Disclaimer: I do NOT own Detective Conan/Case Closed! I only own my OCs and this fic!

WARNING: Language. Yep, I couldn't help it.

RESPONSE TO TheDarkKunoichi: Thank you for being my first reviewer! It really means a lot to me. Those italic paragraphs would be explained later in the story, so I'm sorry that it's a bit confusing. Man, it's been 4 months since I updated and the guilt is killing me ;_;

RESPONSE TO starthedetective: I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE:( And yeah, I've been craving for Detective Conan reincarnation fics because honestly, I'm running out. Thank you for the compliments! It means so so much to me.

What's your opinion in this story? Tell me in a review! I would love to see all your thoughts and opinions whether of my writing, the plot itself, or anything really. And if there are any mistakes somewhere in there, feel free to mention it!

✖Chapter 2✖

5 years later. . .

I mused at the cold yet contented atmosphere of mid-October. The cascading fiery leaves veiled the ground around me, with the wind traveling in gushes, seemingly to have no intention of momentary intervals as my skin reacted to the pleasuring contact, creating goosebumps. I looked amidst the orangey languid clouds, the nostalgic sensation protruded from the back of my mind, making little faint tingles smear my once again beating heart. The blankness I had was quite convenient—convenient enough to let me marvel the wonders of autumn in awe without any mental interruptions. It had been approximately 5 years since my apparent reincarnation. 5 years since my entrance through this dimension.

I had recovered from the shock rather quickly despite me visiting death's porch was not an everyday happening. Of course the abrupt panic attack and hyperventilating raised my current brother; Rei-nii's concern, I was still somewhat able to reassure him and mostly myself that my condition was not worth worrying, for I was fine. Yeah, just fineeee.

Oh fuck me.

Though as time went on, the ecstasy of being given the miracle of a restart never left me as the attainment continued to praise itself whenever it had the chance to do so; which was always. It made me had an unwavering respect that I'd never knew I'll have. Every breath that I drew, every step that I took, every morning that I woke up to, was precious enough to let me realize the severity of what we call: a life.

And to think I used to be suicidal.

But that was a different matter entirely.

Life as Furuya Naomi was quite acceptable—scratch that, it was blissful. You see, the average life of an average infant—being loved, cared, and cherrished for—was not quite what I lived by as Adelynn Herman. Happiness wasn't always on the other side of every corner, let alone abundance. But that was to be expected. I was far too engaged on my own individual survival and dealing those crawled up fucktards from hell. Thus actually enjoying the cherrys of life was never really considered as an essential in the first place (except for the fact of Detective Conan but you know what I mean).

And have I mentioned that I got shrunk as well?

It was quite the experience.

I had to admit, being reduced physically into a 3 year old child often grated my nerves but it was tolerable, I suppose. Thanks to dear Haki over there, I now comprehend and experience first-handedly the dreaded pain of underestimation, belittlement, and the struggles of maintaining an innocent naive charade Conan had to suffer. There certainly were times where I had to put in every energy I had to refrain myself from rolling my eyes and/or cursing profanities whenever they overdid the kiddy treatment. Funny how my own effort of deceit was able to exhaust me so terribly. It took me a fair amount of time for me to finally condone the infuriating act. And the fact that my brother was one of the smartest and not to say—sharpest characters in the series, didn't ease the trouble either. You wouldn't believe how many times he'd–

"Nao-chan!"

Speak of the devilish angel.

The second of hearing his voice churned my heart with undeniable excitement. I stood up and bounded towards him. My now brown hair bounced at every step I took, equally as jumpy as I was. I know I said that I had to keep an innocent charade, but I couldn't help it. His mere presence was enough to make me feel all giddy and child-like. Not very mature, considering my real age of living in both worlds but come on.

"Rei-nii!" I cheered, glomping the man with a bear hug. He crouched down to meet my level and welcomed his warmth to my own. As I took in his scent I was captivated on how comforting his held was. The lulling feeling of security being mixed with endearment submerged my senses for all I could think was a way to make up for our lost times. Yet I knew, him being here was more than enough to appease me from the necessity. I let go of him gently, and met his eyes, my lips still curled into a smile as I saw the evident relief in his eyes. He was home.

"Okairi." I extended my hand excitedly, anticipating the gesture I'd been longing for.

"Tadaima." He chuckled and shook it firmly, rubbing my knuckles with his thumb while doing so. I had always loved these minor things we did. Nothing grand but able to carve every second of it deeply within me. It always fascinated me on how he managed to show me just how much his affection was in the simplest ways. They'd never show this in the series. Who would've thought that the supposedly cold hearted brilliant infiltrator of the organization with the cheerful smile as only a front could be a loving over protective caring brother?

Could be.

I had never forgotten the fact that I was a mere extension. A last minute addition that was fortunate enough to be allowed into the world. I knew very well that if I either disappeared, or hadn't came here the first place, the series wouldn't give a damn. The constant reminder was too much of an ordeal for me to handle alone. Solitude was so accustomed to me, that whenever the wall breaks, the shattered pieces will either stab the remnants of the broken, or continue to stay damaged until solace was brought upon me.

But that was why I loved him.

I was compelled to dawn that my existence in the world had no use of whatsoever and yet, he always made me feel as if his world was me. He managed to evaporate those volatile reminiscence of lonesome as soon as his eyes met mine. He was my guardian, my aid. My first and forever will be family. To me, that was enough. To me, we were enough.

I was sure I had a brother complex on him at some point.

Well he had been my favorite character after all.

I blinked away the unshed tears that glazed my eyes from recollecting. What was wrong with me? Pursing my lips, I gave him a shaky smile in order to keep myself from faltering. I wouldn't want to give him the image of a weak 8 year old cry baby now would I? Though I was sure that he saw through me as he smiled apologetically at me. I myself didn't know what to feel right about now. I knew I was being underestimated as a clingy child (which I kinda was), but the big big foolish immature side of me didn't really mind the treatment. Sigh, I was disgusted by myself for even considering about accepta–

"Did you miss me?" He asked, smoothing the locks of my hair gently. Okay, scratch everything I said, his touch was too lulling for it to end.

"You think?" I joked and grabbed his unoccupied hand, squeezing it softly. It was as if I was determine to never let him go again. Ha, as if that was possible.

"Gomene, Nao-chan. My boss had some extra work for me to deal with. But I'm here now." He feinged a chuckle. I could tell. The strain was accentuated by the amount of times I had been fooled by his act. Yes, there were plenty of times where I was fooled by his facade. Heck, I was only able to distinguish whether he was lying or not about 2 months ago. It was an obvious fact, he was a great actor. Perfect for an infiltrator. The differential from his genuine tone was so slim to the extent of him being able fool the bests effortlessly. His emotions weren't radiant, resulting others to judge his supposed nature through his deceiving words and actions. His art of deceit capabilities were incredible. I couldn't help but wonder how he'd acquired such a talent. He had never mentioned anything specific about his work regardless, and I'd never pressured him either.

Okay, that was a total lie—how did you think I achieved my goal of telling whether he was lying or not?

Hint: Black Organization Confession Attempts.

Yeah, that was more of an answer than a hint but you know what I mean. I knew my efforts would be in vain for he was competent enough to fool my oh so oblivious self, but it was intriguing to see the imperceptible flinches whenever I pried into the private matter. Seeing his slight agitation made me quite glad and relieved. He wasn't able to lie flawlessly upon facing me, meaning that he still felt the tinge of guilt of lying to his one and only beloved little sister. Though I had to admit, it was a nice alternative of practicing. Sensing uneasiness, observing suspicious body language, processing every information to the very limits, all was concealed in artificial childish stupidity and naiveness. I had always been like this, taking advantage of all situations in order to keep moving onward. Same goes for those years of getting beat up. Every technique they used were laced in my memories, every attempt of me escaping was turned into a sparring session, and every loss was merely for increasing my pain tolerance. I was able to neglect every sense of pride within me in order to feign distress and inferiority, resulting me to capture them off-guarded despite any situation. We were different—on both level and game. I was improving on every defeat. And they were stuck. Stuck in their own rocketing cockiness and exaggerated confidence. How sad.

I was sneaky then, and I was also now. Little did they know that in this innocent vulnerable little girl lies a sneaky brilliant bastard within. Every living being has an imminent downfall, and theirs was a soon as my liberty be guaranteed. And this time, it wasn't merely for the satisfaction of revenge—it was for the sake of reassurance. The plan was set. All that was left was preparation.

I glanced up, noticing the sparkle Rei-nii emanated as he smiled widely, and discreetly smirked. Hmph, this was going to be fun~

❦εїз❦

But first! We wait.

"Naomi-chan! Are you even listening?!"

"H-hai! I am."

"Mou~ Don't test me, Naomi-chan~!"

"Sorry, Kioku-sensei."

"Aw~ You're so cute! Mi-chan" I twitched, feeling a protuberant vein pulsing in a concealed, barely conceivable rampage.

During these times, I always wondered how my span of respect to the prominent life everyone took possession would last. How the sudden need of bashing his head in with "Nippon's History Book 1" became an urgency I had yet to oblige. I couldn't help but be grateful at the miles of distance separating us. The internet works wonders. But also because of it, I too became a victim of that obnoxious voice of his. Kioku-sensei, my teacher, the sole subject of my contemplation on whether to break every rule I set and relieve me from the obligatory of "dismissing" him. We hadn't even met him face to face; that kind of a test was too much for the little moral I had for him to handle. His teachings were all distributed throughout the web, with him providing us students education through his personal website and an app named Skypu. Everyday I would do the daily exercise he'd give to me with a 5 hour time-limit, and some days we would have a video call for 4 hours for him to explain everything that I was supposed to learn. And this was one of them. I couldn't say his contribution was beneficial—I mean apart from everything without the word Nippon: was child's play, quite literally. The only subject I was struggling on was Japanese Language, but I managed.

A good memory was indeed convenient,

but then again, also was a misfortune.

The particular incident replayed itself before my very eyes. The overwhelming pressure whom robbed her of a single soul engulfed me as I was left breathless. A comforting sensation that was only felt upon bathing in one's own warm blood, lingered around me with me shivering at the accuracy. The sickening hazy cold memory of watching her fingers twitch with the draining hope she had yet to let go—to unrealistically endure the damage she had taken and sustain the consciousness that ensured her own survival. She was in a conflict of life and death, though had she been given a chance, the results wouldn't consider itself as a miracle. Soon enough, the thought of seeing in the girl's point of view deserted me. Only then I realized.

The girl was me. I had died.

I knew it was bad to reminisce—but all was late as the incident had already maimed me.

"You do realize that was like 10 years ago, right?"

What had been a surprise of an appearance didn't really nerve me the very least up to this moment. Instead, I took it in annoyance. Who wouldn't be upon facing him? Haki, my supposedly murderer. Everything concerning him was so frustrating, I nearly held every ordeal against him. My perception of him alone was an enigma, let alone who he was to wield such an astonishing ability of sending me here. The rage I had to serve for him was not quite enough to actually hate him, though. It held much similarity to annoyance rather than pure hatred. The prevention was as perplexing as he was, much to my disliking. I tried to, I really did, daring myself to visualize his menacing grin from years back, but the thought always ceased before the rage even entered my sense of thinking. Maybe when death was sure to take plunder of my existence will I ever gather myself to loath him. To truly feel the burning sensation smearing my last of benevolence. But until then, not only do I have to brainstorm my way into his background, the task of enduring his bratty attitude on every walking moment was also an unfortunate I was lumped in. Unfortunately.

Days after the abrupt comprehension of this incredulous complex phenomenon (if I do say so myself) known as a Dimensional Swap, he had been with me since then. Though pestering would be a better word to define it. All probable chances of peace and tranquility ceased as soon as his sarcastic remarks took the best of him.

And of course, me as well.

Long ago I concluded. His head didn't need to get bashed in—it needed to get blown up.

"5 years." I breathed my correction in a hushed tone, barely taking note of the explanatory the oblivious man provided me.

"And your problem is...?" He drawled.

"You." I countered.

"Exactly." He grinned as he knew my desperation of holding a glare. What does that even mean? The intimidating gesture would've sent me pummelling him if it weren't for the single audience before me. Though had someone caught me staring into blank space, I would surely be questioned for none other than to descend their worries. For some reason I had some sort of idea about, his physical appearance could not be seen by any other humans apart from me. Beings as of animals seemed to perceive his presence but it was obscure whether they were merely noticing the difference of air pressure or if they could actually see him. I hadn't observed him very often but his way of tolerating the misfortune was never prominent enough for me to realize. He didn't seem to be lamenting over the lack of acknowledgment but I knew very well; one could conceal their grief and sorrow if they had the ability to do so.

"Was I really that scary? I mean, I merely took the life you presumably loathed and even sent you into your practical wonderland. Isn't a 'thank you' necessary considering all I'd done?"

"Yeah, you simply murdered me in the least expected time, then showed me what the pavement road looked like with my blood and body decorating it oh so beautifully. My gratitude of you is inatonable."

"Inatonable? Is that even a word?"

"Shut it. My God you're a goddamn piece of—"

"Naomi?" I twitched at the belated realization, late enough for me to regret not making my words more into a whisper than a toned down hiss. I was itching a face wall, I somewhat felt like a busted child from his stern call and the guilty feeling had neared me dangerously to the edge. This lifestyle was starting to get to me. And Haki's chant of "piece of what?" in the background, was very much not helping.

"Y-yes?"

"Who were you talking to?" Crap.

"Eh? What do you mean, Kioku-sensei? I didn't say anything?"

"Tell me the truth, Naomi."

"Kioku-sensei? Are you alright? You seem to be hearing things." Well, comment did seem to be rude in a way. And this is my teacher for god's sake. Maybe that's way he snapped.

"Are you kidding me?"

That was when I realized a cruciality.

"I-I'm sorry, Kioku-sensei"

". . . I expect you to know this behaviour can not be tolerated in my class and I would not hesitate to make you well behaved on my own if any similar action resolves in my class again. I appreciate you have good grades in this sistem of ours, but remember: I am not the one to be taken lightly. Do you understand me, Naomi?"

I blinked, dumbfounded by the former voice he suddenly altered throughout his brief lecture. It was faint—and fugitive—yet an undeniable spark was evidently laced upon his words in a deliberate attempt to catch my interest. This was a new one. Those seconds of his gaze surged me with an intimidancy far more greater than the ones I had encountered. I could sense the curiosity he held, penetrating me as though stripping me from the privacy and lies I held dearly. It was strange, a person wouldn't so easily use such a dark tone especially to a child and there wasn't a good enough of an excuse to get away with the matter despite any fractious demeanour. The moment my initial became one with his words, the way he addressed me in an obvious display of superiority and appliance of tremendous pressure, reverberated me with a pound of wariness. And he made sure my notice was definite, like a hint of caution in those innocent words of mere scolding.

This feature of him sent me fiddling back my moments with him.

"Yes. Kioku-sensei." I composed my voice, which I realized was a shitty move right after. I'd imagine a closed to tears girl and a pouting brat to deal with this predicament at hand. Yeah, it was that bad. How could someone even be scary through a freakin screen? I didn't realize how practiced it seemed my tone was—as if I was preparing my voice to avoid falter in a pressure worthy situation—only after it was committed. But then as I fantasized how a hole to stuck up my head in would actually be a respite in this particular situation, he laughed.

"It's okay Nao-chan~ Now! Let us continue with fractions, shall we?" He cheered, very much in character again. I hadn't considered him in any way of a threat for the time of our bonding. But then I realized, as I saw what confirmed my suspicion of his hostility, a potential threat to both our lives and the storyline, and—thought not likely—what possibly indicated his understanding of my situation.

All was miraculously revealed . . . in a single ghost of a smirk.

Though I adhere assumptions like this were completely volatile, risks weren't exactly in the things I consider avoiding. And not to say, my complete control over my brain just went flying out of the window, and so being prudent about my actions and responses didn't really register itself into my brain. But this kind of adrenaline, pulsing through me as every heartbeat reverberated almost painfully, kind of was addicting. Gon was right, as we face new obstacles in which our lives would be gambled, fear and excitement can both be what derives our courage to grow. I would no doubt regret this, oh well. My eyes met his and in this split second of interaction, I full on glared.

"We shall."

Haki was unperturbed, my attitude not suprising him the slightest.

Goddamn bipolar woman, he thought, staying silent as the two began to chatter. He wanted to scoff, as of now, their bickering meant nothing. Both claws had already come out, with no doubts and uncertainty restraining their lurch. Even though Kioku might not be a member, he was still bad news nonetheless. And his single companion was practically presenting him every secrecy she held. She was an idiot, he knew she craved for the thrill, even though all her life before this was filled of it. She had changed, when even did Adelynn mind all her beatings as training? He would've known, and she wouldn't have been chosen. Adelynn was miserable, and Naomi was covering it in futile reassurances. Was her pride really this ridiculous to the point she'd straight up lie to herself?

Fucking, he frowned, closing his eyes though refusing lethargy to sweep himself into a slumber, goddamn bipolar woman.

❦εїз❦

(A/N: So I updated. Yeay. Okay, I know it has been like, what? 4 months? School has been wayyyyyy too cruel to me and the pressure from the national exam isn't really helping me for actually relaxing and finish this goddamn fanfiction. Oh God, and also this meant to be like 6000 words but then I cut it so I guess I have a half written chapter 3 now so hopefully, it won't take me that long to finish and publish it. To be honest if I decided to do that sooner, chapter 2 would probably be published like, about a month ago. But writing has been super hard for me, probably because I'm a little rusty from the lack of practicing. And hands down, I honestly think that this chapter is probably the worst I've done. So tell me what you think in a review! I'd love to hear your opinion on this and if you have any questions, ask away!

This chapter was actually meant to be like a filler in the story so not many plot, and many many many explanation. Sorry if it's a little boring, if not, a lot. But hopefully, chapter 3 would be more interesting than this one hell of a chapter.

Wish me luck on improving, guys! And wish me luck on surviving the long wait for movie 20 to have freakin English subtitles on. It's already October for fuck sake.)

Fun fact:

Did you know while I was writing the A/N, I was literally face-desking? Seriously, I FEEL SO BAD. Four months dude and I could've even published it faster!