Chapter Text
It can’t be.
That was the first thought Shinichi Kudo had, when he saw 2 security guards looking at him, reaching their hand to him.
It didn’t take long for Shinichi to figure out something was wrong, there were a lot of things that pointed to that being the case. After all, you didn’t even need to be a detective to notice it.
- The security guard called him ‘kid’, he is in highschool though, so he looked over that briefly until other clues came to light.
- The security guards have said nothing about him being Shinichi Kudo, if someone saw a famous person they would let them know.
- His clothes are way too oversized, though they fit perfectly fine before he passed out.
- His voice was way too high pitched.
- His hand was way too small in comparison to the security guard’s.
And now, one of the security guards carried him with little to no effort, Shinichi was relatively fit and since he’s in highschool, he’d imagine the security guard to struggle more with carrying him.
The second security guard talked into a walkie talkie.
“We found a boy on the outskirts of the park, he seems to be in first or second grade.”
Though Shinichi had been expecting something like this, he couldn’t help the shock that plagued his body at those words, terrified at what that could mean. But everything he had gathered so far only pointed to one thing.
He had de-aged somehow. It seemed well…impossible. It WAS impossible. People don’t shrink, if they did then criminals would be running around causing who knows what havoc. It was easier to get away with things when you’re six after all.
But then again, the words of the long-haired man in black came back to him, as if to mock him, but also to remind him, as it was a clue in the case.
”This is a new poison from the syndicate, never before tested on humans.”
It made him shudder to remember that, how close he was to dying. He had brushed with death more times than he could count, being a detective and all. But he never, ever had a poison shoved down his throat. Atleast, until…how long had he been out for anyway?
He realized the security guard was talking to him. He looked up, though still disoriented from it all.
“You must’ve been scared, right?”
Those words, combined with the look the security guard was giving him, made him shudder. He knew that look, he never expected to see himself on the other side of it, he always thought he’d be the one to give that look.
It was a look of pity
He remembers, always giving that look to people who had just barely managed to survive, people who had lost those they cared for, people who just didn’t know what to do after a case.
But he always gave people that look, he always comforted those who needed it after cases, it was a look he should be used to.
But he was receiving the look, this security guard thought he was someone who needed pity, someone who was scared after a case. He had to bite back tears, he was Shinichi Kudo, he shouldn’t cry.
He was Shinichi Kudo.
Was .
Before Shinichi decided to use his so-called genius detective brain, he broke free from the security guard’s arms who was carrying him and ran. The security guard’s hold on him had been pretty loose, he was trying to be gentle since Shinichi had a head injury.
He ran at a pace equivalent to a first-grader, because he probably was one right now. He ignored the shouts of the security guard that was coming behind him, as he proceeded to run as fast as he could, (which wasn’t all that fast.)
Shinichi didn’t make it far, he was resting outside of a bookstore due to the fact his child stamina and body had made it hard to run. He felt like shit, like he could just collapse and die right there. His head injury didn’t make it any better for him.
He looked into the glass door, and there it was. His first-grade self looked at him, eyes wide, with blood dripping down his head.
Shinichi knew he shrunk, he knew it without a mirror to tell him so. So why was he so scared at what had happened, why was he so shocked at what he saw, why was he trembling at the sight of it.
‘Seeing is believing’ or so they said, he would roll his eyes at the quote in the past. He believed people to be murderers without seeing it. He would roll his eyes at the quote today as well if he had the mindset to do so. Because right now, in this moment, despite what he saw, he didn’t believe.
He had it all, clues that had pointed to this conclusion, far before he saw himself again. But he didn’t, still didn’t believe it.
He remembered getting upset at the family of killers, for they would repeatedly insist that their son, daughter, fiancee, whatever, wasn’t a killer, even after Shinichi spelled out the answer with clear evidence. He always scoffed at how they didn’t believe it, despite all evidence saying so.
Shinichi would never roll his eyes for that reason ever again, for he understood why now. He felt the way they felt now, he knew why they had buried themselves in denial the way they had.
They knew the truth, they just didn’t want to believe it, because it just felt impossible, and it just hurt too much.
Just like Shinichi at this moment.
He looked behind and saw the two security guards catching up to him, he was surprised it took this long. He didn’t have the same mindset to give them a snarky comment on how it was embarrassing that it took this long for them to catch up to a grade-schooler, a type of comment he would’ve given them if he was Shinichi Kudo. He didn’t resist as he was picked up again, and they told him not to run off. And how they gave him that same look of pity as they had before.
“What’s your name kid?”
“S-”
He couldn’t say that.
He looked around, trying to find something to turn into his name. Lamp? Cloud? Sky? Star?
He looked inside the bookstore, his mind naturally wandering to the mystery novel section.
“Sonan- I mean Conan…Conan…Edogawa… My name is Conan Edogawa.”