Ran fished a worried glance at Conan-kun as she finished her last mouthful of dinner, wondering if he was truly ok, and not just pretending to be for her sake. The not-boy had been unusually silent throughout their meal, his brow furrowing and eyes not-quite-focused as he'd shovelled curried rice into his mouth seemingly on automatic.

Whilst he was probably just talking to Hakuba-San via that creepy, strange and inexplicable mind link of theirs... she didn't believe it require quite that much focus and attention to maintain. Conan-kun had shown a remarkable ability to communicate with Hakuba-San and herself before now, something that proved to her that he was still Shin'ichi, deep down under the slightly altered behaviours of Conan-kun. She took a slow draw from her glass, watching as her 'charge' continued to eat in that odd, mechanical way of his.

     Maybe Conan-kun was struggling to keep his end of the 'mind-link' thing open for some reason? Not that it was that important to her at that moment. Not with the dirty dishes to wash and her drunkard of a father to bully into the shower. He desperately needed a wash, and they all knew it.

     (She didn't want to know how or why he was covered head to toe in muck of unidentified origins, but she was sure it had something to do with the case he'd come back from. She didn't care how he'd gotten so filthy. She only cared that he was in need of a wash, and would be getting one shortly whether he liked it or not. End. Of.)

     With the sort of rapid efficiency borne of long and extensive practice, the reigning karate champion had the dishes cleared away and the kitchen spotless before her father could even register what was coming. (Conan-kun perked up long enough grin at her father's strangled yelp as she snagged the man by his ear, then went back to whatever had him so creepily focused on nothing.)

     She half dragged, half marched her father up the flight of stairs, where she unceremoniously upended him into the bathroom with a fresh set of night-clothes and a clean towel, before bolting him in. She really should feel guilty about treating her own father as if he were Conan-kun's age (physical age at least.), but the fact was that she wasn't guilty at all. She'd start treating him like an actual adult once he started behaving like one.

     Once she was absolutely certain her father was in the shower, actually washing, and not just trying to fool her, she unbolted the door and headed back downstairs to check on Conan-kun, who was still at the table, apparently. His face was marred by a fiercely focused frown, the light somehow glinting off his glasses in the usual creepy fashion.

     She'd say he looked cute, if it weren't for three tiny details. One: he could and would launch one of his monstrous footballs at her for such a comment. Two: the boy before her was actually older than she was, for all he currently looked closer to six than eight. And Three: He often came across as the creepy psychic/ghost child from any number of horror films. Just like right now, with his distant stare and glasses glare.

     Oh, and also because she just couldn't bring herself to think of as Shinichi as cute, for all he looked it most of the time these days, what with him being stuck inside that tiny, adorable, childish, vulnerable body as he was.)

     The not-child didn't even twitch as she knelt down behind him to pull him into a tight, comforting, sisterly hug. We're his thoughts really so far away from his physical form? She knew he was aware of her; the lack of monochrome projectiles and teeth was evidence enough of that. (And hadn't that been a surprise? That Shin'ichi had taken to biting people if no other option presented itself.)

     It still worried her though. She hadn't seen 'Conan-kun' freeze like this before, at least, not in his current form anyway. She'd seen Shin'ichi freeze only a handful of times before, but never as his child self. And he only froze when he was calculating the sort of high risk, life-or-death gamble that only came around in the sort of case that even he stumbled upon rarely.

     Realising that only made her worry more, because there wasn't anything like that going on at the moment. Not unless she was being utterly blind. Wait. Blind?

     Ran frowned to herself as she hugged her pocket sized friend, suddenly very concerned. What if... what if Conan-kun was talking to Hakuba-San about a case? What if her not-as-young-as-he-looked charge was consulting on a case for Hakuba-San, as a way of guiding the older teen out of trouble? Was that why he was so focused on his Mind-link thing?

      Maybe... just maybe, Conan-kun's advice was important. What if by distracting him, she'd put Hakuba-San in danger?

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     Conan was fully aware of Ran as she cradled him to her, but dismissed it for the more pressing matter at hand. (He was also aware of Oochan upstairs, though one didn't need supernatural senses to hear the gods awful wailing the man considered a tune.) He knew dinner had been a tasteful curried rice -his favourite- but that didn't matter either. Not really.

     He didn't exactly have the energy or mental capacity for multitasking right then... Back when he'd been Merlin, flying frantically to Osaka as part of a bet, he'd shared what he could see with Hakuba-nii on instinct. He hadn't meant to send a mental photograph, and the significance of it hadn't sunk in until Hakuba-nii actually drew notice to it on their next mind-link, which just so happened to be on the return flight to Tokyo.

     The problem with that, of course, was that Merlin was sort of preoccupied on that particular flight due to a miscalculation on his part. It was hard to talk and navigate through a thunderstorm, especially when you were flying high enough to be the tallest thing around. How he hadn't been struck by lightning or dashed against a tree by the wind was beyond him. (In hindsight, flying rough a storm had been a moronic idea.)

     Anyway. Back to what he was currently doing. He'd agreed with Hakuba-nii to test the extent of their mind-link and what they could do with it, starting with what the other could see, as they both knew it would at least somewhat work. They'd try the other senses some other time, when they had more evidence that they'd work too. It was probably disorienting enough for Hakuba-nii as it was anyway.n

     It... it was incredibly weird, seeing what could only be the Kaitou Kid's lair. (he was getting serious Batman vibes from it, which was... amusing, considering Haibara sometimes jokingly called him Clark.)
What was even stranger was that Hakuba-nii's vision was less focused than his own, despite the half-brit's assurances that he had 20-20 vision. Was that a side effect of the mind link? Or... could it be that he had a hawks vision now?

    The effort he was exerting to keep both sides of the link open were actually fairly minimal, but he could tell the same was not true for Hakuba-nii. In fact, it seemed to be rather taxing for the blonde, though Conan had a gut feeling it shouldn't have been.

     How was it that Conan had the energy levels of a (scarily durable) toddler, yet he was able to keep a mental link with someone on the other side of the city up with ease, when the one with the actual body of an adult and the energy reserves to fit could barely hold their connection open for talk?

     /Hey, Hakuba-nii? It's getting close to my bedtime. Talk to you later ok? Ja!\ the connection shut off with an indescribable twist of will. He hoped that hadn't been too rude, but Hakuba-nii had seemed to be struggling, and needed the rest far more than he did. They both probably needed a break from all the weird as well, but with his life, Conan doubted a break was possible for him. Hakuba-nii maybe. Him? Not a chance.

     He snapped fully back to reality, only to relax into Ran's hold like the child he appeared to be, simply enjoying the comfort that came from being hugged by the motherly teen. After several long, blissful minutes, he finally let his adopted big sister know that he was fine, and had only been practicing something. She'd know what he meant, even if no-one else would.

    Ran tightened her arms around him, and suddenly something occurred to him. He'd become so accustomed to actin like a child around his (first) childhood friend that it'd become second nature. It was almost like a part of him, the proud, aloof teen part, had been lost. Like his old, true self had been lost, to be replaced by this new him. Edogowa Conan. All the nicer parts of him and some new, more childish parts long since forgotten, merged to form him as he now was.

   (Did that mean he really could go back to being his teen self? Because he didn't know how to be that stuck up bore anymore. Was that a good thing or a bad one?)

     Though... Ran still treated him as she always had, despite knowing the truth now. A little kid with too much energy and too many brains for his own good. Actually. No that wasn't quite right. Ran related him like Conan. Not an actual child. There was rather a marked difference between the two after all. Normal kids weren't allowed near corpses, nor were they allowed to wander around crime scenes, and no parent would be stupid enough to give an apparent six year old a double shot of espresso most mornings.

     She probably treated him more like a mini-adult than a child, now he really thought about it. She treated his adult self as a best friend and equal, as she always had, even if he knew now that pre-APTX4869 shinichi wasn't that great as a friend. And yet.

    Yet she treated his child self like a much younger, much smarter, brother who, despite looking no more than six and being physically closer to eight, was a mature, wise beyond his years boy. But still a child. It was the same for the most part; she gave him liberties that even he wouldn't give himself, or his friends the Shounen-tantei. Especially the shounen-tantei, now he thought about it.

      (If Shinichi had been their guardian, he would have had them under constant, vigilant supervision. Those kids had enough brains to get themselves into trouble, but, apart from Haibara for obvious reasons, didn't have enough to get back out of whatever trouble they'd found this time.

     It was the same, but different at the same time. How Ran managed it was beyond the young detective, but he was grateful. After all, the minimal differences between how she treated his and his adult self was enough that it never raised suspicion. Somehow.

     "Are you sure you're ok with all of this Shin'ichi?" The Karate champion whispered, her voice barely audible, even to Conan. The boy in her arms relaxed deeper into her hug, eyes closing blissfully in the manner of a child his apparent age. Well, any child his apparent age who was both beyond tired and in the embrace of a Trusted Adult anyway. Ran doubted most kids knew how to relax this deeply, even when utterly exhausted.

     He hummed at her, silently tapping out on her knee that no, he wasn't really ok with 'all of this', but it was happening anyway so he'd adapt. He'd adapted to being a toddler hadn't he?

     Familiar clumping footsteps came crashing down the stairs, warning of Oochan's impending arrival. Ran chuckled softly. Conan merely huffed, glad he'd decided to answer in the near-silent tap-code. It wasn't like Ran would have been able to hear him over that racket.

(Oochan was living proof that one didn't need supernatural senses to track clumsy people. Or at least one person. It was kind of scary how different the man could act depending on the situation. It was like two completely different people. Though the way he usually crashed about was enough to alert even the most oblivious of criminals of the man's presence. Usually.)

Conan waited patiently until Oochan was fully in the room and thus within easy ear-shot before he answered the question out loud, because it seemed in their best interests to have Oochan at least suspect he knew some of the reasons why Edogowa Conan was still around. (Despite him now being able to 'go home' that was.)

"Not really Ran-Neechan. But Shinichi-Niichan's right. I'm too smart for my age and it's still not safe. As long as I don't draw too much attention here, as long as I don't do things my friends can't, I should be safe, Ne?" The words were the truth, but highly misleading, just as Conan intended.

He'd made sure to make it sound as if he was looking to Ran to reassure him that it was the right thing to do. Adding in a touch of tired-scared-nervous to that was just the thing to make it really convincing too. Shame it'd taken two years to perfect the kiddie act really.

It helped that he actually was quite tired too. Both in the need-sleep sense and the magic-is-real-and-I-am-not-dealing-well sense. (Sure, Merlin would probably be invaluable to him the next time someone threw him off a balcony or airship, but still. He had what boiled down to superpowers, for heavens sakes, and that was just a little bit intimidating.)

(and the fact that 'next time' could be put in a sentence with 'thrown off of a high place' in reference to him was more than a bit saddening. It was like the criminals saw small and vulnerable him and were just compelled to dispose of him. Which, with the life he led, wouldn't actually shock him anymore.)

He glanced up at Oochan from his perch in Ran's lap, content to make a mental note of how confused-disturbed-concerned to older, less proficient detective looked. He glanced back and up at Ran, a mischievous look in his too-blue eyes that she mirrored. She knew him far, far too well.

"Ne, ne, Ran-Neechan, can we go get ice-cream tomorrow? Please?!!? Please?" There. If he was correct... yep. The childish plea was just enough to throw Oochan off of whatever he was about to say. (It helped that the want of ice cream wasn't a lie either; Haibara had mentioned the place she sometimes went to had lemon sorbet and he was probably too eager to try it.)

Predictably, Oochan's eyes went comically wide as he spluttered on forgotten words, clearly confused as to where Conan's saccharine sweetness had come from. It was also highly effective in distracting the man long enough to keep him from going back to whatever he was going to ask.

Most likely trying to comprehend how they could get from a topic so serious to the topic of ice-cream of all things in the split second it too Conan to blink. Ran shot her father a particularly venomous glare, the one reserved for when he was being an especially oblivious, insensitive berk.

Conan hid a smug grin behind his best friend/sister figure's shoulder as the woman in question smiled sweetly at her father. The older detective looked mutinous, but remained silent, for reasons conan couldn't possibly fathom.

"Of course we can Conan-kun. Did you want to invite your friends too?" By this point they'd completely lost the man, but Conan responded anyway, nodding overly enthusiastically, only to be cut of by a perfectly timed jaw cracking yawn that betrayed just how tired he really was.

"You should get to bed, ne, Conan-kun? You're going to need lots of energy for tomorrow, aren't you?" Conan pouted, more out of the need to be dramatic than actually wanting to, keeping up the petulant air of a child who didn't want to go to bed yet, but was almost too tired to stand.

Ran scowled back at him, and the young detective had to bit back a squeak of compliance. She really could be utterly terrifying when she wanted to be. Not that she meant it at this exact moment, but still, there was absolutely no arguing with her. There was never any point arguing with Ran really. You would lose.

"Come on Conan-kun. Bed. Now." Oh, dear no, not the commanding 'dog-voice'. She stood up, gripping him firmly in her arms, tightening them minutely when he gave a token protest just for appearances sakes. He went limp after only a few seconds, allowing her to carry him up the stairs to the futon he had in her father's room.

As soon as they were up in his shared room, Conan deftly twisted and kicked off of Ran's hip, doing a passable impression of a cat as he flipped over to land on silent feet right next to his futon, minus his day clothes. Thankfully he'd put on his night-clothes instead, though Ran probably still wasn't sure how he could change so fast.

Ran hadn't even flinched at the kick, which was somewhat impressive, considering Conan knew he had the sort of raw power that his friends were jealous of. (Even without the power enhancing shoes made for him by the Hakase.)

His de facto big sister shook her head and tutted in mock-despair, earning a cheeky grin from the child-detective. It was a little known fact that Kudo Shin'ichi was as avid a prankster-magician as a certain moonlit magician's civilian persona, and he exalted in getting away with causing as much trouble as he could, especially in his miraculous second childhood.

The magic tricks had started shortly after he'd first met Ran, now he thought back, something he could do but thought nothing of, like his ability to think sideways through a corkscrew. There, but never spoken of. To be used to get both in and out of trouble. Things that had been blended carefully into his Conan Persona, something that was more real than his teen self had ever been. Somehow.

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Kogoro shot his daughter a questioning look as she returned from putting the freeloading brat to bed, shrinking back as she smiled saccharinely at him in that special Back-Off-Or-Die smile she shared with her mother. They really were too much alike, Eri and Ran. Only Ran was far, far more terrifying because at least Eri couldn't break reinforced, supposedly Kaitou Kid Proof concrete with her fists.

(He still wasn't sure why or how Ran had come into such raw power, because she certainly hadn't inherited it on his side, and it was incredibly unlikely she'd gotten it from her mother. Maybe she had better methods of channeling her natural abilities or something, because he just couldn't explain it.

All he knew was that his daughter could probably shatter bones with the same ease he had judo-throwing people over his shoulders. And most likely would shatter bones, if anyone harmed that Kudo brat or her family.)

Ran moved on near-silent feet over to the kitchen, another too-sweet, terrifying smile on her face. Kogoro did the only semi-sensible thing he could think of in such a situation. He rose from his seat, backed slowly to the door and then fled up the stairs to the relative safety of his room. A room he was forced to share with a mysterious little boy that gave the detective the creeps.

It really did say something about him when he could safely say, with absolute conviction, that he, the great Mouri Kogoro, was not the one in charge here. No, the 'man' of the house was most certainly his terrifyingly proficient daughter. His little girl was the most mature person in the house. She was never caught drunk or making a mess with crayons after all.

Kogoro crept around the already sleeping boy, sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over slightly with hands together in the way he'd seen the Kudo Brat do once or twice when deep in thought. What else could he call Ran, but Mature?

The young woman who somehow managed to successfully juggle school, housekeeping and homework, on top of a functioning social life? The girl who ensured the bills were paid on time and the menial housekeeping tasks were done? The girl who kept her admittedly drunkard of a father and a lonely little boy fed and in clothes?

What could you call Ran, the girl who did the shopping and organised outings for a clearly traumatised young boy? Who got top grades at school and still somehow had time for her friends on top of it all? Organised? A gift? A treasure?

How did Ran do it all? She even managed to dole out pocket money to both Conan-kun and himself. Kogoro was well aware how low their budget was, what with the Detective Agency's spotty income and his drinking problem. The fact than ran did it all on such a meagre budget was all the more impressive.

The fact that his daughter was a more mature, organised, independent and confident person than either of her parents had ever been was just... well, Kogoro had to admit to being both immensely proud of her, and incredibly ashamed of himself. What must it look like to others?

     Kogoro shifted his weight slightly, freezing as the boy shifted on his futon. Thankfully he didn't wake. Ran would have his hide if he woke the little brat. The older detective huffed softly and pondered the mystery that was one Edogowa Conan, even as the boy in question slept on, oblivious.

     What a mystery that boy was too. Pretty much abandoned by his parents at that nutty inventor's place with nothing but the clothes on his back and a mind that put most of the Tokyo PD to shame. (It honestly surprised him sometimes that the boy's frame was so small. The sort of world-weary, seen-it-all look that haunted the boy's eyes just... didn't belong on a seven year old's face. That sort of look should only belong to veteran Division One Officers, War Veterans and grizzled old Forensics Officers. Not on the face of a boy that was a scant seven years old like Conan-kun was.)

     (It was actually eerily familiar, though Kogoro couldn't quite place why for the life of him. He knew someone similar to the self proclaimed child-detective; Conan-kun wouldn't seem so eerily, spookily familiar otherwise; but who? Who did the boy remind him of?)

     Now Kogoro was thinking about it, what did he really know about the six... (soon to be eight!!!) year old currently living under his roof anyway? (well. Ran's roof, if he was being brutally honest with himself.)

     Huh. Now that. That was a thought. Exactly how much did Kogoro know about the younger self proclaimed detective anyway? What could he honestly and truthfully say about the bespectacled boy known as Edogowa Conan?

     Huh. Not much, if he was being completely frank with himself. Conan-kun was scarily bright; an undoubted genius even. (and shy about it too, far, far more modest than that Kudo brat ran was unfathomly head over heels for. Though being more modest than Kudo Shin'ichi was not hard.) The boy was a talented skateboarder, and one of the only people Kogoro had ever met who wasn't scared of Ran's explosive outbursts... but...

     But the boy was also reckless, stubborn and cursed. Had to be, considering just how many times either he and/or Ran had been called by Megure-keibu or one of the other officers of division one because the boy (with or without his pack of friends) had stumbled upon some violent crime or other.

     Far, far too many crimes for it to be considered at all natural. Whatever the rest of the world said about the famous sleeping Kogoro, it was not he who was stalked by a shinigami. No. It was Edogowa Conan who was followed by (the rather stubbornly faithful puppy of) Death. After all, the boy had been party to more cases in the past two years than Kogoro had in his entire life, and that was saying something wasn't it?