that he gave Shin’ichi rang in his head.

Before the voice of his best friend soothed his heart rate back down to normal-ish.

“Shin’ichi! Are you here?”

“Yeah Ran, I’m in the library.” He called back. He tossed a look over, and the head of his clone was peeking around. Knowing Ran like he did, he motioned his clone to hide again as his best friend came traipsing around the corner of the door.

“You left so suddenly earlier!” The girl accused him, stomping forward. “What had you in such a tizzy? Hi Agasa-hakase.”

“I don’t have tizzies.” Shin’ichi immediately retorted. “And I had something that I needed to attend to.”

“Hello Ran-kun.”

“Oh really? What was so important for the Great Detective that he had to leave someone to walk themselves home?” Ran challenged, and Shin’ichi winced.

Okay yeah. She had a point there. He usually walked her home, but in the light of his recent realization that they were never going to work out, he couldn’t.

Thump

Shin’ichi froze.

Hakase froze.

Ran froze.

The thump came from the direction of the desk.

Where Shin’ichi’s clone was.

He had likely gotten antsy and tried to get the book again, but it was heavier than expected and it thumped against the side of the desk.

“Shin’ichi, what was that?” Ran asked.

“What was what, Ran?” Shin’ichi asked.

Ran glared at him with those sharp, violet eyes and pushed by him. She was always stronger than him in terms of physical strength.

His clone had his back to them, fiddling with something. Dad’s old glasses.

Ran placed a hand on his clone’s shoulder, and Shin’ichi nearly reached out and stopped her. His clone didn’t do well with new people touching, with anyone touching really.

His clone stiffened up, but allowed Ran to turn him. He had Dad’s old glasses on his face, and gave Ran a small smile, if a little scared one.

Ran blinked at his clone.

Before crushing him to her chest.

“Oh you’re so cuuuuuuuUUUUTTEEE!”

His clone looked utterly flustered and overwhelmed over Ran’s shoulder, giving Shin’ichi a desperate look.

Shin’ichi immediately took pity.

“Ah, Ran! He’s not good with physical affection!”

Ran immediately let go. “I’m so sorry, but you’re so cute! What’s your name?”

And this is where it all falls to shit. Shin’ichi thought hysterically. They hadn’t picked out a name for his clone yet. Hadn’t found his name. Hadn’t found a name that suited them, and without a name then this whole charade, whatever they were going to pull, was going to go to hell–

“I’m Conan!”

Shin’ichi blinked.

Okay.

Okay.

Yeah, they could work with Conan.

~~~~~~~~~~

He wasn’t expecting to be invited for dinner at the older woman’s home, because Shin’ichi didn’t have any food at his home right now.

221b, Conan, allowed himself to follow the woman, Ran, who tried talking to 22– Conan.

22– Conan, just hid closer to Shin’ichi’s leg and kept his eyes down. He couldn’t answer most of those questions that Ran was asking. He didn’t know what the hell some of those questions were, about where he went to school, how old he was, what friends he had.

“Sorry Ran, he’s really tired from the flight.” Shin’ichi explained, squeezing Clone 221b’s hand. No wait, Conan. His name, he had a name, and it was Conan now.

“Where did you fly in Conan-kun? You must have been waiting for Shin’ichi for a few hours since we were together today.” The woman frowned at Shin’ichi on that remark, and Clone 221– Conan felt concern and protective over Shin’ichi when she shot him that look.

“I didn’t know he was coming here today, Ran.” Shin’ichi huffed. 221b was quick to nod.

“Okaa-san and Otou-san thought he wouldn’t have plans today. And I wasn’t waiting for too long.”

Memories of passing out in front of the gates from being unable to keep walking or running raced through his head, and Clone 221b, Conan, pressed closer to Shin’ichi’s leg. Almost hiding in the crook of it.

He didn’t know why, but he felt safe with Shin’ichi. He felt incredibly safe with him. He had had no one to lean on for the longest time. Ever since he could remember, Clone 221b had been alone. Unable to lean on anyone and unable to allow himself to relax in the slightest.

“Conan, do you want me to carry you?” Shin’ichi asked, and Clone 221– Conan, shook his head.

“No, I’m fine.” Conan muttered, resisting the urge to grip onto the pant leg material with his other hand. He was already holding onto Shin’ichi’s hand, that should be enough, shouldn’t it?

“You said he didn’t like physical affection, but he seems rather clingy with you.” Ran said, her tone sounding playful. A nice playful, not the mean playful that the scientists would mock Clone 221b, or other clones with. It still set him on edge a little, but he was by Shin’ichi, so it was fine.

“Well, we’re here! I’ll make us some dinner and–”

A man came charging down the stairs a car pulled up.

Clone 221b gripped Shin’ichi’s pant leg and hand tight, afraid. Had They finally found them? After a scant few hours of freedom? Would they kill Shin’ichi and Ran? Right here in the streets as a warning to Clone 221b? Would they let him keep his name?

“Otou-san!” Ran shouted, pressing an arm forward and protecting Clone 22– Conan, from the flailing limbs of the man. The man that was apparently Ran’s father. Arms looped around Clone 221b’s arms and pulled him up, and he was ready to fight, kick, claw, punch and get away from the person holding him–

Shin’ichi settled him on the crook of his waist again, and Clone 221b felt a rush of blood to his cheeks. Of course, it was only Shin’ichi. Clone 221b settled on his template’s hip, hooking his arms around the neck and watching what was happening.

“Do you have a case, Oji-san?” Shin’ichi asked, settling his hands on Clone 221b to support him.

“I do! And you, you little BRAT, aren’t gonna ruin this for me!”

The man was loud. He smelled funny. His tie was askew. Clone 221b didn’t know how he thought that this man was a part of Them. He was far too unkempt for Their standards. Shin’ichi gently stroked a hand in Clone 221b’s hair, and he relaxed a little more.

“Would you like me to come along?” Shin’ichi offered, patting Clone 221b on the head. “Having two pairs eyes is better than one.”

The man glared at him, and Clone 221b wanted to bite the guy. Shin’ichi was offering to help with something, a case, and he was trying to help! He shouldn’t just glare at Shin’ichi!

The man then looked contemplative. “Megure-dono would like you to be there, because he likes you better.” The last bit was harshly, and Clone 221– Conan, wanted to hide. That tone of voice was said whenever another clone hadn’t performed to perfection. They had been taken away, and Clone 221b had never seen them again.

“Then let’s go!” Shin’ichi said, immediately darting forward, still holding Clone 221b, who held tightly to him as well. They got in the car that was still waiting, and Clone 221b absentmindedly wondered how long a car like this would wait for someone.

“Wait! Shin’ichi!” Ran yelled, following them into the car. The door closed, and the driver must have gotten impatient, because as soon as the door closed, they were speeding off into traffic. Clone 221b held onto Shin’ichi.

“Wha– Ran! Why are you coming along?” The man asked.

“I didn’t want Conan-kun to come along to a crime scene, Otou-san.” Ran said in a huff, gesturing to Clone 22– Conan.

The man looked down at him. Cl– Conan beamed up at him.

“Yay! A car ride!”

He could do this, he could play a part quite well.

“Huh? Who’s the brat?” The man squinted at Clo– Conan. Conan nearly snapped back at him, like he always nearly always did to the technicians in the labs, but he bit his tongue and stayed silent. A hand wrapped around his head, and pulled him tighter to a chest.

“This is Conan.” Shin’ichi’s voice said frostily. Almost sounding like Sherry-san talking down the other scientists. “He’s staying with me.”

That was all he said, that’s all he needed to say.

“Eh, your parents pushed another one out? What are they, rabbits?” The man muttered, leaning back in the seat. Obviously he wasn’t all that smart, because Shin’ichi had figured out Conan was a clone because his parents hadn’t had a kid for years.

“Otou-san! Don’t be rude!” Ran whisper-yelled, and right. This was Ran’s father. Clone 221b settled against Shin’ichi more, settling in for a longer ride. How such a man made such a nice woman like Ran was beyond Clone 221b.

“Conan-kun, I’m so sorry for my father. He’s Mouri Kogoro.” Ran introduced them, and Cl– Conan nodded at the man.

“Nice to meet you Oji-san.” He said softly, and then they were at whatever destination that had called Mouri to help.

Piling out, Shin’ichi looked around, frowning. “No Megure-keibu.” He whispered as he walked with Mouri and Ran to the people waiting outside. “Low walls, minimal security. Probably a kidnapping.”

Clone 221b listened to the muttering, finding it utterly fascinating. How did his template come to that conclusion? Could he teach Clone 221b? He’d really like to know how to know the things that Shin’ichi did.

Walking into the backyard, Shin’ichi set Clone 221b down on the ground, and let him walk around on his own. Clone 221b still stuck to Shin’ichi’s side, holding onto his pant leg and leaning his head against it. He let his eyes flutter close. He was honestly really exhausted.

And then he said it.

“The man dressed fully in black snatched her up and told us that if Tani-sama didn’t pay the ransom and shut down the company for three months, then Akiko-sama would be harmed.”

Clone 221b gripped tightly to Shin’ichi’s pant leg. "Dressed all in black?" Could it possibly be? No. No. They wouldn’t. This is so small scale. They wouldn’t bother with this.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Would they?

Clone 221b bit his lip, and slowly let go of Shin’ichi’s leg. Shin’ichi looked down at him, but Clone 221b gave him a bright grin.

“I’m just gonna go look at the dogs!” He lowered his voice. “These look a lot nicer than the ones I’ve interacted with in the past.”

Shin’ichi’s eyes softened and he let Clone 221b leave his side.

Clone 221b immediately made for a dog that was moping. He had barely heard it, but the dogs hadn’t made a sound when the guy had come to snatch Akiko-sama. So then they were drugged, right? Or they had known the guy for at least a little bit and didn’t know he would hurt her. Dogs were so sweet after all, very loyal. They didn’t know that sometimes the people they were helping were actually hurting people.

Clone 221b slid up to the dog that was moping, gently holding a hand out like he had seen some of the older people do, and the dog “boofed” at him, before sniffing his hand and licking it. It felt weird, but he simply shook his head and smiled at the feeling.

“Hey there,” Clone 221b checked the tag on the collar, “Jumbo?”

The dog immediately turned away. Clone 221b frowned, before spotting a ball. He picked it up, seeing Jumbo perk up a little at it. This was one thing that Clone 221b was really good at. Bouncing the ball from one knee to the other, the clone watched as the dog followed along with his movements. He was having fun now, and could tell the dog was interested in his movements.

“Sir, I don’t think your daughter was taken anywhere.” Shin’ichi said calmly, interrupting Clone 221b’s movements and making him drop the ball. Jumbo didn’t seem to mind however, and licked his face.

“Your guard dog didn’t bark when your daughter was taken. As good as you claim Jumbo to be with kids, he even barked at Conan once. As I’m sure Mouri-san would say, that means it wasn’t a stranger who took Akiko-san, but instead someone in your household.”

The man in charge rounded on his people gathered there, but Clone 221b just stared at Shin’ichi.

He had gotten all that? From Jumbo barking at him once? How amazing was his template? How could Those People want him to grow beyond Shin’ichi?

“No! I swear, I did place Akiko-sama in a safe place!” The nicely dressed man was saying, waving his arms around. “But then someone came and took her! I promise I am not making this part up!”

He sounded rather genuine, and Clone 221b looked at Jumbo, who perked right up at the tone in the man’s voice.

“Okay boy.” Clone 221b said softly. “How about we find Akiko-sama together?”

The dog barked softly at him, and Clone 221b climbed on his back. Shin’ichi didn’t notice, too busy talking to the man who was defending himself.

“You got her scent? Great, let’s go!” Clone 221b cheered, and the dog took off, tearing down the road. Clone 221b clung to the collar, nearly getting thrown around on the back of the dog, but managed to hold on as the dog kept the pace. Towards some nearby warehouses, and that made sense. Why go far when you could just keep close-by and ensure that the police weren’t involved as you specified?

Jumbo stopped in front of the warehouses, panting and out of breath, and Clone 221b slid off his back, stroking his flank gently.

“Good job boy. You did a good job.” Clone 221b praised, and the dog leaned into his hand a little bit. “Now we just gotta find Akiko-sama, and bring her home. Think you’re up for that, Jumbo?”

The dog huffed, and Clone 221b was very glad that the guard dog was a very intelligent dog. The dog led him to the warehouse in the middle, and Clone 221b opened the doors as Jumbo jumped through and started snarling and attacking someone. Clone 221b raced in after him, and immediately ran to the girl.

She was a little older than Clone 221b, he could tell that much. She had lived a better life than Clone 221b had, and should have known that something like this would have happened to her eventually with her dad’s money. But she was scared. She needed help. Clone 221b could help her, and he would.

He pulled her gag off, and started on the ropes around her arms and legs.

“Wh-who are you?” She whimpered, tears still falling from her eyes.

“I’m– I’m Conan.” Clone 221b muttered. He supposed that giving “Conan” was better than Clone 221b. “I’m here to help.”

A whacking sound.

A whimper from Jumbo.

The girl crying out, wailing Jumbo’s name. Clone 221b whirled, watching Jumbo run. The man with cold eyes turning to them.

Clone 221b grabbed the girl’s hand. “MOVE IT!” He yelled, yanking her along and deeper into the warehouse.

It felt like the time that he was paired with Clone 116a. They had been paired together for an obstacle course that the scientists had created, to see their reflexes and note them down. To look and see who would survive to the next morning. Clone 116a was always so slow.

But Clone 221b had refused to leave them behind, pulling and tugging them along until the very end.

Just like now, as he was tugging the kidnapped girl along. He tugged her into a room, and clapped a hand over her mouth as they hid directly behind the door. The kidnapper, thankfully, didn’t think to look there, and they snuck around the door and continued running on light feet.

Clone 221b tugged the girl to run in front of him, just as he heard the footsteps behind them. He heard the whistling noise. His head hurt and he couldn’t see for a few seconds as he groaned, trying to push himself off of his front. How did he get pushed into the wall?

Trying to focus his eyes, he saw that the kidnapper had a bat. He must have hit Clone 221b in the head with it.

“N-no.” He whispered, trying to push himself to his feet.

Clone 221b couldn’t save Clone 116a.

But Clone 221b would give his life for this girl, he had been given a second chance at life, however brief it was, the least he could do was–

“HYYYYAAAAAAHHH!”

A blur of long brown hair and blue jacket obscured his vision as Mouri Ran suddenly entered the scene, and Clone 221b stared in awe at the complete ease that she took down someone with a bat and was at least twice her physical size.

Gentle hands picked him up, and Clone 221b’s head was cushioned on a familiar shoulder.

“Conan, you’re not allowed to go anywhere without my permission again, do you understand me?” Shin’ichi whispered fiercely. “We’re getting you checked out and then we’re calling our parents and then we’re getting you enrolled, and then I’m having Hakase creating some tracking devices for you. Do you understand me Kudo Conan?”

Cl– Conan blinked sluggishly.

Conan was supposed to be a short thing. They were supposed to find him pretty shortly anyway. At least within an hour or so.

But it had been at least three hours.

Could. . . .

Could he allow himself to live as Conan?

He tightened his fist in Shin’ichi’s shirt.

Conan would be selfish. Just this once, he would be selfish.

Chapter Text

Shin'ichi woke up the next day with a horrible feeling.

Shit. Fuck. Bollocks.

He reached out and turned his alarm off, glad it was just enough into the year that his body had started to predict it and wake him before it, and stopped himself from groaning out loud.

Because Conan was right beside him. Still asleep, still resting, and Shin’ichi was so glad that he was still asleep.

He wondered if the kid was a light sleeper, unlike Shin’ichi himself, or if he was a deep sleeper, like Shin’ichi was.

Which brought him to the rest of his dilemma.

Shin'ichi was going to have to become a morning person to ensure that Conan got good food before school. When he got Conan enrolled in elementary school.

Someone carve his entrails out with a spoon. He was so glad it was still the weekend and he could try to avoid murderers by settling Conan into his (well-deserved) place at Kudo Manor.

He scrubbed at his face to try and wake himself up. He always so hard to wake up in the morning, it was hard to get his mind going. He was sometimes dizzy and sometimes nauseous and he felt a little weak sometimes.

Shin’ichi would have to watch Conan and make sure that he didn’t show the same symptoms, and try to ensure that his little brother didn’t get hooked on the same addiction.

Said addiction being coffee.

The argument could be made for the adrenaline he got on cases, but he was usually fine if he went two days without a case, but Shin’ichi could not get through a day without at least one cup of black coffee. Coffee was actually Shin’ichi’s addiction, and only Ran acknowledged this and tried to cut back his intake.

Shin’ichi carefully got out of the bed and tucked the blankets around Conan, making the boy sigh and curl up tighter, pulling the blankets to himself tighter.

Despite how exhausted Shin’ichi was in the morning, he couldn’t help but smile at the cute scene that Conan made.

Making his way to the bathroom and yawning the entire way, he managed to find the doorknob and open the door, stumbling into the bathroom and starting the water, splashing it on his face in hopes that it would wake him up.

It never did, but it at least made him feel a little better about his appearance as he cleaned up.

After brushing his teeth after washing his face, he slipped back into his room and carefully opened his chest and pulled out a change of clothes. Slipping back away to the bathroom, he nearly stumbled over the bathroom mat because of his exhaustion in the morning.

Fuuuucckkk. The transition to being a morning person was going to be horrible.

Shin’ichi wasn’t a horrible morning person. He wasn’t grumpy, he just had a hard time responding unless there was an active case going on that was pumping adrenaline in his veins.

He wasn’t feeling like trying the stairs, not with his noodle legs in the morning, and decided to sit by the bathtub and just exist for a few minutes. Not wanting to think about anything, just simply exist for a few minutes, without thinking about the world or the work outside of the safety of his home.

Conan was safe in bed. His parents were hopefully on their way to help, and Agasa-hakase was across the yard. Ran was at her home, her father was also at the Mouri Detective Agency.

He wasn’t alone in this. He wasn’t alone, he had people who he could lean on if anything happened.

Deciding that he had had enough time to himself, he pushed himself up and held onto the railing as he descended the stairs.

Before he knew it, Shin'ichi was downstairs making an easy breakfast for Conan as the coffee brewed.

He let the radio play with the morning news, and frowned when he heard that some place had been bombed, but dismissed it. If that division needed him, they’d call him.

His mind started to run away with him, and then immediately locked onto Conan and what could possibly happen in Conan’s future. What complications could happen as Conan continued to stay with him and continued to grow. Paperwork was one that jumped to Shin’ichi’s mind, but his parents could help with that when they got here.

But back to Conan.

If he really was Shin'ichi's clone, then even more complications popped up as he thought about it. It’s not that he doubted Conan was his clone. It was the fact that being his clone brought about complications. A lot of them.

Did Conan have his fingerprints? His blood type? Was he drawn to the violin? Did he have Shin'ichi's tone deafness? Was he going to be hard to wake up in the morning? Did Conan have perfect pitch like Shin’ichi did, or would he have to hone it?

And then there were the questions about Conan's health.

Cloning rarely went well for the clone. Health problems abounded. Clones of animals were more susceptible to sickness, common sicknesses were deadly, and not to mention the growth deficits on the genes. Shorter lifespans were the norm, and there were simply too many cases of the brains developing in a way that abnormal.

All ways that could affect Conan, despite already being six(?) that Shin’ichi hadn’t spotted last night. No health defects, Conan had juggled the ball quite efficiently. No mental pathways that seemed to be developed abnormally.

But Shin'ichi was drawn out of his swirling, draining, concerned mind when his front door was thrown open, and Shin'ichi grabbed a knife.

Conan's warning about the people who created him still made its round in his head, but he would not go down without a figh-

"Shin-chan! Are you home?"

Shin'ichi deflated. He kept a hold of the knife, just in case, and went to poke his head out of the doorway for the kitchen.

There his parents were, small luggage in their wake. Eyes flooded with worry and worry carrying their shoulders. They must have been nearby, to have been able to grab a plane to come home so quickly. Perhaps they had been hiding in the Philippines?

Shin'ichi didn't remember much about the phone call he had placed last night, it was all a blur to him really. He had been exhausted after letting the EMTs looking over Conan and waving away concerns about who he was to Shin’ichi and how Shin’ichi should take care of him. Shin’ichi knew how to take care of children, thank you very much. But he did remember pleading with his parents to come home because he needed their help.

An incredibly rare thing, especially with the Kudo pride they all had.

And despite his mixed feelings with his parents, he was always so glad to see them.

"Kaa-san. Tou-san." Shin'ichi greeted, stepping out of the doorway. He didn’t let go of the knife just yet. He wanted to, but his paranoia told him to keep it on him. Maybe he could have Hakase create some gadgets or something for him to hold onto while he’s on cases so he won’t be so paranoid on the job now? It would be worth asking.

Kaa-san's eyes teared up and oh no. Shin'ichi knew that set of her pounce, she was gonna–

"SHIN-CHAN!" She wailed, leaping forward and sweeping him up in a hug.

"Please keep your voice down!" Shin'ichi hissed. "Conan is still asleep, and I want him to get all the rest he can!”

Blessedly, as he listened, Conan didn’t wake up.

So hopefully, he was a heavy sleeper like Shin’ichi. Which would suck, because then it fell to Shin’ichi to wake the two of them for school and stuff, but what could he do? He was the older brother now, and he needed to ensure that his younger brother could sleep as much as possible.

Especially after his life that he lived before.

"Conan?" Tou-san asked, reaching forward and passing a hand over Shin'ichi's head. "Does this Conan have anything to do with you using the emergency number?"

The emergency number was the only sure-fire way to get in contact with his parents. Their other phones would be turned off, but not that phone. It was one of the only rules fourteen-year-old Shin'ichi had placed when they had talked about leaving to travel, and Tou-san had agreed. Megure-keibu also had access to the emergency number, should Shin'ichi ever need emergency surgery.

"Yeah. It's– A lot." Shin'ichi groaned. His father had probably already seen a lot at the doorway, deduced a lot. More than Shin'ichi could with a single glance. But this wasn't his story to tell, so they could just have breakfast in the meantime.

Ushering them to the kitchen, Shin'ichi threw out the burnt eggs and started a fresher, larger batch. He refused to let his father near the stove, and his mother knew that was just a tragedy to the poor eggs that Shin’ichi was trying to make into an omelet for everyone.

Kaa-san, understanding for once in her life that Shin'ichi wasn't spilling secrets that weren’t his, started chatting about a friend who recently had a big break on the silver screen thanks to one of Tou-san's roles.

Three minutes into the story, there were thumps from the floor above, and slamming doors.

"SHIN'ICHI!?" Conan called, and his voice was incredibly worried. Incredibly distraught. Shin’ichi felt anger at himself for letting Conan feel so upset and worried, but had turned to look at his parents when the thumps upstairs had started.

Kaa-san and Tou-san had jolted in their seats, and Shin'ichi savored the face that Tou-san made. He hadn't ever seen such a look of unadulterated shock on his father’s face before, and it was all thanks to Conan's voice. Which was a copy of Shin'ichi's voice when he was Conan's age.

"In the kitchen!" Shin'ichi called, moving to the doorway of the kitchen, and Conan threw himself down the stairs, turning at the end of the stairs, and threw himself at Shin'ichi's legs. Holding on tightly.

"I- you weren't- I thought They may have-"

"It's okay Conan." Shin'ichi soothed, running a hand over his clone's head, and tossed a look back. His father had a look of understanding now. His mother looked like she wanted to hug Conan.

"Well." Tou-san said slowly, making Conan jerk away from Shin'ichi's legs and the look of sheer panic on his face made Shin'ichi scoop him up and secure him on his hip. Conan gripped his shirt, looking at Kaa-san and Tou-san with large eyes.

"This. . . . certainly explains why you used the emergency number." Tou-san continued, his eyes boring into Conan. They were the slightest shade away from Shin'ichi and Conan's eye color. Shin'ichi had inherited his mother's blue eyes, as well as her finer features.

"Shin-chan, who is this?"

Oh that's not good, Kaa-san looked three seconds away from snatching Conan out of his hands.

"This is Conan. Also known as Clone two-two-one b." Shin'ichi decided to rip the bandage off in one fell swoop. “He’s my clone, and also the reason that I called you both last night.”

Tou-san's eyes flashed.

Shin'ichi repressed a shiver. That look wasn't directed at him, he had to remind himself that no matter how scary his dad looked.

His mother's eyes widened, before a gentle, sweet smile fell on her face. It looked completely natural, it matched her eyes and she looked so soft and kind in that moment.

His mother wasn't one of the world's highly sought after actresses for nothing after all.

"Conan-kun?" She asked, stepping forward and stooping slight, making herself just slightly below Conan's line of sight, and the kid relaxed slightly at that. "What a nice name! Did you choose it?"

Conan nodded. "Shin'ichi promised to read me A Study in Scarlet when Ran came and asked for my name. And Shin'ichi said that I was a success, and successes deserve names, so I thought I could choose. . . ."

The boy looked utterly flustered with recounting how he chose his name, and Shin'ichi snickered slightly. "Ran kinda came here without asking and startled him before we could choose something more traditional, but I think it suits him."

"It does!" Kaa-san clapped her hands, and it didn't escape Shin'ichi's notice that his dad was on his silver phone. Blue was for family, red the emergency line of connection, gold was for his writing work, and silver was the one he used calling in favors.

Shin'ichi didn't envy the poor souls who owed his dad favors.

Especially since it was like, Shin’ichi checked the clock on the wall, nine in the morning. In Japan. No telling what calls his father was placing and what time zones those people were in. Oh the poor souls that had to answer the phone or face his father’s wrath.

His eyes wandered. . . . .

They widened and Shin’ichi immediately pushed Conan into his mother’s arms. Before running towards the stovetop and salvaging the egg omelet that he had been creating on it from burning beyond eating. He sighed softly, and turned back to look at Conan and apologize to him for pushing him into a stranger’s arms.

The sight made him pause.

Conan’s head was on Kaa-san’s shoulder, much like he rested on Shin’ichi’s. Kaa-san was swaying her body back and forth, humming softly under her breath and running a hand through Conan’s hair. Conan looked droopy again, eyes close to closing and nodding off to sleep again.

Tou-san’s eyes were also on Conan and Kaa-san. He was still talking softly in his silver phone, but his face was softer. It didn’t make the light in his eyes softer, if anything it made the light harder and more determined.

Shin’ichi clapped his hand to get their attention. “So? Breakfast?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Conan didn’t know how to react when Shin’ichi had pressed him into the lady’s arms and raced behind her.

The woman had stared at him for a few seconds, and he had stared at her.

We have the same eyes. Conan realized, blinking his own eyes at her, and her smile that had disappeared, reappeared. She shifted her hold, holding somewhat like Shin’ichi did, and gently stroked a hand through his hair. He felt himself relax, and placed his head on her shoulder.

A soft, gentle noise left her mouth as she rocked their bodies, almost singing, but not quite.

It felt safe here.

His eyes were starting to droop, and he felt sleepy again.

A clap grabbed his attention, and he pushed himself up to look at Shin’ichi, who had clapped.

“So? Breakfast?”

Shin’ichi was concerned. He was on edge, but he was relaxing. Conan was good at reading people like that, he was pretty intelligent. The scientists always told him so.

“Breakfast sounds good.” The man said, finally putting the silver phone away. He stood up, and walked over to the woman, who was Shin’ichi’s mother now that he was thinking, and this must be Shin’ichi’s father.

“You’re Conan, right?” The man asked, a soft smile on his face as he looked at Conan through the glasses.

Conan studied the man.

Those people had wanted him to become something greater than Shin’ichi. They wanted him to become greater than this man too, if he had ever reached that goal. Conan would bet on that.

Conan wasn’t sure he could ever be on the same level of this man, because the sheer intelligence and intensity in those blue eyes was going to drown him with the knowledge they held.

“Y-yeah. I’m Conan. I’m sure you heard before and remember.” Conan muttered, turning to watch Shin’ichi plating food. Conan squinted at it. What was it? Why was it yellow? Was it edible?

“I did.” Kudo Yuusaku nodded. “I’m Kudo Yuusaku, and the lady holding you is Kudo Yukiko.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Co-chan!” Kudo Yukiko cheered, bouncing him slightly in her grasp, and Conan looked over to Shin’ichi, who had finished plating whatever had cooked.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Shin’ichi snapped, hands on his hips as he studied the three of them. “Put Conan down, he’s gonna get overstimulated from you guys.”

Conan squirmed in Kudo Yukiko’s grip, and she seemed to understand that he wanted down, and placed him down on his feet. He darted over to Shin’ichi, peering up at the table and studying the chairs that also came with the table. They were higher than the ones that he was used to using, but it was the lack of use on three chairs that had grabbed Conan’s attention.

Only one chair had signs of use.

These people were Shin’ichi’s parents, weren’t they? Why didn’t three chairs have signs of use on them, instead of just the one?

And Shin’ichi didn’t make another bed last night for Conan, although that could be attributed to how tired everyone was. But could it be that Shin’ichi didn’t have time to make a bed? Because he didn’t have time to make a bed, one wasn’t already made?

Conan held this thought close as he was guided to a chair, right next to the one that had the wear and tear on it. Conan felt a little smug at that, before he climbed into the chair and looked at the plate in front of him. What was the yellow thing in front of him? Was it really edible? Could he eat anything that wasn’t in the eating schedu–

Oh.

Oh wait.

Oh, Conan could eat whatever he wanted to now.

Conan could eat whatever he wanted to now!

Forks were distributed, and the Kudo family clapped their hands together as a group and said “Itadakimasu.”

Conan frowned at this, confused.

He had known that They wanted him to blend in with society if he ever met their expectations, but how was he ever supposed to blend in if he never knew the norms? He clapped his own hands and whispered his own “Itadakimasu,” before picking up the fork and watching Shin’ichi eat the yellow thing in front of him on his plate.

He shouldn’t be so harsh on Their teaching anyways. They probably were going to teach him more manners later, when he had passed more tests and proved himself worthy of going to the next stage. He just hadn’t reached that point yet, and so he had been stuck with eating his food as quickly as possible because the scientists may take it away.

But Conan returned to watching Shin’ichi. Watching how he ate what was in front of him.

Shin’ichi cut off a piece with the side of his fork, taking his time, and picked up the smaller piece of the yellow thing with the prongs of his fork. Conan decided to follow, the yellow thing falling apart rather easily under the side of his fork, and stuck rather easily to the prongs of his fork.

He was kind of apprehensive to eating something that he didn’t know what it was made of, but Shin’ichi had made it. That meant it was safe, right? And Kudo Yuusaku and Kudo Yukiko were eating it too, chatting around the table in between swallows. So there was no way that only Conan’s portion was poisoned.

Conan put the yellow thing in his mouth.

He felt his eyes popping.

Whatever this was–

It tasted so good!

Nothing like that sludge that They gave the clones and passed off as food! It tasted amazing, and Conan made sure to chew thoroughly to get all the flavor that he could possibly get from every single bite.

Shin’ichi laughed softly, but was quick to draw Conan into talking as well as eating, and since everyone else was swallowing before talking, Conan started to do that too.

Kudo Yuusaku seemed to want to talk about the people who had brought Conan into existence, and Conan was hesitant to talk about them. Mostly because of how some of the scientists would talk about Kudo Yuusaku.

“He’s a man who knows how to hunt Crows.” They would whisper when they thought every clone was asleep. “We are quite lucky that he doesn’t know about this, about us. Or else there would be hell to pay.”

Conan often pretended to be asleep so he could gain information. The scientists always spoke more when they thought the clones couldn’t hear. They weren’t stupid, they knew the clones were intelligent, otherwise they wouldn’t be testing them so much to see who would be the perfect clone. So they always spoke when the clones were asleep, when Clone 221b, Conan, pretended to be asleep.

And it wasn’t that Conan didn’t want to tell Kudo Yuusaku about it. About Them. He did want to tell him, he wanted to tell Kudo Yuusaku a lot of things. A man who could hunt Crows, this was the type of man that could keep the Crows at bay for his son. Could keep Shin’ichi and Kudo Yukiko safe from the Crows.

Conan wouldn’t be opposed to telling Kudo Yuusaku what he knew about Them.

But he doesn’t know what all he knows about Them either. How could he make sure that what he was telling was actually good intel, and not something that had been normal, everyday things in Conan’s life?

And he wasn’t sure that he should talk about it here. At the table? Was that rude? But Kudo Yukiko was talking about her job with Shin’ichi, and hunting Crows could be Kudo Yuusaku’s job, if he wanted it to be.

Kudo Yuusaku seemed to understand that he didn’t want to talk about it now, even if Conan didn’t say anything out loud, and instead asked about A Study in Scarlet, and if Conan had read it in its original language.

Conan lit up. “I read it in English! I was taught English, I speak better than I read though.”

“Oh really?” Kudo Yuusaku asked, leaning forward a little, and Conan had to remind himself that he wasn’t going to hurt Conan for responding. Conan was answering the question that the man asked, he wasn’t in trouble.

“And just how often do you test your English?” Kudo Yuusaku asked, his eyes brighter than before. Like he was interested in what Conan had to say, instead of the scientists testing Conan on the spot to see if he would run the course or not.

“At least every day?” Conan tried to remember. “I think. Maybe twice a day. One-one-six-a was better at English, but I was better at running and was just behind them on English tests.”

Shin’ichi was quiet.

Conan turned to look at him. Shin’ichi looked contemplative, his brows drawing in to the middle.

“Conan, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He said, standing up and his chair screeching slightly against the floor. “But you said that you were clone two-hundred and twenty-one, type boy.”

“Yeah.” Conan didn’t understand where Shin’ichi was going with this.

“Has there been,” Shin’ichi seemed to hesitate to ask Conan, taking his empty plate to the counter, and there was metal rimming around that part of the sink. Was that the sink? It looked a lot different than the ones the scientists made the clones use. The ones the clones used were always plastic, because one of the clones could hurt themselves on the metal probably. “Has there been, other? Types of clones?”

“One-hundred and sixteen wasn’t anything.” Conan reported after eating the last bit of yellow stuff on his plate and swallowing it.

“What was one-hundred and sixteen?” Kudo Yuusaku asked, leaning against the table.

"Clone one-one-six-a wasn't a girl. They weren't a boy either." Conan pursed his lips. Trying to remember the scientist's words exactly. "The A series was the first series because the scientists couldn't get the right combination. One-one-six-a didn't have any genitals, so they were part of the A series."

Shin'ichi nodded thoughtfully as he came back towards Conan. "A for Alpha series, b for Beta series. Shouldn’t be surprised if there’s a gamma series running around too, in one of their facilities."

"So no girl Shin-chan's running around?" Kudo Yukiko sighed, looking upset at that for some reason.

Conan shook his head. "Not that I saw?" He offered, but Kudo Yukiko still deflated.

Kudo Yuusaku got to his feet, cracking his back. “Well, why don’t we move to the library? And Conan-kun here can tell us about what exactly has happened.”

The smile was nice enough, and Conan really did want to tell them what happened. Tell Kudo Yuusaku especially, because Kudo Yuusaku was a man that the Crows feared.

Migrating to the library, the place with all the books from yesterday, and Conan felt the urge to run off and find the book from yesterday. A Study in Scarlet, Conan wanted to finish it. He wanted to know who the murderer was, he had an inkling, but he wanted to see if his hypothesis was right.

Kudo Yuusaku put the television that was in the corner on, setting it on a local news station, and Conan settled in a chair by the table.

Where’s Hakase? He thought, suddenly looking around. He hadn’t seen the older man the entire time he was awake, and Shin’ichi trusted him. So he should definitely trust him too, right?

Shin’ichi was grabbing a book from one of the shelves, Kudo Yukiko was making the noise as she moved around with a cloth, and seemed to fuss Shin’ichi about not cleaning? But no Hakase.

“Agasa-san is next door.” Kudo Yuusaku interrupted Conan’s thoughts. He snapped his head to the man, eager for answers. “He’ll be by later, I promise. But he likely wanted you two to sleep in. I’m surprised Shin’ichi didn’t, although I know why he didn’t.”

Shin’ichi shot Kudo Yuusaku a look, a splash of color on his cheeks as he walked towards Conan and sat beside him on the couch from last night.

And that’s when it happened.

“–ntire building seemed to have been blown up from the inside out. It seems that the structures collapsed, making the building implode on itself and finding anything in the wreckage would take weeks upon months. Not to mention the fire that engulfed the building not long after and is still engulfing the building! The building, located in Arakawa City–”

Conan shot over, his face pressing close to the television.

“Conan?” He heard Shin’ichi faintly say.

But this was more important. This was far more important.

Where where where where– where’s the address?

Finally, the address scrolled across the screen.

Conan’s legs collapsed under him, and he just stared at the screen. At the destruction on the screen.

The destruction of the facility that he had spent the first six years of his life in.

“They’re dead.” He whispered. It didn’t matter if the police kept digging. If the police put out the fire, they wouldn’t find anyone’s bodies.

They would have whatever moles that were in the police force have them and the evidence disappear.

The edges of his world greyed out and his vision tipped, the floor rushing to meet him.

He didn’t hear Shin’ichi yelling for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay Mystery Freak, spill.”

Shin'ichi grimaced when he realized that he'd been cornered by Sonoko. At least she had waited until after the last class on Monday, because Shin’ichi would not have had the patience if she cornered him beforehand.

Ran, he could misdirect with emotion. Conan was family that was supposed to stay with him, that's the story that he told Ran. Her emotions and her mind filled in the blanks for the story. Simple and easy, Ran was very emotion-driven and would forget to follow up on other things.

But Sonoko?

For all the girl was boy crazy and fashion-driven, the girl was not emotional. She was far from emotionally-driven and she was sharp. She was the heir to a multi-billion-yen corporation, she had a whipcrack fast and fact-driven mind. If she let go of some of those boy-crazy thoughts and focused on detective work, she would make criminals cry and opposing lawyers piss their pants.

Shin'ichi groaned softly, because he was a horrible liar, and Sonoko knew that.

But! He wasn't the son of Kudo Yukiko for nothing. She had tried to teach him all she knew, and so Shin’ichi would put it to the test here against one of his best friends.

He made a slight show of looking around the classroom to see that everyone had left, and leaned closer to Sonoko.

“It's exactly as I told Ran. Conan is family, he's staying with me.”

“Cut the bull, Shin'ichi. Ran said he's six, if that. Your mom hasn't been pregnant since you.”

Seriously. She would have been such a wonderful investigator. If she wasn’t the heir and just thought things through a little more, she would be so wonderful as an investigator.

But back to acting.

Shin'ichi chewed his lip lightly, reached up and scrubbed at his eye lightly, ensuring the makeup he put on there to cover up his dark bag was starting to show through.

“Yeah, until. . . .” He trailed off. “Listen. It- Mom, she.”

Pretending to struggle with words, because he was an emotionally constipated detective geek, he saw the exact moment Sonoko fell into the trap he had set for her.

“Kudo Shin'ichi, did your mother. . . .” Sonoko leaned closer, eyes darting around the room now too. A few stragglers, but they were petitioning the teacher for extra credit, not paying attention to Shin’ichi and Sonoko. Trying to ensure that her hand was covered. "Failed pregnancy?" She signed quickly in JSL, and Shin'ichi let his shoulders slump. Hiding the glee in his eyes at Sonoko falling right into the snare.

Sonoko’s mind wasn’t driven by emotion, but she could still fall to its snares as easily as Ran did.

“I don't know where Conan is from. But. . . .” He shrugged. “He's a part of the family now. That's that, in her eyes.”

Sonoko's eyes grew soft, then sweet, then to their normal hardness that was expected of the Suzuki heir. “Well then! We need to teach him something more than what you do!”

“Oi oi, what do you mean, something more than what I do?” Shin’ichi asked, his eyes narrowing as Sonoko dug into her backpack. “What’s wrong with what I do?”

“You trip over dead bodies every other day, you Detective Freak.” Sonoko’s hard façade cracked for a second, the worry for him interacting with the worst that society had to offer so plain to see for just a few seconds, before it was squirreled away.

She extended a–

A tube of concealer.

Sonoko was holding out a tube of concealer to him.

“You took some off.” Sonoko muttered, her tone gruff, but not unkind. Her eyes away from his form, not letting herself see Shin’ichi in such a state.

Shin’ichi took the concealer. “Thanks.” He muttered, hiding it in his hand. “I’ll give it back after I go to the restroom.”

“You’d better.” Sonoko scoffed, tossing her backpack onto her shoulders as they walked out the door. “Since Ran has Karate Club today, it’s up to me to ensure that your newest addition to the family will be the most well-adjusted of you all.”

Shin’ichi didn’t withhold a snort at that. He couldn’t even if he tried.

Shin’ichi, Sonoko, and Ran were not well-adjusted teens. Shin’ichi tripped over bodies, Ran was stuck on the ideal of the past relationship of her parents, and Sonoko? Well, Sonoko was the heir to a multi-billion-yen business. She was arguably the worst adjusted out of the three of them.

The weight of expectations was nonphysical, but it was often felt the most.

He ducked in the bathroom and started applying the concealer and blending it the best that he could without anything on hand, not to mention it was just a hair lighter than his normal shade, but no one would really notice. Not unless they were looking. Putting the concealer’s lid back on, he came out of the bathroom and gave Sonoko her makeup back, passing her scrutinizing eyes with a nod.

“I’m surprised you let the brat go to school. Didn’t you just get him?” Sonoko asked as they walked to Teitan elementary.

“Trust me, if it was up to me, he’d be at home, or with Hakase.” Shin’ichi huffed, the memory of yesterday and Conan collapsing in front of the tv. But his Tou-san had the papers for ready by nightfall, somehow. Shin’ichi wouldn’t question how he did it yet. Yet. “Conan insisted on going today. And my parents are already off, back to,” He waved a hand, “somewhere.”

Sonoko’s lips thinned, and she opened her mouth to say something–

“Shin’ichi!”

Shin’ichi looked up, and saw Conan running across the yard of the elementary school, not even bothering to listen to the teacher who was trying to call after him. He almost felt sorry for the teacher, but he simply crouched down by the gates and let Conan ram into him.

He had to rock back on his heels and distribute the energy to ensure he didn’t fall over. He chuckled running a hand through Conan’s hair. “Rough first day?”

“Boring.” Conan grunted.

Shin’ichi nodded. Elementary school had been boring for him, but he had had Ran and reluctantly Sonoko at that time. They had distracted him from the boring lessons that the school had been doing.

“We can look into some toys that you can have with you during the day that you can play with. Maybe some puzzle games.” Shin’ichi pat Conan’s head, and the boy finally pulled it out of his shoulder.

He was wearing Tou-san’s glasses again. Interesting, but it could help. Hakase was busy creating some inventions for them both to use, maybe he could incorporate the glasses too?

“Holy shit.” Sonoko breathed beside him. Shin’ichi had nearly forgotten that she was there. “He’s literally a little you. What the hell?”

“Language, please Sonoko.” He sighed.

“Conan-kun!” “Conan-san!” “Conan!”

Shin’ichi looked up, seeing three children run towards him and Conan and Sonoko. A girl and two boys, and Conan groaned in his arms. Seemed like these kids had been trying to befriend Conan all day, and Conan did not want to try and make friends.

“Can we please go?” Conan whined, clearly wanting to escape the kids that were about to interact with him and Shin’ichi.

Too bad. Shin’ichi knew that socialization is important.

“Hi guys, have you been trying to make Conan your friend?” Shin’ichi asked, and Conan groaned, obviously seeing that Shin’ichi wasn’t going to move.

“Yeah! Are you Conan-kun’s Onii-chan? You look like him! I’m Yoshida Ayumi, it’s nice to meet you!” The young girl with a headband that matched her pink shirt bounced on her feet.

“Ah, we saw Conan-san sitting by himself at lunch, even after Kobayashi-sensei introduced him. So we wanted to introduce ourselves and maybe go to the park! I’m Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko, it’s very nice to meet you.” The boy who was taller than Conan and had freckles bowed when he introduced himself.

“Conan was also really good during recess today when we played soccer! I wanna learn how he did those moves.” The largest and tallest of the children said, his hair having an interesting bald spot on his left side. Tsuburaya-kun quickly elbowed him. “Oh yeah, I’m Kojima Genta.”

“It’s nice to meet you three.” Shin’ichi smiled at them. “I’m Kudo Shin’ichi, this is Suzuki Sonoko, my friend and classmate. Yes, I am Conan’s older brother.”

Conan gripped him tighter at that, but Shin’ichi had thought that he had made sure that Conan knew that he wouldn’t give the boy up? Not even if the people he was afraid of came knocking at his door.

“Yeah, it’s good to see that Kudo-chibi is actually gonna have some socialization.” Sonoko sighed, crossing her arms. Doing so, her eyes caught on her watch. “Ah, Detective Geek. Ran is probably at her home already, if you wanna head there.”

Shin’ichi nodded at her, before turning back to the three kids. “I don’t mind you three coming along, but Conan is still learning to be around kids his age. So do you think you can be a little gentle with him?”

“Yeah!” The three cheered, fists pumping in the air. Conan’s head thumped on Shin’ichi’s shoulder.

“You’re the worst.” Conan muttered, but didn’t fight the other kids coming along.

Shin’ichi laughed lightly. Maybe today he wouldn’t trip over a dead body on the way to the Mori Detective Agency? He could hope, at least.

Chapter Text

Shin'ichi held Conan's hand as they started walking to the Mouri Detective Agency. He had to hand it to the kids that were determined to befriend Conan, they were a persistent lot.

They walked alongside Conan, asking questions that he couldn't possibly answer. Shin'ichi interfered then, fielding the questions and distracting them with food or questions about shows. Kids like kid shows, right? Shin'ichi couldn't remember watching any himself, but he wasn't exactly a normal child.

He did remember Ran talking about them excessively though. He had had the thought around fourteen or so that she was using them as an escape mechanism, but she immediately pointed at the case files on the desk in the library without a word.

It wasn't a fight, but Shin'ichi still felt like he had lost.

Where was he going with this? Oh right. Kids shows. The kids—Ayumi-chan, Genta-kun, and Mitsuhiko-kun—seemed to like Kamen Yaiba a lot. Conan didn't need seem to understand the point of a kids show. Not surprising. He was brought up by a facility, so kids shows were not a priority for the child.

They hit the Mouri Detective Agency, and Shin'ichi smiled down at the children. “Will you three be able to get home safely?”

“We're very smart you know! We're totally capable of getting home safe!” Genta-kun puffed his chest out proudly.

“Thank you for worrying Kudo-san! Genta-kun and I will make sure Ayumi-chan gets home safely.” Mitsuhiko-kun grinned, a proud smile on his face. 

“Ayumi will make sure that the boys get along! We all look forward to tomorrow when we can play with Conan-kun again.” The girl of the group said oh so sweetly, an innocent smile on her face.

Shin'ichi watched them walk away, Conan still plastered into the side of his leg until the group was gone around the corner.

“Not a fan of them?” He asked, keeping in mind Sonoko’s watchful eyes, even as the young woman was ascending the stairs to see if Ran was back yet.

“They're so. . .” Conan trailed off.

“Bright? Pure? Untraumatized?” Shin'ichi offered.

Conan nodded into his leg. “It's weird.”

Shin'ichi laughed softly, and picked Conan up and settled him into his hip. “Don't worry. We’ll find out what your hobbies are in a little bit.”

“Hobbies? I don't need hobbies.” Conan grumbled, but looked around with wide eyes as they ascended the stairs.

“Everyone needs hobbies Conan.” Shin'ichi told his little brother. “Even I have a hobby.”

“What is it?” Conan squinted at him. Too cute, thinking that Shin’ichi doesn't have a hobby. Or was it mean and Conan didn't expect him to have a hobby? 

Shin'ichi would take it as the cute one.

“Soccer.” Shin'ichi said somewhat sullenly as they walked into the Mouri Detective Agency.

“Eh? But Shin'ichi, I thought that you took up soccer because of Sherlock Holmes.” Ran snarked, a grin on her face as she cleaned up some beer cans that Oyaji must've been drinking from. Said man was in front of the television and watching an idol. Oko? Okono? Something along those lines.

Shin'ichi tossed her a middle finger when he was sure that Conan wasn't looking.

Sonoko snickered, stretching, before heading to the door that they just came through.

“You're not staying, Sonoko?” Ran asked, going through the motions of making tea.

“Dad wanted me to go over some tax return forms.” Sonoko groaned. “Something I need to be able to do whenever I take over the company. It's a pain, but it's math, so it's fine.”

Shin'ichi nodded. Sonoko wasn't a deductive genius like he was, and she wasn't a master martial artist like Ran was, but the girl had a head for numbers. Usually it was used to buy clothes to spoil Ran under the guise of going shopping together, and to distract her from her plans to get her parents back together again. Sometimes it was also used to help Shin’ichi find some steals on groceries.

“Do you want me to call someone? Or for Ran to go with you?” Shin'ichi offered. It was all in show though. Sonoko used these times to finally have a moment of peace.

Sonoko sneered at him, before patting Conan on the head and waltzing out the door and down the stairs.

“Will she be alright?” Conan asked, twisting to see Sonoko through the windows. He started to twist some more, so Shin'ichi set him on his feet again.

“Sonoko can take care of herself, don't worry.” Ran chirped like a bird as the tea continued to brew and Oyaji continued to smoke and watch the idol show. “She may not be strong like me, but she's a very capable person!”

Shin'ichi remembered when Sonoko was on the soccer team and shivered. People thought he had a wicked kick? No, no no no. Sonoko was truly the wicked one, and Shin'ichi would just try to beat her team as quickly as possible if they were playing against each other.

And if it wasn't her kick, well. . . .

Pepper spray was a gray area with the law, especially the usage of it, but the Suzuki Corporation had more than enough money to bail Sonoko out if she decided to use it. If she needed to use it.

A few minutes passed while Shin'ichi started filing the cases that Oyaji had gotten since he had taken the glory for the kidnapping case of Akiko-sama, but Shin'ichi didn't really care about that.

If these people were watching him, he couldn't change his patterns. But with his friend's dad suddenly getting a rise of fame, how could he not help Mouri-tantei out? It was very important after all, especially dealing with the paparazzi.

It was just out of the good of Shin'ichi's heart that he was doing this. He totally wasn't trying to find any seedier cases that no one would ask a teen detective to do. Nope, not at all.

He wouldn't dare try to seek out these people who made his brother. Not on his own, not through his own volition. There were people watching him apparently, and he couldn't take the risk that they would note something different.

Y'know.

Other than the Conan-shaped kid who was now plastered at his side nearly twenty-four hours, seven days a week.

That. . . .

That would certainly draw eyes from this organization. Shin'ichi needed to ask more about the people that Conan had interacted with, the people he had known beyond one-one-six-a and the scientists.

More shifting of the papers, and Shin'ichi had found nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He wanted information, he wanted details, he wanted to know who he was dealing with so he didn't have to skirt around any new person and let Conan jump at every person dressed in black.

He needed clay to mould into bricks! He needed facts to twist his theories to, and yet–

Nothing.

“Did the papers offend you, Shin’ichi?” Ran teased.

He blew out a breath of hot air and shook his head, lifting it to look at Conan, who was enthralled by the bright lights of the idol show.

“Ran, do you know any good kids shows? Ones that don't show like. . .” Shin'ichi trailed off.

That don't show the horror that is my life. That aren't centered around mysteries.

Ran gave him a commiserating smile. “Sorry Shin'ichi.”

“It's not your fault.” Shin'ichi immediately rebutted, scraping a hand down his face. “I should have looked into it while Kaa-san and Tou-san were home yesterday and distracting Conan, but I didn't.”

“Conan-kun mentioned making some acquaintances today.” Ran said. “Why not go off their recommendation?”

“Tomorrow.” Shin'ichi sighed. “I'll have Conan talk to them more tomorrow.”

Ran nodded. “That sounds like a good plan Shin'ichi.”

It was the only plan he had.

A knock to the door of the Mouri Detective Agency, and Shin'ichi frowned. Most people wouldn't come to Oyaji. There was no reason to, unless it was a seedier case that Shin’ichi managed to not stumble on. After all, all trouble in Beika managed to somehow gravitate in Shin’ichi's general direction, one way or another.

So who would come to Mouri-tantei?

The door opened, and Ran went to go get the tea that she had brewed. The woman had a hat pulled low over her head, and the man was rather plain looking, but looked nervous regardless. He was sweating bullets.

Conan popped his head over the top of the couch and gasped. A little hand immediately snapped out, pointing at the woman and interrupting Oyaji, who had been in the middle of saying that he wasn't taking cases.

“OKINO YOKO!”

Conan’s voice was loud, in the way that only a child's could be when they were presented with something they enjoyed.

Ah right. That was the name of the idol that was on the television. Speaking of, should Shin'ichi dust off the television in his, their, house now? Shin'ichi didn't watch television except for the one in the library, to keep up with news and see what murders had been committed. But with Conan around now, should he dust off the one in the living room and make it workable again?

Hmm, he should set some hard television times. Shin'ichi had never been interested in television or kids shows, but those were always offered to him. Conan was still so new to the world, his freedom so fresh. He should be careful about what his brother watched. Especially idols. The industry wasn't the best.

Tuning back into the conversation at hand, he watched the man with Okino-san try to shush Conan and Oyaji, and Oyaji raced off to get ready while Ran served the two some tea. 

Conan was right in front of the idol, staring up at her with bright eyes. 

“You're pretty.” He said, and the straightforward honesty seemed to fluster Okino-san, as she blushed and put a hand on her cheek.

“A-ah. Thank you kid.” She said bashfully, while the man, must be her manager, glared, and Shin'ichi decided to sweep into the conversation now.

Stepping forward, he scooped his little brother up from under the armpits and settled him on his hip.

“Sorry about Conan. He's been living with my parents in America, so he's still learning some manners.” Shin'ichi quickly bowed his head to the two as Oyaji came back.

“No, it's quite alright. He's adorable.” Okino-san was sweet. She seemed charmed by Conan already.

Interesting.

He sat down behind the desk that Oyaji had with Conan in his lap and listened to the case. It made sense that they were coming to such a low-key detective agency, especially with Okino-san’s quickly rising fame. 

A stalker? Some people. Shin’ichi blew some hair out of his eyes with a huff. Then again, some people clone others, so stalkers are technically more “normal.”

“Well then! Why don't we travel there and see your apartment with our own eyes!” Oyaji quickly exclaimed.

Shin'ichi would usually agree with this strategy, with seeing something “normal” and then finding what was not normal in a place, but he couldn't help but think that Oyaji had an ulterior motive for going to Okino-san’s apartment this time. A tug to his sleeve made him look down at Conan.

“Can we go along?”

Shin'ichi tossed the idea around in his head. If he wanted Oyaji to continue the streak of solving cases and gaining fame, and in turn getting the cases that no one would give Shin’ichi since he was a teen, then he needed to go with the man.

But bringing Conan along?

Shin'ichi brought a hand up to cup his chin as he thought.

It should be fine.

If they caught the stalker in the act, then Oyaji was there, and so was Shin’ichi. And Ran, although she would probably hang back to protect Conan. And surely the manager (Shin'ichi had to get his name) had some form of training too. It should be fine to bring Conan along. What's the worst that could happen?

Shin'ichi turned his face up and smiled winningly at the two on the couch. 

“Yes, may we come along? My brother is still so new to Tokyo, so seeing new places would do him some good.”

The manager visibly hesitated, but it seemed Okino-san was already won over by Conan, and immediately agreed. Oyaji started grumbling because Shin'ichi and the brat were coming along, which meant that Ran was coming along. Which meant that they were taking a cab.

Once they were outside the cab and waiting to be paged into the inconspicuous apartment building, Conan once again pressed into Shin’ichi's leg. Shy again.

His little brother seemed to hate large open spaces. Shin'ichi would think that he would prefer them because of the rooms that he had undoubtedly been confined to, but maybe being in a new environment made Conan uneasy? Something Shin’ichi would keep an eye on. Maybe exposure therapy would help with it.

Walking up the stairs, Conan started to flag, taking deeper breaths and his face was filled with determination.

“Conan? Do you want me to carry you?” Shin'ichi asked softly, making his little brother glare up at him, although it had no real heat.

“No! I can do it on my own.” The little boy was determined, and he wouldn't hear anything else as he started to race up the stairs faster, trailing behind the manager (Yamagishi-san, Shin'ichi finally knew his name) and Oyaji, who was asking questions about who knew about where Okino-san lived.

It was good that Oyaji was actually thinking, and not thinking about how he could impress his idol. Or maybe he was hoping to impress her by solving the stalking case immediately?

Shin'ichi snickered softly but sighed when they finally reached the floor that Okino-san lived on. She had to press a card to the card-reader, which meant that select few people would be allowed on this floor, only the people with cards. That narrowed down the suspects to the people on the floor at least. Or they were dealing with someone determined enough to learn hacking.

Shin'ichi lingered back for a second, looking over the card-reader. No, no damage to it. So not a hacker, so it was someone on this floor, or someone on security. Didn't bode well if it was someone on security, but ah well. They'd find the culprit soon enough.

“The spare key to my apartment has been missing for some time now.” Shin'ichi heard Okino-san say as he caught up to the group. 

“And you have no idea who could have it?” Oyaji asked, detective-mode in full swing.

“Well, the person who did have it. . . Gave it back.” Okino-san looked sad for a split second when she said that.

“Let's look inside and see if anything has changed recently!” Yamagishi-san immediately said, his tone boisterous and drawing attention away from Okino-san.

Interesting.

Shin'ichi would have to ask Okino-san in private what that was about.

She put the key in the lock and twisted it.

A foreboding feeling crashed over Shin'ichi as he smelled just a hint of something.

“Let me take point.” Shin'ichi immediately said as Okino-san was about to open the door. She looked back at him with wide eyes. 

“The stalker may be inside.” He explained with what he hoped was a kind smile on his face. “If they hear so many people outside, they could get irrational and try to attack. Please, let me open the door.”

Okino-san nodded, a flicker of relief flashing across her face as she backed away from the door. 

Shin'ichi stepped up, taking the door handle and twisting it.

The door opened easily.

The hint of the smell got stronger. Much, much stronger.

After all, when people die with a knife in their back, it tends to make the room smell like blood.

Ran screamed behind him, high-pitched and shrill. Okino-san immediately joined in, shocked out of her, well, shock at seeing a dead body on her home by the noise. Yamagishi-san fell back, horror on his face and choking on noise.

Shin'ichi didn't have time for such reactions.

He darted forward, fingers searching to find a pulse, just to check. If there was even a chance that he could save this man, he would try. That was his goal in life, to solve as many mysteries as he could and save as many people as he could.

But there wasn't a chance. Not for this man. He had already died.

Grimacing, Shin'ichi shook his head and looked back at the group in the doorway.

And immediately locked his gaze with Conan's.

Logically, he knew his brother was there. Of course he was, why wouldn't he be there? Conan had asked for them to come to Okino-san's apartment, so of course Conan was here.

It hit Shin’ichi emotionally that his brother was here when he saw the horror in his brother's eyes at the sight of the dead body. This, the murder, a murder scene, it was Shin'ichi's norm. It had been Shin'ichi’s norm ever since he was a kid, because his father, their father, had thought it was good to learn these things. But Shin'ichi had learned under Tou-san. This was Shin'ichi's norm.

It wasn't Conan's.

“Ran! Get Conan out of here!” He snapped, standing from his squat. Ran, who had stopped screaming but was still frozen, unfroze at the fact that there was a child at a crime scene. She scooped Conan up, hiding his face in her jacket and nodding at Shin'ichi with a grim nod.

Shin'ichi understood. Nothing more than Death’s cruel clutches could drag Conan from Ran right now. Conan would be safe with Ran, and even though they weren't able to see each other in a romantic light anymore, Ran had been his first friend. She knew what Conan meant to Shin'ichi.

He could trust Ran with Conan.

“Oyaji, call Megure-keibu.” Shin'ichi knew his voice was grim as he turned from the door to take everything in.

“This is a murder scene.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Conan stared with wide, unseeing eyes into Ran’s jacket as he clutched onto the fabric. The young woman stroked a hand through his hair, trying to calm him down. She had tried humming, but she herself wasn't calm enough for that right now, so it had petered away and she settled for physical attention to calm him.

All he could do was replay what he saw over and over in his mind again.

Shin'ichi opened the door.

Conan saw, through everyone's legs, a guy on the floor.

And then a smell hit him full-force. It was a smell he was well-acquainted with. Conan had smelled it many times when he was in the facility, during training, after training.

He smelled it the most after training. When someone hadn't done well and the scientists decided that they weren't worthy enough to stay alive.

The smell of blood was horrifying. It was nauseating.

Conan could see the blood on the knife in the man’s back. Someone had stabbed him and made him bleed out. It was a horrible way to go, at least the scientists had been efficient and used a gun in the swiftest execution style there was.

It had been all Conan could stare at, the blood on the knife sticking out of the back of the man on the floor.

And then Shin’ichi locked eyes with him. He seemed to realize something, because he ordered Ran to get him out of there. Now they were waiting in the hallway a little ways down, and Ran was rocking him back and forth and trying to make him calm down like he was a baby.

Thudding footsteps started to come up the stairs, and Conan stiffened up in Ran’s grip. People who walked with purpose were dangerous, that was one of the lessons that Conan had learned very early on.

He turned his head, peeking to see where exactly the footsteps were coming from and if he could protect Ran from the person who walked with such purpose.

A portly man with a hat and a trench coat on was let on the floor by the security. His eyes flicked around, kinda like Shin’ichi's did when he was first looking around the room, and then landed on the two of them.

“Ah, Ran-kun. And–” the man squinted at Conan, who blinked and immediately tried to look innocent. The man choked.

“Ku-kudo-kun!?”

Conan blinked some more, although this time was out of confusion. 

“Ah, Megure-san, this is your first time meeting Conan-kun, right?” Ran seemed happier now, a soft giggle managing to break free now.

“Conan?” The man got closer and squinted at him.

“Megure-keibu-san, I see you've met my little brother.” Shin'ichi greeted from the doorway of the apartment, and Conan squirmed, asking to be let down. Ran obliged, putting him on his feet, and he raced over to Shin’ichi and hid behind his legs.

Shin'ichi pat him on the head.

“Little brother? You have a little brother? Yuusaku and Yukiko had another son!?”

The Inspector seemed really upset about this fact.

“Sorry they didn't tell you.” Shin'ichi said. “I didn't even know about him until a few days before they dropped him off at the house.”

“Of course they didn't.” Megure-keibu-san sighed, before crouching on Conan’s level. 

“It's nice to meet you, Kudo Conan-kun. I'm Megure Juzo, an old family friend.”

Conan looked at the man, before nodding his head. “It's nice to meet you too.” 

Shin'ichi picked him up again, coaxing Conan to lean his head on his shoulder.

“There's a few odd things about this murder, Keibu-san.” Shin'ichi said, and that just reminded Conan all over again of what he had been distracted from.

He pressed his face to Shin’ichi's shoulder, fisting the fabric of his uniform in his hand.

Shin'ichi stroked a hand through his hair, and it was more calming than when Ran did it.

“Ah, is this. . .” The Inspector trailed off, and Conan felt Shin’ichi nodding.

“It's why I had Ran with him out here.”

“I see. What are the problems, Kudo-kun?”

And just like that, they started going over things.

“The floor was actually wet to the side of the body, Tome-san can confirm. It was wet with water. The apartment itself had an oddly high temperature, despite Okino-san preferring it on the cooler side. The fact that the deceased even got into the apartment when he had given back Okino-san her extra key–”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT!?”

The manager guy nearly exploded when Shin'ichi said that, his face sweating bullets. Shin'ichi turned to face them, Conan pulling his face out of his template’s shoulder and–

There was another woman here? When did she get here? On top of that, her hair was a similar color to Okino-san's. It was a pretty brunette, just a shade off from the dirty blonde that Okino-san’s was.

“Okino-san mentioned before I opened the door that the person that had the extra key had given it back. She was completely and utterly shocked at the sight of the body, and during the time it's taken for the police to get here, she's been trying not to cry. Obviously, she and the deceased were involved with one another, but recently split things off, and he returned the key.” Shin'ichi said in a matter-of-fact voice, and Conan stared up at him in awe.

He had gotten all that. . . . From a few words and reactions?

“No.” Okino-san whispered. “No, I didn't break things off with Akiyoshi-kun. He broke things off with me by returning the key.”

The manager started to sweat bullets.

“Did he tell you why?” Shin'ichi asked. Okino-san shook her head, tears still falling from her eyes.

“He– he died from my stalker! My stalker was here and Akiyoshi-kun–!”

“Ah, I see now.” Shin'ichi nodded. “Yamagishi-san, you told Fujie-san to break things off, but told him not to tell Okino-san why, is that correct?”

The manager, Yamagishi-san, gaped at Shin'ichi.

“It's also why you confiscated evidence from the deceased’s hand, pretending to trip.” Shin'ichi added on, and the police whirled on the man.

The man looked close to fainting.

“I- I- I-!”

“Although Ikezawa-san, I have some questions for you too.” Shin'ichi continued, turning to the new woman, who froze.

“O-oh?”

Conan wondered if he was the only one who felt the pressure of the room increase when Shin'ichi narrowed his eyes at her. 

“How did you know that the one-of-a-kind little statue was a lighter? And where the bathroom was?”

“I– this apartment layout is similar to mine?”

“Is that a question?” Shin'ichi pressed.

Conan had a prime view, being directly in Shin'ichi's arms, when Ikezawa-san swallowed and her shoulders slumped. Reaching into her clutch bag, she pulled out a key.

“My missing key!” Okino-san gasped.

Shin'ichi nodded. “It makes sense now.”

“It does!?” Megure-keibu-san looked like he was going to faint.

Conan tugged at Shin'ichi’s collar, and he looked down at Conan.

“What does it mean? What does the key mean? That Ikezawa-san likes Okino-san and was the stalker?” Conan asked. It made sense. There were two scientists that liked each other, even though they were both women. It would make sense for the other woman to like Okino-san, who was pretty and sweet and kind.

“Not quite.” Shin'ichi smiled. “You're right in that Ikezawa-san is the stalker.”

“I did no such thing!” The woman blew up, but Shin'ichi directed his gaze to the key, and she deflated into the seat.

“You were looking for a scandal on Okino-san, weren't you? And decided to break into her apartment and play little pranks and dig for dirt until you found something.” Shin'ichi was like a blizzard, chilling his suspect to the core with his voice. Conan could only watch in awe as Ikezawa-san slumped further and further into her seat, tears starting to spring into her eyes.

“I–”

“And then Fujie-san startled you today. Because you left the door open and he entered and saw you, and mistook you as Okino-san. You two look alike from behind with your hair.” Shin'ichi shrugged.

He pinned the lady with a look.

“What happened?”

“I– I was looking for dirt, like you said.” Ikezawa-san gave Shin'ichi a bad look. “And then someone grabbed me on shoulder from behind. I screamed and ran away. That's all that happened!”

Shin'ichi stroked a thumb in between the space between Conan's shoulders. He looked contemplative when Conan looked up at him.

“I see. That makes sense now.”

“Kudo-kun?” Megure-keibu-san asked.

“Fujie Akiyoshi-san wasn't murdered. He took his own life.”

Conan tugged on Shin'ichi’s collar again, frustrated.

“But he was in his front! When we opened the apartment, he was on his front!” Conan complained.

Shin'ichi smiled and nodded.

“When someone is stabbed Conan, they usually have a few minutes before they bleed out.”

Conan knew that! He wanted to know the how though!

“Fujie-san set up an elaborate scheme when he thought Okino-san truly hated him enough to scream at him and run away. He froze a knife in a block of ice, and turned the air conditioning way up. That explains the indent in the floor, and the water by the body that Tome-san found.” Shin'ichi started to explain.

“It also explains the hair that Yamagishi-san tried to hide, if Fujie-san thought that Okino-san had rejected him so horrendously. He wanted to make Okino-san pay. With her career and her life. So he grabbed some hair from her hairbrush no doubt, got on the chair, and jumped back onto the knife that was in the block of ice.”

Conan tugged on the collar again.

“Is that why the chair is standing up? Even though the room is like?” Conan waved his arms. He had noticed it earlier, but he didn't want to comment.

“Correct! Fujie-san wanted to make it seem like there was a fight, and that everything would point back to Okino-san. So truly, the people at fault here,”

Shin'ichi’s eyes grew sharp. 

“Are Yamagishi-san, who tried to obstruct justice.” 

The man gulped and withered in his chair.

“And Ikezawa-san, who broke and entered and played cruel pranks on Okino-san.”

The woman hid her face in her hands.

“Okino-san is the only one here with her hands clean.”

Conan watched in awe as the police stepped forward with the handcuffs shining.

Is this– is this what a detective is?

“Kudo-kun, I appreciate your help.” Megure-keibu-san said. “However, I better not see you in the station until Wednesday.”

“Huh?” Shin'ichi asked, eyes wide.

Megure-keibu-san’s eyes flicked down to Conan, then back up to Shin'ichi.

“Awwww, but Megure-keibu!” Shin'ichi whined teasingly, hoisting Conan up and into Megure-keibu-san’s face. “Wouldn't the guys just looooovveee to meet him?”

“Absolutely not Kudo-kun. Find a babysitter or we'll do things remotely.”

“Hai, hai. I will. I'm sure Hakase will be more than happy to spend time with Conan.” Shin'ichi returned him to the hip placement. 

“Hakase!” Conan cheered. “Can we go see Hakase? I miss him.”

Conan did miss the old man. He was a kind guy, who wanted to be friends with Conan for some reason. Conan had never had a friend before, so it was interesting. Maybe he could ask Hakase about making friends at school too.

“Sure sure, we'll see Hakase when we get home.”

Shin'ichi lifted his head from where it was bent to look at Conan to look at Megure-keibu-san, who was watching them. 

“Ah, Keibu-san. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions? On Wednesday?”

“Of course Kudo-kun. But for the moment, take your brother and go home.” Megure-keibu-san waved them away, and Shin'ichi stepped out of the apartment with Conan in his arms.

Conan kicked his legs, and he was set down on his feet again.

Mouri-san was talking with Okino-san again, and she seemed to be a lot calmer than before. She wasn't crying anymore, and Conan was really happy about that.

“Ran.” Shin'ichi called. “Let's go.”

Ran looked between her dad and Shin'ichi, before her eyes flicked down to Conan.

“Yeah. Let's go.” She said, reaching for Conan’s hand. Conan took it, and giggled when Shin'ichi and Ran started to swing him by both arms.

“What did you need to ask Megure-san for?” Ran asked Shin'ichi as they took the elevator down, which Conan was grateful for. He looked at the buttons, wondering just how many floors could be accessed by anyone.

“I'm going to ask him for a recommendation for a therapist.”

“Seriously?” Ran seemed surprised, and Conan turned away from his perusal of the buttons, but finding them still talking between themselves, he went back to the buttons. Some had symbols instead of numbers.

“Not for me.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.” Ran sighed.

“I want to do right by him.” Shin'ichi said softly. “I want to know what to do and what to avoid and what I shouldn't do.”

“You'll figure it out Shin’ichi. You always do.”

Conan nodded along with assessment, going back to Shin’ichi's leg and pressing into it.

Shin'ichi was the smartest person he knew. Shin'ichi would always figure things out.

After they got back to their home street, Shin'ichi immediately took them to Hakase’s house instead of theirs.

“Agasa-hakase! We're back!” He called, setting Conan down so he could run into the house once he got his shoes off.

“Ah Shin’ichi-kun! Conan-kun! Just in time too.”

“What do you mean?” Conan asked, hopping onto a stool and peering onto the table that had a bunch of gadgets and doo-dads all over it. The scientists at the facility would hate it.

Conan loved it.

The disorder was a wonderful, wonderful reminder that Conan was Conan now and he wouldn't be going back there.

“I have two gadgets I want you to try out, Conan-kun.” Agasa-hakase said, a bright smile under his mustache. 

Gadgets? Conan tilted his head as the inventor bustled from here and there to get everything ready.

“Here we go!”

The space in front of Conan was swept clean with a swipe of a white-covered arm, and in front of him was placed–

A watch and a bowtie.

“What are these?” Conan frowned, picking up the watch.

“Things for you to protect yourself with, Conan-kun.” The inventor said gently. “I know you're worried, so that watch has a flashlight built into the watchface, and it can fire out an anesthetic needle which can be refilled. The watch cover can flip up so you can see the crosshairs for a more accurate attack.”

The professor immediately demonstrated, taking the watch away and clicking a small button on the side that looked like the rest of the watch, and the lid flipped up, showcasing the crosshairs. Then the hakase placed it in Conan's hand.

“Another click of that button, and you'll be able to send the anesthetic needle flying! It has enough anesthesia to knock down a grown man! I call it the Stun-gun wristwatch!” The inventor boasted.

Conan stared at the wristwatch in his hand. His eyes were blurry with tears.

“Conan? What's wrong?” Shin'ichi asked, crouching beside him.

“I thought– I thought when I would face Them again, I would be defenseless.” Conan whispered. “But now. . .”

Shin'ichi ruffled his hair.

“That's not all Hakase made for you though.”

“Ah right!” Hakase stopped his little dance and picked up the bowtie, and flipped it over. Showcasing a number of dials underneath. “I took the liberty of assuming that you have your brother's ability to understand sound at a level others do not. This is,” the man paused for dramatic effect. “The voice-changing bowtie!”

“What's it used for, Hakase?” Shin'ichi asked, amusement in his own voice.

“Well obviously for Conan-kun to imitate someone else's voice!” The man looked indignant that Shin'ichi hadn't figured it out. “Most people have no problem with attacking kids verbally, but it Conan-kun decides to use this to throw off his attackers and use someone else's voice, then it's one of my best inventions yet! Don't you think, Conan-kun? CONAN-KUN!?”

Ah, they must be worried about him crying.

“I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm just really emotional.” Conan whispered, holding the wristwatch and the bowtie close. “Thank you, Hakase. I feel so much safer, knowing that you created these for me.”

Hakase's concerned face melted into one of gentleness. His hand came out and pat Conan on the head. Everyone seemed to like doing that for some reason.

“It's no problem Conan-kun. You need to be protected, and while I know Shin'ichi-kun will barely let you out of his sight on the weekends, I know he isn't omnipotent. So these will hopefully help assuage his fears as well as yours.”

It really did. Knowing he could fight back, at least a little bit, certainly helped him.

“Also Conan-kun, if you'd leave your glasses with me tonight, I could possibly have something in them upgraded by tomorrow morning!”

Conan blinked, then took off the glasses and easily handed them over.

“They were Kudo Yuusaku-san’s first. So maybe run the altercations by him before?” Conan asked almost nervously.

“Yuusaku-kun doesn't mind me doing things to his dispensable items.” Hakase dismissed, before fast walking away.

“Hey wait, have you even eate– and he's gone.” Shin'ichi sighed. “I'll make him eat later tonight, so he's not starving himself over projects again. C'mon Conan, let's go home and make some dinner. Do you have any homework?”

“Uhh, what's homework?”

“Did the teacher tell you to do any problems at home?”

“Yeah, but I finished it all in free time. It was boring and easy.” Conan said, taking his slippers off and stuffing his feet in his shoes.

“Ah, a lot like how I used to spend my time.” Shin'ichi sighed. “Did you help your new friends with their homework?”

Conan was quiet as he held his new gadgets close, feeling a guilty look settle on his face.

“I'll take that as a no.” Shin'ichi laughed. “Next time offer your services, if you finish.”

“Okay.” Conan sighed.

“While you eat dinner, I'll work on making your bed presentable and having clean sheets.” Shin'ichi said out loud as he opened the door to their home. Conan stopped in his tracks, fear crashing over his psyche.

“You– you're putting me in time out!?”

“What? No. I just- I thought you might like having your own bed. Your own room. From what you said before, you didn't have much space to yourself before.” Shin'ichi crouched in front of Conan. “Do you want to stay in my room still?”

Conan nodded frantically. “Please please please don't put me in time out, I've been good, I promise I've been good!”

“Conan, Conan calm down.” Shin'ichi gripped his shoulders. “It's not time out. I promise it's not time out. I just thought you might want your own space.”

Conan shook his head, tears sparking to life. “No.”

“Was being alone a punishment?” Shin'ichi asked softly.

Conan nodded, a sob working its way out of his throat.

“Only bad clones get timed out.” He whispered, and Shin'ichi scooped him up into a hug, holding him tight.

“You're not bad. You're okay. I've got you Conan. I've got you.”

Conan shivered and held onto the fabric of Shin'ichi's uniform.

“C'mon. Why don't we do some soccer in the backyard before we make dinner? Why don't we do that?”

Conan breathed shakily. Soccer. He could do soccer. Yeah okay.

He nodded, and they made their way to the backyard.

Through the journey of the house though, Shin'ichi didn't let go of his hand, and it grounded Conan in reality more than anything else.

Chapter Text

Running.

He was running.

Feet pressing against the ground, because he couldn't actually run. It wasn't really running, because he needed to be quiet.

He couldn't be loud.

If he was loud, he would get caught.

He couldn't get caught. It was a very bad idea to get caught, it wasn't going to end well if he got caught.

Soft wheezing beside him. He turned his head to meet identical eyes. Eyes he knew, because he saw them in reflective surfaces every day. They nodded back at him, and he nodded back at them. They continued their quiet running. They had to be quiet, they couldn't afford to be caught.

They needed to be quiet.

They needed to run.

The halls were identical. 

Almost.

Just like all of them, there was something that told them apart. The twisting turns that took them to the left or the right had little nicks on the corners. Nicks that they had been planting for weeks now. Nicks that would lead them to safety, to the outside.

They were so close.

So close.

Of course the nicks didn't actually lead them to the outside. No, that would just be stupid.

They had too much security in this location for that. It would be suicidal to even contemplate it. But then again, what they were doing was suicidal anyways. They were supposed to be asleep, not in the halls. Not looking for the nicks on the corners of the halls.

No, the nicks led them to the air conditioning room. They would crawl out through the ventilation shafts and finally, finally be free of Them.

But something happened. Something went wrong. Something happened, everyone was supposed to be asleep, or the people who were at the security cameras who were watching were actually watching, instead of being asleep like they were supposed to be.

They had ensured that they would be asleep. They had made sure they would be asleep.

It hadn't worked apparently.

Red lights suddenly lit the halls up. Blaring alarms ricocheted throughout the halls, and vibrated down the hallways and straight into his bones.

He gasped for air, trying to breathe and trying to grip at his chest.

Because they were going to die. They would die right here, right where they were supposed to find a way out. They were going to fail.

Just like all the others.

But one of them was smarter. 

Faster.

Better.

A jump, and the hand enclosed around the door handle.

“What are you–”

Gravity pulled downwards. The door was unlocked, why would it not be? No one ever came over here, no one came near it unless the air conditioning wasn't working. Why wouldn't it be unlocked? Their entire plan had been hinged on the fact that the door would be unlocked.

The door opened.

“What– we can't– they'll know–”

Hands, the exact same as his, pushed him into the air conditioning room.

One-one-six-a’s eyes gleamed purple with the flashing red lights. Blue, purple. Blue, purple. In, out. In, out. Siren blaring, quiet. Siren blaring, quiet.

“One of us is getting out of here.”

He could barely hear them over the sirens. They had always been so quiet. But they had been so smart.

It was obvious who the better one was between the two of them. 

One-one-six-a’s hands clasped on two-two-one-b’s shoulders. 

“Find the Template. Find him. Make Them pay. I know you'll survive. I know you'll find freedom.”

They slammed the door closed, and two-two-one-b hopped up and locked it, because that had been the plan.

And then it crashed down around him. The weight slammed into his shoulders. What had he just done!? What had he just done? He– they were supposed to escape together. They were supposed to get out together. They were supposed to leave this awful place together.

And he had just locked them out.

Sounds of thundering footsteps. 

Yelling, two-two-one-b couldn't make out the yells, didn't want to make out the yells. Couldn't bear to make out those yells, he wanted to hide away and plug his ears up.

Pop pop pop pop pop

Dents in the steel door. 

Two-two-one-b’s chest hurt. It was constricting, his fingertips and palms felt tingly, and so did his feet. He couldn't draw breath deeply. The haziness of the flashing red alarms made his eyes hurt. He wanted to collapse.

The scent of something seeped through the door. Under the door. Liquid started to accumulate under the door, and two-two-one-b stared down at it, his breaths coming in quiet gasps as he stared.

It was a dark liquid. 

Dark. Viscous. That was the new word of the week that someone had taught them the other day. It meant that the liquid didn't move like liquid and–

And it smelled bad. It smelled like metal liquid. It smelled wrong.

Two-two-one-b was going to throw up.

Two-two-one-b could not throw up. That would leave evidence behind. Already he was leaving evidence around by just standing here, he could not, would not throw up and give them more evidence and tell Them who was in here.

Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.

Shaking limbs, constricting chest. Shaking fingertips, tingling palms and feet.

Climbing, careful climbing. He had to be careful. 

He was shaking.

Why wouldn't he stop shaking?

He carefully unscrewed the screws that were barely holding the ventilation cover in place, the crude screwdriver that– that one-one-six-a had placed in here the other day. He only needed to unscrew two, the vent would unlatch and he could get in the ventilation shaft.

He could get to freedom.

Freedom. What a word that could be. He wondered just what freedom entailed. It was such a beautiful sounding word, and yet only the scientists or other adults were allowed to be free.

The screws fell out of the little places.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

Two-two-one-b could climb in the ventilation shaft now.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Two-two-one-b was outside now. 

How was he outside? He was supposed to be climbing through the ventilation shafts, he was supposed to finding his way through, he was supposed to be escaping–

Oh.

The grass was tickling his hands. At least two-two-one-b thought this was grass. It looked like the grass that had been shown to him in the books. It was so different than he thought it would be.

Wait no.

He could not allow himself to be distracted! 

While two-two-one-b was outside, he was not safe. He would not be safe, not unless he was dead. Or he was with the Template. The Template would know what to do. Surely he would. Two-two-one-b needed to get to the Template.

And then the Template could take care of everything. Everything would be okay once the Template was involved. Two-two-one-b just needed to get up and start moving now.

Across the yard. He was across the yard now, the grass tickling his feet. It hurts but it didn't. He had to stick to the shadows.

The hard stone walkway hurt his feet. It burned his feet with every step when he continued to walk. Two-two-one-b was quite sure that he stepped on glass one point or another, but he couldn't stop moving right now.

The harsh fabric of the clothes that They had given him hurt his skin. It was rough. It hurt. It hurts him. He wanted these clothes off. They hurt him. They were strangling him.

His chest hurt. It never stopped hurting when he smelled that horrible, viscous liquid. It never stopped hurting the second that the door closed between two-two-one-b and one-one-six-a.

His fingertips still tingled.

The lights of the city were flashing. It was still flashing red from the alarms.

He was alone.

Oh no.

Two-two-one-b was alone.

Not good. Not good. No one was supposed to be alone, they weren't supposed to be alone. That wasn't good. He was being punished for being bad.

But two-two-one-b just wanted to live. He just wanted freedom. He just wanted to live.

And he was being punished.

The red flashing alarm lights kept blaring. He could still hear the alarms. They echoed in his ears, reminding him of his failure. The pop pop pop pop echoed through the alleyways as he tried to navigate them while he was leaning against the walls. 

The flashing lights of the city burned his eyes. They hurt his brain, they hurt his head. Lancing through his eyelids like they were paper each time he tried to close his eyes against the lights.

Alone.

Scared.

His chest hurt.

His head hurt.

He wanted to scream.

Two-two-one-b opened his mouth–

And he screamed.

He wailed. He shot upright and cried and he could feel tears falling down his cheeks. He screamed and he ran out of air and he flailed his arms about.

It was so dark. He couldn't see anything.

His arms were constricted by something, something soft. He fought against it. He screamed and he fought.

He kicked and wailed.

A hand brushed against him and two-two-one-b threw himself away from the hand. He didn't know who they were, didn't know what they wanted. He slammed against a wall, screaming still as he cracked his head against it.

The hand was back, there was another one. It– they were gripping his wrists, trying to pull them away from his–

He was grabbing his hair. Trying to pull it out.

Two-two-one-b screamed still. Yelling and wailing and crying. Running out of air and then pulling it back in and then yelling and screaming again and crying. The hands held onto his wrists and moved him.

His back hit a chest, and bigger people leg’s wrapped around two-two-one-b’s legs, which were trying to kick.

Two-two-one-b screamed and yelled and wailed and cried.

He thrashed around, trying to break free. His arms were crossed though, unable to truly break free. The larger hands kept a hold of his wrists, holding tight.

Finally, he ran out of air. Out of energy. Out of tears. The chest behind him was expanding and contracting in a pattern, and was vibrating. Two-two-one-b couldn't hear anything, only the blaring sirens of the alarms and the pop pop pop pop echoing around the dark room.

He slumped against the chest, his chest quivering as he tried to draw breath.

“–ay, you're okay. Come back to me Conan, you're okay. C'mon buddy, I need you to come back to me. Please don't leave me alone. Just take some deep breaths for me, please? You're okay, I promise you're okay.”

A voice was pleading with him. It was young, younger than any of the scientists two-two-one-b had known, except maybe for Sherry. But this voice was male, pleading with him and begging him to not leave him alone. Why would someone want two-two-one-b’s company?

Two-two-one-b’s eyelids fluttered, having closed them, and tried to figure out what exactly the person was saying. He coughed weakly, drawing in air and whining lightly, his head hurting now. He had no more tears to cry, but he really wanted to.

“Are you back with me Conan?”

One hand finally let go of one of two-two-one-b’s wrist, and gently ran a hand through his hair. It felt nice the fingernails scratching against his scalp and calming him down. At least a little.

“Conan?”

Who was Conan?

The hand left his hair, and there was the sound of something, two-two-one-b couldn't really describe it. But suddenly something soft was touching his face, wiping at his cheeks and his nose. He whimpered, trying to wriggle away from the offending object.

“C'mon, don't fight me here Conan.” The voice pleaded, sounding so exhausted. “You need to get cleaned up. We both do. I need to clean the bed now.” 

The arms rocked two-two-one-b back and forth. The offending object was gone at last, and the thighs that had been holding two-two-one-b’s legs down were now splayed out.

Two-two-one-b rested his head against the chest, a soft hum escaping him.

He was so exhausted.

“Okay. Yeah. C'mon.”

The hands were connected to the arms and they scooped up two-two-one-b, and the legs were apparently connected to feet somewhere, because the voice was taking him somewhere.

Two-two-one-b let out a sound of protest, trying to move to be let go.

“Nope. You need cleaned up. I need cleaned up. The bed. . . Ugh. That can be taken care of in the morning. But we need cleaned up and I'm focusing on that right now. That's all I can do.”

A light flicked on, and two-two-one-b threw his hands up, covering his eyes from the assaulting light.

“I guess I can count it good luck that we've gone at least two nights without an incident or an accident.”

The hands and arms set him down on something smooth. Two-two-one-b took his hands off his eyes, looking up.

The Template was there, kneeling by the bathtub's side. Running water was started, and the Template looked utterly exhausted.

Why was two-two-one-b with the Template? And the Template had mentioned for at least two nights? What was going on? What had he done? What had happened?

“Conan? You ready to get in the bath?”

Two-two-one-b blinked at the Template, trying to understand. The Template had dark splotches on his night pants, and now that two-two-one-b was feeling more in his body, he could feel that he himself was wet too. His pants especially. What had happened?

“Do you want to take your clothes off for the bath? Or do you want to keep them on?”

Two-two-one-b furrowed his brow. He didn't understand anything that was happening. Maybe he should start talking. But he didn't have the energy to do so. He just wanted to go back to sleep honestly. If he was with the Template, then he was safe, right?

“Hey.”

Snapping fingers under his nose made him jump awake, eyes snapping open. Two-two-one-b didn't know when he had closed them, but he had. Apparently he had actually tried to follow that thought and go to sleep.

“I know you're tired Conan. But you need to get out of those clothes and get cleaned up. I can get you new ones. But you gotta get cleaned up first.”

Two-two-one-b groaned lightly, but started pulling at his clothes weakly. Larger hands helped him out of the shirt, and two-two-one-b pushed his own night pants off.

“Okay. Into the bath with you.” 

Strong hands scooped him up and put him in the warm water. Two-two-one-b rested his head against the side of it, a groan escaping his lips.

“Yeah? Warm enough?” The Template asked, a hand running through two-two-one-b’s hair again. Two-two-one-b nodded into the touch, tempted to fall asleep again. He just wanted to sleep.

“Okay. Time to get cleaned, and then we'll go back to bed. Well, we'll go back to sleep on the sofa. I'll clean the bed up tomorrow.” The Template talked, still running a hand through two– Conan’s hair. 

Conan reluctantly peeled himself away from the Templa– Shin’ichi’s hand, and reached for the soap. A simple scrub down was easy, right? He could do that. Simple scrub downs were nothing compared to what he had been through.

“You okay if I grab you some more clothes?” Shin'ichi asked, leaning against the outside of the tub. Conan nodded, pouring the soap onto his hands and starting to scrub it across his arms. 

Shin'ichi left the room, Conan heard it faintly. Probably to go get those clothes. But Conan was just staring at his hands. Staring at the red lines that appeared when he dragged his nails across the skin. It was pretty, in a bad way. There had been no color in those rooms, except for when there was an alarm or when one-one-six-a had–

Conan swallowed.

He needed to finish scrubbing himself. He shucked off the wet boxers and scrubbed some more, before climbing out of the tub. He grabbed a towel at random and pulled it around himself, before sitting down on the bathmat.

Conan leaned his head against the outside of the tub, staring at nothing. His mind was slowing down, and he wanted nothing more than to float away and just not exist for the moment. He didn't deserve to exist.

Why should he exist when one-one-six-a didn't get to anymore? One-one-six-a had sacrificed themselves for him, and he didn't even try to save them. He should have at least tried.

He should have tried.

He didn't.

Conan shouldn't exist.

Two-two-one-b shouldn't exist.

Two-two-one-b should have died. Two-two-one-b should have been the one to sacrifice themselves that day. Not one-one-six-a.

Shin'ichi opened the door, startling two-two-on– Conan, out of his thoughts. He was carrying a pair of clothes for Conan, presumably. 

“Ready to go back to sleep? I thought about it, and we can probably steal Kaa-san and Tou-san’s bed for the night.” Shin'ichi crouched by Conan.

“Mhmm. But why? Why do we need to go to their bed?” Conan asked, reaching for the new night shirt and after some struggling, put it on.

Shin'ichi’s face did a little spasm. “Ah, mostly because the sheets in my– our bed, are soaked through with sweat. Your nightmare made you sweat a lot Conan.”

Conan nodded. Yeah, not good to sleep in that probably.

“Should get some water in you.” Shin'ichi muttered to himself, standing up again and grabbing onto the countertop momentarily. “I'll be right back, okay? Then we'll go back to sleep.”

Conan managed to get to his feet and got new boxers and sleep pants on, sitting back down. They stuck to his skin because he didn't dry off with the towel properly, but it was fine. He was just going to sleep with Shin'ichi again. 

Shin'ichi came back with a small cup of water and handed it to him, carefully in order not to spill it probably.

“Drink slowly, then we'll head to bed, okay? Back to sleep.” Shin’ichi instructed. 

Conan followed instructions, like he always did. He was a good clo– he was good at following orders. And he wasn't alone. He wasn't in timeout. He was being good, and Shin'ichi seemed to agree that he was being good too.

“Okay, up we go.” Strong hands picked him up, settling him on Shin'ichi’s hip again. Conan placed his head on Shin'ichi's shoulder like he usually did.

He was asleep before they even left the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shin'ichi rubbed his face in exhaustion as he stared down at Conan, who was sleeping soundly in Kaa-san and Tou-san’s bed now.

He had managed to untangle himself from the barnacle-like grip that Conan had on his clothes. Mostly by getting the shirt off of himself and giving it to Conan to cuddle like a teddy bear. Maybe Shin'ichi should get him some soft toys to play with. Shin'ichi wasn't interested in them as a kid, and since Conan was his clone he may not either, but it was worth a shot.

Conan deserved better than Shin'ichi had gotten.

Conan deserved a better life than what Shin'ichi had. Conan deserved to not to be looking over his little shoulders all his life, and he deserved to be a kid. He deserved to have a normal life, well. As normal as a life a Kudo could have. 

Shin'ichi scrubbed his face. He couldn't think anymore. He was so tired, but his mind was awake now. He needed to clean the mattress too. He had been able to hide the fact that Conan had wet the bed from the boy himself, but that would set in the sheets and the mattress if he didn't take care of it now.

Maybe he just shouldn't go back to sleep? It's not like he hasn't pulled an all-nighter before. It was only. . . . Shin'ichi’s eyes trailed over to the clock on his parents bed.

Two oh two in the morning. Great. Lovely. All-nighter it was then. Shin'ichi needed coffee, Shin'ichi needed caffeine. He should go make some.

Shin'ichi needed to get Conan's screams out of his ears. Fuck, the sound of them echoing hurt. 

How did one little body that was supposed to be the exact same as his have so many scars?

They were all perfect scars too. Perfect in the sense that they were perfectly cut in a line, perfectly healed up. No sign of infection, no sign of healing badly. Of course, why would they? Conan had been in an environment that would ensure that he was healed.

He shook his head, focusing on going down the stairs in the dark. The adrenaline rush from being awoken from a screaming seven-year-old right beside him that was kicking and screaming and yelling “no no no stop I don't want to” was starting to fade away, and Shin'ichi would need caffeine to continue to function through the rest of the night. 

Er, morning.

Fuck, it was only two in the morning.

Getting downstairs in the dark was a feat that Shin'ichi would, on any other day, be proud of. 

He was too exhausted and too shaky and sleep was starting to press at his mind. He couldn't be proud of himself.

Stumbling into the kitchen, Shin'ichi washed his hands in the sink before reaching for the coffee grounds. As much as he loves his little brother, he also liked his coffee being untainted. Putting two scoops of coffee grounds into the filter and filled it with water. He then hit the button and leaned against the opposite countertop, trying to just exist while he waited.

His mind whirred, trying to think.

He needed a therapist for Conan. That much was clearly obvious. However, Conan was also incredibly wary of new people. And Shin’ichi didn't know just how deep the corruption of these people that were cloning him ran. Clearly they had some pretty deep pockets, but otherwise? Shin’ichi didn't know anything.

Because all his information came through Conan. Who was stuck in a facility for seven years. Who only knew scientists and their tests. Who wouldn't know anyone who was backing said scientists and their tests.

Conan, who was so scared of anyone who wore all black.

Okay. 

Okay.

The coffee pot let out a hum to indicate that it was finished, and Shin’ichi poured himself a mug. 

“All black clothes. Just gotta look for people with all black clothes.” He sighed to himself, staring out the window. Thanks to his vision adjusting, he didn't need to turn on the light when he had first entered the kitchen. 

It was how Shin’ichi was able to see the movement through the window.

He nearly dropped his coffee mug, eyes wide as he stared at the movement. Before his sense came to him and he crouched down, coffee mug still held protectively in his hand. He could use it as a weapon.

Should he chug it first? No but wait, the coffee was hot. He could throw it and surprise his opponent and then throw the mug then kick them. But that would be wasting good coffee. Coffee that he just made.

But also, keeping Conan safe was important. He needed to prioritize Conan's safety over his coffee. And he had a whole pot too, that he had just poured this mug from. One mug dying a beautiful death to protect his little brother would be fine. 

Shin'ichi sighed silently, trying to withhold a fully-fledged groan. He didn't even get to drink any of the mug he just poured too. 

Moving around the island that he was crouched behind, Shin’ichi peered up at the window. Just enough to peek an eye out and see if someone was actually there, or he was just having a sleep-induced paranoic episode. That has happened before, when he had been up for five days straight trying to find a kidnapped girl, if only to bring her home.

Shin’ichi's eye peeked around the corner.

There were hands pressed against the window.

The way someone would if they were trying to shield their eyes and peer into a dark room.

A bolt of fear and adrenaline zinged through his body as he studied the hands. They were large, from what Shin’ichi could see, and this person was bold. They didn't have any gloves on. 

Stupid.

Didn't they know that handprints extended to the sides of the hands? Well it was just as good for Shin’ichi. He could call the police and–

His cell phone was upstairs. It was upstairs charging. And to leave the kitchen meant to go into the line of sight of the person. 

Shin'ichi grit his teeth. He was never going to leave a room without his cell phone ever again. What was he thinking!? What if Conan needed to call him for something? What if Conan’s teacher needed to call him during the day!? Shin'ichi should have already started the habit of carrying his cell phone with him everywhere. 

So much for being a genius.

Shin'ichi will have to rectify that mistake when the morning comes. Er, when the sun finally comes over the horizon line.

Conan probably won't go to school, but Shin'ichi will have to. 

Maybe Conan will like to spend some time with Agasa-hakase today?

Shin'ichi shook his head harshly. He needed to focus! He had someone outside his home, and Conan was upstairs. It wasn't a safe environment. Time to take care of the unsafe variable, and ensure Conan’s safety.

Peeking his eye around the corner again, Shin’ichi saw that the figure was seemingly looking away now. The shadow of their outline pressing against the window formed a profile of a face, and Shin'ichi could see the nose.

Now was the time then.

Shin'ichi darted, as quickly as he could without spilling the cup of hot coffee on himself, out of the kitchen, taking refuge by leaning against the wall by the door. He took shaky breaths, trying to calm his body. The fear and adrenaline would never cease to make his body shake, if only for a few minutes.

Okay. Alright then. Now that he's outside the kitchen, he had one of two choices. 

One, go upstairs and get his cell phone, ensuring Conan’s safety while doing so. 

Or two, stay down here and use the landline because he has the landline and can call the police from here, acting as Conan’s defence and shield from someone downstairs. 

He hadn't ensured the upstairs was clear though.

Option three then.

Coffee still in hand, he grabbed the landline and punched in one-one-ten, waiting with bated breath as it rang. Hopefully the shadow hasn't moved at all and was still considering the prospects of breaking in.

[“One-one-ten, how can I be of assistance?”]

“My name is Kudo Shin’ichi, I live in Tokyo in Beika ward, Beika Town, second block, House number is twenty-one.” Shin'ichi said calmly. “I believe there is someone outside who is looking to break inside my residence, and I have a younger brother upstairs. If you could get officers over here while I make sure that my brother is okay, I would appreciate it. I'm going to hang up now to check on him.”

[“Wait, Kudo-san don't hang u–”]

Shin'ichi hung up.

He had to get upstairs and check on Conan.

Sliding alongside the wall and making sure that he was staying away from windows, Shin'ichi stole his way up the stairs, peeking into his parents bedroom at last.

Conan was still asleep. No one was looking over him, knife in hand and ready to swing down on him.

Thank goodness. 

He just had to wait things out now. The police would be here soon, and he could ensure Conan’s safety more with them being here. Because who could be so idiotic to try and attack someone while with the police?

. . . . .

Well. He can't ask that. He knew at least a few criminals over the past year that he had helped arrest that would try it. Simply because they were that idiotic.

Shin'ichi waited. It was all he could do. He could only wait and breathe and hope that the police would get here soon. The coffee was cooling down, so it wouldn't be as effective a weapon anymore. Ah, what a pain.

Shin'ichi took a sip of it, simply to calm his nerves. 

Judging by the fact that he had called about two minutes ago, and they needed to disseminate the information, the patrol needed to be alerted and be put on route, and then arrive, the entire wait should, theoretically, take ten minutes at the most. Five at the minimum. Shin'ichi has already gone through two of the five minutes.

He could wait three more minu–

Knocking on the front door.

Either that was the police, or it was the burglar being rather polite for some odd reason. 

He glanced down at Conan. Either he leaves the kid up here, or he takes him with him downstairs.

He didn't want to let Conan out of his sight, but if someone in the police force was a part of the organization that had helped create Conan, Shin’ichi couldn't take chances like that. Couldn't afford to show Conan off. Megure-keibu-san was safe because he was Megure-keibu-san.

Mind made up and more knocks at the door, Shin'ichi picked Conan up and put him in the closet, blankets and all. It would be a quick fix until the police left.

He went back downstairs, still wary of the windows until he got to the door and cracked it open. He didn't peek out of it, merely called through the crack.

“Yes?”

“Kudo Shin'ichi-san? We got a call that you believed someone was trying to break in?” A female voice asked, sounding somewhat brash.

Police. It was only the police. Unless they had bugged his phones, but Hakase would have caught that when he called him earlier.

“Yeah.” Shin'ichi opened the door wider, coffee mug at the ready still. It was still decently warm. Not scalding anymore, but could still be used to stun someone. “It was around the kitchen window.”

He finally peeked out at the officers. Two female officers. Okay, good. The hand was almost certainly male.

He carefully opened the door more.

“I can show you where I saw them, if you'd like. . .”

“Miyamoto.” The woman with longer hair sighed. “This is my subordinate, Miike.”

“Miyamoto-keiji-san, Miike-keiji-san.” Shin'ichi nodded, leading them inside and to the kitchen.

“I was getting coffee and saw someone outside of the window. So I crouched down and peered around and saw them press their hands against the glass, without gloves on too. There may be some footprints in the dirt outside.” Shin'ichi explained, motioning to the window in question after he turned on the light.

“Why were you up at this hour in the first place?” Miike-keiji-san asked, wandering closer to the window.

“My little brother. He had a bad dream and er, some problems as he slept. So I couldn't go back to sleep because I had to deal with them.” Shin'ichi scratched the back of his neck, before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Ah, little siblings. Sometimes the ban of existences, but otherwise could save you from peril.” Miyamoto-keiji-san noted. “We can call someone in, but it may take a little bit to get them here. Seeing as it is nearly two thirty in the morning.”

“I could just do it myself.” Shin'ichi shrugged. “Fingerprinting and casting of footprints is easy enough.”

Miyamoto-keiji-san squinted at him.

“Who are you?”

“Kudo Shin'ichi.” Shin'ichi answered. “The person who called you here. Because there was someone outside.”

Miike-keiji-san coughed into her hand, but Shin'ichi was quite sure it was a laugh. Miyamoto-keiji-san threw her hands up.

“Fine! You wanna do things and mess stuff up until the forensic people come? Go ahead, go right ahead. But don't come crying to us when you mess it up.”

Shin'ichi nodded, hiding a smile behind his coffee mug. This should be interesting.

—

When Conan woke up the next day, he was back on the bed. Shin'ichi had made sure to move him back, having one too many memories of being moved when he was little by his mom and having no idea where he was now. 

Shin'ichi was also beside him on the bed, remembering how Conan waking up alone had gone the other day. Sure the kid had just escaped a facility that had kept him hostage for his entire life, but also apparently “time-out” was a punishment. Being alone was a punishment. 

Nothing to do about that, except slowly ease Conan into some alone time. Because Shin'ichi would need some alone time. Maybe he could grab some when Conan was with his new friends.

Conan yawned, waking up slowly. Looks like he was a deep sleeper too, so that would be something for Shin'ichi to keep an eye. But for now, he needed to get the kid up, maybe to Agasa-hakase? Did Conan need a day off after last night? Shin'ichi was going to school, but should Conan?

Maybe he should just ask the kid?

“Hey Conan?” He asked as he carried the boy downstairs, the kid's head slumped on his shoulder. The boy let out a groan, feeling like Shin’ichi did before he got addicted to adding just a little bit of sugar to his morning coffee.

“Mhmm?”

“Do you wanna go to school today? Or do you want to stay with Agasa-hakase? I have to go to school–” the thought made his head pound. He didn't want to be in a building filled with other teenagers, he adored Ran and Sonoko but sometimes they got on his nerves. That's not even mentioning the other teens that would inevitably be in his class. Or his teachers. But he had to go, had to keep up appearances. “–but that's because I have an English test today. You could probably get away with staying with Hakase for the day and relaxing. Maybe inventing with him.”

Conan perked up a little at that. 

“I'd like that.” He yawned into Shin’ichi's shoulder, before Shin’ichi set him down at his seat. “Hakase is nice. His workplace is messy.”

“Oh? That a good thing?” What should Shin'ichi make for breakfast? Toast was fine for him, but Conan needed nutrients. He was tiny, so he needed better food than what Shin'ichi had been making for himself. Maybe he should go with Ran to those cooking classes after all. . . .

“Messy is different. The scientists didn't like messy.” Conan explained plainly, voice muffled because his head was on the table. Shin'ichi could see why he would like it, but also his heart dropped.

Had Conan been vaccinated? Did he get to run around and get dirty? How sterile were the conditions of that laboratory? Clearly he had good motor control, as shown when he had been juggling that ball like Shin'ichi often did, so he was clearly exercised. But to what extent? 

He obviously didn't get to make friends in that facility, Ayumi-chan, Genta-kun, and Mitsuhiko-kun had nearly scared him with their child-appropriate intensity of “you’re-my-friend-now-and-you-get-no-say.”

Shin'ichi shook his head. 

Worry for another day. Later today. He'd ask Hakase to ask Conan today. Conan liked Hakase, so he would respond to him better. But for now, breakfast.

He should just make some rice and some miso and some fish. Better to expand the palate slowly, and find out what Conan liked in the safety of his own home, than for him to throw a fit in public over something he didn't care for. Not that Conan would throw a fit.

In fact, Shin'ichi could probably see Conan forcing anything down his throat so he wouldn't create a scene. Anything to not draw attention.

He needed to talk to Conan about being able to say “no” soon. Conan deserved to know that he had the right to say no now to things.

Every person had that right, no matter how some people tried to take that away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere, an auburn haired female slipped a pill in her mouth, determined to meet her sister on the other side.

Chapter Text

Shin’ichi was worrying his friends.

He could see it in the fact that Ran was shooting him looks out of the corner of her eye, perks of being behind her, and the way that Sonoko was trying to interrogate him in between classes. He must have done a horrible job on his makeup today.

Look, eye bags are horrible, okay? And finding the right shade that matches his undertone is stupid. You would think that Kaa-san and Shin’ichi would have the same undertones, but no. Nope. He needed to go out and find some makeup that matched him. Preferably before Sonoko pounced on him and tried to get him to spill the beans.

No beans to spill.

Well, so long as they didn’t count the person that was outside his window and trying to peek in and trying to hang around his house, only to be scared off by the police. In the early hours of the morning. Right after Conan had a fucking night terror and had peed the bed. Shin’ichi didn’t blame his brother, things like that just happened. Shin’ichi was quite sure that something like that was normal, for normal kids. You know, not counting the trauma that Conan’s mind and body was reeling from.

The facts about clones that he had been looking up on a burner phone only made him more sick and not want to eat lunch as the day dragged on. Shin’ichi just hoped that Conan was having more fun at Hakase’s house currently. More fun than an English test that Shin’ichi was supposed to be taking.

Well to be fair, he had taken the test. But the teacher, he had forgotten her name, he really needed to remember that next time, told Shin’ichi that he needed to wait for a while before bringing the test up, something about giving others a chance. He didn’t see the point in it. Everyone in the room knew that he was the one that finished the test first, so why did he have to wait for the others?

Ah, maybe he could. . . . . . .

Shin’ichi stood to his feet, bringing his test up, and then walked to the door.

“Kudo-kun!” The teacher exclaimed.

“Toilet.” Shin’ichi didn’t even bother to turn around, not even hiding his cell phone in his hand. He could use this time to call Conan and Agasa-hakase and make sure everyone was okay over there. No explosions, the houses weren’t on fire again, Conan probably knew what a fire extinguisher was, right? What all did that organization teach him anyways? Shin’ichi needed to ask him, but he was honestly a little scared of bringing up traumatizing memories for the kid.

Shin’ichi froze.

He didn’t hear the door close behind him.

Turning around, he met teal eyes that had burning into the back of his head all day.

Oh damn it all.

He totally forgot that Sonoko was, as the heiress to the Suzuki corporation, completely fluent in English already. She was the only one who could keep up with him when he talked in English to tourists. Seriously, if she just put her brain into being a detective, she would be a damn good one, especially a liaison one for the tourists who didn’t know how to speak Japanese when they came to visit. She could find so much work as a translator for people in the police force, they were always requesting Shin’ichi for that when he was younger and didn’t want him in the intricacies of murder scenes. Tough luck for them, he always got involved. But Sonoko would make even more money if she was a translator.

Back to his impending doom.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this Detective Geek.” Sonoko hissed, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to the stairs. He ignored the swirl of warmth that tried to blossom into something more when she said that nickname, he had lost track when it became saturated with fondness. Somewhere in the summers of middle schools and they were the only children at upper echelon events and they spent time with each other, because they knew each other wouldn’t stab them in the back.

“Detective Geek” was about as gentle as Shin’ichi’s own “Witch” for Sonoko, and they refused to acknowledge these facts. Especially in the worlds that they lived in, when they were in those ballrooms. Neither could acknowledge this softness that the other knew was hiding for each other, because doing so would condemn them to social death, in the ballroom and in the school.

But with no one else here, Sonoko could try to interrogate Shin’ichi. She wouldn’t get far, Shin’ichi was trying everything he could currently to make sure that Conan was going to be safe from the organization that created him, and that meant not even telling Ran and Sonoko about the kid’s true origins. No matter how much they pried.

“The bags under your eyes are darker, the makeup can’t hide them. And you can’t hide how off you’re acting, sure, the teachers and the classmates don’t know. But me and Ran know. Now spill.” Sonoko turned to him in the stairwell, and damn. He must really be doing bad if she wasn’t really hiding the concern she felt.

Shin’ichi refused the urge to rub at his eyes. He didn’t want to disturb the makeup that he had applied under them. He also didn’t really want to talk to Sonoko right now, he wanted to talk to Conan and Agasa-hakase. Unfortunately, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen, since Sonoko was essentially holding him hostage. And probably wouldn’t let him go until he satiated her curiosity. Why was he friends with her again? Oh right, her and Ran were a combination package, and then they became a triple package for everyone else.

“Look, that’s none of your business.” Shin’ichi added the right amount of whining into his voice, not really hard. He wanted to cry most days if he was honest with himself. He was getting nowhere with the organization that had somehow gotten his DNA and was cloning him. Even though that facility was long gone now, and that had traumatized Conan too. “These are just things that come with the package of having a little brother.”

“Uh huh. Sure. I’d believe that if I hadn’t made sure to get to the elementary school before you and check that he was there today.” Sonoko shot back. “We have thirty minutes Kudo, try again.”

Shin’ichi raked his hands through his hair, a groan escaping him. He really didn’t want to talk about this, he didn’t want to talk to Sonoko of all people about this. Ran, he could talk about the problems that Conan was going through at surface level. Scratch that, not even surface level. Probably water bug level of a surface. Just skating along the top but never getting to the bottom of the lake. That was how things went with Shin’ichi anyways.

There was no one to understand him.

“Look, there, Conan just,” He blew out a hot sigh, his hands falling to his sides before he crossed his arms and pinned Sonoko with a look. If the two girls wanted him to act like a doting older brother that for some reason they pinned on him, they were going to get the whole act.

“You can’t tease him.”

“Duh.” Sonoko said easily.

“No, I mean it Sonoko. He’s already dealing with enough, he can’t have a teenager of all people teasing him mercilessly.” Debating on it, Shin’ichi decided to throw in one of his patented glares. It always worked on a suspect to get them to confess. It never worked on Sonoko though, because she never was in the wrong. Or she never thought she was in the wrong. Shin’ichi still held a grudge for that lemon cookie fiasco.

Sonoko let out a sigh of her own and rolled her eyes at Shin’ichi.

Rude.

“I’m not going to tease the kid. Jeez, you’re such a protective older brother.”

“I have to be.” Came tumbling out of Shin’ichi’s mouth before he could stop it. He winced slightly, but he knew Sonoko’s eyes still caught it. Ah well, she had her own opinions of Kaa-san and Tou-san leaving him alone and not leaving someone more than just Hakase to look after him. So she could probably understand and put her own deductions to use and fill in the blanks with whatever she thought up.

“Conan had,” Shin’ichi grimaced, to really sell the bit, “A bit of an accident last night.” Understanding sparked in Sonoko’s teal eyes. Of course, he didn’t have to spell things out to her. She was his friend after all. So he just continued with the abridged version of last night. Highly abridged. “After a nightmare. I guess those are common for kids our age?”

Shin’ichi gave into temptation and placed his fingers on his eyes, but didn’t rub. He didn’t have any concealer and was working on a prayer to the kami that Ran didn’t track him down after she was finished with her test. While not the best, she was still good with English.

“Why don’t kids come with instruction manuals? It would make life so much easier.” Shin’ichi allowed himself to say the words he had been feeling. He really just wanted an instruction manual at this point, at least for grieving children. He needed some sort of help, he knew that. He was getting Conan a therapist through Megure-keibu of all things. So there was that at least, but he still felt way in over his head.

“That’s not real life though.” Sonoko muttered, her hand touching his wrist again. This time it was gentle, dare Shin’ichi say delicate, as it tugged his hand away from his eyes. She knew what pride he took in them after all. “We all know real life isn’t like the books or the movies.”

Yeah. Yeah the three of them knew, more than anyone really, that the world wasn’t roses and rainbows, but Sonoko probably knew that more than anyone.

Sonoko would go on and on about finding her true love, about finding someone who loved her and would sweep her away and love her like no other, all because it was a dream of hers. Sonoko could truly have anyone she wanted, the three of them knew that, but she still kept her dream, even when she turned down guy after guy when they confessed. Shin’ichi didn’t need to be there for the deductions. The boys who went after Sonoko were only ever after one thing. Money.

Sonoko dreamed of a true love because she knew that wouldn’t be the future for her. In her future, there was no choice. There was no way that the Suzuki Corporation, under her mother’s direction, would let anyone “unworthy” dare to be near the precious heiress. No, in Sonoko’s future was an arranged marriage, and they both knew that. That was her real life, so she threw herself into her own fantasy, much like Ran and her dream to get her parents together.

“An-ny-way!” Sonoko suddenly allowed her voice to grow louder, and her hand dropped from his wrist. She probably was done with being vulnerable for the day. “I’m appalled Shin’ichi. You think I’d tease your kid brother over that? Puh-lease. I’ve been traveling before, it’s scary when you don’t have anyone.”

“I just–” Shin’ichi still didn’t look at her. She, out of everyone else since Ran was still in the classroom, had the best chance of knowing the emotions in his eyes. “He’s so little.”

Sonoko let out a long, drawn out sigh.

The kind that said, “what am I going to do with you?”

Not in the way that Kaa-san did it when he was growing up. It wasn’t the exasperated kind that said that he was being a pest, a pain, or a problem.

It wasn’t the sigh that Megure-keibu tended to do whenever he saw Shin’ichi at the scene of a murder. No slight pain, no disappointment, no resignation. No, none of that was there, even though the message in the sigh was still the same.

No, Sonoko’s sigh, was dare Shin’ichi say, fond. Maybe a little tired, but still one that declared strength. Well now he couldn’t look at her, his eyes were tearing up. It was just because he was sleep-deprived and exhausted from waking up so late, er, early(?) last night and then dealing with a potential break-in. He was just too tired and his eyes were watering because of that, that was all.

“You’re the worst, Detective Geek.” Sonoko said, her voice calmer. Like she had come to a conclusion, and likely it was the wrong one. But that was what Shin’ichi wanted, right? He had been acting so Sonoko would come to the wrong conclusion. It wasn’t lying. It wasn’t.

(Why did it feel like it was? Why did it hurt his heart like when he lied to Ran about believing that she would get her parents back together eventually? Why was the pain burning in his chest? It wasn’t lying.)

(It wasn’t.)

Right?

“I’ll see if I can find any child minders that my parents used to employ.” Sonoko continued, her voice going haughty. “But that means! I get to take Ran out, and you get to be the bag holder. Bring along your little brother, he could probably use the stimulation. He likely just reads detective novels like you all day, idiot.”

Translation, Sonoko wanted to buy Conan clothes. Under the guise of buying Ran clothes. Under the guise of punishing Shin’ichi.

He could work with that.

“You have my number.” Shin’ichi said in return, and then waved his cell phone at her once he was sure that his eyes weren’t bloodshot. “Can I call Conan now? Please?”

“Geez, how’d you go without him beforehand? You’re so attached.” Sonoko rolled her eyes at him, before she turned on heel and started walking back to the classroom. “We have like, fifteen minutes left. Maybe twenty. Work with it.”

Shin’ichi rolled his eyes at his friend’s back, but he felt a little lighter, knowing that he could at least talk to someone about milestones. Books on kids didn’t really talk about trauma. He needed a trauma book on children or something like that. That would probably help Shin’ichi immensely, but he couldn’t have that in the house without Conan finding it in some way. So curious, that kid.

His phone rang. And rang. And rang.

C’mon, pick up. Shin’ichi resisted the want, which was quickly becoming a need, to pace around the staircase as he waited for Conan or Hakase to pick up.

He shouldn’t be so concerned. Hakase was an inventor with a penchant for exploding things. Conan didn’t really know what to do with cell phones. Or phones in general. He needed to teach Conan about that. He needed to teach Conan about a lot of things, but that was for another time, another day when he had time to teach. Maybe he should take Conan camping? He might like it, and he wondered if the little guy had ever seen the stars.

Shin’ichi shouldn’t be so paranoid. His call going unanswered and straight to voicemail wasn’t something that he should be paranoid about. Shin’ichi definitely shouldn’t go and grab his bag, then walk out the classroom, and then walk down to his shoes and leave the high school and check on his little brother. No reason to do that. No reason to do that at all.

But it was so tempting. The hallway to his classroom was so short, and he was already running the best route to run home and check on Conan and Hakase. It wouldn’t take more than just thirty minutes maybe. Surely, the school could excuse his absence because he had a sick family member at home waiting for him, right? They couldn’t get so mad like they used to, when he got involved in murder cases, right? Because he had a new family member to look after and that meant that he needed to watch after Conan.

The school couldn’t get mad about Shin’ichi caring about a living person this time, right?

Oh who was he kidding, they definitely could.

With a groan, he turned back to the classroom. Maybe Megure-keibu would give him a call on the way home and give him some cold cases to deal with. That could maybe make up for the cold feeling in his heart that meant he missing his family. Sure, usually he got this feeling about his parents, but this time the answer was just out of his reach. Quite literally. But he couldn’t get in touch with Conan, and being paranoid about it wasn’t going to make him feel better.

Conan was fine. Agasa-hakase was fine. He had to believe that they were.

His phone startled him with its ringing, and he nearly dropped it in his eagerness to flip it open. Checking the caller identification (Hakase’s house phone, maybe they knew he called?) he gave a sigh of relief and answered the call.

“Hakase, what’s up?” He tried to keep his voice even. The man would probably recognize the tenseness, but he wouldn’t comment on it in front of Conan. The scientist had more tact than that–

[“Shin’ichi.”]

Shin’ichi blinked. That wasn’t Hakase’s voice on the phone.

“Conan? Are you okay?” He asked, already making his way to the shoe locker. He’d just make his excuses to the school later. Family emergencies were something that he could use, especially since his little brother was still such a new addition to, well, everything. Shin’ichi was allowed a grace period for running off and checking on him, right? That was definitely something that should be allowed. Kaa-san could probably throw some weight with the school if not.

[“Could you come to Hakase’s house?”] Conan asked, his voice sounding absolutely tinny on the phone. Shin’ichi sped up his steps to the shoe locker. He didn’t even bother to go and get his school bag. Ran or Sonoko would bring that home, but he couldn’t care less about it right now. Conan was asking for his help. Conan was asking for him.

What was he supposed to do? Ignore that?

Not a chance in hell.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Shin’ichi asked, wrenching open his shoe locker with a lot more force than necessary. Sue him, he was worried. He wedged the phone in between his shoulder and his head as he grabbed his shoes and pushed his slippers into his locker and shoved his feet into his sneakers. He was glad he wore them today, he was going to run all the way to Hakase’s house.

[“It’s– you can’t act rashly.”] Conan told him.

Ah well. There went the running all the way to Agasa-hakase’s house. He could still briskly jog, right? Or maybe he should take a circuitous route? Conan sounded stressed.

“Okay, I won’t.” Shin’ichi promised. “How quickly should I get there? Or would you prefer me not getting there until an hour later?”

Conan needed options to have a workable plan. Just like Shin’ichi needed more information. He couldn’t make bricks from just clay, he needed the utensils as well. So if he would have to go fishing for the information, then he would.

[“NO, don’t take an hour.”]

Shin’ichi squeezed the phone in his hand as he hesitated inside the locker room. Conan sounded scared. And Shin’ichi hated that he couldn’t be there to assuage his fears instantly. That he would probably take more than the fifteen minute walk to his house, to Hakase’s house. Maybe thirty minutes? Would that work? He could create a good circuitous route with just thirty minutes. He was good with Beika’s streets.

“Okay, I won’t.” Shin’ichi was still waiting in front of the school doors. It had started raining earlier, but that was fine. He could take a drizzle. “I’ll just take thirty minutes. I’ll see you then, okay?”

[“Okay.”] Damn it all, Conan’s voice sounded so small.

“I’ll see you soon. Just thirty minutes.” Shin’ichi promised. He didn’t break promises. Not to Conan.

[“I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”] Conan promised back, and only then did Shin’ichi hang up and walk out the doors of the school. He had promised thirty minutes. He could wait thirty minutes to see Conan and demand what had happened from the professor. If it was just an explosion accident, then they could fix that.

If it was something else, then Shin’ichi would fix that too.

Twenty-nine minutes.

A circuitous route.

Shin’ichi caught people committing horrible acts of murder with incredibly intelligent plans to get away with it. He could fix anything for his little brother.

He could survive twenty-nine minutes of not running to Hakase’s house.

~~~~~~~~~~

The day had started out good. Conan didn’t have to go that boring school, didn’t have to deal with kids that were trying to befriend him, and he didn’t have to worry about Them somehow finding him and maybe killing Shin’ichi and Hakase.

Although, the killing Shin’ichi bit was still something he was debating that They would do. The scientists whispers about Yuusaku’s ability to hunt Crows still whirled around in Conan’s head. Surely They wouldn’t risk Yuusaku finding out about Their existence, by killing his son, right? There was no way. The Crows were smart, and doing something like killing Shin’ichi would only grab Yuusaku’s attention and that would be stupid.

So Conan just relaxed with Agasa-hakase and learned about science. Apparently science was more than just what the scientists did in the rooms that he and the other clones had been confined to. Science could be explosions. Science could be Agasa-hakase telling stories about other scientists that he knew, the different type of people that did science. All of them sounded like so much fun, like they were so warm and kind.

And then the rain started. That was something that Conan had only seen in simulations when the scientists had made them run gauntlets. Agasa-hakase had laughed at him when he did so, but it wasn’t a mean laugh. It was more of a chuckle than anything else, and Conan liked that sound. He wondered what other sounds there were that he had never listened to, but that thought became obsolete when he saw something outside the gates of Hakase’s yard.

“Hakase!” Conan pointed, and then fear engulfed him.

Had They found him? Surely not. This would have been the first place They searched. There was no way that They had sent a bomb or something, right? That wasn’t something that They had trained Conan to do, so it couldn’t be a test.

Hakase had gone out, and came back carrying a bundle of clothes. Like Conan had probably been when Shin’ichi brought him in out of the cold just a few days ago. Conan followed the older man as he laid the bundle of clothes on the couch and then went to close the door, which he left open and Conan didn’t know he was supposed to close. He would have to remember for next time.

Peering closer, Conan reached out and tugged on the cloth that was closest. A white coat. Like the ones that those scientists wore when they were testing him and the other clones. His heart always twinged when he thought of them, but he just shook his head to clear that thought from his mind and peered closer to the mystery presented to him. The scientists told him that they were to solve every mystery in front of him without fail. So he would do that now.

He tugged the white cloth down, and then froze when the hair color came into view.

No.

That wasn’t possible, right? This wasn’t, it couldn’t be her. She couldn’t be this girl who was curled up on the couch. That was silly. Nobody shrank down like that, so this couldn’t be, there was no way that this, it just couldn’t be–

Conan didn’t know if the ringing in his ears was real or not. He couldn’t tell. Right now, all he could do was stare at the face in front of his and hope and pray that They weren’t about to break down the door and the windows and kill Hakase and Conan and then go kill Shin’ichi. They wouldn’t risk that, would They? That would draw Yuusaku’s attention. The one thing that They didn’t want.

“Ah, Conan.” Hakase said, and it broke Conan out of that spiral that his thoughts were trying oh so hard to drag him into. “Was that the phone that was ringing?”

“I– I don’t know.” Conan whispered, still staring down at the face of the girl who hadn’t woken up.

“Would you mind checking? I’ll dry off our little friend here.” Hakase said, and Conan forced his feet to move. Once he got away from that face and hair color, he could move faster, practically running towards the phone. Jumping up to see the receiver, he saw a missing phone call. From Shin’ichi. He must have sensed something was off and tried to call!

Glancing back, Hakase’s back was turned.

Conan bit his lip. Surely Hakase wouldn’t mind, right? He wouldn’t mind if Conan called Shin’ichi and brought him here? If this was really, if it was Sherry lying there, then Shin’ichi needed to know, right? If it wasn’t, then maybe Shin’ichi could help her like he helped Conan. Conan didn’t think that They created clones of their own operatives, but it wouldn’t be the first time that Conan was wrong about something.

He was grabbing the phone off of the receiver and pressing the button that would call Shin’ichi back easily enough once he reasoned through it all. Hakase wouldn’t mind. Shin’ichi needed to know. And it would make Conan feel better to have someone smarter around.

The quick talk with Shin’ichi was too quick, and now Conan had to wait thirty minutes.

He didn’t want to wait thirty minutes.

He was going to have to.

Turning around, Conan walked back to Hakase, who was gently wiping at the rain that was on mini-Sherry’s body. She was shivering now, and huffing slightly. Conan wondered if she was sick or something. Could just a few minutes in the rain make someone sick? He would have to ask Shin’ichi that when he got here.

Mini-Sherry’s eyebrows twitched. Then the corners of her mouth. Her eyes flicked beneath her eyelids. She was waking up.

Conan watched as her hands slowly gripped on the fabric of the couch, likely feeling where she was. The Crows had taught him to do that too, if he ever got in a bad place, because he needed to figure out where he was and then figure out how to get out quickly. Had the Crows taught her that too? Was this really Sherry?

He needed to know.

“Sherry-san?”

Her fingers sunk into the couch quickly, and she inhaled quickly. The inhale turned into a cough, and she sat up and brought a hand over her mouth, hunching over. Conan twisted to study the windows. There shouldn’t be anyone watching, but then again. . . . .

Conan raced over and closed the blinds, before coming back to mini-Sherry’s side. Agasa-hakase was rubbing her back, being so gentle with her. Just like Shin’ichi had been with Conan when they first met a few days ago. Conan hesitated, but he knew that he needed information about who this was. If this was really Sherry-san, he needed to make sure so that Shin’ichi could plan.

“Sherry-san? Is it really you?” He asked again, and gray-blue eyes, the ones that had been so cold, looked at him. Conan looked back. Gray-blue eyes blinked. Conan blinked back.

She studied him with those cold eyes, inhaling and exhaling at a steadier rate than she was before.

“You. . . .” She muttered, studying him closer. “You’re one of those ones, aren’t you? The ones in. . . .”

“My name is Conan.” He said, inserting pride into his voice as he leaned closer. He pressed his elbows onto the couch cushion and watched her study him. “Shin’ichi told me I could choose a name. And since you know about the others, that means you’re really Sherry-san, right?”

Mini-Sherry nodded.

“But how is that possible?” Conan’s face scrunched. “People don’t shrink after birth. They grow. You’re not supposed to be as small as me, I’m technically,” he paused, tilting his head. How old was he again? He didn’t know. Shin’ichi seemed to think he was around the other kids age, even though he was way smarter. And they were six, so did that make him six too? “technically six. But you’re as small as me.”

Sherry-san sighed, staring down at her hands.

“Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting this outcome. It’s supposed to be a one out of a hundred, no, maybe even one out of thousand. . . . .” She trailed off, unable to complete her sentence and her thought. Her hands opened and closed. “No damage to the nervous system. My lungs are fine. I could run. What is this, some sort of blank slate? Fates, why do you taunt me so?”

The last part was said so quietly that Conan nearly missed it, and he nearly forgot it when the door opened. He stiffened up, and Sherry-san’s face grew fearful. If it was Them, everyone in the building would die, and they would die a slow and painful death.

“Conan? Agasa-hakase?” Shin’ichi’s voice called out, and Conan relaxed his shoulders, before pushing off of the couch cushions he was leaning on and running towards the entrance.

“We’re in here, Shin’ichi-kun.” Agasa-hakase called, having been silent the entire time that Conan and Sherry-san were talking. Hopefully he didn’t try to piece anything together. Conan liked Agasa-hakase, he didn’t want the older man to die.

“Shin’ichi!” Conan exclaimed as Shin’ichi toed off his shoes and slipped on some slippers. “Why are you soaked?”

“It’s drizzling Conan. Can’t walk in the rain without getting wet.” Shin’ichi explained, and Conan filed that thought away for another day. Maybe he could find a way to prove him wrong. Shin’ichi then scooped Conan up and set him on his hip. Conan blinked at Shin’ichi, but Shin’ichi wasn’t even looking at him. Well he was. But he was looking at Conan’s body. His arms and his legs.

“Nothing hurts?” Shin’ichi asked, and it hit Conan.

He thinks I called him because I was in pain.

“No. Not the reason I called you.” Conan kicked his legs and the older boy set him on the ground. Conan still held onto his hand though, and tugged him along to the living room, where Sherry-san was still waiting. She was still in her wet clothes, and Conan supposed he knew how they got wet now. Logically he knew how rain worked, but it still was weird to see it affect someone else that he could touch.

“Shin’ichi, this is Sherry-san.” He explained. “She’s the reason why I called.”

Shin’ichi looked up and studied Sherry-san. Sherry-san studied him back. It was really quiet in the living room, not even Agasa-hakase talking, even though Conan could tell that he really wanted to.

“Running to your template does make sense, in the long run.” Sherry-san finally spoke. Conan shrugged. He couldn’t really remember running to Shin’ichi’s house, truth be told. He just remembered running and the vague memories of Shin’ichi carrying him to safety.

Shin’ichi’s eyes narrowed at Sherry-san’s words.

“Who exactly are you?”

“Miyano Shiho.” Sherry-san said calmly, folding her hands in her lap. Agasa-hakase came over and scooped Conan up, placing him on a stool so he could watch Shin’ichi and Sherry-san fight with words. She would do this with the other scientists too, make them feel stupid so they had no reason to fight her. She could sometimes even get them nice things, even though it was the other nice lady that got them the best things, and that was through slipping it to them.

“I am, or was, a scientist for the Black Crows. Also known as the Black Organization."

Conan flinched at the name, bringing his arms around himself to try and comfort himself. He hated that name. He hated the fact that he knew that name. He hated the fact that he owed Them his entire existence. He wouldn’t be around if They hadn’t created him, but he hated Them. Was that normal?

A gentle hand on his shoulder, slender but firm, told him that Shin’ichi had walked over to him.

“Breathe Conan. They’re not going to find you.” He spoke softly, and Conan slumped forward, pressing his head into Shin’ichi’s shoulder.

“They will though. Sherry-san and I being in the same location– Shin’ichi They’ll find us.” Conan tried to impart how incredibly important this was. If they both were here, then the Crows would come and find them. There was no reason that Conan should stay. Sherry-san was more important.

“The clone is right.” Sherry-san said.

That’s right. That’s all he was. That’s all Cona– that’s all Clone two-two-one-b was. Just a clone. A cheap knock-off of the real thing and Shin’ichi shouldn’t worry about hi–

“His name,” Shin’ichi’s voice was like a blizzard, freezing everything in its path, “is Conan.”

Conan inhaled slowly. That’s right. Shin’ichi, even from that first day, made it clear that no matter what, he wouldn’t let him go. Clone two-two-one-b, Conan, wasn’t going anywhere. Shin’ichi would just follow and drag him home most likely.

“My apologies.” Sherry-san said demurely.

“Now, you say you’re a scientist.” Shin’ichi continued, like he hadn’t just rewritten Conan’s entire world. “Does that have anything to do with why you are the way that you are currently? Your voice and body says that you’re around seven or eight, but your eyes give you away. More like eighteen or nineteen. And your speech patterns are the same for an eighteen or nineteen year old.”

“Impressive.” Sherry-san said, although it was very dry. “Yes. This is a result of me ingesting poison of my own making. I thought,” her voice hitched, just the slightest bit, wavering ever so slightly as she continued, “I thought maybe I would die. Instead, I shrunk. It was something I observed in the mice, but it was a one in one hundred chance of happening to the mice. And even less in humans. So there, there shouldn’t have been any reason for it to happen to me. I should have been able to go to the other side.”

Conan brought his head up from Shin’ichi’s damp shoulder, it was just rainwater, he swore it was, to look at Sherry-san. Sherry-san, instead of looking so cold like she used to, looked, almost sad?

“You said the fates were taunting you with this.” He piped up. “Why?”

Sherry-san shot him a look, but he had Shin’ichi by his side. So he could do anything.

“Because my sister is dead. There’s no reason for me to be here.” She said plainly.

Conan tilted his head. He remembered the woman that sometimes came with Sherry-san. She was as nice as she could be, in the world that they were in. She had a nice smile as she played with them, games that tried to keep them entertained and laughed when she got them mixed up. A pang rattled through his chest. She was dead? That wasn’t fair.

“How do you know your sister is dead?” Shin’ichi asked, his hand rubbing at Conan’s back. It made him feel safe. Feel warm. Made him feel like the feeling in his chest that was rattling around wasn’t so bad.

“She was the one who let that one out.” Sherry-san nodded in Conan’s direction. Conan blinked. He wasn’t supposed to be out alone though. He and Clone one-one-six-a were supposed to get out together.

Hold on.

Conan cupped his chin.

How did One-one-six-a manage to get all the knicks on the walls and corners? They were always watched.

Understanding dawned on him, as well as dread.

“She was the one who put the guiding knicks on the walls.” He said, gripping his shirt. He hadn’t thought about how they got there, only that they would guide him out. He should have thought. He should have questioned One-one-six-a. Couldn’t do that now, and now the woman who helped was dead.

“Yes. And thanks to their carelessness, everyone who was involved in that research was killed. My sister was one of those people, despite her low level and despite her insistence that we would get out one day.” Sherry-san laughed lowly. “No one escapes Them though.”

“That’s wrong though.” Shin’ichi said. Both Conan and Sherry-san looked up at him.

“You both escaped, didn’t you?”

Conan felt like the sun was parting the clouds. Sherry-san definitely looked like she was feeling it too.

“We just need to protect you both.” A shift, and Conan was on Shin’ichi’s hip again. He didn’t complain, he actually liked it. He liked being close to his Template, pressing his head on Shin’ichi’s chest and hearing his heartbeat. It reminded Conan that he was alive, that Shin’ichi was alive too. They were surviving Them, they had survived Them for like, four days now. That had to be some sort of record.

“And I know you believe your sister is dead, but I’m going to go looking.” Shin’ichi said, determination in his tone.

“Why?” Sherry-san looked like her world had been torn apart. Shin’ichi did have a tendency to do that to people.

“Because without a body, there’s a small chance that someone could be alive, for one.” Shin’ichi said. And Sherry-san’s eyes, which had been cold, now sparked with something. Something bright and burning, before she turned away.

“And two?” She asked, gripping her wet white coat close.

“I want to thank her. Without her help, I wouldn’t have Conan.” Shin’ichi shrugged, and Conan felt it.

“Of course, can’t be truly altruistic, can you?” Sherry-san sighed. “What do we do about me then?”

“We send you to school.” Shin’ichi said, sounding completely serious.

“What?”

Conan winced. Sherry-san didn’t sound happy.

“Listen. I would appreciate it, a lot, if you could keep an eye on Conan. Please?”

Hey!

“Hey!” Conan pounded his hand down on Shin’ichi’s shoulder. “I can take care of myself!”

“I know you can.” Shin’ichi sounded entirely too placating to Conan’s ears. “But it would make me feel better if you had someone watching your back.”

Conan pouted, but still leaned into the hand that guided him back to Shin’ichi’s side.

Sherry-san was watching with almost . . . . . Conan wanted to say sad eyes. Longing eyes. Before they were covered with another emotion.

“Fine.” She sighed. “I suppose if you want me to watch over Conan-kun, I’ll be in your care, Kudo-kun.”

“I appreciate it.” Shin’ichi beamed. He sounded really sincere.

~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, Shin’ichi was regretting this decision.

“What do you mean,” He gripped the phone tightly as he paced in the library, “That Ayumi-chan climbed into a trunk, found a severed head, money, and now you’re all in pursuit!?”

[“Exactly what I said before.”] Haibara Ai’s bored drawl said in his ear. [“Oh dear, I have to go now Kudo-san. Talk to you later.”]

“Wait! Haibara!”

The little she-devil had the audacity to hang up on him.

Shin’ichi swore as he raced outside the library to grab his shoes and his skateboard. He honestly thinks his life has gotten at least five times as hard thanks to Haibara’s introduction.

Chapter Text

Shin'ichi was not one to get upset for no reason. However, he could definitely claim that there was a definite reason to be upset here.

"Let me get this straight." He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, all five kids lined up in front of him, their heads hung low. Except for Haibara, because she refused to hang her head like an actual child. Of course she wouldn't, she saw no reason to hang her head when she had acted in what she thought was justifiable defense.

"You were playing a game of hide and seek."

All four normal kids, the kids that weren't shrunken adults, nodded. Haibara inclined her head.

"Haibara was the seeker, and because Ayumi-chan," Here, Shin'ichi sent said girl a glance, and she hung her head lower. Her hands clasped tighter in front of her, "wanted to win, she decided to hide in the boot of a car?"

"Yes Shin'ichi-niichan." Ayumi-chan said softly. She looked contrite enough, but Shin'ichi was quickly learning what utter hell spawn kids could be.

"And because of the length of the game, and because they," Shin'ichi motioned to the poor people who were now involved with the kids, "drove off, you didn't think to call me until later. And didn't think to call me later until you found what you believed to be a severed head and money?"

"That about sums it up." Genta-kun muttered softly, his arms crossed in front of himself. He didn't want to admit that he was in the wrong in helping knock the guy to the ground apparently.

"And because of your jumping to conclusions, you decided to pursue the two men, instead of say, calling the police?" Shin'ichi directed this question at Mitsuhiko-kun, who was quite clever and knew better. Or at least Shin'ichi thought he had known better. He was quite sure that out of all of them, Conan would have known better, but the impulsive Kudo genes would have put a stop to any critical thinking when another person was in danger.

"They were talking about killing her. We heard it over the badges." Conan muttered, holding up the Detective badge that Agasa-hakase had created for the kids. Shin'ichi was both in awe that Agasa-hakase had created a new invention so soon, and exasperated that he hadn't told Shin'ichi about this new gadget. That would have been helpful.

"We were rehearsing our lines!" One of the men protested. The one that was nursing his lower shin. The other guy was unconscious, as Conan had likely used his stun gun wristwatch on the man. "Also damn kid, you have a hell of a kick."

Conan preened a little at that, but Shin'ichi went back to pinching the bridge of his nose.

"This is why you need to gather all the pieces of evidence before you come to a conclusion." He lectured the four children and one mini adult. "And while I would love to do all the punishing here, you three need to report back to your parents, while I have to talk to these gentlemen and try to repair the damages."

The boys looked sorry. They had all tackled the man that had pulled Ayumi-chan out of the boot of the car, but the paper mache head had gotten banged up with all the sliding around in the boot thanks to Ayumi-chan also being back there. So that meant that Shin'ichi needed to figure out if he could just pay the guys or if he would have to find a different way to make the men not talk to the papers about being tackled by three boys.

"Damn it, it doesn't look like this will be fine in time for the play tonight." The awake man muttered, and toed his friend, who was still unconscious from whatever Hakase had put in the stun gun wristwatch. Maybe with Haibara around, they could streamline the formula. "And he's not waking up. This is a disaster!"

Now, Shin'ichi was not someone who often played the wicked older brother. He loved Conan and he did like the other Shounen Tantei-Dan, despite the trouble that they were proving to find. Just last week, they had managed to find an old house, convince Conan it was haunted (he hadn't known what the word "haunted" was), and investigated it after dark. And then found an old murderer who had been abducted by his mother. Is this what normal children did? Shin'ichi didn't remember causing this much trouble for his parents.

Sure he had definitely done some experiments around the house, but most of those were to figure out gravity on objects or how to pick different locks. Also about how long it would take blood to dry and how the motions of a person running affected said blood, but that was before Shin'ichi had done that particular experiment in the dining room and gotten the fake blood mixture he had made on the carpet. Kaa-san had put her foot down about keeping his experiments to certain places in the house after that. In Shin'ichi's defense, he needed to know about how the blood mixture would react to the thread count of that particular carpet, but that was neither here nor there.

All this being said, he shouldn't be volunteering the kids for something, but they were also the ones that created this mess in the first place. He could remind them that their actions had consequences while also testing Conan's acting skills.

"Conan. Mitsuhiko-kun. Genta-kun. Ayumi-chan. Haibara-san. Get over here." He motioned to the kids, and Conan came willingly, ducking behind Shin'ichi's legs and gripping his pants. He was still clingy, despite the Crows not finding them with both Conan and Haibara in the same vicinity. Ayumi-chan followed just trusting, she was a very innocent girl after all. Despite all the trouble that she seemed to find. Mitsuhiko-kun came over a little more warily, eyes studying Shin'ichi with thinly veiled apprehension. Genta-kun still looked sullen. And Haibara still looked bored as all hell.

Shin'ichi studied the three boys, studied Ayumi-chan, met Haibara's eyes, before nodding at his own thoughts, and turning to the stage actor.

"I think the three boys can stand in for your partner there." Shin'ichi should probably call an ambulance for the man. He was still unconscious, and didn't know exactly what Hakase had put in the stun gun wristwatch. "Ayumi-chan can pretend to be the head, we just need to do some makeup for her."

He wasn't going to make Haibara go in front of crowds and act. While she might be shrunken and no normal human being would even consider that fact, he was still incredibly wary of putting her in front of a multitude of people who he hadn't vetted yet.

"Haibara-san can work backstage." He decided, and he got an evil eye for it, but he raised his eyebrow at her. She glowered, but grimaced and gave the slightest of nods.

Conan's nails sunk into Shin'ichi's skin beneath his pants.

"Are you sure it'll be fine?" Conan asked. His eyes were darting around, trying to figure a way out no doubt. He had likely deduced that he was going to be riding Mitsuhiko-kun's shoulders, who was going to be riding Genta-kun's shoulders. Conan was going to be the head. He was going to be out in the open, and possibly spotted.

"We'll put a fake mustache on you, a hat, some dark sunglasses. Should make a pretty convincing disguise, don't you think?" Shin'ichi looked to the stage actor, who looked like he was going through the stages of grief so quickly he was going through them again. Almost like he was on the spin cycle of the washing machine back home.

And then the man got a calculating glint in his eyes as he put his hand to his chin, studying the boys and Ayumi-chan.

"Yeah, this could work. Maybe. We could have enough time."

"Then let's hop to it." Shin'ichi nodded. "I'll go buy the fake blood and the costume materials."

About five hours later and a dispersed theater later, Shin'ichi sat in the theater, watching the video back on his handheld camera.

Kaa-san might want some proof that Shin'ichi had some acting talent, and since Conan was Shin'ichi's clone, he had some of Shin'ichi's latent acting talent. But there were some flashes of inspiration in there, like when Ayumi-chan couldn't help but fidget and the audience noticed and Conan jumped on the opportunity to improvise. Kaa-san would approve, she always said that the best actors were the ones that could improvise.

The rest of the parents had come by to pick up the rest of the kids, but Conan and Haibara were taking the longest, just in case there were in fact Organization members lingering in the crowd. Haibara had said that she didn't feel any, because apparently she could feel their presence like an oppressive blanket on a function, but they were being careful. Shin'ichi would rather be careful for the rest of his life until this Organization is gone than for a slip to happen and for either Conan or Haibara to be in danger.

"Bakaito! You said you weren't coming!"

Shin'ichi had heard the approach, but he had hoped that she wasn't going to come to him and had instead been interested in something else in this row. His life could never be easy, could it?

He looked up, and blinked slowly. His first thought of the girl in front of him was that Ran had gotten a new haircut and had forgotten to tell him. But no, after a half second he had noted quite a few differences. Most importantly was the hair, messier than Ran would ever allow it to be before she left her home. Second was her eye color. Ran's eyes were a shade of periwinkle that often dipped into slight shade of lilac when the sun hit them right. This girl's were a shade of blue that reminded Shin'ichi of his father's. The third thing that differentiated this girl from Ran was their physiques.

Ran was a martial artist. While this girl definitely had muscle and power, it was located in her upper body, especially in her arms and her core. She likely was a bojutsu martial artist. Different from Ran as Ran focused more on her kicks and punches, not on weapons. Ran hated weapons.

However the two girls did look remarkably similar when they were mad. Now if only Shin'ichi knew why in the world this girl was mad at him. He hadn't done anything!

"May I help you?" Shin'ichi asked after noting these differences in two seconds.

The girl paused. She studied him, and the angry flush on her cheeks gave way to a brighter flush.

"Oh my gosh Aoko is so sorry! You look so much like my friend Aoko thought you were him. He said he was too busy to come tonight with me, so when Aoko saw you. . . . ." She bowed lowly.

"It's fine." Shin'ichi waved away the apology. "You actually look like my friend that I almost called you Ran." He put his camera down and pulled out his phone, searching his pictures until he found a picture of Ran at Tropical Land (Kami was it only a few weeks ago that Conan came into his life?) and showed it to her.

"Wow." The girl blinked. "You weren't kidding!" She grinned at Shin'ichi. "Nakamori Aoko, at your service, again, Aoko is so terribly sorry for nearly hitting you."

"It's really fine." Shin'ichi smiled, and her phone was shown to Shin'ichi. His eyebrows shot up, because damn. That guy really did look like him. He would have thought about long lost twins or something if he didn't know his mother as well as he did. And he would have thought about a long lost cousin if he wasn't aware of just how possessive his father was of family. Family was sacred to the Kudos. "Wow we do look alike. I can see why you mistook me for him."

"Yes, but you're a lot nicer than that idiot." Nakamori-san huffed. "Damn magician."

Hold on. . . . Nakamori. . . .

"Nakamori." He mused out loud. "Are you related to Division Two's Nakamori-keibu-san?"

"That's my dad!" The girl grinned at him. She flipped her phone around, and her jaw dropped. "Oh shit, it's that late!? Aoko is terribly sorry, Aoko has to run! Nice to meet you!"

And just as quickly as she had arrived, Nakamori Aoko-san left.

Shin'ichi was left blinking at mid-air until he turned back to his handheld camera with a shrug, noting the superior lighting for this small stage play. Clearly Haibara's work from behind the scenes, and he wondered just how much sneaking around she did to make it happen. Despite not being as invested, she clearly was a perfectionist.

"Shin'ichi?" Conan asked, hopping down from the stage at last.

"Hey, ready to head home?" Shin'ichi hid a yawn, turning the camera off and meeting the six-year-old halfway. Haibara appeared from behind the curtains, barely holding a yawn in herself. "Hakase has the Beetle around the corner. So you two can sleep on the way back."

Conan toddled over, clearly exhausted from all the acting that he's done, and nearly plowed right into Shin'ichi's legs. Shin'ichi decided to take pity on his little brother and picked him up, settling him on his hip as he waited for Haibara to meet him halfway as well. The not-girl looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and unimpressed look, which Shin'ichi raised his eyebrow right back at.

"I'm not an actual child, Kudo-kun." Came a bland, but somehow sharp drawl.

"Oh I'm aware." Shin'ichi rolled his eyes. The not-child absolutely refused to be treated as anything but her nineteen years that she was supposed to be. "But you are in the form of a child, and you are under my protection. Children are easy to be kidnapped or snatched, and walking around the corner is actually quite perilous."

"Oh is it now?"

"Very." Shin'ichi gave an imperious sniff, and then blinked at his own actions because it was something that Sonoko did. It must have rubbed off on him.

One walk and car ride later, Shin'ichi was shifting through his mail and paused on a letter.

He put on some gloves and carefully opened it studying the cut and paste kanji on the paper.

"Shin'ichi? What's that?" Conan rubbed at one eye, glasses long foregone in the safety of their home.

"Someone asking for help. On Tsukikage island." Shin'ichi frowned at the letter, scanning until he got to a name. "Asoh Keiji huh? Conan, what do you say that we go there over this weekend? You've never been, so you might like it."

"Sure!" Conan brightened up, even through the exhaustion. "Seeing you in action can teach me some more!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Bakaito!"

On pure instinct, Kaito ducked the mop that was going for his head like a heat-seeking missile.

"Ahoko! What's that for!?"

He was honestly quite sure he hadn't done anything today! It was a Saturday, Aoko was wearing jeans so no skirt to flip, he hadn't been praising Kid, he hadn't embarrassed her with a magic in any way! This was unfair treatment!

"Getting your attention." The mop was put away, and what the hell? Was this how this hellish woman got the attention of the opposite sex nowadays? Kaito pitied the man who she would be interested in. Once upon a time, he was sure that it was him, but then Kaitou Kid happened to his life, and he knew he couldn't do that to his best and oldest friend.

"Did you know you have a doppelganger?" Aoko continued, not knowing that she was interrupting Kaito's thoughts, and despite himself, Kaito felt himself being pulled out of his brooding about what could have been.

"I what?"

"Aoko didn't get his name, it was late last night that we met, but it was when Aoko went to Takahashi-san's stage play." Aoko explained as she started to make breakfast.

Ooooh, that made sense. Takahashi Natsu, an old senpai of theirs that had gone into the stage acting business. He had a play last night, but Kaito had begged off of going, citing homework. It had been homework, but more of the moonlight magician variety that he needed to complete, not the schoolwork variety. School homework was so boring.

"Aoko nearly found a mop to hit him with."

"Ahoko, that's not you introduce yourself to someone."

"Bakaito!"

Immediately she grabbed the broom from the closet and chased after him as he ran, and he couldn't help but cackle as he flipped over Nakamori-keibu-jii.

"Your eggs are burning!" He called from his spot in the corner of the ceiling, and Aoko cursed up a storm as she ran back to the kitchen.

"Kaito-kun, isn't it too early for acting like a spider?" Nakamori-keibu-jii asked.

"Never!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Kudo Shin'ichi was acting off.

She knew he was, she could see how his friends were watching him. Mouri Ran was giving him concerned glances out of the corner of her eye, and Suzuki Sonoko wasn't even hiding the glares that she was sending at the back of Kudo-kun's head.

That had been happening for a few weeks at least, but it had died down for at least a week. And now it was back to those glances and that stare. Concerning.

And that wasn't even bringing into account the fact of Kudo-kun's actions. He could act well enough, that was true. But she could see beyond that acting ability. Kudo-kun was sluggish, staring out the window with dazed eyes and a grimace on his lips. He spun his pencil in what could be a lazy way, but she could see the kanji that he was writing down in those strokes. She couldn't exactly see from her position what exactly he was writing, but it looked like it had to do with accelerant for fire.

Maybe something for a case? He was rather famous here for being a teen detective, even though he was shying away from the spotlight recently. It made her wonder, but there wasn't anything on his profile that had raised any red flags. Only that he was annoyingly perceptive and she needed to be prepared to drop into her routine on a dime when his eyes watched her.

But for right now, Jodie was wondering if she needed to do that.

And then reminded herself that yes, she should keep up her ditzy "Jodie Saintemillion" act because who knows who those bastards are using to watch her? Just because one teenage detective was acting off doesn't mean that she should drop her guard.

Shuu would laugh his ass off if she got caught like an amateur. And then bail her out. And then berate her all the while James shook his head at the entire mess she had created.

So Jodie put thoughts about teenaged detectives acting off until she managed to find Kudo-kun in one of the hallways for Teiten high school, just simply blinking off into space as he clutched his phone tight. It was in between class periods, and Jodie wasn't needed anywhere, so she wondered if she should intervene, if she should ask him if she was alright. He certainly didn't look it.

Oh sure, he had makeup under his eyes that was expertly placed to hide the eye bags, but Jodie was good at spotting masks like that. She had been training herself to find their Rotten Apple after all. And while Vermouth might prefer some other means to hide her features, the makeup route was always easy, especially when she was disguising as a woman.

Debating back and forth, Jodie decided that maybe Kudo-kun could use a distraction at the very least. And who better to be a distraction than the ditzy American teacher who could barely speak Japanese in the first place?

"Kudo-kun? Are you alright?" She asked, in heavily accented Japanese, leaning over and reaching a hand out to his shoulder. "Do you need the nurses office?"

Kudo-kun's eyes quickly darted to her, and he shifted away from her hand as he seemed to come out of wherever his thoughts had taken him.

"Ah, hello Jodie-sensei." He said. In nearly perfect English. It was accented, but a hell of a lot better than most high school students in Japan could do. Clearly she needed up the complexity of his assignments. "Am I bothering you?"

"Oh no, not at all!" Jodie switched to English too, just to see if she could catch him off-guard. "I was just wondering if you were alright is all? You looked like you were spacing out there."

A brief look of concentration flashed in those blue eyes as he translated in his head, and Kudo-kun tilted his head.

"I was just thinking about something."

"Is this something that has you upset? You have been drifting off in class Kudo-kun." Jodie wagged her finger at the teen.

"Ah, sorry for that, sensei." Kudo-kun said, still in somewhat accented English. But he didn't seem to be wanting to open up, and Jodie couldn't do anything for him if he didn't. So she turned to walk away. Right as she was about to turn the corner and go to the teachers lounge, probably to scarf some donuts down to keep up her appearance as an uneducated American, as she heard Kimura-sensei refer her to, Kudo-kun called out to her again.

"Sensei?"

"Hmm?" Jodie turned back around, raising an eyebrow at the boy, who was still looking down at the phone in his hand. He's been rather attached to that lately. Even more so than when the police call him.

"Have you ever, ah," Kudo-kun drifted off, staring at the phone intently. "Have you ever failed to save someone? Someone who was determined to walk the wrong path?"

The pieces were starting to come together. The drifting off, the thinking of accelerant for fire. And didn't she just read something in the papers about a fire on an island nearby? It only made the news because there was a triple homicide on the island. Jodie wasn't a betting woman, she knew better than to get into something like that with a life she had, but if she was, she would place good money on Kudo Shin'ichi-kun being on that island.

Had he failed to save someone there? Ah, the kid still had a soft heart. It wasn't hardened by the war between justice and injustice, the war between light and dark.

"I have failed, yes." Jodie said, injecting some of the old pain in her voice. An old wound from her past, a mission gone wrong and not everyone getting out in time. Despite being a good agent, she wasn't infallible. All-knowing and seeing, she was not. Things happened, and people died.

Shuu also came to her mind. He was falling deep into the mission, and he wouldn't come up for air. Not until he got busted by the damn Crows and he had to leave. Even still, he pushed into the mission, refusing to be pushed out. She was losing him, despite him still being alive.

"There are a few people, that come to mind." Jodie turned around, walking back to Kudo-kun, who was looking at her with wide blue eyes. "One, a dear friend of mine. He throws himself into his work, refusing to come up for air. I fear one day, I'll turn around and he'll be gone."

Kudo-kun tilted his head, lips thinning. Clearly, he didn't think that this was the same type of loss that he was feeling. Fair enough, Jodie would have to spin a tale about someone she failed to save. Let's see. . . .

"Another, a student of mine." He had technically been. Jodie was teaching Michael, and the boy, barely out of his teens, had a bright future in front of him. It was supposed to just be a brief stint of undercover work. It ended with Michael dying in an alleyway, because Jodie hadn't prepared him properly. Then again, there was no preparing anyone for the Organization's interference. "I was supposed to guide him. I failed to do so, and now he is not with us anymore."

Kudo-kun clearly translated in his head, and this is what resonated with him more.

"How, how do you continue?" Kudo-kun asked. "After such a failure?"

Jodie leaned against the wall, staring out the window. Now that was the question, wasn't it? For a long time, she hadn't after Michael's death. James had helped her, and Shuu had insisted that she didn't waste her potential, didn't waste Michael's memory, with her staying stagnant. But that was Shuu's philosophy, and that wasn't something that a teenager like Kudo-kun needed to hear.

"We remember." She said simply. "We remember them, and we continue for others, and ourselves. After all, if we only lean on others, then when that person is gone, there is no way for us to stand properly, yes?"

Kudo-kun was staring at her with those blue eyes, before he slowly nodded.

"Yes. You're correct."

He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled slowly.

"Thank you, sensei. I should probably spend time with people I love to remind myself." That last bit was mumbled in Japanese so quickly that Jodie wasn't supposed to hear it and understand it, but maybe she could use it to her advantage.

"Ah, what was that? You love someone?" She could still hold onto her ditzy persona for a little while longer. But Kudo-kun would probably be a little wary if she laid it on as thick as she did before. So she would have to rear it back a little in his presence.

"Yes." Kudo-kun said it so easily. "I love my little brother quite a lot."

Ice coursed through Jodie's body, although it didn't show on her face. Nothing but curiosity did.

"Oh? You have a little brother Kudo-kun? I didn't know that about you!"

Kudo Shin'ichi was an only child. She had done her homework on all her students. Call her paranoid, Shuu certainly did. But she had merely directed her gaze to James, who often quizzed them both on their identities, on little things that could trip them up, until they knew everything about their personas backwards and forwards and right-side up and upside-down.

Shuu had acquiesced quite easily after that.

Kudo Shin'ichi was an only child to the world renowned Kudo Yukiko, nee Fujimine, who retired after marrying her husband Kudo Yuusaku, the world renowned author of the Night Baron series. The Kudos were currently running around the world to avoid Kudo Yuusaku's editors, typically returning to America because it was so vast and easy to avoid people there.

He was an only child, Kudo Yukiko didn't have another child. Unless he was a freshly newborn and the Kudos came back to Japan right after Jodie began her undercover work. That would work, that would make sens—

"Yes!" Kudo-kun immediately brightened up, flipping open his phone and messing with it, before showing Jodie a picture. Jodie took it in, trying not to let her fingers shake.

"That's Conan. He's six, and so smart. And he's already made some friends at his new school. Although they get into a lot of trouble." Kudo-kun rambled, while Jodie's eyes were fixated on the picture of the kid.

He looked identical to the teenager in front of her, except for wearing some glasses that she could see on Kudo Yuusaku's face. Who the hell was this kid? Where did he come from? There was no way that he was related to Kudo Shin'ichi thanks to the facts she knew, but the facts in front of her face in the form of a picture were right there. The same shade of blue, the same shade of hair.

"Awww, he's so cute!" Jodie squealed outwardly. And at that moment, the warning bell rang. "Ah! Kudo-kun, you had better run to your next class. Best to not be late." She said in her heavily accented Japanese, and Kudo-kun nodded as he flipped his phone shut.

"Yes, of course." He hesitated though, eyes searching for hers. "Thank you. For your advice."

Beneath her panic, a soft bloom of happiness blossomed.

This. This was why she was an FBI agent. Helping people, even though she shouldn't be here, it was why everything was worth it. Some people just needed a hand to reach out, or a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to listen.

Now back to her panic after Kudo-kun was gone. She signed out for the day, citing stomach problems, and practically threw herself into her car and checked for bugs quickly, before yanking the phone for her FBI work out and dialing the pre-programmed number.

["Hello?"] The voice of Matthews responded, her point of contact back in America for papers and things of that nature. If there was something hiding, then Matthews could find it. If the Kudos had this Conan kid at home while globe-trotting, then he would know.

"I need files on all of the Kudos, the Kudo from my class. Kudo Shin'ichi." Jodie said as she drove into the street, probably a little recklessly, but it was fine. No one else was really on the streets right now.

["Alright, I'll get those to you by tonight. Need anything else?"] Matthews asked.

"No. Thank you Matthews." She sighed and hung up.

Later that night, Jodie stared down at the four files on her computer. Four files.

Four.

There were only three a few months ago.

These were clever forgeries too, sliding "Kudo Conan" into the family like it was nothing. She was almost impressed, if she wasn't concerned. Who exactly was this Conan, and where the hell did he come from?

Jodie would keep an eye out for the Rotten Apple, and for this little mystery that she had found.

~~~~~~~~~~

Conan was worried for Shin'ichi.

Ever since that case on the island, he had become withdrawn. Like he was sad. Like he was upset like Conan was about the fact that he couldn't save One-one-six-a. Like when Conan realized that the Organization had killed the rest of everyone else he had known with that explosion.

Shin'ichi hadn't been able to save the killer at that island, was that why he was so upset? He had looked so close to crying as he had gotten to his feet, ready to run back into the fire when Conan had grabbed his hand the music had started playing. Whatever song was playing, whatever the message was, Shin'ichi wasn't sharing it this time, unlike the other messages from that case.

Conan kicked the ball around, juggling it as he tried to think about what to do to help Shin'ichi. Shin'ichi clearly needed some help, but who could he ask for help?

The Kudos were currently back in America. Ran wasn't someone that he could really ask for help, Conan didn't really know her even though she knew Shin'ichi, and that went for the other girl too, Sonoko was her name? Agasa-hakase wouldn't understand, not really. And Haibara would probably just see the murderer as a murderer.

But. . . .

Conan caught the ball in his hands as he thought.

Those men had taken everything from that murderer. Sure it wasn't right, what he had done in the end. But Shin'ichi had gone into that fire to try and make him see that life could continue. And instead, the murderer had chosen to kill himself instead of facing justice. The murderer had died, and Shin'ichi had lived, but only after three more lives were lost.

It didn't. . . .

"Conan?" Shin'ichi asked from the backyard porch. "Conan are you okay?"

He turned to look at Shin'ichi, a frown pulling at his face while Shin'ichi crouched in front of him.

"You're not running a fever, hopefully." Shin'ichi muttered while pressing a hand to Conan's forehead.

"It doesn't make sense." Conan said, staring down at the soccer ball in his hands.

"What doesn't?"

"Why do people kill?" Conan looked up at his Template, a shocked look morphing into a more sorrowful one. "It doesn't make sense to me, Shin'ichi. Why do some people take lives?"

Shin'ichi sighed deeply, and reached the hand up that had been on Conan's shoulders to wipe at tears that he hadn't known were falling.

"I don't know."

Conan's brow furrowed. That didn't make sense. Shin'ichi knew everything. Why wouldn't he know—

"It's not something that I've ever been able to figure out." Shin'ichi continued as he picked Conan up, ball and all, and carried him back to the porch. "I can understand it in my head well enough, I guess. Someone gets angry at another person, and it causes them to lash out. But it just, it doesn't make sense to me." Shin'ichi shook his head. "Someone can explain why they did it so many times, but it doesn't make sense. You must have inherited it from me, this inability to understand. Sorry for that."

"No." Conan shook his head. "Don't apologize for it. I don't want to understand. I don't want to be like Them. They kill because it's convenient. Because it's easy. If I never understand, I'll never be like Them. Right?"

"Right." Shin'ichi smoothed a hand over Conan's hair and down his back. "Do you want to go to Hakase's today? Or will Haibara scare you off?"

Conan chewed on his lip. He didn't like Sherry. Sherry was one of Them, or she had used to be. She had used to be Sherry, and while she was different now, and she had been different from the rest of the Crows, she still didn't help out the rest of the clones when they needed it. Sherry had seen them as a means to an end. Her sister had been a lot nicer.

But at the same time, he didn't not like Haibara. Haibara was scared like Conan, she knew what the Organization would do if they found Haibara and Conan to be alive. Haibara knew the stakes of the very deadly game of chess that they were playing. Haibara understood, but he also saw some of the glances she gave him and Shin'ichi from time to time when they went over. Like she was upset at their closeness or something.

But if Shin'ichi was with Conan, then he could do anything.

"I can go to Hakase's. Why? Did he call you?" Conan dropped the ball onto the back porch and let Shin'ichi carry him over to Hakase's house.

"Mhm. Something about a new invention." Shin'ichi said as he opened the door to Hakase's and slipped his shoes off. "We're here."

"Ah, welcome welcome! You're just in time Shin'ichi, get over here."

Shin'ichi walked over, still holding Conan. Not that Conan minded. He was tired. He always got tired more easily when it started to get cold. It had been noted in his files that the Crows had, it was why he hadn't been moved up in the project yet.

"Hmm? And why is mini-Kudo-kun so sluggish?" Haibara's voice asked, somehow dry but also having a hint of worry in it. "He was fine earlier."

"I think it's the weather." Shin'ichi said. "Clones, the little studies that I could find, stated that they're more susceptible to sickness and stuff like that. So the cold could be affecting Conan."

"Do you want me to look over him?"

Shin'ichi didn't answer straight away.

Conan lifted his head, showing that he was still awake.

It wasn't a terrible thought. Sherry was a biochemist genius, she had been hailed by the entire Organization as such. She would know more about the human body that Agasa-hakase would. And Sherry had worked with the clones before. Granted, clones that went with her weren't typically seen again. If they were, they were either weaker or stronger. Never in the middle.

"Conan? What do you think?"

Conan tilted his head. He. . . . didn't know what to think. It was Sherry. He didn't like Sherry. It was Haibara. He was okay-ish with Haibara. His mind was jumbled and he wasn't making sense, not even to himself. He hadn't made sense since that island case last weekend. He couldn't make heads or tails of everything that happened after the reveal, and it hurt.

"We'll put a pin in the idea and come back to it." Shin'ichi told Haibara after watching Conan's face, and Conan was grateful that Shin'ichi understood him without saying a word.

"Shin'ichi! Conan! Come see, come see the new gadgets." Agasa-hakase bustled back in, and Conan perked up a little. The space was as messy as always, but he was so glad that it was.

Science deserved to be a little messy sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere, a woman who looked far too young to be her actual age studied the picture in her grasp.

There was no mistaking what she saw. There was no way to mistake what she saw.

Oh wasn't it just adorable? The little cowlick and the tuft of hair in the back? The glasses that the little thing thought would be a shield against the Organization finding him? The way that he was keeping his head down but also chatting to those cute little friends?

So cute. How adorable.

Blood-red lips smirked as she took a sip of wine.

It looked like Vermouth would have to get close to Kudo Shin'ichi then.

How interesting.