Work Text:
Shinichi knew he was being a bit of a brat, but six years of acting like a child tended to do that to someone.
“Brat, I swear to god if you don’t get the fuck up right now, I will walk outside, grab a bucket of snow and shove it up your ass!” Otchan’s morning grumpiness was something he really did not want to deal with, but on the other hand, snow up his ass meant his balls would be cold and—
Shinichi caught his train of thought and shuddered. He was thinking like Otchan, which was not good under any circumstance. Circumstance, circumcision…
“Goddamnit, I hate going through puberty again,” Shinichi murmured into his pillow.
“If you’ve got time to think dirty, you’ve got time to get up and set the table,” Otchan sneered and jerked Shinichi up by his collar.
“It’s cold,” he whined, clinging to his huge blanket. It was a fluffy red heavy thing, gifted to him by Ayumi’s mother when he’d been hospitalized following the Black Organization's takedown. Otchan tore it off of him and helped him stand up straight. Eventually Shinichi was able to stumble out of his room, the room that had been Ran’s before she’d moved out and Otchan had decided that Edogawa Conan couldn’t sleep in a futon on the floor for the rest of his life. Little signs of Ran remained; small scribbles in the corners from a bored elementary schooler, indents on the walls and floor left by her overwhelming strength and every once in a while Shinichi would find money hidden in little cracks, hidden by a child desperate to keep her family afloat.
Washing his face in the bathroom, he rubbed his eyebags. He wished he had a handle on makeup to cover them up but no matter how many times Kuroba tried to teach him, he just kept on making a mess of it all.
Shinichi trudged into the living room after drying off and began setting the table. The quiet whir of the flames on the stove came to a stop and the smell of miso soup entered his nostrils. Realizing he’d left his phone charging, he rushed to get it and by the time he was back Otchan was already seated. He didn’t really pay attention to what his guardian shoveled onto his plate, just shoving what was in front of him into his mouth.
Opening Twitter, he switched from his personal account, dedicated to mystery novels and soccer, to the agency’s business account. Every day, dozens of people would message and mention the account in hopes of getting a case solved. Sometimes he just handed off the requests to Otchan, others could be solved through a mere Twitter thread. People didn’t usually inquire about life threatening situations to be solved over the internet, but there were a few. Just as he was about to click off, a notification popped up.
shira loves kakashi @0hayme1 ◦ 1s
Replying to @k1sunek0
@mouridetectiveagency what’s your opinion on this?
Tapping on it, he scrolled up and looked over the post it was replying to.
🍥🍅🌸 @k1sunek0 ◦ 10m
My irl set up this cool set and it looks great but I’m getting a bad feeling for some reason
The person had linked it with a picture of a stage set that made him raise his eyebrows the second he saw it.
sleeping kogoro ☑️ @mouridetectiveagency ◦ 1s
Replying to @0hayme1 and @k1sunek0
Either your friend made a huge mistake with the flooring or they’re trying to harm you. The wood would collapse if a mere toddler stood on it. Please contact the authorities and be careful. Hopefully your friend did this by accident. - Admin Freeloader
“I replied to a tweet about a stage set with rotting wood. If the Inspector calls you, it’ll be because of that,” Shinichi mumbled after struggling to swallow a particularly large mouthful of rice. Otchan nodded, already resigned to the fact that their day may have already started with a murder.
Just as he was about to put his phone away and dig into the grilled mackerel, another notification appeared.
[Haibara sent you an image]
Shinichi sighed, knowing he couldn’t ignore her. Not that he wanted to. He shook his head, ignoring the judgmental look on Otchan’s face. It was too early in the morning to think about Haibara. Despite his thoughts, he quickly typed a response.
Haibara
Really?
Mean girls?
I’m surprised you even know that reference
Of course I do
I went to school with Sonoko
How could I not
Makes sense
Why are you even quoting a movie from 2004
Because YOU are taking ME shopping
Uhhhhh how about no
It’s either this or buying me the new limited edition Fusae bag
You know
The one you PROMISED to get me in exchange for diffusing that bomb
Remember that?
…
Shopping it is
Do you want to meet up at the fashion district?
No
You’ll just get sidetracked by some crime
I’ll come with Masumi-san
I’ll let Otchan know
“Sera’s coming in today,” he told the older man. Otchan hummed and checked his phone.
“Yeah, looks like it. Bet she’s stumped and needs my help,” the mustached man smiled triumphantly.
“Maybe in your dreams,” Shinichi rolled his eyes. “She probably wrapped the case up ages ago.”
“You think Ran would forgive me if I fired her girlfriend?” Otchan scowled.
“Please,” the preteen waved the question away. “Like you would risk her wrath. And anyway, it’s your fault for hiring every former high school detective we know.” The man grumbled at his ward’s comment, knowing it was true. He could have stayed working by himself but instead he’d hired Hattori, Sera and Hakuba as a way to expand the business. It had been a risk, since there had been a time where the money they’d raked in had barely been enough for one man, but Shinichi’s magnetism to crime and the high profile nature of the agency following the takedown of the organization had everyone receive a steady monthly paycheck. Hakuba had left once he graduated college to become a police officer but Hattori and Sera stayed, citing their dislike for following rigid rules. Privately, Shinichi thought they’d kept the job just to mess with him. “By the way, Haibara’s coming with her to drag me shopping.”
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Otchan snapped at him.
“Huh?” For some reason, Shinichi felt like he’d been attacked.
“You’ve got a date and you’re sitting here in your pajamas! Go change!”
“It’s not a date!” Shinichi shouted. Otchan looked at him like he was stupid, and it made the boy angry. Haibara didn’t like him like that, and she never would. He stormed off to his room and locked the door.
It took a while to choose what he was going to wear but he eventually settled on a pair of black slim-fit chinos and a white turtleneck. He was originally going to wear a hoodie but he knew Haibara’s fashion sense would criticize his outfit, so he went for something a little bit more formal. He didn’t think it would snow, so he chose his camel overcoat instead of his usual teal parka.
“You’re taking an awfully long time choosing what to wear if this isn’t a date,” Otchan’s voice drawled through the door. Shinichi ignored him, and wondered why he was making such a big deal of hanging out with Haibara. They were friends…just friends.
He groaned and wished the thoughts away. He couldn’t think about strange things like that. He would have been an adult by now, had life been normal. He should have been able to repress idiotic hormones. Yet there he was, wanting to bash his head against the wall.
“Oi brat, they’re here,” Otchan called out and Shinichi took a deep breath to steady himself. He would be fine, he told himself in his head as he grabbed some money he’d been given by a client who refused to take it back.
When he opened the door he found Haibara dressed up in a white turtleneck sweater dress, tight black leggings and a red parka. He found himself staring at her lips, which had the slightest tint of lip balm put on.
“Woah, you’re matching huh?” Sera piped up from behind her cousin. The twelve-year-olds ignored her as Shinichi put on his shoes. “Have fun you two,” she called after them as Haibara led him out the door.
“Be safe out there you two! Keep the crime to nonviolent levels!” Otchan reminded them. Walking out the building Shinichi began to grumble.
“I can’t help it though…” Shinichi whined as he kicked a lumpy block of snow. It burst and had it not been for the Professor’s genius, his shoe would have been soaked.
“You could just call the police and walk away like a normal person,” Haibara suggested.
They entered the train station in silence. Not the awkward kind, more along the lines of basking in the presence of someone else. It reminded him of the early days of his life as Edogawa Conan, when Haibara and him would curl up in the Professor’s living room and drink whatever they could get their hands on. Some days it would be coffee, iced when it was warm out and hot when the weather was cold. When they’d run out of coffee, they’d switch to tea. During the summertime they’d make lemonade, smoothies and milkshakes. During winter it was hot chocolate.
On rare occasions they’d pull out milk or soda, but if nothing appealing was available, they’d drink. Shinichi knew that they were both underage in body and in mind but drinking made him feel like himself again. Haibara would drink on and on and on, trying to drown out bad memories and make her throat burn. Shinichi was impulsive and a lightweight, and during those moments he really did understand why Otchan drank so much even though he knew it was killing him.
They always made sure the Professor wasn’t home to catch them. They didn’t want to hurt him, because the man had basically helped raise Shinichi, had kept Conan alive and was the first adult outside of Akemi-san and maybe Akai-san to care about Haibara. He went through enough trouble dealing with them, they had no desire to burden him even more. It was a surprise they hadn’t been caught, especially with how often Akai-san would bug the Professor’s house. Maybe he’d refrained after hearing the aftermath of Haibara’s nightmares, Shinichi wouldn’t fault him if he had.
When the organization had been taken down and the secret of who he really was came out, Otchan had put a stop to their shenanigans.
“I don’t want you to suffer like I have. I took my first sip of beer from my dad’s can when I was 12 and I haven’t stopped since. Unlike me, you two have people who know what this looks like and want to stop you. I know that by now you’re both almost 20 mentally, but please, just listen to me this one time okay?” In his effort to save the two children, Otchan swore he’d stop drinking and smoking. It had been hard for him, but watching the man struggle so earnestly for his sake made Shinichi stop putting himself at risk too. For Haibara, who wasn't as close to Otchan, it hadn’t been enough, so Akai-san gave her his promise to stop smoking.
“He told me he’s been smoking since he was 15, ever since Tsutomu-san disappeared. Tsutomu-san had left a pack of cigarettes and well…the rest is history,” Haibara had explained to Shinichi on a particularly depressing day. “He said he wouldn’t let me die, not when he knew Onee-chan would rise up from her cremated ashes and murder him for breaking his promise.” Personally, the miniature detective thought Akai-san was using Akemi-san as an excuse, that he’d gotten attached to his cousin for reasons completely unrelated to his guilt.
The train screeched to a stop and shook Shinichi out of his stupor. He followed Haibara inside and sat next to her as she hummed the tune to Butter by BTS. He found himself leaning his forehead against the window, letting the murmurs of his surroundings soak into the pores of his skin. Shinichi could smell Haibara’s plum shampoo and conditioner, her lavender body wash and rose scented lotion. A sudden agonizing thought dropped into his head: Who was she dressing up for? Oh sure, her clothes were pretty standard, but the way she smelled was heavenly in a way she usually didn’t smell. She never smelt bad, but for some reason Shinichi senses were hyper aware of her scent and now the terrifying idea that she’d done this on purpose lurked in his mind.
He knew it wasn’t him. What reason would there be to do all of this for him, who she saw almost everyday? Haibara never gave any hint that she wanted to date him, so it couldn’t be Shinichi on principle. Maybe it was Higo, who had found out about her true identity by accident all those years ago. Haibara had always been a little too interested in Higo and it irked him that now the two texted on a constant basis. In fact, he was sure that if he opened his eyes and peeked over her shoulder, he’d find her laughing with the soccer player. There was nothing wrong with Higo, Shinichi had tried to find it and came up empty, but the man didn’t sit right with him.
“They’re the same as you and me. He ain’t lettin’ how she look get in the way of connectin’ with her,” Hattori had explained after Shinichi had vented to him after a case. It made sense but at the same time Shinichi felt the need to protest that Hattori and him were different.
Haibara tapped on his elbow, and Shinichi blinked his eyes open right as the doors to the train screeched open. He followed his friend out and they entered the fashion district. The district was made up out of several stores, connecting into one building, like a mall, except the building stretched multiple city blocks. The stores weren’t limited to fashion, but due to the number of clothing brands that inhabited the district, the name had stuck.
“I’m guessing you’re present shopping for your family, right?” Shinichi asked her. Haibara nodded.
Ever since the Black Organization's takedown, the reveal that Haibara’s mother was Mary-san’s sister and Haneda-san’s engagement to Yumi-san, the family had started to celebrate the western version of Christmas. They wouldn’t go to church, as the family was smattered with agnostics, atheists, and buddhists. Still, they’d decided to give presents, in a way to bring the family together after years of being broken. He knew that Akai-san still had the keychain with the english phrase “dating tips: don’t” hanging next to his keys. The previous year, Haibara had given presents to the Professor and the Detective Boys. The kids proudly attached their matching boba tea keychains to their bags while Shinichi kept it in his bag as some sort of lucky charm. The Professor had gotten a nice coat, because Haibara was biased.
“This place sells self-care kits. Mary-san doesn’t like strangers touching her so I can’t get her an all expenses free trip to a spa like I did with Yumi-san,” Haibara explained as they swung the door of a store filled to the brim with products for women.
Whoever owned the place was big on incense and oils, Shinichi gathered from the overwhelming smell that enveloped them. If he thought about it, the products he saw, like face masks and bath salts, even the make-up sections with lipstick and eyeshadow, could and probably were used by men. It didn’t matter to him, but considering how the shop was overtly marketing to women, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d heard something had gone down in the store.
“Do you think Mary-san would prefer getting make up instead?” Haibara posed a question.
“How would I know? She’s your aunt,” Shinichi raised an eyebrow. Haibara groaned. “Oh, you want me to psychoanalyze her!” He shook his head. “You could have just said that! I’d say get her the self-care kit. Mary-san’s a stubborn woman, getting a kit by herself would give the impression she’s stressed and needs to unwind. She doesn’t want to be seen as weak, so I don’t think she’s gotten one of those herself. She’s got plenty of make-up already, she doesn’t need to let go of her pride to get it after all.” Shinichi finished his tangent, and smiled. Haibara smiled back, and her happiness seemed to reach her eyes as she tilted her head a little towards her right shoulder. Shinichi didn’t know why he was keeping note of such trivial things, but he didn’t care.
Haibara went to the isle with all the kits and squatted down, looking intensely at her options. Shinichi’s phone buzzed from his pocket and he took it out to see a message from Ran.
Ran
I heard someone is going out on a date ( ^ω^ )
First of all it’s not a date
Second of all who fucking snitched
My girlfriend is not a snitch
Of course it was Sera
Hush
So you two just HAPPENED to wear the same color turtleneck
UHM YEAH?
And technically Haibara’s wearing a turtleneck sweater dress
You know
Her usual style?
She wears RED ones not WHITE
Look
I didn’t match with her on purpose
And she’d never match with me
So it’s clearly a coincidence
I don’t even like her like that so I don’t know what you’re talking about
Conan
No you know what let me pull out your old name
Shinichi
Can we not
Shut up let me speak ( *｀ω´)
I’m not going to talk about whether she likes you or not
But there is no way I’m letting you lie to yourself
I can’t believe this is the same dude that had a crush on me from the moment he met me when we were 4 （−＿−；）
See?
If I liked her I would know by now!
No you’re older and more dishonest |(￣3￣)|
Toddler Shinichi would never disappoint me like this
Where is that precocious child
You’re not even being a tsundere
It’s just straight up being block headed
Sorry Ran but it’s not like that
I can’t think about it
Don’t make me ruin the friendship I have with her
It won’t ruin anything
But alright
I’ll stop pushing
FOR NOW
The next time I come over to the agency we are going to have a chat
There’s nothing to talk about
But fine
“I’m done,” Haibara piped up. While he had been texting Ran, she’d picked out her gift, gone up to the cash register and bought it along with a pack of Tony Moly sheet masks. She deposited a peach-colored shopping bag into his hands and Shinichi quickly stuffed his phone back into his pocket.
“Where to next?” He asked as they exited.
“The toy shop. I want to get Yuka-chan something other than clothes,” Haibara said with a glint in her eye.
Shinichi agreed with her decision not to get Yuka-chan more clothes. He had seen the amount of garments that had been gifted when Haibara’s first cousin once removed was born. The amount had been too much in his opinion. Haneda-san was a bit overbearing as a parent and plenty of people were more than happy to give the man cute outfits to dress his daughter in, including Shinichi’s own mother. Haibara had gifted Yumi-san and Haneda-san a photo album, a polaroid camera and a large amount of film when Yuka-chan was born. She instructed the couple to capture every moment, which her cousin followed enthusiastically. The baby had lots of toys of course, but not any from Haibara, so Shinichi guessed she wanted to put her hat in the ring.
They entered the colorful and vibrant store, their ears getting filled with the sounds of whining children and scolding parents. Shinichi followed Haibara through the aisles, in awe of the sheer number of goods. There were traditional games like kendama and daruma otoshi, along with toys from his childhood such as Tamagotchi and Beyblades. He spied figurines of Kamen Yaiba and various kits for building Gundam models that he knew Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi would love.
“Hey why don’t you get her one of those,” he pointed at the miniature shogi set they had just passed.
“She’s too young for that.”
“Oh…right,” Shinichi bit his lip, feeling a little bit dumb. “I guess the suggestion for a book wouldn’t work either?” Haibara gave him a blank stare. “Okay, message understood. She is way too young for books.”
The next aisle had science tools for kids and Haibara stopped to look at them, as though she were seriously considering giving her first cousin once removed of 6 months a 12 year old’s chemistry kit. Luckily—or unluckily depending on how he thought about it—she moved on before Shinichi could tease her. Eventually they made their way to the back of the store, where various plush toys and cute huggable knick-knacks were on display.
“Should I get her a big plushie or one that she can carry around?” Haibara asked him. Shinichi didn’t know how to answer. He hadn’t been a child who played around with toys. At most, he’d do puzzles, play around with rubik's cubes or force Sonoko and Ran to partake in mystery-related board games. If what he knew about his partner was anything to go by, she had even less of a childhood than he had. He had something at least, it was just that he wasn’t what people would call a normal kid. Haibara never even got the chance to be normal, even if she wanted to. He wondered if young Miyano Shiho had a stuffed animal, or if she’d remained starved of happiness in every single aspect of her existence.
“Something she can carry around,” he eventually settled. With that he zoned out, letting Haibara wander about in the aisle uninterrupted, as he settled himself into the lap of a stuffed bunny that was larger than him. He hoped management wouldn’t come in and make him get up, so he didn’t let himself drift off. He took out his phone for the umpteenth time that day and took a picture of the little bunnies that surrounded him.
Hattori
Would you let them munch on your toes
yES
NO HESITATION
EAT ME ALIVE LITTLE BUNNIES
Where r u btw
Shopping
With Haibara
On a date huh (ᵔᴥᵔ)
First Otchan, then Sera, then Ran, AND NOW YOU??
Can’t I hang out with my friend in peace?
No (´ω`)
I hate all of you
No one respects me anymore
ur not even 5 feet, wut is there 2 respect
wutz that english song
Goes like
“I’m 5 foot sumthin and I’m royalty short king mama hey”
I am blocking you
Nooooooooooo
mr. tiny pls 4give me
Maybe if you type like a normal person
And stop calling me tiny
🖕
OH SHIT GTG
MY TARGET IS ON THE MOVE
Don’t tell Otchan I distracted you from work
I MAKE NO PROMISES
“Edogawa-kun, I have procured the target,” Haibara announced, stuffing a gray stuffed elephant in his face. Her triumphant face made him laugh and he let her take his free hand and drag him to the cash register. As the worker scanned the item, Shinichi let his thumb rub against Haibara’s palm until she pulled it away in order to pay. Shinichi took the white shopping bag and they both headed out the door.
“So…what’s left?” He asked.
“I already got tickets to a concert that Masumi-san would like, along with a list of thoroughly background checked babysitters since Haneda-san can’t step out of the shogi scene forever and Yumi-san’s definitely continuing her job as a cop. I just need to get Shuichi-san something, but I’m not sure on what.” Haibara seemed worn out.
“You got him one of those glasses for drinking whiskey with his initials engraved last year, right?”
“Yeah, I ordered one on Etsy. I’d get him some good alcohol this year but no one’s going to sell that to a 12 year old so I’m stuck,” she frowned before her face suddenly lit up. “Wait, he was complaining a few days ago that there’s been a shortage of Stop The Bleed kits so he hasn’t been able to get one shipped to him!”
“Stop The Bleed, that’s a program backed by the Department of Homeland Security of America that trains civilians to conduct life-saving medical procedures. Akai-san wouldn’t need those types of kits, right?” Shinichi questioned.
“It doesn’t hurt to carry around that type of stuff, we both carry similar kits don’t we? It’s just that we built our kits from scratch while Shuichi-san’s used to buying a kit or getting one from the government,” Haibara explained, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Well, there is a new self-defense store that opened up here so we could check that out,” he offered. Haibara looked ecstatic at the news so he began to walk towards the shop, with Haibara latched onto the back of his jacket.
“Isn’t there a risk that a murderer might use something from stores like these to kill?” Haibara whispered as they pulled the door open.
“Yeah but it’s Tokyo, the hotbed of violent crimes. People want to defend themselves, so you can’t really take places like these away.”
The two preteens ignored the strange looks they got from customers and employees, who had to be wondering why such small children would be among them. One employee was brave enough to approach them.
“Hey kids, do you need anything?” the muscular man asked gruffly. Shinichi looked at Haibara, who knew about medical procedures and what Akai-san wanted better than he did.
“Are there any trauma kits with a windlass tourniquet and hemostatic gauze?”
“Yes,” the man responded after a pause. Shinichi let out a sigh of relief, glad that there had been no argument. They followed behind the worker, who looked a little bit dumbfounded. “What type of tourniquet are you looking for?”
“Are there any Combat Application Tourniquets?” Haibara’s query made the man stop.
“You do know what those are used for, right?”
“Of course I do,” his friend snarked. “I’m buying this stuff for my cousin, okay? It’s not like I’ll be using it myself.” She crossed her arms and huffed, causing the employee to grumble.
“Fine. Yes, we have them. The States started shipping them to us when Japan hosted the World Sports Games. They still won’t ship them individually though. If you were looking for them online it would have been a dead end.”
“Yeah well, when doesn’t America hog all the good stuff?” Shinichi muttered. The man smirked and then stopped.
“Here you go, take your pick.” With that, the man walked away.
“Your parents definitely got us those tourniquets illegally,” Haibara hissed.
“Hey, in my defense, they did that without asking me! And anyway, who cares! We’ve saved lives with those things,” he argued. Haibara’s brow furrowed as she looked through the kits.
“My question is how the police didn’t question us having equipment available only to Americans.”
“Maybe they didn’t recognize the type? There are tourniquets in Japan, just not good ones.”
“I think they let us get away with it,” Haibara murmured. In his head, Shinichi conceded that she was probably right. The MPD let Edogawa Conan and his merry band of murder magnets get away with a lot of things that they should have gotten written up for. Then, his phone suddenly began to ring.
“Wait for me out by the front,” Haibara said, waving him away. He took out his phone, saw the caller ID was Otchan and pressed the answer button.
“What?” Shinichi snapped.
“Just wanted to let you know that the case you solved this morning on Twitter, it ended up being a case of attempted murder,” Otchan answered.
“You could have just texted me!”
“The victim wants to say thank you or whatever, so I’m handing the phone over to her. Be nice.”
“Fine. I will, I will.”
“Hello? Am I talking to Freeloader?” A young woman, whose voice was shaky and distraught, spoke through the phone.
“Yep, that’s me.”
“Sorry, I don’t know your name, outside of your online nickname and you being the Kid Killer but like…thanks. If it weren’t for you, I would have died. Sorry for interrupting your day out or whatever hahaha…” she laughed awkwardly.
“Stay safe, alright?” Shinichi asked her, albeit a bit childishly. He tried to draw on Conan, but failed somewhat.
“Okay,” she sniffed and he could hear shuffling in the background as she handed the phone back to Otchan.
“Alright brat, go back to that date of yours. Girls don’t like being ignored like that,” the private detective snickered.
“Oh shut the hell up—”
Before he could finish yelling at his guardian, the phone line went dead. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Haibara carrying a large bag, making her way towards him. He had no doubt she had gotten things for Shinichi and herself, alongside the gift. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he wondered how long he could carry the heavy bag his friend was about to hand over to him in addition to the other things he was holding.
“Okay, let’s go,” Haibara told him in a soft tone, one that didn’t constitute the situation and maybe that was why it melted his heart more than it should have.
“Where to?”
Before she could answer, both of their phones buzzed.
Beika Town Terrors
Ayumi: Why did Maria-chan just send me a photo of Ai-chan & Conan-kun hanging out at the fashion district together?
Ayumi: Do you two have anything to tell us?
Mitsuhiko: DON’T TELL ME
Mitsuhiko it’s not what you think
Genta: You sure about that?
Haibara: Tsuburaya-kun, Yoshida-san, are you two still hanging onto your feelings?
Ayumi: No! It’s just…
Hard to get over your first crush?
Ayumi: Yeah…
I get it
It was hard for me to let go of Ran
But you guys figured out who we were out on your own
You three know why Haibara and I will never reciprocate any advances
Genta: Hey keep me out of this
Genta: The only time I’ve EVER been attracted to either of you is the first time I met Haibara-nee
Haibara: Stop calling me Haibara-nee
Genta: You’re always telling me to respect my elders though
Haibara: Kojima-kun you better run the next time I see you
Genta: Hehehe I’m joking just joking
Mitsuhiko: Okay, I calmed down.
Mitsuhiko: Sorry, Conan-kun, Haibara-san.
Mitsuhiko: It’s just…
Hormones?
Mitsuhiko: …
Mitsuhiko: Yes.
Haibara: It’s natural for you to feel this way
I’ve gone through this once so I get it
You get angry without helping it
Get jealous really easily
Say things you don’t mean
But we’ll be there for you
All three of you
Ayumi: Conan-kun’s inner dad came out again
Genta: Yo it’s snowing like a truck ton outside
Genta: You two haven’t left the fashion district yet right?
Haibara: No, I just finished shopping
Haibara: Also, to clear things up, I forced Edogawa-kun to come because I needed someone to carry my bags
It was this or buy her a designer bag
I went with manual labor instead of emptying out my pockets
Mitsuhiko: I see.
Ayumi: Ohhhhhh
Genta: Seriously stay inside of the district
Genta: It’s getting dangerous out there
Mitsuhiko: The forecast didn’t say anything about snow today
Ayumi: When in doubt, blame climate change
Haibara: Agreed
Okay
But if it looks like it’s going to let up we’ll leave
“Climate change sucks,” Shinichi groaned. “Back when I was a kid, Tokyo would actually be pretty dry and sunny during the winter. It was never this cold and it barely ever snowed,” he complained.
“Back then, I was living in America. Where I was, there would be snow. Not gigantic amounts of snow, but still a good amount. It was always really cold during the winter, it would drop below freezing constantly. The world may be ending but at least it’s looking pretty while doing it,” Haibara said in an airy tone, the kind that made it hard to tell whether she was being serious or not, so he ignored her.
“Let’s get something to drink,” he offered as they walked among the crowd.
“Will you be paying?”
“Ugh, fine. My wallet’s in the left hand back pocket of my jeans,” he grumbled. Haibara hesitated, but seeing that his arms were full, she slid two fingers in and pulled it out. Shinichi shivered, realizing what had happened, but his friend was already walking to the cafe. He was going to ignore the warm feeling he was getting, for the sake of his sanity. Then, he quickly caught up to Haibara, who seemed to be blushing, most likely out of embarrassment.
“Hot chocolate or something fancy?” Shinichi asked as they waited in line.
“Hot cocoa while we’re inside. If the snow lets up, we can get something fancy to take with us,” Haibara replied.
“You sound like Sonoko,” he remarked.
“She’s the only one with a fashion sense around here, maybe she’s rubbing onto me in more ways than one,” she snarked back. Shinichi snorted.
“Okay then, which is better on hot chocolate: marshmallows or whipped cream? Personally I prefer whipped cream.” Shinichi leaned against Haibara as he spoke, who made no attempt to push him off. He did feel her get a little bit tense and he wondered whether he should let up, but decided to stay put.
“Marshmallows,” she answered. Her eyes, that seemed to lose their blue color and turned more and more green as the years passed, were locked staring at the tiled pale blue floor.
“Why?”
“…Onee-chan would make it that way.”
Shinichi could have been nice, could have been understanding, but there was a voice in his head that sounded a little too much like Hattori that told him to tease her.
“That’s not a valid reason,” he whined. Haibara shoved him off of her, but then she leaned right back in, her breath tickling his ear.
“Fuck you,” she whispered. Shinichi threw his head back and laughed, causing Haibara to blush in embarrassment and the rest of the establishment to give them the stink eye.
“Next!” The lady at the counter called out and the two friends stepped up to place their order.
“Two cups of hot chocolate, one with whipped cream, one with marshmallows,” Haibara recited.
“Dine-in or to go?”
“Dine-in.”
The woman nodded and handed them their order number.
“I’m going to go find us a seat. My hands are getting tired of carrying all this stuff,” Shinichi told Haibara, who gave him a thumbs up.
Searching the cafe, he found a booth in a corner that was free and deposited the multitude of bags onto the table. Sitting down onto the maroon leather, he decided to put the gifts underneath the table, because he was severely lacking in space to rest his arms. After a while, Haibara came back with two mugs of hot chocolate and carefully set them on the table. She took her seat across from him, and visibly relaxed, clearly appreciating the moment to rest her feet. At first, they didn’t speak, content with washing away their fatigue with the hot liquid settling into their stomachs.
“Do you ever think about how Santa Claus is a grown man who stalks every single child, breaks into their homes and then decides to tell them they’re good or evil? When I was a kid, I didn't believe in Santa because my parents didn’t think that would do me any good. But there was that part of me that thought, if he was real, then he was a criminal, because who else would come through the chimney and eat cookies in the living room?” Shinichi piped up after a long sip.
“My handlers never told me about Santa, and when Onee-chan tried I shut her down because it didn’t seem realistic to me. Now I know she wanted to give me a semblance of a normal childhood but…” Haibara trailed off. Before Shinichi could swoop in to try and change the subject, she began to speak again. “In British traditions, Santa leaves presents at the foot or even under the child’s bed. Back in the old days, they’d leave him brandy to drink instead of milk. Nightmarish, isn’t it?” She shuddered.
“Apparently the tradition began when Norse children started to leave food out for Santa’s reindeer. How it turned into giving the man himself food is mind boggling but what is history if not intentions getting twisted over time?” The hypothetical question hung in the air.
“They should have just cut off a piece of the Christmas tree. Plenty of people donate them to zoos so animals can be fed,” Haibara smiled in the way only animals could get her to smile. It made Shinichi upset, that creatures who didn’t know her could bring her such happiness when she’d never make such an expression for him, who had been by her side for quite some time. “One day, when Mary-san was in one of her moods, she started to talk about how if anything were to go wrong, we could always eat the Christmas tree. I don’t doubt we could, but I’m not eager to try.” Haibara leaned back in her chair, looking conflicted. He didn’t know how to assure her that it wasn’t her fault, that Mary-san had been shrunken by the original drug, because Haibara already knew that. They both knew her guilt wasn’t rational, but it hurt watching Mary-san struggle because her younger body could not handle the medication she needed. Shinichi decided to move on from the somber mood.
“You know how Okaa-san is half-white?” He doubted she didn’t, but it was best to build up to the conversation.
“It’s what helped her break into Hollywood,” Haibara muttered. “Her auburn hair and blue eyes with Asian features made her seem exotic, and the American acting scene couldn’t pass her up.”
“You’d think we’d celebrate Christmas the western way with how western my parents are, but we didn’t. I mean we did, but starting in the 3rd year of elementary school things changed. I guess they liked the Japanese tradition of Christmas being for couples, which makes sense given how madly in love they were with each other.” He took another sip, careful to keep his tongue from burning. “Technically, Christmas isn’t even supposed to be a religious holiday, much less a romantic one. The date was only chosen because Pope Julius the First wanted it to overshadow the Pagan festival Saturnalia, which had people trading gifts in the honor of the Roman god Saturn from the 17th to the 23rd of December. It’s petty, isn’t it? In fact, some historians say that Jesus was most likely born in spring, so really what’s the point of all this?” Shinichi scoffed. Haibara, who had been silent throughout his short rant, was staring at his face.
“You have some whipped cream on your lip,” she told him. Shinichi tried to wipe it off, but he kept on missing it if Haibara’s sighs were anything to go by. “Here let me help.” Grabbing a napkin, she leaned over and wiped Shinichi’s upper lip clean.
“Stop acting like my mom,” he ground out.
“Then stop acting like a baby,” she quipped. “You’re not religious are you Edogawa-kun?” Haibara asked as she folded her hands on the table. Her nails had a shine to them, as if they had been manicured recently.
“I mean, I’m spiritual in the way all Japanese are. I’ll go to shrines and I’ll respect them, because that’s just how things are. 80% of the country practices Shinto but only 3% are Shintoists. I'll have a Buddhist funeral because that's the way things ought to be. I guess in the western sense I’m agnostic. Why ask me that in the first place?”
“You see, I’m an atheist. Not all scientists are, contrary to what many believe, but I am. I can’t really believe in Christianity or anything else because if God exists, he’s never been out to help me. The thing is, you’ve always been a hardliner about things you don’t understand. Like ghosts.”
“Ghosts aren’t real!” Shinichi snapped.
“I agree with you, but there are plenty of things that cannot be explained in this world. Imagine if a Christian had walked by and heard you disparaging a happy day for them?” She scolded.
“Well it’s not my fault it’s illogical in the first place!”
“I thought I was supposed to be the tactless one.” Haibara raised an eyebrow. Shinichi rolled his eyes in response.
“We’re both the tactless ones,” he told her before downing what was left of the hot chocolate.
“I guess we are,” she sounded exasperated. Her phone buzzed and she smiled at it. Grabbing her coat, she stood up and said, “The snow’s finally let up. We can go now.”
“Great,” he replied sarcastically as he stretched his arms above his head. “Looks like I’ll be carrying these bad boys all the way to the Professor's place, huh?”
“May Edogawa-kun’s arms rest in peace, for they have sacrificed themselves for quite a noble deed,” Haibara’s somber tone was betrayed by the wide grin etched onto her face. Shinichi picked up the bags one by one and followed his partner—in the most platonic sense of the word of course—out the cafe door.