Title: Clues From a Crime Scene

Author: Waywren Truesong

Series: Meitantei Conan/Case Closed

Summary: Based on the events of volume 10, files 3-5 with heaviest emphasis on the end of 5. Hattori Heiji on motivation and the walking crime scene that is Kudo Shin'ichi.

Disclaimer: If I were Aoyama Gosho, I'd own this series-but if I were Aoyama Gosho, I wouldn't be curled up on a beanbag in Houston, Texas, distracting myself from the Hurricane Rita hoorah on the telly, now would I? I therefore deduce that I do not, in fact, own this series, and will make no profit whatsover. Sigh.

For Gamlain Gabriel Chere, who let me turn him into the only other Conan fan I personally know, and for nimbirosa, whose loving hectoring and dedicated collaboration has drop-kicked me back into writing-even if I do backslide sometimes. The most precious imouto-chan in the world.


Hattori Heiji: ...So I was wrong right from the start, huh? I totally lost this time! I'm impressed, Kudo! Your skills are top-notch...

Kudo Shin'ichi: Idiot... There's no win or lose, good or bad in this business... because there is always only One Truth...

Meitantei Conan, Vol 10, File 5, pp 92-93


There's no way in Hell that was just a cold.

A policeman's son learns something about first aid, and a meitantei learns even more-not just to learn all the myriad ways a guy can hurt a body, but because if you can save the victim, then you aren't just giving them Justice-and I know damned well that was not just a cold.

It might have started as one, but it sure the hell wasn't one by the time I set eyes on 'im. Pneumonia, maybe.

And the way he clutched at his chest-like Otaki-han when he was having that heart attack...

If I could have grown a third leg, I would've been kickin' m'self with it. I'd been crowing over my 'victory' in solving a sealed-room murder-vs a... a very ill (I won't say dyin') man.

When it wasn't even really a sealed room.

And he still beat me.

And proved himself the better man, too, damn him. 'There is only one truth.'

Ahou.

Think I'm starting to like him.

...Thing is, I'm starting to like Mouri-han too-the orchid, not the alcoholic-and that makes me worried for both of 'em.

Mouri-han because she's head over heels for him-I could see it from outside the damn agency-and Kudo because he's just as obviously gone on her, but won't let her see him-even though he's watching her every move.

'If it's you, I can tell how you are just by your voice,' my ass.

He kept telling her not to worry, like he was expecting her to, like there was something for her to be worried about.

Like keeping her from knowing where he was and what he was doing was a matter of life or death.

'cos the whole time, there was this look on his face-

No, two looks, both't once, and one of 'em I understood and one I don't want to:

'I know a secret,' says one look, an' that makes sense-hasn't told anyone just where he is or how he knows things, now has he?

But the other...

I'm the last to call m'self a poet, but his face...

There was a fire in his eyes; the burnin' light of a man who'd clawed his way out of Hell to spit Enma in the eye.

Now I ask you:

What sort of cold makes a man look like that?

And what on earth would make that man vanish, with a bed so close and a doctor an' a lovin' girl on the way?

Mouri-han's amazin': beautiful, lovin', carin', totally honest in everything she does an' well-capable of handlin' anything that comes her way... the sort of girl you could tell anythin'.

...And I've only known her two hours; Kudo's known her all his life.

What could possibly be so big he wouldn't tell her? Only somethin' she couldn't help with, somethin' that would break her heart...

...just how long've you been lookin' as if you were death warmed over, Kudo? Since you disappeared, maybe?

What's so wrong with you, that you'd go off an' die alone?