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Twelve.
The number of murders Conan Edogawa got involved with withing the past 7 days was 12.
Shinichi was used to violence. He has seen murder and death and kidnapping and crime of all kinds. It was his usual since his first childhood. It was his normal.
Still, twelve dead in 7 days was a new record, one that even he had to admit to be too much. It was unsettling.
Years ago during his first childhood, and isn't that another fucked up wheel in his hamster cage, he had his dad with him. His father would be the one who solved the crimes. He would go to the corpse that found its way into their life and search it. All while carefully positioning his child to never sew too much.
Of Course that didn't mean that shinichi was never involved. He still found hints, helped solve the mystery. No one could ever really stop him and his curiosity.
But it didn't mean he wasn't protected. Murder was an everyday occurrence for Shinichi Kudo but his father always made sure he was protected.
Conan Edogawa didn't have that privilege. Kogoro mouri only pushed him away whenever he thought he was in the way and Ran swept him out of conversation when she thought he was bothering the adults of the situation.
And even with Shinichi being 16 and knowing that to them he was still a child it hurt.
Because at the end of the day he was still 16 and he solved 12 murders in 7 days. He solved 12 murders while being treated like nothing but an inconvenience by most. He solved these murders without anyone acknowledging he did.
This wasn't about fame or reward. It was about acknowledging that he did anything. Anything at all.
Of course Takagi took him serious and would answer to any of his strange requests. Bug even to him it was all seemingly for Kogoro in the end. Because of course Conan doesn't solve the murder case. That would be ridiculous.
The only one who treated him like he needed protection still was Satou. Honestly between most police officers she as probably the most reasonable. She acknowledged taht children shouldn't be involved with such violence and tried to keep them away.
It felt good.
As much as Shinichi hated admitting it, he was still a 16 year old teen and as such he still wanted to depend on an adult every once in a while. It reminded him of his dad.
But she was only there for one of the 12 cases and now it didn't feel like enough.
So he sat there. Conan Edogawa sat at Kogoro Mouris office like any other day listening to the old man boasting about all the cases he solved and how important and brilliant he is to a young woman whk only came to discuss whether or not his boyfriend is cheating on her or not.
And something in him just...snapped. Because through all those cases that Kogoro was currently boasting about in more detail than he should he was there. And all the images of blood and broken bones, bruises around a delicate neck, a paintbrush deep within an old man's eye socket more death, more violence, the beautiful woman from yesterday laid out carefully amongst flowers almost looking asleep. A tragic story of love and misunderstanding. Jealousy and revenge.
All of it came back to his mind whole the old man talked. And none of these images came alone. They were always accompanied with the feeling of being treated as an inconvenience. A wish for protection or acknowledment. A longing he was too embarrassed to admit but settled heavily around his heart.
And right there, on one of the most peaceful afternoons he had for weeks now it suddenly became too much. He couldn't handle it. He wanted his father's strong back protecting him. From seeing the worse and his mother's overbearing embrace encasing him in protection.
But he knew he wouldn't get that. Not here and certainly not as Conan Edogawa.
So he made excuses. Some telltale about the professor and a new invention, a video game that needed testing and a reassuring smile was enough to convince Ran and Kogoro of his safety before he left.
He went out of the office that stared so many tales of crimes and violence and away from the man he used to solve them.
Except he couldn't go to the professor. All he would find was an empty house because he was at some science meeting with Haibara. They asked if he wanted to tag along but honestly he wasn't taht interested in the topics.
For a moment he thought about going to the Kudo mansion but he wasn't close enough to Shuichi to make it anything but slightly awkward avoiding of each other while there.
The thought of being alone or avoided made him feel worse. He wanted comfort and even if he knew he wouldn't get any the idea of loneliness felt like a heavier alternative.
But he also knew that if he went out by himself the chance of finding more violence was high. Higher than he wanted.
So instead he went downstairs and into Cafe Poirot. He was careful to avoid a certain police officer and Organisation member while ordering a coffee and settling down in the most hidden corner in the back. Realistically he knew that Amoru would notice him sooner than later but he held on to a sliver of hope that the man would take the hint and leave him be.
Shinichi didn't want to deal with their carefully balanced game of secret identities and informations right now. He just wanted the reassurance that someone in the room would be capable enough to take on responsibility for him. Just this once he didn't want to be the only one seeing the truth for what it is whenever the inevitable crime of the day would occur.
So he sat there in his corner, coffee cooking down abandoned in front of him as he stared at the people around.
He stared but he didn't truly see. He counts steps and tiles, tried to find patterns in their behaviour. Anything to keep his mind occupied away from murder.
The woman's having a date with a handsome older man for example would glance at her phone every time the man took a sip of his coffee. Her fingers would drum nervously whenever he talked and she would wipe her hands on her jeans whenever they touched. It was obvious that she wasn't that interested in him anymore.
Yet he could see the man smiling whenever he glance at the girl. The poor fellow would probably get his heart broken soon.
When they left and the cafe was mostly filled with people he already analysed twice he went back to counting the tiles on the floor. He knew there were 86 of them and two of them had a slight crack hidden underneath a table. Yet he counted them again just to be sure. Once at 86 he counted backwards and once he was at 0 he glanced at the man who shared the numbers nickname.
During the hours Shinichi sat there he tried to avoid the double agent as much as he could. He didn't acknowledge them and barely looked into the waiters direction but he was out of options to occupy his mind now and images he tried to ignore resurfaced while he desperately tried to find something else.
So Shinichi looked at the only person his gaze avoided so far and the moment he did their eyes met.
Except he wasn't greeted with that calculating look he associated with the PSB officer Rei or the cold gaze of Burbon. It wasn't even the bubbly smile of Toru Amoru whenever the man would serve another sandwich.
No, Conan Edogawa stared at eyes of concern he was rarely given outside of the life threatening events that happened too often to truly count at this point.
(Shinichi knew the number of times he almost died by heart. Of course he did but he refused to acknowledge them as Conan. Just like he refused to acknowledge his child like desires for an adult)
A second passed and the concern Conan thought he recognised turned into determination as the waiter seemingly nodded to himself and turned to walk towards the kitchen. After Zero came the first tile on the floor. There were 86 of them but it couldn't hurt to make sure.
At 64 a plate dropped in front of him and he lost his place. It was a sandwich. Simply made with ham and salad but Conan noticed the way the tomatoes were carefully arranged in the middle so they wouldn't slide out from the sides and the ham seemed to be a little more than usual.
He didn't wonder where it came from. It was a simpel deduction he could make without looking up. Amuro saw him and went into the kitchen and sure enough when he looked up the waiter smiled down at him and pushinhed the plate just a little more towards the child.
"You should eat conan" the mans voice was unusually gentle.
Conan opened his mouth to reply. He should ask the questions of why or what or simply state that he didn't order or feel hungry but no word left his lips. In an attempt to hide his own embarrassment he raised an eyebrow before scowling down at the food in front of him.
"It's a ham sandwich. There's tomatoes and cheese on it too. Do you need me to try it first?" once again the waiters voice was gentle. It wasn't the type of kind one would put on for children simply because they are children. It was the kind of voice people put in for victims and patients. The type of voice that was soothing and full of concern.
The words were a bit of a contrast to it. The suggestion itself seemed ridiculous. Bourbon had countless options to get rid or, alternatively, kidnap a 6 year old. Drugging them in the cafe he worked at with the very food he served was way too suspicious.
"You'd be smarter than that", conan voiced his thoughts. But his voice came out listless and more quiet than intended. So he raised it up to a more cheerful, childish voice while falling into the smiling mask of the child that was known as Conan Edogawa.
"Isn't that right? Thank you Amuro-niisan! " he exclaimed before taking a big bite out of the sandwich.
The waiters expression turned more concerned in return. Strange.
Task done, conan expected the man to turns nd leave again. Instead a heavy weight draped itself around the child. A blanket he realized after a split second of panic.
"It's getting colder and the heater isn't working. I thought you looked a little cold." amuros voice was casual while he sat down beside the kid. Smile now back in his lips and his gaze towards the rest of the cafe.
It was a lie. A bad one. But the blanket was nice and heavy and felt just so right. Conan could almost pretend it was a hug and somehow that made him emotional and to his own horror he felt his cheeks heat up as tears tried to well in his eyes. He was grateful taht the waiter didn't look at him.
<span;>Shinichi would never admit it but this was exactly what he needed. He felt cared for and was warm and there was food and most importantly; he didn't feel alone.
Right in this moment he was safe and he wasn't afraid of any dead body dropping in.