Post by NewUserNamesAreHard on Sept 29, 2017 22:59:04 GMT
Title: Worst Kept Secrets
Summary: Shinichi was never going to get away with lying to Ran. He's just not that lucky.
Word Count: 546
A/N: I'm freaking out waiting to hear about a job opportunity and writing nonsensical stories is possibly the only thing keeping me even remotely sane at the moment. So here. Nonsensical super short.
Ran had suspected for a long time. She had even tried to trick the truth out of the Conan on more than one occasion. It wasn’t like Shinichi was a good liar. By all rights Ran should have known that 7 year old Conan was actually 17 year old Shinichi. But it was just too weird. Impossible really, except for the fact that it was the truth.
And of all the ways to find out…
“I’m home.” Conan called from the entry way as he pulled off his shoes and proceeded to pad down the hall.
“Welcome home.” Ran replied from the kitchen. It was like this most days. Well, the days that Conan didn’t find himself wrapped up in a murder investigation or physically dragged off to Professor Agasa’s house by the Detective Boys. It honestly amazed Ran how much trouble the five kids could get into.
“Look what we made in class today!” Conan chirped as he walked up beside her. “Handprint flowerpots!”
“Really? Let me see.” Conan’s childish moments seemed to be getting fewer and farther in-between, so Ran would enjoy them when they happened. Unless he was trying to talk his way out of trouble. Which was really only about 70% of the time.
The flowerpot Conan handed over wasn’t very big, better suited to planting herbs than a flower that would need space to spread its roots. But 7 year olds didn’t care about things like that. So, dutiful big sister that she had become, Ran cooed about Conan’s sloppy handprint art covering the sides of the terra cotta pot.
“I made it for you.” Conan insisted as she tried to give it back to him.
“Are you sure?”
Conan nodded.
“Okay. I’ll put it right next to mine and Shinichi’s.”
Conan froze in place.
“Are you okay, Conan-kun?”
He laughed awkwardly. It was the same kind of awkwardness that he always seemed to display whenever Ran mentioned Shinichi. “You still have the ones that you and Shinichi-niisan made?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell Shinichi though.”
“Why not?”
“He’d probably say it’s embarrassing and make me throw it away.”
Ran opened the upper left cabinet to reveal a small collection of art projects she had horded away over the years; One or two of them having actually been saved from Shinichi’s waste basket. “See, don’t they make a nice trio?” She asked before she could fully process what she was seeing; Two nearly identical pots flanking the neon pink monstrosity she had made a full 10 years before.
Nearly identical, because Shinichi had made one, and Conan had made the other. But if that was true… Why was the scar from Shinichi’s forefinger clear as day on both pots? Sure Conan was supposed to be Shinichi’s cousin, so it made sense that they looked similar, but this was taking things too far.
Ran felt her eyes narrowing as she swept her gaze from the pots to Conan and back to the pots. “Now, Co-na-n-ku-n, correct me if I’m wrong, but detectives collect finger prints because everyone’s fingerprints are unique. Right?”
Conan, no, Shinichi, swallowed nervously, but nodded his head.
They were so going to have a discussion about trust issues, just as soon as he stopped running away from her.
Summary: Shinichi was never going to get away with lying to Ran. He's just not that lucky.
Word Count: 546
A/N: I'm freaking out waiting to hear about a job opportunity and writing nonsensical stories is possibly the only thing keeping me even remotely sane at the moment. So here. Nonsensical super short.
-xoXox-
Ran had suspected for a long time. She had even tried to trick the truth out of the Conan on more than one occasion. It wasn’t like Shinichi was a good liar. By all rights Ran should have known that 7 year old Conan was actually 17 year old Shinichi. But it was just too weird. Impossible really, except for the fact that it was the truth.
And of all the ways to find out…
“I’m home.” Conan called from the entry way as he pulled off his shoes and proceeded to pad down the hall.
“Welcome home.” Ran replied from the kitchen. It was like this most days. Well, the days that Conan didn’t find himself wrapped up in a murder investigation or physically dragged off to Professor Agasa’s house by the Detective Boys. It honestly amazed Ran how much trouble the five kids could get into.
“Look what we made in class today!” Conan chirped as he walked up beside her. “Handprint flowerpots!”
“Really? Let me see.” Conan’s childish moments seemed to be getting fewer and farther in-between, so Ran would enjoy them when they happened. Unless he was trying to talk his way out of trouble. Which was really only about 70% of the time.
The flowerpot Conan handed over wasn’t very big, better suited to planting herbs than a flower that would need space to spread its roots. But 7 year olds didn’t care about things like that. So, dutiful big sister that she had become, Ran cooed about Conan’s sloppy handprint art covering the sides of the terra cotta pot.
“I made it for you.” Conan insisted as she tried to give it back to him.
“Are you sure?”
Conan nodded.
“Okay. I’ll put it right next to mine and Shinichi’s.”
Conan froze in place.
“Are you okay, Conan-kun?”
He laughed awkwardly. It was the same kind of awkwardness that he always seemed to display whenever Ran mentioned Shinichi. “You still have the ones that you and Shinichi-niisan made?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell Shinichi though.”
“Why not?”
“He’d probably say it’s embarrassing and make me throw it away.”
Ran opened the upper left cabinet to reveal a small collection of art projects she had horded away over the years; One or two of them having actually been saved from Shinichi’s waste basket. “See, don’t they make a nice trio?” She asked before she could fully process what she was seeing; Two nearly identical pots flanking the neon pink monstrosity she had made a full 10 years before.
Nearly identical, because Shinichi had made one, and Conan had made the other. But if that was true… Why was the scar from Shinichi’s forefinger clear as day on both pots? Sure Conan was supposed to be Shinichi’s cousin, so it made sense that they looked similar, but this was taking things too far.
Ran felt her eyes narrowing as she swept her gaze from the pots to Conan and back to the pots. “Now, Co-na-n-ku-n, correct me if I’m wrong, but detectives collect finger prints because everyone’s fingerprints are unique. Right?”
Conan, no, Shinichi, swallowed nervously, but nodded his head.
They were so going to have a discussion about trust issues, just as soon as he stopped running away from her.