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#aoyama gosho should not be allowed in the kitchen
yyuuraii · 19 days
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to non detective conan fans this is like finding out that sasuke and naruto are cousins after decades since their manga release. Check on your kaishin shipper friends today
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darkspace7 · 7 years
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What Lay Within
"Ten years have passed since Shinichi's first encounter with the Black Organization and since then life has moved on. Despite this fact it seems that the man still hasn't gotten any better at taking care of himself properly. Its a good thing that his apprentice is rather apt at playing the role of a mother hen then isn't it?" [Part 1 of the "Elpis" series]
Words: 4,400+
Rating: T
A/N: A story in which Shinichi really needs to stop being an idiot and take better care of himself, Mitsuhiko is a worried mother hen and quite possibly as stubborn as Shinichi, and where the curiosity of teenage detectives is quite the damnable little thing.
Disclaimer: This writing piece is a work of fanfiction and thus not intended for profit in any sense of the word. It is merely a fan creation meaning I do not own Detective Conan or its characters and as such all rights are reserved by Gosho Aoyama and the appropriate such parties.
“And what lay within the container were all the ills of the world which, upon being opened, surged forth to wreak havoc upon humanity. All of them save for one. A minuscule speck of light left behind in the dark depths of the box. And what did they call this little light shining like a beacon in the darkness? Hope.”
“Um...Sensei?”
Bzzzt
“Kudo-sensei?”
Bzzzzzzzt
“Hello? Sensei? It's me do you think you could open the gate?...Please?”
He sighed, letting his finger fall from the buzzer. The lack of response was not unexpected but still disheartening all the same. 'Maybe he really isn't here...Still, I should probably check. Just to make sure.'
Hands slid the nameplate to the side to reveal the keypad underneath. A set of numbers was tapped in with practised ease, and the loud clank of a mechanism provided that had indeed been the correct sequence. Carefully the plate was slid back and he moved to intercept the unlocked gate. Paying no mind to the groan of the metal as it swung on reluctant hinges the visitor pressed forward up the path to the entry. However, upon reaching the stone steps he came to a stop.
A contemplative gaze scrolled across them for a moment before coming to settle on a particular area. He knelt down, fingers tracing along the stonework until they came upon a barely perceptible irregularity. There the digits hovered poised for a second, then proceeded to be pressed down into the spot. A concealed latch swung away to reveal a compact compartment that lay flush with the stone and within this secret hideaway was a keyring utterly overflowing with what appeared -to the causal observer- to be several sets of identical keys. Palming the ring, he stood and made his way over to the door. He flipped through the keys, singling out a solitary piece of metal from its siblings and slid it into the lock. Hand on the door, he stopped.
'Just take a quick look around then come right back out. Quit worrying so much Tsuburaya. It'll be fine.' With a shake of his head, he twisted the handle and peered into the darkened maw that lie before him.
'Or...so I hope...'
The young man slid over to the security panel where it stood upon the wall and quickly jabbed in the 4-digit passcode; the light embedded into the casing flashed ominously for a half-second then it shifted to a benign shade of green. Finished, he cast a cursory glance over the darkened foyer, having let his gaze run along a bit before finally coming to rest upon the shoe cupboard that sat off to the side. He frowned at what he saw residing within.
'His shoes are still there and they don't seem to have been moved recently. So it seems that he is indeed in. Although, if that is the case then why didn't he come and answer the door? Maybe...he was just too caught up in something and unable to do so? Or perhaps he just didn't hear?' The explanation sounded weak even to himself but still... “Hello, Kudo-sensei?” He called out tentatively, “It's me Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko. Seeing as you weren't answering I took the liberty of letting myself in. I hope you don't mind...”
He listened as the words were met only with silence he tried to stave off the strange sense of unease that arose with it. Wordlessly, his trainers were exchanged for a set of house-scuffs and carefully tucked away beside the set of shoes that had already lay nestled within and then the teen set off in search for the wayward man.
He set about methodically checking the house, feet padding noiselessly against the floor as he traversed room after room. Through his search small but definite signs of life became apparent; a coffee pot with a dark ring of brew staining the bottom and a handful of dishes in the sink that desperately needed to be washed in the kitchen, some books tossed about that had to be reshelved in the library, and a few other items of the like. Though it wasn't until he reached the study that he made any significant headway.
A swath of light pierced the shadows from where it filtered through the a crack in the framework. With hand on the knob, he silently braced himself and slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside.
'Oh my god...'
A strangled noise escaped him and he felt himself immobilized for a beat...then two...before his mind elected to kicked back into gear.
The study was, in no short terms, trashed. A number of books and papers had taken it upon themselves to haphazardly sprawl over every single bit of available space, of which seemed to include: the surface of the desk, the decently-sized couch off to the side, and even the very floor of the room itself. In fact, the only area that appeared not to have been affected by the overflow was a tiny spot in the centre of the room in which rested a chair, legs akimbo from having toppled over messily onto its side. And as things would have it, not more than hair's breath away lay its former occupant: face-down and unmoving.
“Kudo-san!”
Need for subtlety discarded, the door was immediately thrown back to allow access. He quickly crossed the study, taking care to dodge the hazards scattered about to be at the man's side. ('When coming across a crime scene do your best to try not to disturb what's already there. You don't want to accidentally contaminate the evidence present, understood?' A voice that sounded eerily like the prone form before him reminded. But why on earth would he even think to need such a thing because this was most certainly not a case and his teacher couldn't possibly be-) He shut down that train of thought immediately and willed himself to take a few unsteady breaths.
“Shit...” He swore, devoting his full attention to the fallen figure.
The teen lifted his hand with a practised motion and gently pressed it to the other's throat, steadfastly ignoring the slight tremble of the digits as he checked for a pulse. '...Ah there!' Mitsuhiko felt a rush of air leave him in relief. Faint and unsteady but unmistakably there was a heartbeat. He mentally thanked whatever entities that had opted listen that what he had knelt by was, in fact, not his teacher's corpse, but instead a warm-blooded, breathing, and most certainly live human being. That relief however was quick to flee once he took note of his condition.
'He's unconscious. Skin's flushed and very hot to the touch. Breathing is somewhat strained yet remains at a steady pace. So not maybe not dead, yes, but definitely ill.'
“Kudo-san, now this is probably going sound rather unpleasant in your current state but I'm going need you to wake up just for a little bit okay? Do you think you could do that?” He gave the man's shoulder a firm shake. And then another.  “Hey, the floor is absolutely no place to be taking a nap right now so get up. Sensei!” But it was no use. Mitsuhiko groaned softly,  'Its no good. He's really out.' The teen shot a baleful look at the limp form before he turned away, thoughts turning once again to the study he which he and the other now stood.
The level of mess present was rather strange for the usually tidy detective. While normally, a touch of clutter could be dismissed as a possible by-product brought about by his stricken state, the sheer amount that had seemingly managed to accumulate was simply not something that he found could be easily explained away by a just a day or two of muzzy-mindedness. This, coupled with the days-old signs of life he had observed on the earlier walkthrough of the house had lent weight to the possibility that this mess might have something to do with his extended absence as well as apparent illness.
'So...what? He just decided go and seclude himself with virtually no contact to the outside world all so that he might work nonstop up until he reached the very point of exhaustion?' Mitsuhiko stared at the man for a moment. 'Actually, yeah that sounds like something he would do.'
'Still...to cause such a mess in such short period of time! Okay so my last visit might have been a week or two ago and but I know for a fact that there was no such mess in here or any other part of the house for that matter. Well...that I could see anyway.'
He sighed. “Well whatever the case let's see if we can get you somewhere a bit more comfortable than the floor. Your room perhaps?” Carefully, he slid the slumbering form up off the floor and into his arms with a surprising amount of ease. 'Huh?...I know I might not be the strongest male out there but...should he have really been that easy to lift?' A shake of the head to rid himself of the thought, he stood then proceeded to pick his way back out of the study with the elder detective in tow.
Once having delivered the older man carefully to the soft confines of his bed Mitsuhiko went on the hunt for a scrap of cloth and small basin. Upon successful location, he'd set to work dampening the material in the now-filled container and tentatively let it come to rest on the man's too-warm forehead. He drew back, retreating to desk chair he had stationed himself for the time being. The rhythmic tap-tap of fingers against the fabric of his pants leg had done little to alleviate the percolated anxiousness that slowly dripped through as he sat in silent vigil.
It was quite some time later (perhaps an hour or two if the barely perceptible shift in shadows through the farside windows were any indication) before he found his attention being dragged away from his internal musings by the slight motion of the man in the bed.
He watched as Shinichi shifted a touch as the stirrings of consciousness pulled him from fevery depths. The slight furrowing of dark brows as it became apparent that these were indeed soft sheets that he was residing beneath and not the rock hard floor of his study, a confusion which apparently seemed only to deepen as he registered the presence of something pleasantly cool and damp on his forehead, leaching away minute portions of that pervasive heat. Hazy blue eyes opened just a sliver to stare up into the darkness of the bedroom and small noise slipped past the man's lips. That was all the incentive needed for the teenaged detective to be up at his bedside in an instant.
“You finally awake?” The teen's voice caused him to jolt slightly shift his head towards the direction of the sound. “Hey there.” Lips quirked up into a soft smile. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Mitsuhiko? Wha-”
“Hold on to that thought for just a second, I need to check your temperature. Could you do me a favour and stick this under your tongue? Thank you.” The expression of confusion briefly flickered but nonetheless he acquiesced and allowed for the thermometer to be placed in his mouth. After a few seconds a shrill beep emanated from the device and the youth removed it. He took a quick glance at the display and fought back a wince.
“How bad?”
“39ºC.”
“Shit.” Privately, the young detective agreed wholeheartedly with the hissed sentiment.
“So, this is probably going to be rather redundant but...how are you holding up?” The utterly flat look that had been provided brought forth another cringe and solidly ended that line of enquiry. “Yeah I figured as much.” The teen muttered.
“Mitsuhiko what the hell are doing you here?” Shinichi sighed, tired face drawn.
“Well for starters, you promised to call Yoshida-chan after you got back home Friday and never did.” He frowned. “At first, she was all too willing to let it slide thinking you might've just
forgot or perhaps had something else come up. However, after a few days and a number of unsuccessful attempts to try and get into contact with you she started to get...worried, and thus enlisted our help.”
Carefully as so to not disrupt the covers, he lowered himself to perch on the mattress. “We went around with some enquiries to see if anyone else had come into contact with you recently but apparently no one had. Not since you worked with us on that case with that killer and the dog lady...That was last Friday.” He met foggy blue eyes with a weighted stare. “Today is Thursday.”
Utter blankness. Then, eyes drifted shut of their own accord and the ghost of a smile graced their owner's lips. “That long, huh?”
Mitsuhiko let out an incredulous snort, “That's all you have to say for yourself? You had us all wondering if something terrible had happened to you. Again.” He shook his head, amusement colouring his tone. “Kojima-kun was even halfway ready to ditch class just so we could head over to the precinct and ask the officers there if they would be willing to go on a search and rescue. All on the off chance you had been kidnapped again or something.” And thank goodness Ayumi, ever the voice of reason, had managed at the very last minuet to talk him out of that little venture.
“Heh yeah? And...where are they?” The bedridden detective inquired curiously.
“Ah well...as you know Kojima-kun and Yoshida-chan are both involved in extracurricular activities, wrestling and karate respectively, and as such had a practice today that neither of them could really afford to miss. So I volunteered to go ahead and pursue matters concerning you so they could go about their business and hopefully put their minds at ease.” And of course not prompt them do anything overly drastic and above all dangerous. Well any more so than usual anyway. “And honestly, I'm glad I did.”
“The way you looked lying there...It made me wonder for just a moment if I was going to have to use every ounce of my investigative knowledge to find whoever had done such a thing and bring them to justice for your sake.” His tone turned wry as he flashed the other an uneasy smile. “Suppose you should be glad 'overworking oneself to the point of exhaustion' isn't a chargeable offence then or else you would have probably been taken in ages ago.”
“Smartass.” Shinichi huffed, exasperated with a trace of fondness that lingered underneath.
“Learned from the best.” He quipped with dry look.
The older man whuffed good-naturedly and let his attention stray a bit. Half-lidded eyes drifted shut as time imperceptibly trickled away and with it went what little levity the banter had brought. A hush descended upon the room as the duo were lost each to their own world. The teenager went about shifting the little set up he had fixed earlier so the items would be within reach if needed. Having finished he scooted the desk chair over a touch as well, plonked down, and settled himself in for the wait.
“Damn it...”
Mitsuhiko started. “What?”
“Wasn't finished...the files.” Shinichi stopped, having ran out of breath. He grimaced and tried again. “Back there...I wasn’t...done. Still not.” The other latched on to what he was trying to get at and immediately made his opinions on the matter known.
“No.”
The sharp vehemence packed behind that simple word seemed to draw the other up short. Through cracked eyes he regarded him for a second and echoed. “No?”
“No.” He repeated with a shake of the head. “ No. Absolutely not. Sensei, you're in no shape whatsoever to be working on anything at the moment. I mean, you've already run yourself down enough as it is and I cannot in good conscience allow to this to continue on any further.”
“Been worse.” The other mumbled mulishly.
'And okay knowing him that's probably true but still-' It was the whole principle of the matter. “That may be but at the moment you need to rest. At least until your fever goes down a bit.”
While stubborn may he be, he was not so out of it at the moment as to not have seen the logic of the other's words, however that did not necessarily mean he had to like it nor make it easy for the teen. “It needs to be finished. There's no time...” He breathed out, gaze narrowed into slits. “...to be lying around.”
Mitsuhiko's hands clenched slightly in his lap, and he felt his brow twitch slightly. 'Well if he's determined to play it that way then...fine.' He met the look with one of his own. “You know...some extra 'lying around' when it is necessary to do so would not kill you. While on the other hand, working well past your own limitations to the cost of one's health will. Sensei, please don't make this any harder than it has to be.”
And so with gazes locked upon one another they waged a silent battle of wills, neither wanting to back down and acquiesce to the other party's demands. It as a good thing, he supposed, that the fever had somewhat dimmed the normally razor-like stare for he feared that he would not have withstood the barrage as well as he did otherwise. Though capable as he was holding his own against all manner of criminal element and other such dangers, the sharp scrutiny patented by the older male had always brought about most peculiar sort of feeling which never ceased to unnerve him. It was just something about the way the brunette seemed to look beyond so that he may grasp at something intangible and drudge it up from murky depths to present it to the light. Which is why when it was Shinichi who was the first to cave that he felt no small wash of relief.
Leaning back, the teen studied him for a moment. The taut set of his jaw and the resigned air in which he had held himself spoke volumes of his thoughts on the subject. Though, having recognized the futility of furthering the argument in his current state, regardless how much he wished to do so, he held his tongue. Mitsuhiko felt at twinge of guilt slip through at the sullen display and silently cursed his bleeding-heart.
“...If...If this is really so important for you to finish this maybe...I could do something?” His hands shifted slightly, opening and closing uncertainly before they lifted to remove the dampened washcloth upon his mentor's head. Focused on the damp fabric rather than the man beside of him, he continued. “I mean, I've dealt with this type of thing enough that I'm certain I could keep up with whatever there is to do so at this point.” Water dripped down his fingers as he wrung the rag of its excess. He could positively feel the reluctance radiating from him as he gently set the cool cloth back into place.
“Or...maybe I could do some housekeeping instead while you rest? There kind of is a bit of a mess downstairs after all.” That was an understatement. “And when's the last time you had anything substantial in your system to keep you going?” Mitsuhiko caught the other's look and cut him off. “And no, however many pots of coffee does not count.” He toyed with his hands a second before they dropped uselessly to his lap. “Sensei...” His head drooped and tone soon followed suit. You can't do everything yourself so please, just let me help.”
“Mitsuhiko...you...” Shinichi's stare fell upon his shoulders as he regarded him. Finally he turned away, eyes drifted shut as said with the driest tone he could muster: “ ...are the biggest mother hen... I have ever met.”
The weight bearing down upon Mitsuhiko's shoulders broke free and he raised his head. A smile to rose through to the surface. “So I've been told.”
The clack-clack of the knife as it met with the wooden surface melded seamlessly with the gentle bubble of the pot nestled upon the stove to fill the area with a sense of life that was so rarely observed anymore by its inhabitants.
“And...that should cover it. Now to just let it simmer until the vegetables become tender then it'll be ready to serve.” Having placed the spent utensils into the sink he stepped back and made to leave the room. House scuff-clad feet plodded silently as he meandered his way back through the house, only stopping when his path had taken him around and back to one room in particular: the study.
The door stood ajar, thrown back in his prior haste he had completely forgotten about the thing. It wasn't as if one could blame him though, since his thoughts at the time had been somewhat preoccupied with matters that were a tad bit more important. From where he stood now the mound of papers were on full display and almost unbiddenly he felt himself drawn to the sight.
'Such a mess.' His thoughts drifted back to the bedridden figure a floor above his head and the name cause of said mess. 'Now it isn't like I don't understand as to why he gets so touchy about others dealing with his personal objects and the like, because I do.' Padding carefully though the sea of papers he managed to reach its centre, 'And I can accept that there are certain things which are necessary to keep to oneself for risk of unwanted parties gaining access to them. That's simply the nature of investigative work.' Kneeling, the teen set to righting the overturned desk chair. His hand lingered for a moment on the back. 'I just wish he would realize he doesn't have to shoulder all of this by himself all the time. That's all.'
“How's anyone suppose to work in this anyway?” He huffed fondly, “Honestly...”
And so the next few minutes rolled by as he went to work shaping the room into something a touch less chaotic. It was somewhat of a hassle to balance the need for orderliness as well as respecting his mentor's desire for privacy but he somehow managed, having simply opted to shuffle the items off to the side where the other could deal with them later on.
“Ah!” He stifled a curse. A thick file folder resting on a stack that he'd been trying to move had somehow slipped free of the others and tumbled to the floor and burst open upon contact. Mitsuhiko sighed and bent down to collect the loose papers now scattered around his feet. As he shifted the pieces in what was hoped to be some semblance of their former order a snippet of text had managed to snag the teen's eye. 'Huh? What's this...'Apotosis'?' Curious, he tested the foreign word on his tongue.
The word was nestled along between some rather complex kanji, English script, and what appeared to be a hodge-podge of both Greek and Latin. He frowned contemplatively, 'Hm, from what I can make of the surrounding text it appears to be in relation to something of a biochemical nature, although it doesn't seem to particularly relate to forensics or anything like that...But what would he need such a thing as this for? To help with a past case maybe?'
With every line skimmed, Mitsuhiko could not help but wonder: what was this strange disquiet that had seemed to settle over him like fog? Something about this whole thing felt off but as to what exactly he was uncertain.  He flipped a page over and paused. There was something attached to the next one. With gentle fingers he pried it away to take a look.
“Ah this is-!” A glimmer of understanding dawned in his eyes briefly before it morphed into something else. His gaze flickered from folder in his hands to the stack from where it had originated from then back again. Slowly, he set the file back on the pile, hesitated, then proceeded to slide the one underneath it out. “...”
Mitsuhiko stared at the item that rested in his grasp as if it were mere minuets away from sprouting any number of horrid things. This was going to get him in so much trouble when the elder detective found out. (Not if, because he was going to find out eventually. It was just a matter of time...and he would be absolutely livid when he did.) With in mind the teen took a fortifying breath, flipped the cover, and began to read.
Moonlight filtered softly into the darkened room, its gentle light intermingled with the sound of quiet breaths as the figure slept. With an imperceptible click the door creaked open. The other made no move to come in, instead intent to gaze upon the man with a strangely shadowed cast to his features. As if aware of the stare, the slumbering man turned and shifted slightly, yet ultimately did not wake. For a brief moment something flickered across his expression before it melded back into a curiously blank mask. Wordlessly, he stepped back and the door drew shut with a resolute click.
Those demons that lie in wait were to be dealt with yet another day and until then the stolid walls that surrounded would continue to stand sentinel to the secrets there. For he was to stand with them; to be a support for when it was to be needed. Waiting for the day until they of their own volition rose to light, or perhaps, until even the echos themselves should fade into the dark. After all, what kind of friend would he be if he couldn't keep a secret?
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