So I wrote a one shot for a crack pairing I recently got invested in that was inspired by a few reblogged threads I had with @idontonlytalkaboutdcmk an well... I would expect them to be too in character as I've never written a dcmk fic before
It started with a heist, specifically this heist was another challenge from Jirokitchi to capture KID. I of course had made a point to make it a grand show with a ludicrous use of glitter and some peacock costumes and had been on my way to the rooftop to meet with Tantei-kun for our match. Only when I arrived there it wasn't Tantei-kun that was waiting for me but Kyogoku freaking Makoto! Shit!!!
"Ah, if it isn't the King of Kicks! What might being you up here for?" I grasped a flash bomb, ready to throw it down if he came too close, card gun held ready in the other hand. I contained a flinch when he held his arm out in a placating gesture.
"Wait KID-san, I mean you no harm this night. We just wish to talk and Conan told us the best way to do so uninturrupted is to wait up here."
Damn that brat! Wait... we!?
"You wish to... speak to me? Whatever for?"
The answer came from behind this time, "Because we have a proposal for you KID-Sama!"
I whirl about to find the Suzuki heiress guarding the door, furred coatwrappedtightly about hero guard against the wind. I should have known she'd be with him, those two are rarely apart when they are within the same city. I stepped to the side, carefully keeping Kyogoku in the corner of my eye as I addressed her.
"Suzuki-San! What a pleasure to see you here! I always enjoy the chance to interact with my number one fan, however whatever are you doing up here, it's dark too cold for the heiress of the Suzuki Company to be in this weather."
Suzuki-San let out a giggle at that, basking in my praise, "Well this sort of conversation is beat done with all parties present, ne Kid-sama?"
"And what sort of conversation might that be?" I quirk my eyebrow beneath hat, curious.
"Me and Sono were wondering if perhaps... you'd like to join us." Kyogokui cut in, inching closer like a panther stalking its prey.
I could feel my eye twitching as I suppressed the urge to blink, "Join...you?"
"AS OUR BOYFRIEND!" Suzuki-san squealed with barely contained excitment.
Are... are they joking with me!? A thief? Date them!? I let out a cackle, "Ah I see, this is quite the joke Suzuki-San and I do love my fans, however that would be rather counterintuitive would it not? I'm a thief!"
I began to back away slowly, silently preparing a magically appearing rose as an apology when I felt myself bump into a muscled chest. Kyogoku! Strong arms placed themselves on my wrists, preventing from reaching my arsenal of hidden tricks, a trap.
"Come now KID-san, this isn't a joke." His voice rumbled behind me. I felt myself beginning to tense before forcing myself to relax, Poker Face, Kaito... keep calm.
As if in response to my brief loss of control I felt Kyogoku's grip drift from my wrist, coming to rest on my shoulders. "Me and Sono have discussed this and we both agree, if you would have us we would have you."
My heart is racing, why is it racing!? Fear? Am I afraid!? Why would I be... why haven't I thrown the flash bomb capsule down yet!? My eyes darted between the Suzuki heiress, bright and hopeful, to the hands of the martial artist gripping my shoulders, strong and protective. Then my earpiece buzzed, Jii warning me of the approach of the oncoming Task Force.
I jerk from Kyogoku's grip, throwing the flash bomb down. Suzuki-San shrieked as the light temporarily blinded her. Kyogoku reached out, attempting to stop me however I was too quick even for him as I made a mad dash to the edge of the roof, leaping off just in time for Nakamori-keibu to burst through the door.
As my wings flew me away from that strange encounter I could feel the lingering warmth from where Kyogoku's hands had brushed against my skin cooling. I scolded myself for missing it, as the Kaitou KID I cannot afford to allow myself to become attached, not while Pandora is out there. If only this had ended there... but alas that was not the last I would see of the couple.
Hello I am that 3am anon😌 and I am back with your daily dose of my 3am thoughts
Imagine the gosho gang (shinran, kaiao, heizuka and sonomako) being part of a REAL gang (YES this is basically the opposite of the canon DC😂)
With HeiZuka being the "hackers". Idk I just think that the two of them are good with computers and stuff😂 and for me they are the couple that has the most brains if combined🤣. So basically the smartest of the bunch.
With KaiAo they are in charge of the disguises of the gang aka the "undercover or spies". Because duh?? Kaito Kid???
SonoMako with resources and strength (sonoko handles the finances and funds the gang and she also always know the recent happenings because hello??? it's sonoko😂. While makoto is in charge of training the new recruites on how to fight and he is also the strongest fighter of the gang)
And finally, ShinRan being the "face" of the gang, their job is literally what it is, they are the ones who interact with their clients and they are also the ones who make the deals with their allies/enemies. Because Shinichi can be very convincing if needed and he is also good at lying and can see if a person is lying. And with Ran well because she has an innocent face😂 and it can make the clients lower their guard down (which is honestly one of the reasons why Shinichi brings her, aside from him wanting her at his side AT ALL TIMES 👀) but honestly she is there to fight if needed and to protect Shinichi.
.....3am anon how dare you plant this idea in me and then leave it as is and nothing else
Someone?? Anyone?? Write a fic?? Draw an art?? Make a movie??!
I have no excuse for how late this is. I hope Anon sees it!
6. Congratulations! One of your dreams has finally come true. Let me give you a big hug and wow, you’re warm…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kyogoku Makoto-san defeated Douglas Hans-san of Germany today to become the youngest Olympic gold medalist in karate. The mild-mannered Tokyoite, who advanced to the senior division only this year, was a surprise pick for the Japanese Olympic team, defeating established champions such as Matsumiya Ichirou and Nihonmatsu Jiro for the honor.
Many were shocked when he advanced to the finals, which guaranteed at least a silver medal for Japan. In that last match, Douglas-san was overwhelmingly favored for gold, and the German karateka maintained a two-point lead over Kyogoku-san for most of the match. However, the Japanese karateka scored a three-point kick with five seconds left to go, winning the fight and securing first place.
When interviewed about his extraordinary determination, Kyogoku-san only said that there was someone who motivated him to keep going, and began to stutter so badly his next words were incomprehensible.
Sonoko pushed her way through journalists, well-wishers, and karate fans to reach her boyfriend, the Olympic gold medalist. She couldn’t believe it. He was currently talking to a Nichiuri reporter, and his face was tomato-red. “Makoto-san!”
He saw her. He turned away from the reporter and began to push in her direction. The crowd followed, but Makoto steadily waded through them, excusing himself politely but firmly, until he was close enough to touch.
“You did it!” Sonoko exclaimed, starting to fling her arms around him, but he said—
“Sonoko-san, wait!”
Sonoko froze and lowered her arms. This close, she could feel heat emanating from him. She could smell the sweat that soaked the heavy cloth of his gi.
He lifted the medal over his head, taking it off.
“What are you—” Sonoko began.
If possible, Makoto turned even redder. Taking a half-step closer, he placed it around Sonoko’s neck instead.
“You… inspire me,” he said hoarsely, by way of explanation. “This was for you.”
“Oh,” said Sonoko, also blushing. Stupidly, she babbled, “Can I hug you now?”
His eyes widened at her response, and she seized him around the chest without waiting for an answer, sweaty gi be damned. Crowd around them be damned. One or two people around them cheered, and a camera was clicking away.
“Congratulations,” she mumbled. She began to relax into his comforting solidity as his arms wrapped around her. “You’re so warm…” she said contentedly.
Wait…
Sonoko straightened and shoved a hand onto his forehead.
She gasped. “You’re burning up!”
He smiled weakly. “Had to do it… For you.”
Then he toppled over.
The newly-minted gold medalist was taken away in an ambulance, his girlfriend by his side.
*
Makoto blinked blurrily. He was lying in a soft bed, not his. There was a familiar shape to the side. “Sonoko… san?”
The shape in Sonoko’s colors stirred. Makoto’s eyes focused just in time to see joy springing into her face. “Makoto-san! You’re awake!”
He looked around. The room was large and comfortable, carpeted, with sunlight streaming in through the big French panes opposite him. The furniture looked heavy and expensive. “Am I in your house?”
Sonoko nodded. “It’s more comfortable than a hospital, and Dr. Ichikura’s the best, it made sense! And she says there’s nothing to worry about, you’ll be fine now that you’ve had water and rest. You—” she pressed on his hand fretfully — “really had me scared.”
Makoto looked down at her hand on his. It gave him a fluttery feeling in his stomach. If he flipped his hand over, he could squeeze it back.
Or he could keep it still. “I am sorry that I caused you distress.”
“You should take better care of yourself!” she insisted. “Even if — even if you’re doing it for me.” She looked fierce. “Especially since.”
She really was upset. The Olympic medal wasn’t around her neck anymore. “I promise I will,” he said, chagrined. “Please don’t be upset, Sonoko-san.”
Her hand was still on his. “You were amazing,” she admitted grudgingly. “Not that you should—”
She cut off as he sat up, flipping his hand to take hers. He pulled, making her scramble onto the bedspread on her knees.
“Wh—”
He looked her in the eye. “You were giving me a hug, I believe. Before.”
Sonoko’s mouth dropped open. Color crept into her face, but neither of them looked away. “O-okay,” she said.
She turned and leaned against him, settling into the crook of his arm. He hugged her close, and then she snuggled even more deeply against him. Her small body was warm at his side. Makoto let his eyes drift closed.
Summary: In Kenfair, Shinichi and Ran are investigating the happenings to their friend's disappearance. In Camden, two criminals are searching for the missing thaumogenic tubes that belonged to a man now dead. In the Estyan Capital, a knight and a witch are sent to ensure the necropolis is not opened. And at the middle of it all, is the link of Suzuki Sonoko's disappearance. // Fantasy!AU.
Notes: It’s Shinichi day. Happy birthday to the boy. Have something I’ve been slowly working on while working through this pandemic. ((Also, yes, I created an entire fantasy world and did all the world building just for the funsies. just. yeah.))
The knock comes in the dead of night.
From where he’s been lying restless in his bed, Makoto shifts. The knock isn’t loud enough for it to be originating from their home, but rather from the annex next door, from their shop.
A customer this late?
Makoto thinks that no good can come from this.
Still, it’s probably for the best if he takes control of their late-night guest instead of his father. He’s always been strong, and not altogether incapable of using the weapons that his family forges.
He pushes himself out of bed, pulls his blanket off and grabs his shirt, trying to make himself somewhat decent despite the bags he knows pull at the skin beneath his eyes.
The stairs creak on his way downstairs, but his father has always been capable of sleeping through louder sounds. He passes the main house, through the side door that leads out into the shop, and heads to the door.
Makoto isn’t a fool: He doesn’t unchain the latch as he opens it.
Outside, there is little light except that from the waxing moon, and as such, it’s almost difficult to make out the figure in front of him. Even his glasses don’t offer much help for his sight when it comes to light. What he can see however, is that the figure of his guest.
Petite, small. A female covering their face with a hood, her hands wrapped around her from the cold.
Perhaps his first thought should not be assassin, since there is no reason for either Makoto, nor his father to be assassinated, but the threat comes to mind and he feels the overwhelming urge to shut the door.
“I’m sorry,” comes a whisper, finally, “I know it’s late. I was hoping I could buy something.”
The voice is familiar.
Makoto has heard it before. One of the heiresses of the Suzuki family: Suzuki Sonoko. The younger of two sisters, she happens to be the most sheltered. Makoto has heard rumours before – that her constitution is weak, that she remains inside the Suzuki mansion because the outside is too much for her body.
Looking at her now, Makoto knows the rumours are false: she does not look an inch like a woman too weak for life.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Makoto says, for lack of anything else to say.
Sonoko shivers, nods her head. She says, “Well yes, I know that but… It couldn’t wait.”
The only time Makoto has seen her before, was during the witching trails, when her friends had been competing to see if they could advance their magicking titles. She’s cheered them on and raced onto the field when they’d advanced as if she couldn’t wait then, either.
He sort of gets the impression that a lot of things can’t wait when it comes to Suzuki Sonoko.
So, he closes the door. Unlatches it and allows it to swing open. If Suzuki Sonoko is an assassin set out to murder him, then he supposes that he’ll admit the foolery to be all his. But for now, he nods his head and allows her to enter the shop.
Nervous, she does.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Sonoko says, and Makoto finds himself waving the concern off, finds that his words fade away as he closes the door behind her, turning around to face her.
Now that she is inside, she lowers her hood.
Her hair, once long and plaited, two plaits that usually fell to just above her hips, now sits lose just past her chin. It’s uneven, hacked off with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down Makoto’s spine.
Despite that, she looks beautiful.
“Oh,” Sonoko says, watching him staring, “I suppose I should have explained who I was before asking entry…”
He’s staring.
She probably thinks he’s staring because Sonoko is a Lady, because she’s nobility and nobles don’t tend to be seen out after dark, not when they can remain in their mansions, sleeping in the height of luxury.
“I know you, Lady Suzuki,” Makoto says, after a moment. He turns his gaze from her, focusing on the sharp metals of the knives he’s helped his father forge, trying to stifle the blush rising up his neck. “I just don’t understand what urgency would bring you to our shop.”
Sonoko glances around the store.
“Well, this is the blacksmiths, isn’t it?”
Makoto offers out a stuttered yes. They forge weapons from fire, for knights and soldiers alike, some imprinted with charms to help the wielder, and others without, but he doesn’t see how this would help her.
The Suzuki family has their own armoury, after all. Maybe she’d need to ask some of the soldier’s in her employ for something, but there is nothing she would go without.
“Good,” Sonoko says, when she notices the nod. She’s looking at the various weapons, moving from piece to piece, her finger brushing against the blades as if to assess how sharp they are. “Well, I’d like to buy a dagger.”
“A dagger…?”
She turns to him, not with a quickness that is dangerous, but rather with an urgency that is desperate.
“Or a knife,” she continues, “as long as it is sharp, and small, and altogether unassuming. I’m – No, I – I need one urgently.”
Makoto’s mouth feels dry. He says, “Give me a few days and I’ll make the best knife you’ve ever see-”
“No.” Sonoko pitches forward, eyes wide, forgetting herself. It’s only now, that Makoto really realises the pack she’s wearing. As if she’s gearing up to go somewhere far away. “Whatever you have in this store, whatever you trust is good enough.”
There are no fancy jewel embroidered knives or daggers in the shop, not at the moment. They either have standard weaponry for adventurers that come into the shop, or they have better weapons that are directly commissioned by nobility or the military.
“We’ve only got… weapons below your status at the moment,” Makoto says, and his gaze settles on her now, to the tremble of her shoulders. “I’m sorry… My Lady.”
“I don’t care if it’s beneath me,” she says, “I need to leave, and I can’t without a weapon. I’ll take a kitchen knife, if that’s all you can offer.”
Makoto frowns. He’s not going to sell Suzuki Sonoko a knife.
“We’ve got a dagger in the back,” Makoto says, thinking over the merchandise they have for sale. “It’s a smaller one, a curved blade that’s pretty light. I can bring it out for you.”
“Please,” Sonoko gasps. “However, much it costs, I just need it…”
Outside, the sky flashes with lightning.
Sonoko flinches.
“You know what,” she says, throwing herself forward, in front of him, her arms out as if to bar him from going away into the storage cupboard, “We don’t need to go back for that one, I found one I like.”
She leans forward, grabbing hold of a knife that has a hilt too wide to comfortably remain in her hands. Makoto tries not to wince. While it’s possible to hold onto the hilt, to keep the knife in her hand, it’d be nigh impossible to keep a proper grip during a fight.
“Lady Suzuki,” Makoto says, his voice low. “That one isn’t suitable for–”
“I-It’s fine,” her trembling is even worse than it had been before. “I’m – I’ll take this one please, uh–”
“Makoto,” he says, “Kyogoku Makoto…”
“Kyogoku-san,” Sonoko says, “this is the one that I want.”
He leans forward, glances her up and down. Perhaps it’s overstepping his boundaries – scratch that, it definitely is – but Makoto settles his hands on her shoulder’s. The muscles are unbearably tense.
“Forgive me, Lady Suzuki,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “But what are you so scared of? Why would a noble like yourself even need a dagger with such urgency?”
She blinks. And then, turning away, “I need to go away. It isn’t safe.”
“What’s dangerous enough that you would be forced to flee in the middle of the night?” Makoto asks.
“The manor,” Sonoko looks up, and now, she meets his gaze with a steady determination. The fear doesn’t go away, but there’s a bravery behind her eyes too. He can almost fall in love with someone who has a bravery like that. “I overheard something I shouldn’t – a plot.”
A plot?
“If I stay,” Sonoko says, her voice low. “Then I don’t think I’ll survive it…”
So, she will go alone? Into a world she knows nothing about, fighting to survive as someone with little possessions when she’d been raised with so many? Even now, she cannot hide the wealth she’s come from – even dressed down, she looks dressed up.
“You’ll be killed?”
“In the simplest of terms, yes.”
Makoto takes a moment to consider everything. His father has years left in him, has never struggled to keep the shop up and running. He’d probably be fine if Makoto were to…
“I’ll come with you,” Makoto says. He feels bold declaring it, but honestly, he doubts that Sonoko will survive by herself. Not with mercenaries spread so thickly through the forests, not when the world is not as peaceful as it claims to be. “You won’t have to go alone.”
Sonoko’s eyes widen. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I don’t even know you.” Sonoko says. “And you don’t understand the severity of this situation… if you help me, you could die.”
But if he doesn’t help, and this woman is killed regardless?
“Let me pack some things,” Makoto says, “I won’t let you go alone.”
-
Makoto doesn’t take his time packing; He fears Sonoko will leave if he does.
Instead, he grabs the essentials. A spare set of clothes, the pouch of coins he’d been saving back in order to commission a gift for his father’s nearing birthday and the first dagger his father had made him. He sheathes the blade around his waist, and then, decides that if he’s going to help protect someone with a death warrant, he probably needs a second weapon too.
He’ll grab his sword from the storage cupboard, along with the more fitting dagger he’d had in mind for Sonoko.
As he heads downstairs, he wraps some bread and cheese in a cloth, placing it in the backpack he’s grabbed. Other things too – a vial of leftover medicinal herbs that they won’t miss, and a small whetstone from the back, to keep their weapons maintained.
Once he’s grabbed everything he can think of, he heads out to Sonoko, breathing out a sigh of relief when he returns and she’s still there.
“Here.” He hands the dagger out to her, urging her to take the hilt. “This one is probably more suitable.”
“Kyogoku-san… I can’t–”
“Call me Makoto,” he says, quietly, “and you can. You should – this is your life on the line, you should take all the help you can get.”
Slowly, Sonoko nods. She looks like she’s biting the inside of her cheek, chewing on the premise of taking help. Eventually, she nods her head.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I mean it… Makoto-san… really. Thank you.”
Makoto nods his head, stiff. He says, “Lets go then, Lady Suzuki.”
~~
Part One
~~
Sonoko Suzuki had gone missing.
It had been a weird happenstance from the beginning. She'd disappeared in the dead of night and according to the many witnesses asked, not a person in Kenfair had spotted sight of her during the hours of her assumed disappearance. There'd been no ransom note, and the only lead left behind had been in the way her bedsheets hadn't been mussed, almost as if whomever had stolen her away had done so before she'd even had the chance to sleep.
Folklore warned the citizens of faeries coming to steal her away. The youngest of two, she'd been desirable in her own right.
But Kudo Shinichi was not a believer in folklore, and he knew there was something deeper at play.
Blaming Suzuki's disappearance on faeries was the same as saying there was nothing to be done to find her. And surely, there were clues. There was a case to be solved, and there would be evidence for him to look into. Suzuki might have been a pain, and no good at helping him draw out magic circles past passing him more chalk, but they'd been friends since they were children, and Shinichi couldn't bear the idea of never finding her.
Neither, it seemed, could Ran. Their mutual friend, and the only reason Suzuki didn't just throw chalk at his head whenever he asked.
In fact, it had been Ran who'd told Shinichi of their friend's disappearance in the first place, flinging his door open while he'd been in the middle of weighing out carbon to alchemise it into more writing chalk. The manor always needed more chalk.
"Shinichi," Ran had said that morning, his name familiar on her tongue. Usually, her voice held fondness, or exasperation, but today, it sounded like it was hitched in her throat, terror accompanying each word. "Shinichi, Sonoko's gone."
Shinichi had turned, looking her up and down. Ran's terror, while leaving him cold, seemed almost like an overreaction, and yet ice ran along the bare of his back. "She likes going on walks, you know that. She'll come back eventually."
Except, Sonoko hadn't come back. Half a day passed as they were waiting, eyes narrowing at the doorframe at every shift in the air as if their friend would walk past with a parasol over her shoulder, complaining about the humidity of the summer air.
Which brought them to now.
"Ran," Shinichi says, his voice quiet. "Sonoko's gone."
Ran sends him a look that is half frustrated, and half why don't you just believe me when I speak? It'd really save us both a lot of time.
"She is," Ran repeats. "I told you that this morning."
"I don't get it," Shinichi continues, pushing himself up. He steps over a poorly drawn magic circle, alchemical symbols half rubbed out to keep the circle from activating and makes his way to the door. "No one's been acting like she's gone."
"Her sister’s gone out to ask," Ran says, "looking for any sights of people..."
"But inside the manor. There's been no rushing, no one's asked us about whether we've seen her or not." Shinichi shakes his head, lifting his fingers up as he tries to think. "I don't understand. There's usually a bigger investigation when people go missing."
Ran offers him a smile. It's strained, half curling at her lips as if it doesn't know how to properly place the expression. Not that she's unaccustomed to smiling - she's got the prettiest smile that Shinichi's seen. It's just... stress and a Mouri are never things that work well together.
Shinichi's seen her lose her temper enough times to attest to that.
"I thought," Ran says, "since you're so good at solving mysteries, you'd have sprung immediately on the chance to find her."
"This isn't the first time Suzuki's gone missing." Shinichi lifts a finger to his chin, takes a moment to think. "The last time I looked for her, we climbed through nettles to find her hidden away in the clearing. She likes having a moment away, we all know that."
Of course, she did. Suzuki had always been flighty. She loved socialising, yes, but sometimes she needed time away. And Shinichi understood it, really - he did. It must have become overbearing, sometimes, to live amongst spellcasters and be unable to use spells herself.
"Maybe in the evening," Ran says, "but she's never awake unless someone forces her up. She wakes late, we both know that."
Shinichi hums. That's true at least.
"Can you help me find her now, please?" Ran sighs. "I'm worried."
"You're always worried about something."
"I know," Ran says. "But not like this. I normally worry about you creating fire when you alchemize. Or about Sonoko throwing chalk and hitting you in the eye. Not about my friends going missing."
Shinichi nods, moving back towards Ran and resting a hand on her shoulder. Ran’s shoulders relax, marginally.
"We should look for clues," he says. "See if we can find anything to base things off. Will we be able to search her room?"
Ran gives him a look that suggests he's an idiot. "Why wouldn't we search her room Shinichi?"
"Well," Shinichi says, "I'm a guy for one. People might consider it uncouth."
"Well they can all shut up and leave their judgements for after we find Sonoko." She leans forward, grabbing his wrist. She's gentle with her hold, the only rough part of her, are the callouses from years of practise with the sword she wears sheathed around her waist. "Until then, I don't quite care what anyone else thinks."
Shinichi has always found that he quite likes this side of Ran.
"Alright then, lead the way."
-
Suzuki's room is, for lack of other words, cluttered. There’s plenty of moving pictures and a mosaic adorning the walls, jewellery and small ornaments across each surface. On the dressing table, there are hairbrushes and headbands, small vials of nail polish and other makeup brands in small piles that must mean something to Suzuki, but nothing to Shinichi.
There is also, as he steps into the room, an overpowering scent of incense that burns at his nostrils. It’s a mixture of citrus with some plant, although he can’t quite tell while it’s mixed with the former. They don’t seem to blend well, at least, Shinichi wouldn’t say they would.
All incense ever seems to bring him, is a headache.
"She's still using those incense sticks?"
"Sonoko likes sweet things, you know that." Ran says, and her tone is fond. She doesn’t seem as affected by the overbearing smell. "It's time to get over it and start looking for clues."
Shinichi ignores the impending headache, and does as Ran suggests, glancing around. The room is familiar, although he’s not spent to much time over the years in Suzuki’s room. The bed, like it always has been, has been pushed up as close to the arched windows as possible.
Despite the warnings, the repeated insistence that it’s too exposed, Suzuki had insisted she be so close to the windows, that she liked to sit on the small bench that resulted from where her windows jutted out in a large curve. Even the bed didn’t agree with its placement, not quite fitting within the empty space.
The bed is made, pristine, as always. Soft cushions adorn the head of the bed, symmetrical in a way Suzuki had never really showed care for. Often, she would push them off onto the floor and just sleep with the pillows on her bed. The only cushion she ever kept on the bed, is the small cushion with flowers embroidered on the front, a gift from her older sister, Ayako.
Shinichi moves forward, glances at the flowered cushion in the middle of the bed. He can’t tell whether the bed had been left this way overnight, or whether the maids had set everything out and made it again early this morning.
"They didn't," Ran says, and it's only then that Shinichi realises he'd been mumbling to himself. "Her maid, Kaguya, said the bed was made when she came to check on Sonoko this morning."
Odd.
“Did Kaguya straighten the bed up this morning anyway?” Shinichi asks.
"You mean," Ran says, tone dry. "Did Sonoko make it herself and have Kaguya make it more presentable? Or did she never go to sleep in the first place?"
"Exactly."
"Kaguya didn't make the bed, Shinichi." Ran says.
So, either Sonoko has gotten very suddenly proficient at housework, or, she'd never gotten into bed in the first place. Shinichi knows which option he'd bet on.
“Right,” Shinichi nods. “Well, that gives us a timeframe at least. Suzuki left dinner with us just after eight, yesterday. And she usually sleeps before midnight. That’s a four-hour gap for her disappearance.”
“Unless she stayed up, for some reason.”
It’s not impossible. There could be plenty of reasons for Suzuki not to be asleep by then. She could have had trouble sleeping, or, it was also possible that someone else had made the bed in an effort to keep people from realising Suzuki had been taken later in the night.
“It’s not a full timeframe, but we can use the four hours as a working reference.” Shinichi says. “There’s a lot of possibilities, but let’s get more information before we start making theories.”
Not that he could stop himself, already, from theorising. Unlike Ran, however, he was capable of keeping himself from committing to any theory until it was more solid.
“Let’s check the wards,” Shinichi says. “I’ll check the window one, if you can check the door?”
Ran nods, turning and heading back for the wards. Shinichi steps around the bed, to the gap between Suzuki’s bed and to the small bench beneath the glass. There, carved into the wood, faintly glowing in response to his magic, sits the protection spell he and Ran had instilled together to keep Suzuki safe.
A small carving, the ward seems more ovular than circular, although Shinichi knows the design is more the fault of an unsteady hand rather than due to aesthetic choice. Still, ovals worked as efficiently as magic circles did, so long as the lines and symbols written inside were sectioned in the same way, with the same percentages of the shape filled.
Magic could exist inside any shape; It was just easier to partition a circle.
Shinichi presses his hand against the sigil, eyes closing as he focuses on the familiar warmth of magic. Each person’s magic had its individual signature: a taste, a feeling, or even a smell. His own, from what Ran had told him, was the tingle of warmth in her fingertips, with the scent of parchment and newly printed books. And Ran’s he knew, felt like trust and had the taste of fresh air following rainfall.
If someone had altered the wards in any way, there would be a discrepancy in the magic, and their signature would be left behind.
All Shinichi could sense, was rainfall and trust.
“Ran?”
“The door’s not been tampered with.”
Shinichi’s forehead crinkles into a frown as he turns to face Ran. “The window’s ward is the same.”
Suggesting someone hadn’t broken in. Suzuki must have opened the door for someone, since the wards were designed to protect and keep anyone intending her harm out.
“So, it wasn’t a stranger?” Ran asks, her voice falling quiet. “Then who could it be?
“I’m not sure yet,” Shinichi says. Glancing back to the jewellery shows that most seems untouched, suggesting Sonoko’s disappearance doesn’t seem linked to monetary purposes. Her drawers, just below a mosaic of the sun, and the jewellery on there, too, was untouched.
His gaze settles on the mosaic. In the middle of the sun, the centre circle was filled with a half-waning moon and another smaller sun to symbolise the yin and yang of day and night. It was filled with bright gemstones between more muted ceramic colouring.
Every time Shinichi had been in Suzuki’s room in the past - which, admittedly was sparse and only for the maintenance of the wards - the mosaic had been complete.
Now, the moon was missing two of the gemstones that had been there in the past.
“Ran,” Shinichi says, “tell me if I’m wrong, but Sonoko’s mosaic wasn’t broken or missing any parts in the past, was it?”
Ran shakes her head. “Sonoko loves that mosaic. She’d have told me if it had. Why... what is...?”
She leans forward, looking at the mosaic.
“Oh,” Ran says, quiet. “Those gemstones...”
“I think,” Shinichi says, quiet. “We’ve got an official clue. Let’s see if anyone’s sold two gems in town since last night.”
