[fic] -- "Kidnapped!" part two
Title:Kidnapped! (Ouran Host Club Meets Detective Cona- er, Mouri Kogorou) #2
Alternative Title: or Why Tamaki Should Not Be Allowed to Hire Famous Detectives If The Rest Of The World Is To Remain Sane (Part Two)
Or yet again… Why Ika Should Really Lay Off The Manga/Anime/Fanfiction For The Rest Of Her Life If She Is To Get Any Semblance Of Peace From The Plunnies And Finish Her Work
Pairing: none
Rating: PG
Genre: General, Crossover
Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran, Detective Conan, or any of their characters.
Summary: See the (first) alternative title.
"Sequel" to Kidnapped! (part one)
Ika’s brains have been going on autopilot for a while, and there’s a concert she has to perform in later tonight. Please excuse her. Things won’t be making sense for quite some time. She apologizes if anyone loses any brain cells from reading what might quite possibly be a horribly-written fanfic.
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It really depended on the situation. Really. Because between everyday occurrences of improbable things happening and the chaotic mess known as Life, no one was really sure if the people around them were going crazy or whatnot.
Circumstances
“Kidnapped!” #2
By Hikagi
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“Moshi, moshi,” Shinichi yawned as he picked up the phone. It was entirely way too early in the morning to be up on a Sunday for his tastes. Why, oh why didn’t clients consider the thought that perhaps other people liked to sleep in on their days off? “This is Detective Mouri’s Agency. How may I help you?”
The person (older woman, by the sounds of it - highly bred and cultured with a formal clip and intonation present in her speech) on the other end of the line asked if “Meitantei Mouri Kogorou-san” was available later on today for a meeting. There was a small matter to be discussed and if he chose to accept the case, a handsome compensation would be awaiting him upon its completion.
“Sure,” the small child responded, trying to blink the last remains of sleep from his eyes. “I don’t think he has anything scheduled. Can I get your telephone number and address?”
He jotted down the numbers dutifully, taking care to make his handwriting look like a small child’s untidy scrawl. Everything nowadays, it seemed, might “lead to [his] untimely demise,” as Haibara so aptly put it. The young brilliant-scientist-turned-seven-year-old had insisted that he peg his acting skills down to the tee, and that included getting grass stains, scrapped knees, runny noses, jammed fingers, and stubbed toes.
And apparently, that meant messy handwriting as well.
“Uh-huh,” Shinichi chirped into the speaker. “Yes. Yes. I’ll be sure to tell Mouri-san!” He hung the phone back onto the receiver just as Ran walked into the office.
“Conan-kun?” she called, rubbing her eyes. “Who was that?”
“A Maezono Shima-san,” he replied as he handed her his note. “She said that Mouri-ojisan is needed later on today.”
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As it so happened, Mouri Kogorou had pronounced Shinichi’s handwriting as “illegible! How the heck am I supposed to be able to read something like this?!” and demanded that the small child come with him to “decipher the chicken scratch. What on earth do schools teach these days if kids can’t even write their numbers properly?!”
Well, Shinichi pouted, it wasn’t as if he had any other choice in the matter. After all, he wasn’t actually a seventeen-year-old-stuck-inside-of-the-body-of-a-small-child-and-hush!-no-one-is-supposed-to-know! Oh no, no, no, no, no.
Sometimes being a (pseudo-)kid sucked like getting picked on by bullies.
Wait, that was his child-mind speaking. Argh! Now he knew that he’d been spending entirely too much time in finding a permanent cure! His brain was deteriorating faster than a sugar cube in hot water.
Okay, let’s try that again. Ahem.
Sometimes being a pseudo-kid sucked like… Like… Like missing a shot in the final quarter of a soccer game! Or losing his Sherlock Holmes collection to slobbering dogs. Getting bopped on the head by a drunk, no-good detective? Being unable to corner and apprehend Kaitou Kid?
...On second thought, those didn’t make very good analogies either.
But all of this was quickly brushed aside when Oji-san finally took a look at the amount of money these people were willing to pay. Literally speaking too. The famous detective had been trying to decipher Shinichi’s - or actually, Conan’s - handwriting as if it were a particularly difficult encrypted code when his eyes had settled on the ridiculous number down at the bottom. The chair the older man had been reclining in had suddenly fallen backwards, accompanied by a loud and indignant squawk, flailing limbs, and the clearing of Mouri Kogorou’s office desk by said flailing limbs.
“Ran!” the man called, suddenly very enthused and nothing like his former, grumpy self. “Hurry up with breakfast! We’re leaving as soon as possible!”
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An hour and half later, they were climbing out of the taxi and ringing the front gate. They were told they had been expected, and someone was being sent to show them the way in. Shinichi wasn’t too surprised by any of the procedures - after all, similar things had happened before. It would take quite a lot to impress him at this stage.
After a few minutes, a servant reached the gates and showed them the way in. The drive-way took a sharp turn a few feet away from the entrance (which, Shinichi had been irked to find, had prevented him from seeing what was inside the tall iron fences). “We are honored that the famous Detective Mouri Kogorou-san has decided to aid us with this matter. Master Suoh has been terribly upset these past few hours. It took quite a bit of time for him to calm down enough to see reason in this situation.”
Shinichi took the time to observe the lawn and gaped.
Enormous marble water fountains with platinum-plated finishes, silver ornaments decorating ivory bird baths, stepping stones inlayed with gold dust, lines of crystal flowers fencing the pathways, and was that a genuine baroque-style French formal garden he could see on the other side of the establishment?
“Take quite a lot to impress him,” indeed. At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised if they had a Persian garden hidden somewhere around, or a private zoo with exotic animals on display.
And he hadn’t even gotten to the house yet. Well, house wasn’t the right word for it seeing that it looked like it was bigger than all the Teitan school buildings put together. He wasn’t sure if the word “mansion” could quite be used to describe the place either. Palace - that might work in this case, right? There were some distinct French influences incorporated in the architecture of the building, and some parts of the design looked as if they were modeled off of Château de Versailles.
“C’mon, Conan-kun. You don’t want to get left behind.”
Ran’s voice brought Shinichi around, and he suddenly remembered why he was here.
“Coming, Ran-neechan!” he called, taking one last look at his surroundings before racing to the main entrance of the…palace, where the others had already gathered. He took the steps, two at a time, until he was right behind Oji-san. “I’m here!”
“Took you long enough, brat,” the man grumbled. “Quit wasting our time.” They were asked to leave their shoes at the door and were provided slippers.
“Tantei-san,” the servant gestured, using Oji-san’s professional title. “Right this way. The Master will be here in a moment.” He opened the doors and led them to a large sitting room. Shinichi jumped on to the nearest chair and marveled at how comfortable the cushions were.
They didn’t have to wait very long before a slightly familiar figure entered the room and sat down in the closest available seat. Shinichi noted that the teenager looked a bit perplexed. “Ah, Mouri Kogoro-san! I know that our last meeting was a bit strange, but I have a new job offer for you.”
“No, no - not at all, Suoh-san! It’d be my pleasure.”
Suoh Tamaki looked decidedly relieved at the statement. “I need you to look for him.” He placed a photo on the table and Oji-san picked it up. “I have reason to believe that he’s been kidnapped, and by someone on the inside…”
Shinichi took a quick glance at the picture and memorized the face that seemed to stare back.
A big, flat nose; very dark complexion; small, beady eyes; short in height and stature; a frown on his face; round ears that stuck out from his head; stiff arms; hunched shoulders; disheveled appearance.
All in all, not the most attractive picture he’d ever seen.
Shinichi paused and asked in his child-voice, “Ne, ne, Suoh-san. Do you have anyone in mind that could possibly have a grudge against you?”
The man seemed almost startled at the thought. “Grudge? Against me?” He shook his head. “Not that I can think of off the top of my head.”
Either that man really had no enemies, or he was hopelessly oblivious to it all. And considering the size of the estate (imagine his shock when he had been told it was Suoh mansion #2! As in, there was a Suoh mansion #1 mansion somewhere else in Japan!), Shinichi was willing to bet that it was the latter.
“Then can you bring out all the maids and servants for questioning?”
“Why… Of course,” he nodded, a bit hesitantly before exiting the room and calling Maezono Shima-san (the one who had called the detective’s office) to gather everyone up in the main hall.
Ten minutes later, Shinichi found Kuma-chan hidden under Antoinette’s blanket with an impressive amount of drool coating its features.
Fin…?
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Author’s Notes:
So… I’m just curious who you guys thought was the kidnapped victim before it was revealed. XD
And wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee for the OOC! And possible spelling mistakes.
x-posted to
ouranhostclub and FFN.
Circumstance is a collection of Ouran shots and occaisional crossover. Previous chapters can be found here.
~ Ika