Epilogue

The storm slowly tore itself apart on the peaks of Japan's mountains, and after three days its tattered shreds blew north towards the Bering Strait, leaving blue skies perfect for airlifting Conan to Haido Hospital. A ambulance may have been cheaper, but the doctors were firmly against having him away from a fully-supplied hospital any longer than necessary, considering his small size and how many hours he'd gone without proper treatment after the bite.

The nurse at Haido was still taping down Conan's IV when Hattori Heiji burst through the door in a wild-eyed panic.

"... Hi, Heiji-niichan..." Conan murmured tiredly, trying on a reassuring smile. It mostly didn't work, with his left arm still swollen half again as large as it should be.

"You." Heiji's mouth worked around air silently, as if he could not even think of what words to yell. "You."

Earplugs, earplugs, Conan's kingdom for earplugs. ...Gods he was exhausted, too much to really face someone shouting, and maybe some of that communicated itself through his eyes, because after a long, trembling moment, Heiji collapsed into the visitor's chair.

"I owe you such an asskicking when you grow up."

Well, at least it wasn't shouting. "Get in line," Conan muttered.

"And," Heiji added more sharply, straightening, "I cannot believe the freaking Kaitou Kid. Again. Who the hell does he pray to that he keeps saving your ass?"

Someone with a terrible sense of humor, Conan bet. "Think I heard 'im promising Inari cake."

Heiji paused, considering. "Think she likes takoyaki?"