Continued Facades

Chapter Three

I sighed, doodling in my notebook. Dayo-sensei was really just too boring for his own good. Imagine that, I thought dryly. Famous tantei Kudo Shinichi found dead in class one day, and although no evidence is clear, the cause of death seems to be boredom. The number one suspect? Dayo Akimichi.

Groaning internally, I shifted my position, sweeping a critical eye around the room. Ran was, as per usual, copying notes diligently and fiercely concentrated. Hattori looked to be asleep, and Kaito seemed to be pondering. Most likely about the next prank he would pull— after all, he had that glint of mischief in his eyes that always signaled trouble.

Mondays. So internationally hated that they should be illegal. I cracked my knuckles, shifted position again, and sighed. I tried to tune back in to Dayo's teachings, but my head hurt and I was tired and — frankly — I didn't care two shakes about what mathematical theory the man was proposing to us.

The only female that I could see that wasn't either passing notes and giggling or studiously taking notes was the one and only Miyano Shiho. She seemed just as bored as I felt, her lightly slouched posture and pursed lips just slight enough so that the sensei wouldn't notice. Occasionally, she picked up her charcoal gray pencil and printed a few words in a neat fashion.

That's funny, I thought absently. I always thought left-handed people had messier handwriting. But Miyano-san's handwriting is so much tidier than most.

Then I paused suddenly, and nearly jolted straight upright.

That can't be right. I clearly remember Miyano-san being right-handed. The first day she got here and started writing, she was using her right hand. I crinkled my brow. Was I losing it? Or was this girl ambidextrous above all the other fascinating traits she had?

Upon closer examination, I noticed that it seemed she was burned in her right hand, and badly so. Cooking? I didn't think that that was it, seeing as this new girl appeared to be flawless at everything possible.

Miyano-san noticed my stare and shot back a perfectly icy glare. 'Stop ogling, Kudo,' she mouthed; and I could almost hear the sarcastic lilt of her voice berating me. I slowly, deliberately turned my head away, plastering an indifferent look on my face.

I decided to ask her about her hands before lunch.

Because, no matter what, during lunch, she kept disappearing.

"What did you do to your hands? Are you okay? Do you want to go to the nurse and have her check it out?"

I looked up, startled. Trust Ran to notice such a thing. And of course, inquire about it and be all sweet about it. I swear, that girl is stuffed full of kittens and rainbows.

"Nothing much," Shiho replied coolly. "Just burned myself accidentally in the kitchen. And no, it's fine."

I stared at her in disbelief. So she couldn't cook?

"Ohh," Ran said sympathetically. "I remember when I started cooking, I would always make a mess! I would nick myself, drop things on my toes, and burn my skin to no end. But don't worry Shiho-san, practice makes perfect!" I blinked. Since when was Miyano-san 'Shiho-san?'

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." Shiho's eyes were as cold as usual, and her voice had a hint of sarcasm that was almost — but not quite — there.

Something still nagged me. "Are you sure it was an accident?" I asked her, raising my eyebrows. I studied her carefully, watching to see if she'd lie — and more importantly, if I could tell.

"No," she returned, voice laced thickly with contempt and sarcasm, "I held an open flame to my wrist and reveled in the burning pain I felt." Her eyes were blued and empty. "Or maybe," she widened her eyes, "I was torched. Of course it wasn't an accident, Kudo, haven't you heard that everything in the world happens for a reason?"

I simply stared at her. A few minutes passed, and I watched the wide-eyed look disappear, replaced with a familiar ironic smile.

"Loosen up, baka," she brushed by me, rolling her crystal-blue eyes.

"Um." I blinked, then sighed. "That was weird." She would never so blatantly and blandly say those things if they were true. No amount of acting can cover those kind of lies. But it's a disappointment, I smirked slightly, that she can't cook. Maybe Ran can give her a few pointers.

And although I pushed the matter to the back of my mind, something was off. I couldn't exactly tell what, but Miyano-san's innocent cooking incident bothered me. Something was strange about it.

Well, nothing I can really do about it now. Better go find Ran— now that a week is up, maybe I can ask her for some lunch.

Humming, I strolled to the cafeteria.

"Why, oh why, would you bring fish?!" Kaito shrieked, clawing and fumbling to run away. "I swear, you do this on purpose!"

"Yes, I do," Aoko shot back, the gleam in her eyes so similar to the one Kaito usually had that I did a double-take. "This," she flung the heavy-bellied fish toward the cowering magician, "is for yesterday when you peeked at my panties! AGAIN!"

Kaito let out a scream that, I'm not very sorry to say, was very un-masculine and rivaled Ran's in pitch. Rolling away, the indigo-eyed boy managed to dodge the fish. Aoko cursed and leapt over the table, grabbing the fish's tail, and started chasing after Kaito once more.

"So," I said conversationally as I sat down at the table. "Looks like it's just another day."

Hattori was laughing hysterically on the ground. "I'll nev'r," he gasped, tears in his eyes, "get used ta de fact," Kaito vaulted over a sitting boy, "dat Kaito is sucha wimp," Hattori choked out. "It's jus' plain hilarious!"

Kazuha rolled her eyes. "Heiji, geddup. Or I'll steal all yer food and den tell Kaito yer laughin' at 'im. Ya wouldn't want dat magician ta be piss'd atcha, would ya?" An almost evil look crept into her green eyes. "And mebbe I'll help 'im pack a few extra punches in," she took a few experimental punches in the air, "b'cause it's been so long sins' a' had a dummy ta practice on."

Grumbling, Hattori picked himself up. "Yer such a party pooper, ahou," he muttered.

"Who ya callin' ahou, ahou?"

Amusedly, I watched the brawl play out between the former Osakans and former Ekoda couples. Yep, I nodded quietly to myself. Just another ordinary day.

And then Hattori and Kaito both barreled into me simultaneously, their girlfriends pulverizing me along with them.

"For kami's sake," I snarled, rolling my eyes, "can't you keep your catfights to yourself?" Kaito and Hattori shared a look, then stared round-eyed at the girls that were advancing on them.

"No time," Kaito squeaked, eyeing the fish grasped in Aoko's left hand.

"Gotta run," Hattori finished, not taking his eyes off Kazuha's fists.

And then two scrambled away, their childhood friends following in hot pursuit. Somewhere along this time, Ran had slipped into the seat next to me. I laughed quietly, watching as the slimy fish caught Kaito head-on.

"Isn't it nice when lunch has entertainment?" I ask her, a faint smile playing on my face.

Ran laughed. "Yeah," she agreed. "It is."

"Remember, class," Dayo-sensei droned listelessly, "you will need all notes taken since the beginning of this marking period. I will be checking for the accuracy of your notes as well as if you have everything down." He flicked his gaze lazily around the room, making eye contact with every student. "No exceptions. This will count as a heavily weighted grade— I wouldn't want you students to think you can slack off in this class."

I held back a snort and refrained from rolling my eyes. Are you blind? Everyone practically dies of boredom in your class. Kaito once said that your class was the only place he could get top-quality sleep… Slacking off would be an understatement.

Turning to Miyano-san to share this smirking moment with her, I was rather surprised to find her gazing into space with an intense, far-off look in her eyes. Her expression was unreadable, and she twirled her pencil aimlessly, easily in her left hand. Miyano-san seemed to be thinking deeply, and once again I felt as if I was intruding. Her brilliant blue gaze… what hid behind it? Suddenly, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"Is… something bothering you?" I asked, hesitant and a little uneasy.

Unlike last time, Miyano snapped alert seeming ruffled. Her perfect mask slipped a moment. A little alarmed, she quickly replied, "N-nothing! Why would you ask that?"

As Dayo lectured on and on about his newest obsession, it suddenly hit me: why Miyano-san seemed a little worried. Ah… so that's it? "You don't have to worry," I told her reassuringly. "Don't be shy, you can just ask me what you want to. No need to feel awkward, there's nothing to be ashamed about," I comforted soothingly.

Her face settling into an indifferent smirk (that couldn't quite cover the skittishness flitting elusively in her eyes), she asked, "A-ask what?"

I rolled my eyes. I'm not stupid. "The notes," I reminded her. "You need them, don't you?" I laughed lightly, saying, "Don't get too worried over the fact Dayo-sensei said 'No exceptions.' You're a new transfer student, and you'll need help from one of us," I gestured around the place, a small smile of assurance on my face. "Sensei asked me to help you out, so I can briefly guide you past the topics we discussed the two weeks you weren't here."

Miyano-san let out a dry laugh, one laced with irony. "Of course," she rolled her eyes, completely back to normal (just look at how quickly my reassurance guided her back to her old, sarcastic self). "But I wonder what this knight in flashing chain mail must be after… you don't need to care for me." She drove the last part home with a steely glare.

"Alright, calm down," I settled back in my seat, hurt. So if I honestly try to help her out, she automatically assumes me to be after something. What kind of girl was she brought up to be? Shrugging, I said, "Fine, but if you need help with your notes, just ask me." The offer still stood.

After school, today I wasn't as lucky as usual. A mob of older sophomores and even juniors swarmed around me, crying for my blood— or rather, my autograph. Really? I thought, pushing unsucessfully through the crowd (I was tossed back every time). I'm only a freshman— I mean, I have unnaturally good looks and incredible wit and am famous, but you think they'd stop fangirling over somewhere who's still a newbie.

Finally, I gave up. "I'll make a deal with you guys," I shouted over the din. "For every autograph I sign, I'm allowed to go one step further, until I eventually can pass you through, okay?"

"Squee! He can speak! And his voice is so sexy!" One girl shrilled, her sleek blond pigtails bouncing.

Ahem. I think I'll ignore that comment.

Besides the occasional girl like her and the few that fainted (probably due to the overload of body heat the girls were packing), most of the schoolgirls let out a chorused cry of, "Deal!"

Sighing, I took out my ink pen, wondering if I should magically supply paper to sign for them. But the problem solved itself— the girls had it all planned out already (which I found extremely disconcerting).

"Sign my shirt, Kudo-sama!" One girl screamed, waving her soccer tee (with my used-to-be soccer number splayed in bold black ink).

"Sign my book!"

"Sign my magazine!"

"Sign my notebook!"

"Sign this picture of you!"

"Autograph my skin! Ahhh, I won't ever wash it off, I swear!"

I blinked at the last one. What in the—

I don't want to know.

Silently praying that I wouldn't run into the female who had shrieked at me to brand her skin, I meticulously started signing. Loop the 'S'and flow through the 'h' and 'i' and 'n' then 'i' again and finally flourish the 'chi'. Repeat.

I'd nearly gotten through the mob when Miyano-san showed up— I supposed, because she was coming to my home to copy notes and have me explain them to her. I finished the last of them and let out an imperceptible sigh of relief.

"Toying around with fangirls, are we?" She commented mockingly, casually leaning against the wall.

I rolled my eyes discreetly; try to get through a mob of fangirls with a compromise, and this is the commendation I get for my cleverness. "What, is Miyano Shiho jealous?" I smirked mischievously, finished up the last of the fangirls.

Much to my chagrin, Miyano-san looked almost bored. Suppressing a yawn, she replied, "Look who's talking." She lightly pushed off the wall and walked ahead of me, hair and school skirt swaying to her gait.

Slightly frustrated, I quickened my pace to catch up with her. "Since when was I jealous?" I inquired peevishly.

The condescending look she sent me mocked me, and in a matter of fact tone she stated, "Are you that thick? The first day, you along with a gaggle of other hormonal boys were staring pervetedly at me. When the boy asked me to sit next to him, you seemed rather uncomfortable, almost jealous, considering there was an empty seat next to you. I kindly sat next to you and fulfilled that selfish desire, but don't expect any more from me. Just because I'm coming to your home tonight doesn't mean you can try and make advances on me." The tone she said this all in was so flat and emotionless I couldn't tell whether she was kidding or not.

"Oh, the ice queen is finally thawing out of the tsun-tsun and getting into the dere-dere part? Modest enough so that you'd request for me to do something? As if I'd ever want to," I snapped back, rolling my eyes and gritting my teeth. I feel like I'm already becoming a worse person just hanging around this girl…

Completely unfazed, Miyano replied icily, "Who knows what plays out in your dirty mind? You bother me so often and intrude so closely to home, one would think you'd be using your tantei title as an excuse to find out about girls you're interested in. In case you were wondering, Kudo," she shot me a perfectly condescending look (and left off the honorific again), "you do not qualify as an eligible boyfriend. Not even close."

What. The. Heck.

I blinked and gaped, struggling to find a comeback. The result: I lapsed into silence, which was becoming an uncomfortable recurrence for me. And then, rather late, it hit me.

Oh kami. She's coming to my house.

I didn't know she was planning on actually taking me up on my offer…

"Umm… so, do you want a drink? Or something?" I fidgeted awkwardly, unlocking the door to my home and stepping into the darkness. Flicking on a light, I showed her the way to the library.

"I suppose tea would be fine," Miyano-san replied indifferently.

"Uh… like iced tea, or actual hot tea?" I scratched my head.

Rolling her eyes, Miyano-san requested, "Actual traditional tea. Although if you have nothing better, I supposed iced tea would be adequate."

"Um… alright then. You can make yourself at home here," I made a sweeping gesture at the wide expanse of books, large wooden desk, and armchairs. "I'll be back after I create my special blend of tea, as per Princess's request."

Miyano looked as if she were deciding whether to look queasy at the mention of my homemade blend or amused at the 'Princess' comment. In the end, she settled for a shrug and starting browsing through the books. A small smile rested on her face as she ran her finger along the spines, peering closely at the brightly lettered titles.

"Argh," I groaned, "where does Kaa-san keep the tea leaves? I didn't touch them after she left them here… that time a few years back when she went into her tea-phase…"

Another awkward shuffle later and I was rewarded with several pans smashing into my head and then the floor. I swore as I rubbed my aching head, taking an ice pack out of the fridge. "Maybe the kami-forsaken tea is in the spice cabinet," I muttered quietly, holding the frozen ice to my head.

"Aha! There you are!" I yanked out a couple of faded green containers, the oriental-styled paper already peeling off the metal can. Twisting open the top of one container, I took a glance in — and promptly screwed the cap back on. I don't suppose tea powder is popular nowadays? Sighing, I checked the other three containers — only two had a few intact contents. The rest, to put it generally, looked cobwebby and not exactly appetizing. I threw those away.

"Well, I did tell her I was making a home-blend…" I winced slightly, wondering if I had time to run to the store and buy some iced tea. "Eh, what the heck." I put the kettle on to boil and rummaged for some tea cups. "Tada!" I flourished two porcelain cups, delicately crafted and tucked neatly just behind the chili peppers (why there were peppers in the kitchenware cabinet, the world may never know). A few seconds later I also located a teapot.

Sifting through the crumbled tea powder, I managed to pick out a few slightly intact leaves from each can and dropped them into the teapot. The amount of leaves weren't close to being enough, though… huh. What to do… I shrugged. What the heck. Might as well go wild.

Outside my house, I uprooted a few juicy-looking emerald blades of grass, brushing off the dirt and bugs as best as I could. My tree was just starting to flower, so I picked two rosy blossoms as well. As an afterthought, I also took off a few baby buds. Back inside, I somewhat washed both ingredients (aka ran a trickle of water over them). I tossed the grass and buds inside the teapot and set the two blossoms aside for later.

"Well…" I sweatdropped, staring at the funky mixture inside the teapot. "Might as well add the water now…" As if on cue, the teakettle let out a high-pitched whistle and I quickly took it off the stove. Pouring the scalding water into the teapot, a rather… interesting scent wafted from it.

"Kudo? Should I be worried that you're taking so long?" Miyano-san's voice called out faintly.

"Be right there!" I shouted back, then quickly dumped the teakettle into the sink and put the top on the teapot. Juggling the two cups in one hand and using the other to hold the burning teapot, I made my way back to the library.

"Is it that hard to make tea?" Miyano-san asked, a slight smile on her face.

"Says the one who burned herself cooking," I retorted, putting the cups and pot on the small, round table between the armchairs. "Oh, give me a moment." I ran back to the kitchen to grab the two flowering blossoms, and promptly returned to the library.

"Tea is served," I announced grandly, gesturing for Miyano-san to sit. She did, an amused expression on her features. I set the less chipped porcelain cup in front of her and poured a stream of willowy green liquid into it. Steam curled gently from it, and I did the same with my cup. As a last finishing touch, I put a blossom on the surface of her tea and one on mine. They floated and twirled lightly on the green liquid, and it looked quite elegant (if I do say so myself).

Miyano nodded, impressed, "Not bad, Kudo."

"Arigatou for thy small words of praise, fair maiden," I responded playfully with a touch of sarcasm, sweeping into a low bow.

Nursing her cup of tea, Miyano shot back, "Doth not fear, milord, more praise I shalt shower on thee if thy drink tastes as divine as it looks."

I laughed, and Miyano's eyes twinkled a bright blue. "Well, drink up," I invited, "for we have studying to do."

Blowing softly on the tea, Miyano took a dainty sip. Her eyebrows shot up, and a bemused expression crossed her face. She swallowed with some difficulty, then gently set the cup back down on the table.

"How is it?" I asked her, picking up my own cup of tea as well.

"Very… perplexing, milord. May I ask what brand thou didst use for this eccentric brew?"

"A homemade blend, as promised, fair maiden," I responded, fighting off a smile breaking on my face. I took a sip of the tea as well, and promptly spat it back in the cup, setting it on the table with a thud.

Miyano let out a pealing laugh (at the expression on my face, no doubt) and managed to say, "I see, milord, you have the same commentary as I do on thy eccentric homemade blend. Perhaps next time we shall drink water instead?"

"Yes," I agreed, trying to comb the taste out of my mouth (think cobweb tea, dirt, and who-knows-what-else), "next time, fair maiden, we shall try for something a tad less… cloying. I shall fetch some refreshments bought at the market, if it wilt please thee."

Miyano hid another smile behind her hand. "Safe journeys, milord. Beware the marketsellers advertising 'homemade' refreshments, if thou pleases."

Laughing out loud, I went to the kitchen and pulled out a few bags of pretzels and other junk as well as two bottles of water. Returning to the library, I tossed her the water, which she caught neatly, and beckoned towards the doorway. "Come, maiden," I kept up the game, "as we travel on a dangerous quest in search of where we can study."

With a bottle of water in her hand, she stood to follow. "I shalt only have heart to brave this journey if thou swears upon his honor to protect me in the face of danger."

"Then so be it, milady," I responded with another laugh, "that I will protect thee to the death if need be."

With both of us laughing, snacks in hand, we made our way to my room.

I almost forgot, for a moment, how horrifying I'd expected this study session to be.

"Sit on the bed, make yourself at home," I declared as we opened the door to my room (thank goodness I'd tidied it up yesterday).

A little reluctantly, she sat on my bed. Leaning back, she closed her eyes for a few moments as I set the snacks on my desk and brought out all the notes she'd be needing.

Suddenly, Miyano said, "I know multiple forms of martial arts, and I'm quite skilled in all of them." When I turned to look at her quizzically, her eyes had opened and were staring, piercing blue, at me.

"Okay?" I ventured, confused.

"Just thought I'd let you know," Miyano-san shrugged, then closed her eyes and leaned back again.

And then, in a flash, I understood. "Wha— why would you— I— what in the—" My face started turning red.

One eye open, like a cat, Miyano-san asked lazily, "Hm?"

"So you mean if I attempt anything on you, you'll be able to protect yourself against me. S'that right?" I replied frustratedly with a hiss. "Just because I invited you to sit on my bed and make yourself at home doesn't mean that—!"

"I was just giving you fair warning," Miyano cut in noncommittally, then changed the subject. "Are we going to study or not?"

I sighed. "Sit in a chair," I told her, gesturing to the other wooden chair in front of my desk. "Get your notebook and we'll get started."

Women.

So much for a good evening.

"And that's just about it," I finished, yawning once. "Oh yeah!" I sat upright. "Does it hurt?" I questioned Miyano-san, looking pointedly at her bandaged arm.

"Hm?" she asked absently, packing away her things.

"You know, your cooking incident," I teased, a tad playfully. "I didn't know you were ambidextrous. That's pretty amazing, Miyano-san."

A small smile blossomed on her face. "It's a skill a picked up a while ago," she acknowledged. A mischievous grin crossed her face for a mere second. "And what would you think if I were able to show you that I can write simultaneously?"

I blinked, jaw gaping a little. "That… that's a rare ability. Can you seriously do that?"

"It makes finishing homework a lot easier when both hands write," Miyano commented nonchalantly, shrugging her slim shoulders.

"Wow. That's incredible." Miyano smiled slightly, and I looked over at the digital clock on my desk. "Oh, look, it's almost five forty five. Do you plan on staying for dinner?" I asked Miyano.

"If you have enough for me, then yes, that would be nice," Miyano flexed and stretched, setting her pencil down.

"Can do," I followed suit and stood up putting away my notes. "That didn't take long at all." I threw out all the foil snack wrappers and took the two empty waterbottles, planning on tossing them into the recycling bin as soon as we got downstairs.

As we set down the stairs, a small silence hung thinly around us. The study session hadn't been all that bad— Miyano-san caught on quickly, and despite her usually snarky attitude, I found her to be not a bad person. Just… prickly. I had a warm feeling that if I gained enough of her trust, we could actually become quite good friends.

"So you're a Sherlockian, Kudo?" Miyano-san broke the silence.

"Heisei Holmes," I grinned at her, "the most dedicated fan. At your service."

Miyano let out a ladylike snort. "You wouldn't be the first to claim that title."

I felt a spark of mischief light in my eyes. "I'd like to see if anyone of those can live up to me in a battle of deduction, or match my knowledge on Doyle's series."

"Sherlock Holmes's only possible love interest."

My jaw dropped. "Oh come on, you can't expect me to believe that there is a single Sherlockian on the face of this planet that doesn't know it's Irene Adler! It would be a disgrace if you didn't know that!"

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Miyano's mouth. "Just making sure. When was A Study in Scarlet first published?"

"1887, in a Christmas book called Beeton's Christmas Annual," I instantly responded.

"Holmes's most famous line?"

I laugh, "Too easy. One is 'Elementary, my dear Watson,' although it was never actually mentioned the novels. The other line is my personal motto: 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.' Keep going," I urged Miyano.

A small laugh from her. "What was Holmes addicted to?"

"I'm assuming you mean drugs," I replied, "which in case would be cocaine and the occasional morphine. He was strongly against opium, though. It was socially accepted at the time for him to use drugs." We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I tossed out the water bottles. "However, another sort of addiction you could say he has is to the violin. He plays it whenever he thinks, and is quite talented at it. I do believe he owns a Stradivarius."

"I suppose you have a violin, too?" Miyano smirked at me.

"Of course," I grinned, "and I'm pretty talented myself, if you'll take my word on it."

"No doubt you are," Miyano said dryly. "In 1964, Sherlock Holmes books were the bestsellers second to only what novel?"

"The Bible. Anything else? I could go on for hours!"

To her credit, Miyano-san only looked mildly alarmed at this statement. "What combination is 'baritsu,' which Holmes happened to use?"

"Baritsu is a corruption off of bartitsu, which is a combination of of jujitsu and British-style boxing and wrestling. The strange thing is, bartitsu was invented eight years after Holmes used it to defeat Professor Moriarty."

"Why did Doyle kill off Holmes in The Final Problem six years after he was created?"

"He wanted to write other books, so in 1893 he killed Holmes off. Public outcry, though, made Doyle bring the tantei back to life." I grinned. "C'mon, this is too easy. Give me something harder!"

"Your wish is my command, and so forth," Miyano shot back, eyes sparkling.

"Shoot for it," I smirk. I headed back towards the library, Miyano trailing behind me. "I bet you I can answer it."

"Oh, cocky are we?" Miyano teased, then asked, "Would Doyle be proud today that he is famous for his series Sherlock Holmes?"

"Absolutely not, if we only remembered him because of that one fact." I said instantaneously.

"Oh?" Miyano cocked her head at me, silky strands falling slightly sideways. "And why so?" she challenged.

"Doyle once said," I settled comfortably into one of the plush armchairs, "that 'If in one hundred years I am known only as the man who invented Sherlock Holmes, then I will have considered my life a failure.' I would say that that quote by itself is proof that he would hate if we only know him because of his most popular series."

Miyano nodded once, slowly, a real grin spreading on her face. "Not bad, Kudo Shinichi, tantei-kun. The first Sherlockian I've met."

Surprisingly, I felt a warm surge of pride and pleasure at her praise. "I'm sure I could tell you far more— but it is about time for dinner.

Miyano laughed once more (I found that I liked her laugh a lot— perhaps because it took so much effort to get on out of her), and said, "Most so-called Sherlockians say that although Doyle had wanted to kill off Holmes, the demand was so popular and that his work is so favored today that he would undoubtedly be proud, even if we only knew that about him."

I snorted, "Ridiculous. Well, I'll try to prepare dinner, you can just stay here, alright? I may not be too great at cooking, but at least I've gotten past the phase where I burn myself on accident." I flashed her a teasing look.

A strange look passed over Miyano's eyes. "Yeah," she agreed, then shook herself and smirked, "I don't believe you'll mind if I read a few novels while I wait?"

"Be my guest," I said, then bustled off to the kitchen.

I'm not quite sure just how much later, but as I was halfway through my cooking I heard the phone ring. Knowing that Miyano-san was in the library anyways, I chose to ignore it and focus on keeping the veggies from crisping into black charcoal.

The ringing subsided soon enough, and I assumed that Miyano-san answered the phone.

When the phone rang (rather loudly, Shiho thought), the girl didn't even flinch. Cocking her head slightly towards the noise, she waited to see if Kudo-kun would come rushing in to answer it. After two rings, she decided that he wasn't coming and made her way to pick up the telephone.

Picking up the receiver, she spoke, "Moshi-moshi, Kudo residence. How may I help you?" There was a silence on the other end. Absently, Shiho noticed it was already six o' clock.

"…ah," the voice that responded was female, tinged with undisguised surprise, "this is Shinichi's house I'm calling, right?"

"Yes, I would've thought that to be clear after I said 'Kudo residence.' Is it surprising that this is Kudo-kun's home?"

"Er, no. It's just that…" The girl seemed a little confused. "Shinichi lives alone, that's all."

Shiho recognized the voice now. A light smirk to her voice, she inquired, "This happens to be Mouri Ran-san, correct? You're speaking to Miyano Shiho; I transferred to your class recently."

"Shiho-san?" Ran's voice seemed even more surprised. "Oh, uh…where is Shinichi?"

"Kudo-kun is in the kitchen preparing dinner. Should I call him here?"

"Oh no, don't bother him if he's in the kitchen," Ran quickly said, then muttered so quietly Shiho barely caught it, "or you might get caught up in the nuclear reactions he's cooking up."

Shiho paused for a moment. "So…"

"A-ah, just tell Shinichi I called, okay?" Ran sounded a little embarrassed. "Ja ne!"

There was a click as Ran hung up.

Weird.

Back at the Mouri's residence, Ran fretted quietly to herself. Is Shinichi dating Shiho-san? Oh no, what would I do then…? It couldn't be, right? Shiho-san's only been here for a few days, Shinichi doesn't even know her that well… but she's so stunning, maybe Shinichi fell in love at first sight.

Ran stopped in front of the mirror, biting her lip. She certainly wasn't as beautiful as Miyano Shiho. All she saw in her reflection was, well, herself. Bland, uninteresting, Mouri Ran. Same almond-shaped violet eyes, same chocolaty-brown hair that fell down her back, a normal jawline and okay nose. She wasn't that special, maybe a little bit pretty, but nowhere as gorgeous as the new girl.

It's okay, Ran reassured herself. Shinichi wouldn't fall for someone that quickly. Besides, I've known him so much longer… She tried to convince herself of this, but for the rest of the day whenever she passed in front of a reflective surface she'd imagine how she'd look if she were just a little bit prettier, her face shaped a little more delicately, her eyes a bit more remarkable…

"So," I said, coming back into the room just as Miyano hung up, "who was it?"

Miyano-san placed the receiver back in its cradle. "Mouri-san. I don't think it was anything important, she just wanted you to know that she called." A rather amused, slightly speculative look was splashed across her face.

"Oh yeah, Ran," I chuckled softly. "She has a habit of checking in on me at around six-ish, just to make sure I'm eating and doing stuff normal people do. I guess she started getting a little more protective of me as of late," I mused. Blushing a little, I thought, Not that I mind that much. It's nice knowing someone cares.

"Ah, I see." Miyano had a faint lingering smirk on her face, and she cocked her head slightly and queried, "So have you finished dinner, o' wondrous cook?"

I sweatdropped. "Haha," I laughed nervously, "I, uh, think we may be safer getting bentos from the store just down the street. Kaa-san's right; my cooking could be considered lethal."

Miyano snorted. "After the whole tea fiasco, I don't really doubt that. We should hurry, though, if you want to buy from that store. Today it's closing at six thirty."

I smacked my head. "That's right, it's the manager's birthday so they're closing early! Ah, we really gotta hustle!" I grabbed Miyano-san's wrist and nearly dragged her down the street. Maybe it was just me, but I could've sworn she was smiling despite her eye-rolling.

At precisely eight o'clock, a gleaming black limousine pulled up in front of my home. Oh snap. That is one fine ride, I thought, blinking at the rare vehicle reflecting sun at my front gates. Well, I suppose for a rich girl, something so luxurious isn't too hard to snag, eh?

"Oh. My ride is here," Miyano cut into my thoughts. "I suppose this is farewell until school next morning. Ja ne, Kudo-kun. I enjoyed our study session."

I flashed a little grin at her. "Until tomorrow, my fair maiden. Until tomorrow."

A faint smile whispered across her face as her chauffeur got out of the dark vehicle to escort her in. She didn't look back or wave, but as she slipped sideways into the car, I saw that she was still smiling as the door closed.

As the black limousine smoothly rolled away, I leaned against the door of my home. I wonder if life is any easier, I mused to myself. I wonder if the world seems brighter when everything can be served to you on a silver platter.

I yawned as I woke up, stretched once, then rolled over and try to fall back asleep.

"Shinichi!"

I groaned and tried to muffle my ears with my pillow. Sunlight shafted into my room in golden slices, the curtains not completely closed. "It's not that late…" I complained, squeezing my eyes shut tighter.

"Shinichi! Get up, we're going to be late!"

"Is'not that late!" I yelled back towards Ran's voice. I cracked an eye open, looking at the glowing digits on my clock. My eyes widened. "Ah snap! We're gonna be late!" I yelped, frantically throwing back the blankets and dressing myself.

"Baka, that's what I was saying!" Ran shouted back at me.

In three minutes, I was downstairs, fully dressed and waiting for my toast to pop up. My bag was propped up near the door, and as soon as the charcoaled bread sprang into the air I grabbed it and bolted, shoving my feet into my shoes and slinging my bag over one shoulder.

I burst through the doors of my house, slamming the gates open and shut. "I'm out, I'm out!"

"C'mon, Shinichi, we're going to be even later if you don't hurry up!" Ran cried.

For a split second, I glanced down at my toast. Burnt. "I'm not even going to bother trying to eat this," I muttered, and tossed it on the sidewalk for the birds to try and nibble at.

"Shinichi!" Ran tugged at my arm, and then we bolted down the streets, bags flying behind us.

"Mouri Ran, late." Dayo's glasses glinted under the light. "Kudo Shinichi, late."

"Ah, shoot," I sighed. "Sorry Ran. Next time you don't have to wait for me."

Ran shrugged, although she looked troubled at the prospect of the idea of a 'late' on her card. "It's okay Shinichi, if I hadn't woken you you'd probably still be sleeping, right?"

I laughed sheepishly. "Yeah," I agreed, "probably. Thanks for that."

We each made our way to our seat. Class, sadly, started once more and I found myself nearly dropping off to sleep again. You'd think after fifty years of teaching he'd be able to make class interesting or something…

"Geez," I muttered.

The rest of the day passed relatively unremarkably. When it came for time to go home, Ran cornered me. She looked troubled, although I wasn't sure why. Was it because she wasn't feeling well? No. From the look in her eyes, it seemed more like a personal worry.

"Is something wrong?" I asked immediately, concerned. "Is everything alright at home? Your mother's alright? Kogoro hasn't died of alcoholism?"

The fact that Ran even overlooked my jab on her father was a big clue-in that she was really out of it, or sick with worry. "No," she bit her lip, "but I, uh, have something to ask you, Shinichi."

I cocked my head, rubbing an eye. "Yeah? Ask away."

Ran flushed a little, took a deep breath, then asked, "Why was Shiho-san at your house yesterday…night?" She looked worried and a little betrayed, though I had no idea why.

I wrinkled my brow. "Oh, that. It was nothing, Ran, just—"

"Oh?" Shiho cut in smoothly, a naughty grin on her normally impassive face. "He didn't tell you what we were doing? I thought you were aware of it."

Ran squirmed, turning redder. "A-aware… of what?" Her voice scaled up a little.

Miyano-san's grin grew wider. "My my, and I would've thought your boyfriend would tell you something like this. You don't usually hide things from each other, do you? I must tell you, Kudo-kun is very talented at pleasing a lady." She smirked. "I had a wonderful time with him."

My jaw dropped. What. The heck. Are you SAYING? "W-what…!" I spluttered. One look at Ran's face and I stammered, "It's not like that!"

"Not like what, Kudo?" Miyano-san sent a coy look in my direction. "There's nothing to hide, right?"

"S-shinichi… what were you doing?!"

"Mm, it was my first time with him," Miyano-san sighed. "He was very helpful, very gentle. Conscious and we kept a nice pace… he didn't go uncomfortably fast but I learned so much. It was truly pleasurable. We did go pretty late though… my chauffeur thought it was strange I left his house so late."

Both mine and Ran's face were burning by now. Ran let out a little half-shriek. "H-he… did… what?!"

Miyano-san seemed to flick her attention to Ran. "Hnh? Is there something wrong, Mouri-san? I would've thought he would've done it thousands of times with you already. Is it so bad that I had him for one night?"

"I-I've n-never done something like… l-like that… with him!" Ran half-shouted, blushing darker. She turned onto me, looking hurt and betrayed. "How c-could you, baka!" Without warning, she punched me straight across the face, knocking me yards away.

"W-what was that for!?" I shouted at her, angry. "You haven't even given me a chance to explain!"

"Explain what, baka?!" she screamed back, looking tearful. "I don't think there's anything to explain!"

"Women!" I snapped. "Overcomplicating everything and jumping to conclusions."

"I think Shiho-san's been very clear on what you two were doing!"

A smirk tugged at Miyano-san's pink lips. "Oh? So he hasn't done it with you, Mouri-san? Well, I do hope you get the pleasure one day. It was truly something being able to make notes with your boyfriend. Until next time!" With a cheerful wave and a evil little gleam in her ocean eyes, she breezed out of the classroom.

Ran flushed so red I thought she might dissipate from the embarrassed heat. "O-oh," she murmured softly, voice trembling. Her anger had vanished just as quickly as Miyano had.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "Have a little trust in me, Ran."

Ran suddenly ducked her head and ran out. "G-gomen," she called behind her, not meeting my eyes. "I, uh, have to go—"

"Oi!" I caught up to her, snatching her wrist. "It's okay, Ran. Just ignore Miyano-san, alright? I'm just as embarrassed as you are."

"B-but," Ran averted her eyes, "you weren't the one accusing someone wrongly."

I let a little half-smirk slip out, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, that girl knows just what makes everyone ticks. I would've been more surprised if you hadn't fallen for her little scheme."

"Okay," Ran whispered softly, tentatively making eye contact for a second before a scarlet flushed over her face.

"C'mon, let me walk you home," I offered, hoisting my bag higher. "Maybe we could hang out after school? The way we used to?"

A smile flitted across Ran's face. "H-hai. I'd like that." Just like I'd hoped, she brightened somewhat. "What do you want to do, Shinichi?"

I shrugged, grinning at her. "Your choice."

So maybe Miyano-san had wrongly deceived Ran.

And yes, it was extremely boring.

But perhaps… perhaps she wasn't only doing it to tease us?

It had been ages since Ran and I had simply spent time together, like old time.

Ages.