Detective Conan. Shinichi. 030. Death.
Title: A Little Chat
Fandom: Detective Conan
Characters: Shinichi (General series)
Prompt: #30-death
Word Count: 1513 words
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: I do not own Detective Conan. It all belongs to Gosho Aoyama. I simply borrow the characters, tie them up, and dance them around like life-sized puppets. I do wish they’d stop complaining.
Summary: Hello. I’m Death. We need to have a little talk, Shinichi.
“Shin-chan.”
The sound of his true name (well, sort of) made Conan jump in and of itself. But the fact that the voice saying his true name belong to Mouri Ran only added to his total panic attack, and he whipped around, dropping the Sherlock Holmes novel he had been so happily perusing before the door had opened and that voice had spoken.
Sure enough, it was Ran standing there with her hand on the doorknob. She pushed the door shut with a soft click and regarded him with a raised eyebrow and a mildly amused smile. “Okay, Shin-chan, we need to have a little chat, just you and me.”
Reason quickly clocked back in from its coffee break and went back to work. Something was amiss here.
First of all, even if Ran had somehow found out who he was and that he had been lying to her, she would not be approaching him like this. He was quite sure of that. She would potentially be furious or crying or otherwise upset, but he really had difficulty believing that she would approach him about it like this, with that odd little smile on her face.
Reason one and a half was that he had never seen that particular expression on Ran’s face. Ever.
Reason number two was sort of related, and it was simply that Ran had never called him Shin-chan. The dubious honor of being the sole user of that nickname belonged to one, Kudo Yukiko, his mother.
Reason number three was easily the freakiest of his logical points. He had known Ran for his entire life, and he knew that her eyes were a lovely shade of blue. In all the time that he had known her, he had never seen her eyes glow white. As they were doing right now.
Ergo, the various points of evidence all added up to something being seriously rotten in the state of Denmark. And the glowing eyes added a nice element of DOUBLE-YOU TEE EFF to the equation.
All in all, though?
Conan (alias the aforementioned Shinichi and Shin-chan) was freaked as HELL.
The person or being or whatever it was that was currently looking at him through Ran’s eyes and smiling at him with Ran’s mouth and speaking to him with Ran’s voice actually chuckled. “Relax, kid. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk to you for a minute. Nothing major.”
“Oh. O-okay,” Shinichi agreed, for a lack of anything else to say. What was he going to do? Refuse? Somehow, he didn’t think that was any better of an idea. So he straightened up to his full height (wishing desperately that it was higher) and said, “What do you want to talk about? Wait, more importantly, first things first. Who are you?”
“Oh, sorry. Where are my manners?” Ran shook her head and chuckled. “I’m Death.”
“…what?” Shinichi stared.
“You’ve heard me called the Grim Reaper, I’m sure? Well, here I am. In the flesh. Sort of,” it tossed its hair (for Shinichi had now mentally labeled the being possessing Ran as an it, rather than a he or she) and grinned. “Sorry I had to borrow her like this, but I needed some way to talk to you directly, and this seemed the best way.” A pause. “She doesn’t know who you really are, does she?”
“Err, no. No, she doesn’t.”
“That Gin fellow’s got you pretty freaked out, doesn’t he?”
“Sort of. Though I could say the same for my present company.”
A laugh. “Again, it was out of necessity. But don’t worry, I’m not here to collect you or anyone else around this place. Not for quite a while. Like I said, I just needed to talk to you.”
“…you’re acquainted with Gin?”
“Yeah, need to pay him a visit too. Not in the way you’re thinking, though. I need to have a little chat with him as well. It’s actually for a similar reason,” Death’s expression grew a bit more serious.
Shinichi was now thoroughly confused. Death was using Ran’s body to talk to him about some as-yet unknown and mysterious topic…and then this spirit or ghost or being or entity or whatever the hell you wanted to call it was going to go and have the exact same chat with Gin? What the hell could Shinichi possibly have in common with Gin?
“Look, kid, I know what you do,” Death said, waving a hand. “Ace detective. Solve the tough cases. I’ve picked up a lot of folks who were pretty glad to have you around when the time came. Appreciate you doing what you do. Unhappy souls tend to whine a lot, and you’ve made a lot of them stop whining. Makes my job a whole lot easier.”
“Okay…”
“But here’s the thing,” one of Ran’s hands threaded through her hair. “Everywhere you go, someone dies. Now, I’m not following you around or anything, but…well, you have a bit of the hex on you, it seems, and wherever you go, I wind up having to follow.”
“Wait, the hex?”
“Someone must not have liked you very much somewhere along the line. Perhaps you wronged someone without knowing it, and someone was getting back at you for it?” Death suggested helpfully.
(Some distance away, a young woman with red hair was busily examining her beautiful face in the mirror and wondering whatever became of that teenaged detective who she had cursed for nearly catching Kaitou Kid. Suddenly she sneezed.)
“Err, whatever you say, I guess.”
“But anyway, the point here is that I need to ask you to do me a favor.”
“What, a favor?”
“It’s something nice that you do for someone else, but that’s not important right now,” Death went on. “What’s important is that I need you to stop going places for a while.”
“…what?”
“Stay home for a while. Don’t go anywhere. Lock yourself in your room with the flu if necessary!” Death said, waving an arm. “Just stop going places for a couple of weeks, please!” There was a pause as the spirit seemed to regain its calm. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m asking this of you.”
“That would be correct.”
“It’s simple, really,” Death said with a grin. “I need a vacation. You’re wearing me out.”
“Oh,” was all Shinichi could think of to say. That made sense, really. “Okay. I think I can manage that.” He would have to play sick for a while, but not too sick. Otherwise Ran might think something was really wrong. Well, when she was herself again, he supposed.
The look of relief on the God of Death’s face was surprisingly genuine. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” It sighed. “Now I have to go have this conversation with Hattori as well-hope that girlfriend of his doesn’t mind letting me borrow her body for a minute or three.”
“Good luck with that,” Shinichi piped up helpfully. “She’s a fighter, and he likes to swear and yell. You might have some trouble getting him to listen to you.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” Death nodded. “And then I need to go tell Gin to stop shooting people or else.” A sigh. “I really don’t want to borrow the body of that gorilla, though…”
“Vodka?”
“Yeah, him.”
“Why not?”
“Girls are a lot cuter.”
“…pervert.”
“Eh, I’m centuries old, what can you do?” Death laughed at the name. “You do have a cute girlfriend here.”
Shinichi gave him a deadpan look. “You are creeping me out. Can you leave now?”
“Yeah, I should get going,” Death stretched.
“By the way, you really don’t sound like a god who’s been around for centuries,” Shinichi couldn’t keep himself from pointing it out; it had been bothering him since the start of their conversation.
“Eh, it’s easier to communicate with people if I keep up with the times,” Death said. “I can do the whole archaic thing when I need to. I can also be pretty damned scary if the situation calls for it. But for stuff like this? Nah, it’s casual.”
“I see. Just wondering,” Shinichi shrugged. “Thanks for the explanation.”
“No problem. Later, Shin-chan!” the God of Death gave one last wave, and then there was a stripe of black light running out of the top of Ran’s head, and she slumped to the ground. The entity was gone.
Gone before Shinichi could protest the nickname. Lord of Death or not, the only one who got away with calling him by that awful nickname was his mother! And she only got away with it because it was her goddamn biological prerogative!
“Hnn…” Ran shifted, then opened her eyes. She blinked a few times before she focused in on him. “Conan-kun?” She glanced around. “How did I get in here?”
Remembering Death’s words and request for a break from the murders that tended to follow Shinichi around, Conan took a deep breath, put on his most convincing sad puppy face, and rustled up a fairly convincing cough. “Ran-neechan,” he wheezed. “I don’t feel good…”
PS. I have no solid idea as to where this came from. It just appeared, as many of my ideas seem to as of late, while I was working. And lo, it was written. Two left, and I think the next one is the one that a few of you have been waiting for :D Thanks for reading, all! Much love!
Fandom: Detective Conan
Characters: Shinichi (General series)
Prompt: #30-death
Word Count: 1513 words
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: I do not own Detective Conan. It all belongs to Gosho Aoyama. I simply borrow the characters, tie them up, and dance them around like life-sized puppets. I do wish they’d stop complaining.
Summary: Hello. I’m Death. We need to have a little talk, Shinichi.
“Shin-chan.”
The sound of his true name (well, sort of) made Conan jump in and of itself. But the fact that the voice saying his true name belong to Mouri Ran only added to his total panic attack, and he whipped around, dropping the Sherlock Holmes novel he had been so happily perusing before the door had opened and that voice had spoken.
Sure enough, it was Ran standing there with her hand on the doorknob. She pushed the door shut with a soft click and regarded him with a raised eyebrow and a mildly amused smile. “Okay, Shin-chan, we need to have a little chat, just you and me.”
Reason quickly clocked back in from its coffee break and went back to work. Something was amiss here.
First of all, even if Ran had somehow found out who he was and that he had been lying to her, she would not be approaching him like this. He was quite sure of that. She would potentially be furious or crying or otherwise upset, but he really had difficulty believing that she would approach him about it like this, with that odd little smile on her face.
Reason one and a half was that he had never seen that particular expression on Ran’s face. Ever.
Reason number two was sort of related, and it was simply that Ran had never called him Shin-chan. The dubious honor of being the sole user of that nickname belonged to one, Kudo Yukiko, his mother.
Reason number three was easily the freakiest of his logical points. He had known Ran for his entire life, and he knew that her eyes were a lovely shade of blue. In all the time that he had known her, he had never seen her eyes glow white. As they were doing right now.
Ergo, the various points of evidence all added up to something being seriously rotten in the state of Denmark. And the glowing eyes added a nice element of DOUBLE-YOU TEE EFF to the equation.
All in all, though?
Conan (alias the aforementioned Shinichi and Shin-chan) was freaked as HELL.
The person or being or whatever it was that was currently looking at him through Ran’s eyes and smiling at him with Ran’s mouth and speaking to him with Ran’s voice actually chuckled. “Relax, kid. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk to you for a minute. Nothing major.”
“Oh. O-okay,” Shinichi agreed, for a lack of anything else to say. What was he going to do? Refuse? Somehow, he didn’t think that was any better of an idea. So he straightened up to his full height (wishing desperately that it was higher) and said, “What do you want to talk about? Wait, more importantly, first things first. Who are you?”
“Oh, sorry. Where are my manners?” Ran shook her head and chuckled. “I’m Death.”
“…what?” Shinichi stared.
“You’ve heard me called the Grim Reaper, I’m sure? Well, here I am. In the flesh. Sort of,” it tossed its hair (for Shinichi had now mentally labeled the being possessing Ran as an it, rather than a he or she) and grinned. “Sorry I had to borrow her like this, but I needed some way to talk to you directly, and this seemed the best way.” A pause. “She doesn’t know who you really are, does she?”
“Err, no. No, she doesn’t.”
“That Gin fellow’s got you pretty freaked out, doesn’t he?”
“Sort of. Though I could say the same for my present company.”
A laugh. “Again, it was out of necessity. But don’t worry, I’m not here to collect you or anyone else around this place. Not for quite a while. Like I said, I just needed to talk to you.”
“…you’re acquainted with Gin?”
“Yeah, need to pay him a visit too. Not in the way you’re thinking, though. I need to have a little chat with him as well. It’s actually for a similar reason,” Death’s expression grew a bit more serious.
Shinichi was now thoroughly confused. Death was using Ran’s body to talk to him about some as-yet unknown and mysterious topic…and then this spirit or ghost or being or entity or whatever the hell you wanted to call it was going to go and have the exact same chat with Gin? What the hell could Shinichi possibly have in common with Gin?
“Look, kid, I know what you do,” Death said, waving a hand. “Ace detective. Solve the tough cases. I’ve picked up a lot of folks who were pretty glad to have you around when the time came. Appreciate you doing what you do. Unhappy souls tend to whine a lot, and you’ve made a lot of them stop whining. Makes my job a whole lot easier.”
“Okay…”
“But here’s the thing,” one of Ran’s hands threaded through her hair. “Everywhere you go, someone dies. Now, I’m not following you around or anything, but…well, you have a bit of the hex on you, it seems, and wherever you go, I wind up having to follow.”
“Wait, the hex?”
“Someone must not have liked you very much somewhere along the line. Perhaps you wronged someone without knowing it, and someone was getting back at you for it?” Death suggested helpfully.
(Some distance away, a young woman with red hair was busily examining her beautiful face in the mirror and wondering whatever became of that teenaged detective who she had cursed for nearly catching Kaitou Kid. Suddenly she sneezed.)
“Err, whatever you say, I guess.”
“But anyway, the point here is that I need to ask you to do me a favor.”
“What, a favor?”
“It’s something nice that you do for someone else, but that’s not important right now,” Death went on. “What’s important is that I need you to stop going places for a while.”
“…what?”
“Stay home for a while. Don’t go anywhere. Lock yourself in your room with the flu if necessary!” Death said, waving an arm. “Just stop going places for a couple of weeks, please!” There was a pause as the spirit seemed to regain its calm. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m asking this of you.”
“That would be correct.”
“It’s simple, really,” Death said with a grin. “I need a vacation. You’re wearing me out.”
“Oh,” was all Shinichi could think of to say. That made sense, really. “Okay. I think I can manage that.” He would have to play sick for a while, but not too sick. Otherwise Ran might think something was really wrong. Well, when she was herself again, he supposed.
The look of relief on the God of Death’s face was surprisingly genuine. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” It sighed. “Now I have to go have this conversation with Hattori as well-hope that girlfriend of his doesn’t mind letting me borrow her body for a minute or three.”
“Good luck with that,” Shinichi piped up helpfully. “She’s a fighter, and he likes to swear and yell. You might have some trouble getting him to listen to you.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” Death nodded. “And then I need to go tell Gin to stop shooting people or else.” A sigh. “I really don’t want to borrow the body of that gorilla, though…”
“Vodka?”
“Yeah, him.”
“Why not?”
“Girls are a lot cuter.”
“…pervert.”
“Eh, I’m centuries old, what can you do?” Death laughed at the name. “You do have a cute girlfriend here.”
Shinichi gave him a deadpan look. “You are creeping me out. Can you leave now?”
“Yeah, I should get going,” Death stretched.
“By the way, you really don’t sound like a god who’s been around for centuries,” Shinichi couldn’t keep himself from pointing it out; it had been bothering him since the start of their conversation.
“Eh, it’s easier to communicate with people if I keep up with the times,” Death said. “I can do the whole archaic thing when I need to. I can also be pretty damned scary if the situation calls for it. But for stuff like this? Nah, it’s casual.”
“I see. Just wondering,” Shinichi shrugged. “Thanks for the explanation.”
“No problem. Later, Shin-chan!” the God of Death gave one last wave, and then there was a stripe of black light running out of the top of Ran’s head, and she slumped to the ground. The entity was gone.
Gone before Shinichi could protest the nickname. Lord of Death or not, the only one who got away with calling him by that awful nickname was his mother! And she only got away with it because it was her goddamn biological prerogative!
“Hnn…” Ran shifted, then opened her eyes. She blinked a few times before she focused in on him. “Conan-kun?” She glanced around. “How did I get in here?”
Remembering Death’s words and request for a break from the murders that tended to follow Shinichi around, Conan took a deep breath, put on his most convincing sad puppy face, and rustled up a fairly convincing cough. “Ran-neechan,” he wheezed. “I don’t feel good…”
PS. I have no solid idea as to where this came from. It just appeared, as many of my ideas seem to as of late, while I was working. And lo, it was written. Two left, and I think the next one is the one that a few of you have been waiting for :D Thanks for reading, all! Much love!