Quotes

"Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there." - Will Rogers

"It takes seventeen muscles to smile and forty-three to frown." - Anonymous

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Mahatma Gandhi

"It's not about how many years you live for. It's about how you live those years." - Anonymous

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Detective Conan - First 1008 words or so...

Hey guys, remember the story I just told you's I'm working on?

Well, here it is! (just the first bit :D)

*UPDATE* It takes place after the Lupin special, but instead it is as if Lupin didn't save him from having to check in with the embassy at the end of the episode.
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Ch1:

Shinichi Kudo, alias Conan Edogawa, stepped out the cab into the rancid air of New York City, closely followed by Ran and Kogoro. On any other day, he might be enjoying the nostalgia of the grey tiles beneath his feet, the shouts of taxi drivers in the air.  But today wasn’t any other day, so instead the dysfunctional family walked up to the extravagant building and waited outside the glass doors.

The small boy was fretting out of his mind. There were repercussions to every event, Conan had unthinkingly caused another - by hijacking a plane to save his beloved. Sweet, but stupid. And now they were entering the embassy, to have his file checked for validation. What if the records turned something up, and the B.O. caught wind of it? What if they found out the true identity of Heisei Holmes? Ran…she was in danger!

Two guards were already waiting for their arrival, obviously there to escort them. Conan waited impatiently as Ran opened the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet just like the seven year old he pretended to be. Kogoro, as always, walked confidently through the entrance corridor, taking the situation in his stride. His bespectacled protégé trailed behind him uncertainly.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was really up the creek with this one. Without the paddle.

Without even really thinking about it, Conan reached up and grasped Ran’s hand. She looked down, surprised at the sudden gesture, but he avoided her gaze stubbornly with a blush painted across his face; he needed the physical contact more than he cared to admit.

The guards still followed quietly behind them a few paces back, every now and then interrupting his guardians’ conversations with directions to wherever they were going.

Yes, Conan was in deep this time. He threw a surreptitious glance back at the two men that flanked himself, Ran and Kogoro.

They had a slightly bored look on their faces, if one looked past their dark glasses and suits. Escorting Conan and his guardians was probably a last minute decision that took them off their break. Either that or the American Embassy’s employees often had coffee stains on their fingers and crumbs on their sleeves.

Conan was brought from his thoughts as Ran squeezed their joined hands, as she spoke with her father. He looked up at her and blinked, then smiled softly to himself at the way she worried her lip with her teeth. She had done that since they were children.

After a pause, Conan squeezed back, marvelling at the size difference between their hands. Ran’s were slim but calloused from her karate, while Conan’s were tiny, enveloped in her gentle hold. She looked down at him, suddenly realising that he was looking at her and smiled brightly, just as he knew she would. Always trying to make others feel better. He himself might have been fooled if he had not grown up with her. As it was, he could see the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead and her worrying lips.

“Ran-neechan?” Conan ventured, tugging on her hand to get her attention. They stopped walking and she looked down at him with concerned eyes.

“What is it Conan-kun? Do you need something?” She said.

Conan looked around uncomfortably and mumbled something about the bathroom.

Actually, he needed to contact his father and make sure his records were in order - it wouldn’t do for anything to raise a red flag for the authorities, he had already slipped in forgetting to forge a passport (he hadn’t foreseen having to leave Japan when he made the arrangements).

Ran smiled in understanding and was about to veer off their intended course towards the lavatory before she found her path blocked by one of the guards.

“Miss, the boy must be questioned immediately.” The first guard explained, in heavily-accented Japanese. Ran glowered at him, but the full force of it was tempered by her weariness from the past few days’ events. The second guard rolled his eyes at his partner’s brutishness and instead bent down to Conan’s level.

“You can just hold out, can’t you boya?” he said, ruffling the shrunken detective’s hair and smiling apologetically.

He appeared to have a soft spot for children; perhaps he had some of his own.

Conan nodded and beamed in reply, with a small “Un!”

Their fluency with Japanese also explained why they were chosen to escort the small, the detective thought to himself.

A few turns later, and they found themselves before large, oak double-doors. Conan took the handle in his small grip and pushed.

The dark wood opened swiftly and silently under his touch, hinges obviously well-oiled. That fact alone probably showed that this room was important in the embassy. A theory which was solidified by the lavish furnishings that graced the room, and the well-kept carpet. Not many people came inside here; that much was easy to deduce.

A swivel-chair in the far back of the room turned around towards them, revealing a balding, middle-aged man with a waistcoat that grew a little too tight over his waistline.

Conan regarded him coolly, taking in his greying hair and polished spectacles. The tailored suit suggested presence and wealth, while the ring on his finger showed he was married. So he was a well-dressed husband; an antique collector, going by the look of that pocket watch.

A small photo adorned his desk, sparse but for that frame and a few legal papers. The personal touch meant that this room was most probably his office.

This man was in a high position of authority, the large room testifying that much and more that Conan’s overworked mind didn’t bother to process. Surely this man wouldn’t usually be bothered by a job as small as checking a child’s legal records?

Something must have been smelt out - Conan’s blood ran cold. What if he’d failed the checks? He couldn’t bluff his way out of this one with a few words and a childish grin.
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Ta da! You like? Any ideas?
~Shining Sunlight~

1 comment:

  1. Maybe you should explain when it's set?

    Just saying.

    Also, very good! :D (not in a talkative mood; my hands are freeeezing...)

    ReplyDelete

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