6-8k Writing Comp #4: Italian mafias and Japanese yakuzas
Aug 11, 2016 2:40:27 GMT
yesterday likes this
Post by Addy01 on Aug 11, 2016 2:40:27 GMT
Italian mafias and Japanese yakuzas
by Addy01
Note: This idea ballooned from my chat with Taliya and Boogum in Poirot Cafe's forum chat. Taliya had an idea for her cheese fic that involves Mafias and needed it to be T-ified. And Boogum had a fic that involved ducks and a similar sounding swear word. I have their permission to use these in this fic. And they did say they want to see this happen~!
Taliya and Boogum: Not sure if this is what you guys had in mind, and to be honest I am on the fence with this one but I hope this fic meets your expectations!
Warning: Implied coarse language, cliché Hollywood mafias. Inaccurate portrayal of Yakuza. T-rating? Crack.
Word Count: 6615 (according to AO3)
Enjoy!
The fall of the Black Organisation had gone much more smoothly and quickly that he could have ever hoped.
With the coordinated efforts of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the FBI, the PSB and all the other various law enforcement agencies around the world, the Organisation was defeated with one decisive strike. Overnight, the tables were turned and the streets were finally safer than they had ever been before.
Of course, there were years of legal battle ahead for the law enforcement agencies trying to put every last one of them in jail.
But… that wasn't his problem. It's not as if he could help in that department anyway.
What was important was the poison, APTX 4869.
Just as he and Haibara hoped, they managed to find the formula and sample of the poison in one of the pharmaceutical companies that served as their hideouts while the FBI was doing a census of all the Organisation's inventory and he had been tagging along for the ride.
(It became vital for him to reveal his true identity to the FBI, as he needed to be in an optimal position to assist with the strategic meetings and planning – there's only so much advice someone would take from a seven-year-old before they start asking questions or brush him aside.)
When no one was looking – Andre the FBI agent was unfortunately assigned for this tedious job – Shinichi swiped the data and the sample and removed any trace that he had ever touched anything.
Which he immediately brought it to Haibara to work on—she had mentioned off-handedly that she could finally create a permanent antidote with these data – who was vibrating in a restrained nerd-like enthusiasm before she caught herself and chased him out of her lab.
It was the best news Shinichi had heard all year, sending him onto cloud nine as he absorbed and mulled over that wonderful piece of news.
He could finally get his life back on track.
Since he managed to help bring down the organisation just a couple of weeks before the end of the school year, he didn't have much work the catch up on. Especially since he was always ahead of the class. And would be able to join his classmates in the third year after the school took in his 'special consideration'.
As much as he didn't really like Amuro Tooru initially - or Fuuuyu Rei (a name he only got to know from the 'special consideration' slip he received in the mail) - as person, the man had really come through with his 'note' for his leave of absence, giving it to him as a grudging, off-handed show of gratitude for his assistance
(He'd send the man that popular cheese cake from that specialty shop in Hokkaido to return that gesture of appreciation – he just hoped the cake would survive the shipping.)
Also because he didn't have to hide under the radar, he didn't even have to go to kiddy school anymore. So he withdrew from the school the first chance he got. He was sad that he'd see less of the kids – they'd come to hold a special place in his heart in the short year he had known them and he would always remember them fondly.
(But really, there's only so much time he could stand being in a class for first graders. The first time around had been boring enough for him as it was.)
On top of that, as a little gift for his assistance, he even got a legit passport from the FBI for 'Edogawa Conan' so that he could be a legal person in the interim – so that persona was finally, technically a legal person that existed in the system.
(Not that he was going to use it. But it was still a nice little gesture for them. He had always had a little misgiving about technically living on the wrong side of the law, even if it was for his own safety.)
He was finally a free, free man.
Almost.
All he needed now was to wait for the antidote to be created so that he could finally get back to his body and move on with his life.
-o-
Shinichi was quite sure that Haibara was actually a reincarnated-devil-poltergeist who was out to make his life miserable.
That's the only reason why she would do this to him!
Oh! The agony! What did he do to deserve to be tormented by that evil-eyed, yawny girl?!
Oh that right, he had foolishly followed Gin and Vodka and got himself shrunk...Wrong question.
"W-what?! You have got to be joking! Six weeks! B-b-but...You got the formula! You said you could whip up the antidote in a jiffy once you have it in your hand!"
"Kudo-kun, I said I can definitely create the antidote once I have the formula. Not that I can create it that quickly. I still need time to conduct experiments to make sure it is safe for you to take it. Don't be melodramatic about it. You can wait for six more weeks for the machine to come. I would have gotten the local supply but the whole factory that produces them in Japan got destroyed by the Yakuza last week. So I have to import it from Germany."
"B-but, can't you just air freight it?"
"No, the air pressure would damage the more delicate components." She said as she poured herself a cup of coffee, "Even so, it's already on the ship on its way here. So I wouldn't be able to change it now even if I wanted to."
Noo! This can't be happening! He couldn't help but bury his head into his hand as he tried to grasp at the situation at hand.
"Seriously, Kudo-kun. And you wonder why I never give you updates on the progress of the antidote." She muttered to herself as she shook her head and sighed. And as he looked up from his grief, he caught her eying him as if she should have known to expect such a behaviour from him.
He wasn't that difficult, was he? It wasn't like he was asking for much.
Right?
"You know all these already, so maybe you could tell me the reason why you're being so dramatic about this. Is it about Mouri-chan?" and she tipped the rest of the coffee into another thermo flask.
If this was any other situation, he would have glared at her for depriving him of coffee, and why couldn't she just pour a single cup for him.
Now though, it was rather telling on how desperate he was when all he did was blush and nod. "It's going to be her birthday next month..."
"...And you want to celebrate it with her in your own body." She let out another exasperated sigh.
He should rename her as the 'evil-eyed, constantly-sighing, yawny girl.' She didn't have to act as if it was a minor, inconsequential issue.
"You know you could just let her in on it now," she continued, rolling her eyes and dismissing his concerns. "It's safe to let her know about the whole situation."
"I just prefer to tell her in my own real body..." He had lost enough dignity as it was being lugged and carried and swung around like a soft toy by far too many people, especially her. He'd take whatever he could to retain as much of his non-existent dignity as possible.
"Well, I'd still say it's safer to let her know while you're still shrunken. But what do I know? I'm such an evil-eyed, yawny girl after all." She made the sarcasm abundantly clear.
'No! An evil-eyed, constantly-sighing, unsympathetically-cruel, yawny girl.'
"Now go. Stop distracting me with your whining. You'll get your antidote when it's done." She gave him the shoo-ing gesture. "Now, leave me to my work."
'Evil-eyed, constantly-sighing, unsympathetically-cruel, merciless-bully, yawny girl.'
There wasn't anything else that he could do other than shuffle out of the house in despair.
He thought that there was nothing worse than being shrunk.
He was wrong.
Waiting to be unshrunk was even worse.
-o-
He had moved back to his old home once it had been confirmed that the Organisation was finally decimated and would never ever have the opportunity to be resurrected - there wasn't any need to stay with the Mouris and continue the 'Sleeping Kogoro' act.
It was even a teary (for everyone but him) farewell party before 'heading to America'.
(A watery-eyed, pouty-lipped Ayumi-chan clung onto him through the whole party, and Ran was in the corner trying to hold back her tears of 'her little brother going back to America and never ever going to see him ever again.' And the boys were half glaring at him for taking Ayumi's attention before they teared up as well when it hit them that they might not be able to see their smart, bespectacled friend again.
All this while, instead of helping him to get out of this mess, Haibara and Agasa-hakase – those traitors - sat by the corner, giggling at his misery.)
Needless to say, that was a very unsuccessful farewell party. He really could do without all the kiddy drama.
On hindsight, if he had known he had to wait for at least six more weeks, he might have considered delaying his departure from kiddy life – at least it wouldn't have been a boring six weeks.
But there's only so much a seventeen-year-old could stand being treated like a kid. Especially when it was not necessary anymore to keep up the act.
(And especially when his mother had the tendency to pinch his cheeks until they were red and swollen. He's seventeen for goodness sake! Why couldn't his mother treat him as such, even if he didn't look the part at the moment.)
Without the distraction of kiddy school, cases and the need to keep up the act as a kid, he hadn't known what to do with himself with the abundance of time he suddenly had on his hands.
He couldn't really get out of his house much. Even without the syndicate roaming at large anymore, the world at large can't know that there's a possibility that people can regress in age – a kid being about outside of school hours would definitely raise questions. And the various agencies he had collaborated with agreed with the assessment and had made everyone involved, especially him, seal their lips.
"It wouldn't do for you to be kidnap by an 'evil-mad scientist so that they could find the key to immortality in [your genes] or something' after all the trouble you had gone through." Jodie-sensei had said, with dramatics that he had come to expect from teacher-cum-FBI-agent, the last time he saw her [she was boarding] the plane for America with her on-off-and-on-again boyfriend, Akai Shuichi, in tow.
(He had enough of being a personal guinea pig for one shrunken scientist, thank you very much.)
Unfortunately, no one was quite free enough to keep him company.
"I have got to do my homework Shinichi. Unlike someone, I don't have the luxury of just handing in my homework and missing all my exams while still being allowed to move on to next year. I don't want to be held back just because you're bored now that you have solved your cases and are now waiting in police protection with nothing to do because you got the Yakuza on your tail. I'll talk to you after everything is done. Bye!"
Maybe he shouldn't have called Ran every hour or so. She's usually so sweet and patient with Conan-kun, it's hard to remember sometimes that she had a mean temper underneath that sisterly act and could deliver a bone-breaking karate kick if he wasn't careful.
Moreover, Tokyo had become surprisingly crime free. Which, even with the fall of an evil crime syndicate, didn't explain the drastic drop.
"Sorry Kudo-kun, for the last time, I have got nothing for you. You even took the last of the cold cases and solved them all. All that's left is to send all my officers to do the legwork and paperwork. Look, don't worry Kudo-kun, I'll let you know if something comes up."
Traitor, he never did.
(Not that he wanted crimes to be committed – Of course not! He wasn't a psychopath the last the checked...)
Worse, he was banned from Agasa-Hakase's house after accidentally pestering Haibara one too many times.
"For the last time, your whining isn't going to make me create the antidote any faster. Not for the last twenty times you came by to ask about it! And especially not in the span of three days... That's it! From now on, you are banned from this place. Do NOT step even half a foot in here until I am done with the antidote and call]for you." She proceeded to slam the door at his face.
(He swore his nose got flatter from that.)
Even Hattori was busy, or at least, wasn't willing to entertain him anymore than the others would.
He barely got a word edgewise before Hattori cut in, "Hey Kudo, I got to go, Otaki-han just got a case for me and I need to catch up on my tally of how many cases I solve for this month. Especially after you cracked your Black Organisation case. See ya!"
(Why does he have to be friends with such a competitive person? So not helping him right now!)
He ended up lounging in front of the television all day. And even then, there wasn't anything engaging on air.
In fact, the only remotely interesting thing on was an Italian documentary on cheese making – which probably said something about his situation that he found that the most simulating thing that happened to him all day.
Bored! Bored! BORED! Urghhhh! He was sooooo bored!
"...I'd rather go on that Cheese Tour than being this bored..." He had commented before turning up the volume to listen in on the show, all the while, slumping lazily on the sofa as if he was a puddle of jelly.
Unfortunately, his parents were home – they were finally able to return to their Japanese abode to spend more time with their only son, now that they were given the all clear to be able to safely associate with him.
And guess who caught wind of that unintentional remark?
The first two guesses don't count.
(Shinichi should have cared a little more about that glean in his mother's eyes during dinner. At the very least, he would have been able to brace himself for what was to come.)
-o-
The first thing Shinichi registered when he woke was the smooth texture of leather on his fingertips. His hands laid slacked beside him as if he was sitting rather than sleeping on the bed. He could feel the soft cushioning of the seat – much softer and more comfortable than the usual Porsche or Jaguar that his parents usually hire to drive, so he wasn't likely in a car.
There was muted chattering in the air, but far too soft and distant for him to hear any of the conversation, but loud enough to contribute to the white noise that filled the air. There was a 'ting' - a bell? - accompanied by the sound of wheels rolling. On his right, he could hear the glasses clinking, and plastic clattering - champagne glass and plastic tray being put on a plastic table maybe? This continued for a while before the wheels turned a few slow revolutions before the whole cycle begins. Wheels on trolley, perhaps?
The smell of pressured air, the microscopic scent of fossil fuel lingered in the air and this specific freshener, a combination that he had heavily associated with being on an aircraft – A Boeing 747 jumbo jet to be more precise. So they probably had just departed, seat belt sign had just been turned off...
...That can't be right…
The last he checked, he had fallen asleep on his bed with an Ellery Queen novel in his hands – which he had decided to read so that he could tell Hattori how inferior it was compared to Arthur Doyle's work the next time he meet up with the Okasan.
(Considering how he had fallen asleep mid-way through the book, he'll say - very inferior - in his humble opinion.)
He let out a groan when it finally connected in this head.
Flighty, inconsiderate parents! Don't they ever consider let him in on their plans? He might have something on and they'll screw up all his well-organised schedules.
Not that he had any at this point in time… but that's besides the point.
He opened his eyes -which had been the wrong move, as he was treated to the sight of his mother's face, so close that their noses were almost touching-
Argh! That's way too close for comfort.
On reflex, he tried to scramble back – Too close! Too close! Too close!
Which, of course, was hardly a successful venture since he only dug into the airline seat and created a mere centimeter of difference in space.
"What the heck?!"
A giggle and a chuckle was his only reply. He could only stare at them in disbelief. His father was seated on the opposite side of the aisle, keeping his laptop away in anticipation of the meal – his mother, who had been standing in front of him, retreated back to her seat beside him.
(There's no way he couldn't have not woken up being carried all the way to the aircraft unless they drug his food last night… made perfect sense since it had been eleven hours since he was last conscious – according to the time on monitor screen that was protruding out of armchair of his mother's seat.)
This was ridiculous.
He let out an exasperated sigh (Oh no! He's starting to sound like Haibara) and asked in resignation, "So where are we headed to this time?"
There was no use asking why.
Really. His brain might implode otherwise.
"Well, you mentioned that you wanted to go on that Cheese Tour shown in the documentary...so that's where we're going!" And shoved the airline ticket to his face – again. True enough, on the destination section of the ticket states 'FLORENCE, FLR'
"You looked so stressed out Shin-chan! We though you could definitely use a break..." she paused as the air stewardess came by and took her order – pan-fried salmon with roasted vegetables and cream sauce.
"Besides, isn't it a great opportunity to finally use your brand new passport specially made just for you before turning back to Big Shin-chan~?" and she took waving the blue booklet right in front of this face, this time it flapped on his nose which he tried to swat it away instinctively. Urgh!
His parents and their flightiness. He thought as the air stewardess came to his side with his food, thankfully interrupting the conversation. He should have seen it coming when he suspected that there might have been a glean in her eyes during dinner.
Too bad he had been too bored to bother to care.
He did the only thing he could do, and let out a sigh.
Oh well, might as well enjoy it. His curse with dead bodies hadn't started until his parents left for LA.
Maybe, if he was lucky, now that he had both his parents around, there wouldn't be any dead bodies littering this holiday. And he could actually have some fun relaxing down time.
It was only then he noticed the airline toy plane model, still in its pristine wrapping, that they only give out to kids sitting innocently beside his plate.
Maybe not.
-o-
What's the point of going for this tour, exactly the same as the one from the documentary. He couldn't help but grumble as they stepped off the rented Ferrari California convertible.
He hadn't realised that the documentary had been a rather popular series in Japan until he found himself staring at the detailing of the tour bus advertising the show, and that the tour had been visiting the exact same attraction as them.
A very expensive Japanese exclusive tour – what with the way everyone was carrying their Chanel bags and wearing their Louis Vuitton belts.
It doesn't help that the tour was showing the exact same things the documentary did. Talk about bringing boredom to a whole new level!
Worst of all, the only kid in the tour – a pint-size brat younger than his current physical age—had latched onto him like a sticky fairy floss…
Urgh! Why couldn't he have the antidote now! He wouldn't have to suffer through this mess otherwise!
That insolent boy had even stolen his cap from him after the third cheese factory in which they'd bumped into each other.
His precious, limited edition Tokyo Spirit cap! Being tarnished by the boy's grabby hands...Oh! The horror!
And he couldn't even take it away from the rascal, as the father had started burning a hole with his glare whenever his hand reached too close to the boy to snatch the cap back.
Detective Boys were angels in comparison. He'd never complain about them ever again.
That was all so much he could take of this nonsense. He had managed to get a breather when he slipped to the toilet mid-way through the presentation - the boy had been too entranced with milking the cow and had let go of his iron grip hold on his numb arm.
He let out another sigh, - he had lost track of how many times since he landed in Florence. This kiddy act was really, really wearing on him. He had thought he had already left it behind weeks ago when he left the Mouris. Curses!
Five more weeks, Shinichi.
Five more measly weeks to freedom.
Just hang in there...
Just as was drying his hands, a cloth appeared out of nowhere - with thick stumpy hand, not his parents'! - and the familiar smell of chloroform overwhelmed him.
This happened too fast for him to even react, and before he fainted, a last thought escaped his mind:
Not again! This was really, really getting old...
-o-
The first thing he thought when he woke up was:
Darn, he got caught by the "evil-mad scientist who's out to find the key to immortality in his genes or something" didn't he?
He pulled his arm back, stretching and undoing the knots on his shoulder from sleeping upright – he had probably only been put on the bed not long ago -, and took in his surroundings.
It was a simple, tiny room, with wooden furniture chosen for functional reasons rather than aesthetic, especially considering they were mismatched and a few decades out of date with their tacky colours and retro design. The single bed – where he had obviously been sleeping – was tucked in the corner, taking up most of the space in the room. The curtains brushed against the blanket as he shifted in the bed, letting in a small stream of yellow ray between the small gap of the two heavy cloths.
Pulling the thin curtain that shaded most of the glare of the afternoon sun, he was treated to the sight of the beautiful scenery of the Italian countryside. The bright sunshine, without any clouds blocking its ray, injected an array of saturation into the colourful greenery. The vibrant green grass extended for miles beyond, a few trees were scattered, adding in a bit of texture to the beautiful natural painting.
It was sight to behold.
He shook his head to clear the cobwebs – he hated how chloroform made him slow and easily distracted – and turned his focus to the more important issue at hand.
Like how to get out of this place.
Pressing his face into the glass window – it was locked -, he looked to the sides, - there were more rolls of houses that extended beyond his limited view. He hoped that he was in a residential estate, meaning easier access to the general public and his parents, if he could get in contact with his parents! He quickly dug into his pocket for his phone – hah! They didn't take it away from him – for a signal. But dang, his battery was flat.
Looks like he'll have to look for a landline – and maybe the address to this place?
He tiptoed towards the door, where he found that not only was it unlocked, it was ajar? He could hear mute chatter, which means they're far away from the door. Good! There was his chance to escape!
He took the invitation and ventured forward, trying to slowly open the door without making a sound.
Of course, the door just had to creak, which came out loud and long and as if someone had just passed a comfortable amount of gas. Obviously a very good alarm system, no wonder they didn't bother locking the door.
And he still must have really been out of it, because it took him a few more seconds to process the abrupt silence that came with it, and he turned to find several eyes on him. All staring, presumably, from the dining room, frozen still in the midst of dinner.
He could only stare back - there wasn't much he could do, not with his brain still so compromised with the chloroform. And they didn't seem like they were going to pounce and were only looking at him with morbid curiosity.
Which was when his stomach decided it was the perfect time to rumble in hunger. Ah yes, they were due for lunch before he was kidnapped.
A sharp bark from an old lady – the Matriarch? - sitting at the end of the table, waving her cane, immediately set off a set of over-rehearsed, orchestrated reaction, in which he was quickly found himself seated in the middle of the dining table and plate full of pasta in front of him– when had they picked him up from the floor!
They had continued to stare until he realised what they were expecting from him - and took a bite out of his plate. He was too hungry to care about poisoning.
They only resumed their dinner after that.
Hmm...the real Italian pasta, he thought between mouthfuls, much better than what's served back in Japan.
"English?" the person on his left asked in a thick Italian accent.
"Yes." Oh good, he never did pick up Italian, other than a few greetings and phrases to get by.
"Good! I speak. A little." the words came out slow and punctuated, as if he had to translate the words in his head before saying them out loud.
"Why am I here?" They….don't seem like your average kidnappers. Then again, he never did meet your average kidnappers to begin with.
"Japanese man, asked us to. Pay very well. Revenge, he said. Japanese Mafia make his, what you call, factory, go 'ka-boom.' -" and made the appropriate hand gestures, "So make your father pay?"
"My father? Factory" Oh no...What had Dad gotten himself into?
"Your father, Japanese mafia, no?" Maifa? – Japanese mafia – oh, OH!
And the whole picture came to him like a sledgehammer.
That meant that the whole group in that tour were the Yakuzas. And that Bra- Kid was supposed to be the target. There's no way Dad wouldn't have notice them – had they gotten roped into a case again?
"I-I think you got the wrong person." They acted decent so far, maybe he could persuade them to drop him off at the police station and–
"YOU! Wrong bozu!" A man, obviously of Japanese descent, barged into the room. Shinichi immediately recognised that man who had his factory blown up – the very factory that had made that special machine that evil-he meant, Haibara needed to make the antidote – what were the chances...
"Idiot!" He then pointed a finger at Shinichi and continue to shout in broken, Japanese-accented English. "Wrong bozu! Wrong bozu!"
This time, another man who had been seating on Shinichi's right, stood up and jabbed his finger on the intruder's chest. "You said to take the boy who's not wearing a blue cap, so we took the boy not wearing the cap!"
Which descended bickering and wild gestures that ended in finger pointing and rough scuffs. No one made a move to stop the fight.
What are the chances? Him and his luck. He was so going to get Toyama to make him a lucky charm when he was back in Japan.
This was not natural.
He could safely conclude that he had just been mistakenly abducted by the Italian mafia who had been commissioned by a vengeful Japanese businessman who had been screwed over by the Yakuza.
At least it wasn't an "evil-mad scientist who's out to find the key to immortality in his genes or something" that kidnapped him.
Just a vengeful businessman who had no regard for his welfare.
Just his luck.
Suddenly a small paper bowl full of popcorn was trussed right in front of his chest.
He looked around and saw how everyone was helping themselves to bowls of popcorn that had materialised out of nowhere and distributed around the table, as if these kinds of things happened far too frequently for them.
Might as well, he thought as he dipped his hand into the popcorn bowl. He was supposed to be on vacation, wasn't he? He popped a popcorn into his mouth. This was more entertainment than he'd gotten in weeks.
First, lucky charm, then a psychologist...
No one's supposed to be this nonchalant and desensitised about being kidnapped after all.
-o-
Not long after the 'factory owner man' - as he dubbed the man in his mind, he hadn't bothered to find out his name - came, the window was hit by a rapid round of fire.
And everything descended into chaos.
Before he could dive under the dining table for cover, he was grabbed by the collar by the man who had first spoken to him - whom he dubbed Kidnapper One - and headed towards the barn just outside of the kitchen, where he was shoved into the arms of Kidnapper Two (the one who could speak decent English) where he was carried into the stables, with the man enveloping him like an armour, before finding cover behind a retaining wall. The man put him -surprisingly gently down – before starting to fire back with his hand gun.
He could hear snippets of commands being shouted in Japanese from the other side of the fire before the firing resumed, deafening his ears.
Why were the Yakuzas there? What could he do? What should he do? Where was the enemy firing from? That sounded like that that eight – no eleven guns from the other sides, four machine guns, two hand guns, three-
"F-Fu-Duck!"
On reflex, he instantly crouched to the floor, putting his hands over his head to protect his head from the blast – he had been in far too many situations like this to not know how to react.
Was that a grenade?! Molotov?! Bazooka?!
He didn't know what was coming at them and he couldn't see anything from where he was – it would have been a wasted effort to try with all the flashes and with his hands over his ears to dampen the machine gun firing sound. But there was no way he was going to let himself get hurt because he hadn't reacted fast enough.
A moment later, he realized from his peripheral view, that no one had taken cover and continued as if there wasn't an impending explosion heading their way. They remained where they were, still behind the barrels and the boxes and the furniture – he could see the kitchen through the window from where he was.
All of them continue to fire at the Yakuza and hadn't missed a beat.
And of course, as the seconds passed, the distinct lack of explosion was rather telling.
"F-Duck! Duck! Duck!"
This time, it came from the man hiding behind another retaining wall, three feet from his left – burly build with a thick moustache whom he's starting to think of as Kidnapper Three.
...Wait a minute...
"You can swear if you want. I have heard all of it before." It'll be hard pressed to find an eighteen-year-old (even if they've been shrunk to the size of a seven-year-old) who doesn't know any curse words. Especially with the people he hanged around with (Kogoro, the police, Nakamori-Keibu and Hattori just to name a few).
"No thanks. There's no way I am ever going to go through having my tongue scrubbed with soap by my mother." He could barely hear Kidnapper Two from the shooting, but he got the message.
People actually do that to their kids? He thought it was just a joke. A myth from the dark ages from the Grimmore Fairy Tale when there's no such thing as child abuse.
"I don't think people are going to pay attention with … all these...going on." And he gestured to the air - gun fight. Before he quickly put his finger back to his ears. Too loud, that had been a bad idea.
"Well, you haven't met an Italian Mafia mother before today, have you?"
"No?"
"Thought so. Look there," and gestured to the other end of the stable…
(He had to crane his neck and tiptoed just to be able to see – Urgh! If only he could have the antidote now!)
Where the Italian Matriarch was hitting a young man with a wooden spoon despite the threat they were under, all the while firing her own set of machine gun.
With only one hand.
Ah ya...That's taking a 'scary mom' to a whole new level.
"You could swear in Italian… not as if I would understand."
"You kids pick things up like a sponge. I'll rather take my chances."
Heh heh…Wait. If that's the case-
"And you're cursing in English because..."
"American movies." He commented on it off-handedly as he fired another round at the Yakuza. As if that said it all.
It probably did...Unfortunately.
…He'd never be able to see the word 'duck' the same way ever again.
-o-
Shinichi ended the whole affair with his usual dramatic antics by kicking the soccer ball in the air – one of Agasa's latest inventions – that combusted into a rainbow-coloured explosion, enough to grab everyone's attention long enough to get a cease fire.
Before heated words could be exchanged, his parents turned up in the Ferrari, and his father facilitated the whole discussion, translating for both parties – when did Dad learn Italian?
A consensus was quickly reached between Italian Mafias and the Japanese Yakuza-
Which was to gang up together to beat up the poor factory owner fellow.
(The man had been in debt and owed the Yakuza a lot of money...and probably did not have the means to pay for the dirty work he had the Mafias engaged in. Needless to say, the Mafia had a very easy decision to make.)
The Kudos didn't stay for the finale though, as they immediately hopped into the convertible once the discussion reached amicable terms and they had their son safely in their custody.
-o-
The wind blew in their faces as they sped through the Italian countryside, the luscious scenery much more glorious and awe-inspiring that the small square picture Shinichi gazed upon from the window of that tiny room at the Mafia's abode.
If only he could find it in him to appreciate the sight. Now that his mind was not addled with chloroform, he had more pressing issues, namely -
"You don't mind sharing with me what happened there? How you conveniently got the Yakuza to rescue me?"
"Let's just say that your parents are as famous as ever~!"
"Mom!"
"Oh fine…"
-FlashBack-
The demonstration was interrupted by a loud crash and the sound of broken wood.
Everyone turned around and through the open barn door, they saw a man getting into a car that had crashed into some barrels, with an unconscious boy over his shoulder, before driving off.
After getting out of their stupor - it wasn't every day]that they witnessed their son being kidnapped by anyone other than themselves -, they descended into hushed whispers to each other before Kudo Yukiko took a long deep breath and approached the other family that was huddling in the corner before coming face to face with a disagreeable man with an intense disapproving glare and stance, as if asking "how she dare to approached him..."
"Excuse me, Yakuza-san. I was wondering if you could help us. As you can see, we have a little predicament here." Yukiko asked.
"Why should I help you?" came out grumbling from the man – obviously the boss - interrupting her mid-sentence.
Yukiko responded by taking off her black wig, sunglasses and hat.
"Fujime Yukiko!" The man exclaimed in disbelief, pointing a shaking finger at her.
"You should take off yours too, darling." winking at her husband.
And as he did, one of the women in the group exclaimed "Kudo Yuusaku-san!" even as the rest of them were making lovey-dovey eyes at them.
"Would you help us?"
"Of course, anything for you!"
-End of FlashBack-
"Heh heh...Isn't that convenient… how did you know that he was a fan anyway?" He couldn't help but raise his eyebrow, even if there was no one to see it with him being at the back seat and the skepticism in his voice was adequately translated.
"He came to Yuu-chan's signing with his family just the other day and was immediately recognised me! We talked for, like, forever! So I knew he would come through if I asked~!" And before he could prompt her with more questions, his mother dropped the bombshell.
"And…~ we managed to get them help us find the people to make that little machine Ai-chan needed to make the antidote. So maybe we could get the machine delivered in two weeks time~! Isn't that exciting?"
"You got the Yakuzas to help you with that too?" He took back whatever he said about his parents. Had he ever told anyone that he loves his parents?
"That's right! Never would have thought our fame would be this useful even after so many years leaving the showbiz~." Heh heh...Isn't that what you always thought anyway?
"Are you still in contact with them? If that's the case, do you think you could get the Yakuza to get the factory in Japan back up and running anytime soon?
"And also ask the boy to return me my Tokyo Spirit cap back?"
-o-
In the end, Shinichi got his body back a few days before Ran's birthday and was able to surprise her by attending the birthday party even though he never got invited – after they did multiple check-ups to make sure that this change would be permanent, of course.
That particular reunion had been what he had been hoping for, and the kick to his face was worth it to see the breathtakingly beautiful smile on her face.
And it was definitely worth the Salvatore Ferragamo handbag that he had to empty his savings for as a bribe to 'persuade' her to work faster on the antidote.
He thought all his life would be swell from now on.
Until the next day when Ran brought some pictures of Conan-kun sleeping and being cooed and in embarrassingly awkward situations – which he recognised were most probably taken from his recent Italian not-holiday - in which Ran admitted to receiving it in the mail from Conan-kun's "parents".
Maybe just not as smooth sailing as he'd imagined it would be.
-o-
owari