Hi everyone. ^_^ By way of brief introduction -- I've been a fan of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories since I was in grade school, and I've been a fan of anime for almost that long. So stumbling across Detective Conan as I did was the perfect meeting of two of my favorite genres! On top of the joy of discovering a great new series (well... new to *me*...), it also sparked my fanfiction muse. What follows is the first chapter of my very first Detective Conan fanfic. By way of warning for those familiar with the series, it contains spoilers up to volume 26 of the manga, and can be considered to be an alternate time line or break-off from the series at that point. It is also sprinkled with a few random Japanese honorifics. Any mistakes in canon or characterization are entirely my own fault. I hope you like it. Feedback is welcome and appreciated (unless it's "Why are you writing this instead of Hearts of Ice?" >_<). The Case of the Missing Detective A Detective Conan Fanfic by Krista Perry File 01: An Old Murder Comes to Light ~*~ For the fifth time that evening, Ran sighed heavily over the remains of her ice cream. The incessant, distracted tap of her spoon against her empty bowl echoed through the small dining area of the Mouri residence. "Ran-nee-chan?" Startled from her preoccupation, Ran looked across the dinner table to where Conan knelt. The young boy had paused in licking the chocolate syrup off of his spoon and was eyeing her curiously. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You keep sighing." Ran blinked, and forced a rather guilty smile. "N... nothing! I'm just thinking, that's all." Conan frowned skeptically, a messy circle of sticky chocolate-stained vanilla framing his pursed mouth. Ran suppressed the sudden urge to lean over and wipe his face clean with her napkin. "Thinking about what?" he asked. He was looking at her with that familiar, intense look -- the one that seemed to pierce right through her, and see right into her soul. She shrugged, and looked down at her fingernails as if they had suddenly become very interesting. "Just... things," she said, hedging. "What things?" Conan persisted innocently, his eyes wide and inquisitive behind his huge glasses. Ran sighed again, frustrated that Conan wouldn't let the subject drop. What could she tell him? That he had caught her while she was in the midst of once again entertaining the ridiculous fantasy that he was actually Shinichi? That she was once again hoping against all rational explanation that the brilliant high-school detective, the seventeen-year old young man that she had practically grown up with, had somehow been turned into this grade-schooler sitting across the table from her? It was impossible. The stuff of cheap, cheesy science fiction. It was completely stupid for her to keep feeling this way, and she knew it. But... it was better than believing that Shinichi had just abandoned her without a word. The only problem was, she had proof that her suspicions were false. Less than a month had passed since Shinichi had returned to her, even if it was only for a few hours, and at that time, she had even seen Shinichi and Conan in the same room together... ...except that Conan had been wearing a hospital mask, because he had a cold, and he hadn't acted at *all* like himself the entire time Shinichi was around... And Shinichi had only been around for less than a full day. Less than 24 hours, during which Ran had felt the brief joy of thinking that he had finally come back to her, to stay. But then he was gone again, without even saying goodbye, just like the first time. He was gone without a trace, leaving her heartbroken and alone at the restaurant where they were having dinner; where he had promised to tell her something very important. Not important enough for him to keep from running off again, apparently... But then who should show up at the restaurant out of the blue, but Conan. Conan, no longer wearing a hospital mask. Conan, acting like himself again... and looking almost as heartbroken as she felt. Conan, bearing the news that once again Shinichi had to leave. Conan, desperately pleading with her to wait for him. For Shinichi... And she couldn't help but wonder. There were so many times when she looked at Conan... and all she could see was Shinichi. Those times when she would look into the young 7-year-old face, beyond the too-large glasses... and see the same old eyes that she had grown up with her whole life. Eyes, bright blue, and sparkling with a fierce intelligence far beyond his apparent tender years. Like now. Sitting across the table from her, with half of his dessert on his face making him look even more like a little kid... even so, his penetrating, questioning gaze held her, refusing to let her go until she answered. These were the times when her impossible suspicions actually felt more real and tangible than any evidence or logic presented to the contrary. These were the times she wanted to reach out, take Conan by his shoulders, look him in the eye, and say, "I know that you are really Shinichi. Why won't you tell me the truth? Why won't you tell me what happened to you?" And, most importantly, "Why can't you come back to me?" Because she felt for certain that he *would* come back -- as himself, and not the diminutive child before her -- if only he could. But she couldn't ask Conan those things. Because she had asked before, and every single time she came close to even voicing her suspicions, a new piece of evidence would crop up, proving her wrong. Too-convenient evidence, always showing up at the perfect moment, proving to her once again that her belief that Conan and Shinichi were one and the same was nothing but pure foolishness. Why, then, did the evidence feel so wrong to her, and this... this *impossibility* feel so right? "Ran-nee-chan..." Conan's frown had softened to concern at her continued silence. She straightened and laughed self-consciously, brushing her hair away from her face. "Hey, what's with that look? I told you, I'm just thinking." Conan didn't buy her act for one moment, and she could tell. "Well..." he said quietly. "You must have been thinking about something really sad." The sadness in his own voice surprised her; it seemed to echo the exact feelings of her heart. Ran looked at Conan, then, and saw only Shinichi in the depths of his eyes. She held the boy's gaze for a long, lonely moment. *If I tell you that I'm thinking about Shinichi,* she thought. *If I tell you how badly I'm missing him right now... I'll get a phone call from him tonight. Shinichi will call and tell me that he's still working hard on a difficult case, but that he wanted to talk to me and cheer me up. And when I ask him how he knew I was feeling down, he'll say he just had a feeling...* "Why..." Conan paused, almost as if he was afraid to ask the question. "Why are you sad, Ran-nee-chan?" A small, melancholy smile turned up the corner of Ran's mouth. "If I seem sad," she lied, "it's only because of the math test I have tomorrow." Conan blinked, looking at her with obvious skepticism, so she widened her smile, and shrugged carelessly. "And... I was just thinking about how badly I'm going to do on it, because I'm sitting here eating ice cream with you instead of studying." "Oh." Conan didn't sound very convinced, but he smiled a little anyway. "Well, then, what are you waiting for? I guess you'd better go study." Ran nodded, relieved that she had successfully diverted Conan away from her true train of thought. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned dramatically. "You're right. If I sit around moping about it, I'll never get anything done." She stood and gathered up the dishes from the table, taking Conan's empty bowl right out from under his nose. He squawked in protest. "Oi! I wasn't finished with that." Raising an eyebrow at him, she plucked the spoon from his hand to add to her pile, eliciting yet another indignant squawk from the boy. "There's nothing left on your spoon," she said, "and I'm not going to let you lick the bowl clean, if that's what you wanted." Conan pouted, sticking out his lower lip, and Ran laughed in spite of herself. The illusion of Shinichi was shattered, leaving only a petulant little boy in his place, and she didn't know if that made her feel better, or worse. "So," she said, brushing those thoughts aside as she put the dishes into the sink to wash later. "Do you have any homework?" Conan shrugged, quickly recovering from his momentary sulk. "No," he said, standing up and wandering over to the television. He always liked to watch the news around this time, to see if any new mysterious crimes had been committed in the Tokyo area. "I finished everything at school today." Ran shook her head knowingly. Conan *never* brought home any homework. But then, how hard could the 1st grade be to a high school genius? *Argh, there I go again,* she thought irritably. If she wanted to improve her mood at all, she *had* to stop thinking like that. "Well then," she said, "I'll be in my room studying if you need anything." Conan was already absorbed in watching the news. "Okay," he said distractedly. And so, forcing all thoughts of Conan and Shinichi from her mind, Ran turned and walked down the hall to her room. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could gather her turbulent thoughts enough to focus on her school work. She actually did have a math test tomorrow, after all. ~*~ Sitting in front of the TV, Conan watched Ran walk down the hall out of the corner of his eye. Only after he saw her safely disappear into her room, and heard the click of her door closing, did he groan and slump forward forlornly, resting his forehead in his hands. "I don't know how much longer I can take this," he whispered. It was agony, being so close to Ran, and yet not being able to tell her who he really was. To know how she felt about him, and how he felt about *her*... To be so close, and yet so infinitely separate... It was driving him crazy. Normally, he could handle the stress of his unusual condition. Conan found that he was usually able to distract himself from his miserable and annoying plight by tagging along with Mouri on his cases, and solving the mysteries that were so often beyond the man's abilities. But Ran's father hadn't had a new case in over a week, and the dry spell in work had given Conan far too much time to dwell on his own problems. Being stuck in a 7-year-old body, and living with his girlfriend and her father being one of the biggest... He wanted to tell Ran the truth. He had *tried* to tell her a few weeks ago, when Ai had given him the antidote to the APTX- 4869 drug that had reduced him to this permanent state of childhood. With Ai's experimental antidote, he had finally, for the first time in months, been restored to his true 17-year-old self. Finally, he could be with Ran, not as Conan, but as Shinichi. He didn't know it at the time, but the antidote was only temporary. Ai had told him that there was a possibility that it was unstable, but he had ignored her, too caught up in the euphoria of being back to his normal self. And then, thinking that he had all the time in the world, he had wasted the precious moments he had in his own true form by solving a murder at a restaurant -- the very restaurant to which he had taken Ran out on a date, all so that he could tell her the truth. He had left Ran at the dining table, running after someone else's scream -- a mystery that was just begging to be solved -- telling her that he would be right back. When he returned, he was going to tell her. Everything. About the Dark Syndicate that had poisoned him, leaving him for dead. About how the poison, rather than killing him, had instead reversed the cell growth in his body, literally turning back the time on his physical clock, and shrinking him back into childhood. He was going to tell her about how he was forced to hide in plain sight in his child body, for fear that if the Dark Syndicate found out he was alive, they would come and kill him and anyone who knew about him and the drug. And he was going to tell Ran about how he couldn't tell her any of this before, because he was afraid of putting her life at risk, and he felt he couldn't protect her properly with his child body... But most important of all, he was going to tell her the truth of how he felt about her. He solved the murder mystery as usual, but by then, his time was up. To his surprise and horror, as he was detailing the last of the evidence to Inspector Megure, the bone-melting agony of the change came upon him. Not long after, he found himself in the men's room of the restaurant, shrinking back into Conan before he had the chance to return; before he had a chance to see Ran again; before he had the chance tell her *anything*... Thinking about it now... remembering... Conan could only hold his head in his hands, with the ache of unshed tears burning behind his eyes, and wish he had done things differently. *Why did I have to go off and solve that murder? I could have left it to the police. Inspector Megure and Officer Takagi were both there, they could have handled it... Maybe they could have handled it... Well... surely they would have figured it out eventually... *Why? Why didn't I just stay with Ran?* That was the problem with hindsight, he thought. When it came to crime, and murders, and the mysteries of human deceit, he was a master at uncovering the truth. When it came to himself, and his own personal relationships, he was as blind as a bat. What he wouldn't give to have that precious time with Ran again... Well, it was too late now. He was back in the same stupid situation he had been in before, only now it was worse, because he had tasted, if only for one day, the freedom of being himself again... and being himself, with Ran. Something he had taken horribly for granted before his unwilling transformation. He sighed, taking off his father's glasses, and rubbing his eyes with a small fist. One thing was certain -- dwelling on his mistakes was not going to make him feel better any time soon. Loosening the red bow tie around his neck, he looked down at the voice synthesizer that Dr. Agasa had hidden within the material, and double-checked to make sure the settings were calibrated for his... Shinichi's voice. In a half hour or so, he would pretend to go to bed, then slip out the second-story window, slide down the drain pipe to the street, and go to the phone booth a few blocks away. And then he would call Ran, and speak to her with Shinichi's voice, and hopefully make her feel better. After the scene at dinner, it didn't take a great detective to figure out why she was feeling so unhappy, after all. He knew exactly how she felt. Besides, talking to her like that over the phone with his own voice almost made him feel normal again. After checking his watch to plan what time he would fake getting tired, he settled back onto a cushion, and let his attention wander back to the evening news on the television. *Human interest story on northern fishing villages... boring. Prime minister discussing the economy...* Conan began idly flipping channels with the remote. *Boring... boring... sheesh, when did Tokyo suddenly become so crime-free?* he wondered irritably. His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Grateful for the distraction from the lack-luster news, he answered, only to find himself looking up in surprise at Inspector Megure and Officer Takagi. Looking up... that was one thing he'd always hated. Until his growth spurt in junior high, he had always been one of the shortest kids in his class. He had been so glad to literally outgrow that period of his life, and now he was right back to being the littlest of the little again. His annoyance at being so short, however, was dwarfed by the sudden surge of hope he gained at seeing the inspector. If the man was here to see Mouri, that might mean that there was a case for him to work on again. "Inspector Megure, Officer Takagi," Conan said, unable to conceal his genuine delight at seeing them. "Come in! Mouri- ojisan isn't here -- he's running an errand for a neighbor lady - - but he should be back any minute, and you're welcome to wait..." "Actually, Conan..." the inspector said hesitantly, and Conan blinked. The man's countenance was unusually grave. Officer Takagi, standing behind him, looked similarly upset. Conan immediately sobered, realizing that the inspector was here for something much more serious than simply asking help on a case. "What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?" The inspector cleared his throat. "Is... is Ran here? We need to talk to her... about a rather unusual matter that has just recently come to light." Conan didn't like the sound of that at all. But at least it didn't sound like an emergency. "She's studying," he said. "I'll go get her." He ran down the hall to her room and knocked on the door. "Come in, Conan." Conan opened the door a crack and peeked in to see Ran sitting at her desk, pouring over her math book. She looked up at him and smiled. "Did you need something?" Conan swallowed. "Inspector Megure and Officer Takagi are here. They want to talk to you about something." Ran blinked in surprise. "Me? I wonder what for." She pushed herself up from her chair, and followed Conan down the hall to the living area, where the policemen were waiting. When she saw their expressions, her face turned gray with sudden dread. "Inspector," she said. "What's wrong? My father, is he--" Megure held up his hand. "No, no," he assured her. "Mouri- kun is just fine, as far as we know. Conan just told us that he was running an errand." He and Officer Takagi exchanged a tense look, which did not go unnoticed by Conan or Ran. "We're actually here on a rather strange business..." Ran nodded, her relief over her father's safety apparent, but her eyes still reflecting worry over the policemen's anxious manner. "Please," she said, gesturing to the floor cushions as she knelt. "Sit down." When they were settled, she looked at Inspector Megure apprehensively. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Megure reached up and tugged on his thick moustache uncomfortably. "Well, it's like this, Ran. Ah, how should I begin?" He sighed heavily, before looking up to meet her eyes. "Do you remember several months ago, last spring, when you were at the amusement park on the night of the roller coaster murder?" Conan stiffened as an icy wind of fear blew right through his soul, chilling him to the bone. That night... that was the night of... He looked up at Ran, to see her looking right back at him, her eyes wide in her pale face. "Yes," she said, glancing back at the inspector. "Yes, of course I remember." "You were there with Shinichi Kudo, correct?" "Y... yes." "And did he walk you home that night?" Ran's face became, if possible, even more white. "No... no, he... he saw something suspicious in the shadows, and ran off after it, asking me to walk home by myself, and that was the last time I..." She broke off and swallowed hard. "Inspector, tell me, what is this all about?" She glanced at Conan again for a brief moment, fear and uncertainty written across her features. "Has... has something happened to Shinichi?" The inspector closed his eyes. "That is what we're trying to figure out, actually. You see..." He looked up and regarded her gravely. "A few hours ago, we received an anonymous call from a man who claims that, on that very night..." Conan felt his heart beating in his throat, thudding loudly in his ears as he heard the inspector speak. "On that very night... he murdered Shinichi Kudo, the high- school detective." ~*~ To be continued. Next: The Case of the Missing Detective File 02: The Death of Shinichi