Summary: When Conan gets amnesia, the people around him want to help him remember, until they realize they know near nothing about him either. So when they try to get a hold of his files under the name of 'Edogawa Conan', no such person is found...

I'm terribly sorry I've been missing from the face of the earth for, what? Two years now? I don't know. Anyway, as an apology, I'm going to go back and attempt to rewrite every possible story under my account! So, I decided to first start off with No Lead, No Memory.

I am terribly sorry about the pain I put you through having to read this story the first time around. It was terrifying. I don't even mean "terrifying" in a good way. It was "terrifying" as in poorly written, cringe-inducing, and had an MIA plot. I'm definitely happier with this story now.

Hopefully you enjoy this rewrite!

1/24/18 EDIT: Cleaned up the chapter a bit! Sorry to everyone who thought it was an update.

"Speaking"

'Thinking'

'I can catch up.'

Edogawa Conan sped down the street on his skateboard, the only thing he concentrated on was making sure They didn't catch up to him. This was suicide, really. Trying to stop someone as powerful as Them in his seven year old body, too short to reach the doorknob.

He was reckless, now he had to pay the price.

He had no clue why he was doing this to himself. He saw the familiar all-black, long silver hair figure standing only feet away, and once He began to move, Conan unconsciously followed. The miniature detective didn't know why he thought he could take Him on, and he was scolding himself as he narrowly avoided both a pothole in the street, and a shot fired from behind him.

The speed he climbed to was otherworldly, and if he even made the tiniest mistake it would send him splattered on the street.

Another gunshot rang out, and a terrible pain shot up Conan's left arm. He stifled a scream, trying to take back control of his skateboard after he flinched. Blood stained the sleeve of his blazer rapidly, even dripping behind him, imprinting itself onto the concrete.

Nearing both a bridge and canal, Conan figured if he could successfully lose Him if he could make the next turn, but only as sharp as possible.

Leaning forward, he picked up the place when he heard the car's engine rev up, sounding much closer than they had been to each other a few minutes ago.

'Almost there! Just keep going!' He wordlessly cried, eyes squinting. 'Almost-!'

Conan couldn't even react fast enough. The noise of from the gunshot hadn't even reached his ears first. He just felt weightless.

It went in slow motion.

He could see himself falling forward, nearing the ground at an alarming rate. Him and his skateboard had gone their separate ways, the latter splintering into a million pieces against the asphalt.

His head contacted with the ground. Once bounce, two bounces. He rolled roughly. The next thing he knew, him and the sky were well-acquainted, as he was soaring over the edge of the bridge.

Straight down into the canal.

Having smashed his head against the ground not too long ago, obviously concussed one way or another, Conan let himself fall. There wasn't a single thing he could've done.

Nothing seemed real anymore. What used to be objects morphed into amalgamations of color, and the only sound that comforted him was the high pitched ringing in his ears.

He couldn't see the sky anymore.

The heart monitor steadily beeped on.

It had been days after the accident occurred. Ran was only angry at herself on why she wasn't there.

Conan was drowning in bandages. Ugly purple bruises littered his skin. A cast engulfed his leg, and his entire left arm was wrapped in a thick gauze held close to his body.

Ran had refused to leave his side the whole time he was unconscious. While there were some nights she had wanted to stay as long as she could, Kogoro had forced her to come home with him, not because he didn't want her to stay, but because she still had to care for herself. It took awhile, but he eventually managed to get her to attend school again, offering to stay with Conan until he woke up.

Today, Sunday, she still sat by his bedside, this time in the entertaining company of the Detective Boys. They had come by with a bouquet of flowers and a box of cards from the kids in their class. The gifts were set on the nightstand next to Conan's bed, which he would surely be delighted to see once he woke up.

'If he wakes up,' Ran thought, instantly shaking the negative thoughts from her head. No, he would wake up. She just had to give it time.

Her hand found its way to Conan's loosely balled fist, which she squeezed with a gentle grip.

The events replayed in her head.

She remembered receiving a phone call from Inspector Megure. She found it a bit strange for him to be calling at such an hour, but when she answered, she was given some of the most frightening news of her life.

Conan was in the hospital.

He was a magnet of trouble, always getting hurt one way or another, but this time seemed to be worse than the others. Megure had explained to her, in very vague detail, what had landed little Conan in the ICU.

A young man had found him at the edge of a canal, body half saturated in water and blood. He was unconscious, and for a second the man had thought that the boy was dead due to his absolute lack of movement, breathing included. While he had recovered in due time, he had failed to wake up since the day of the accident. It was going on a week, and not a single sign of life came from the child.

His steady breathing and the heart monitor were the only things that made Ran worry less about him. As long as she could hear those two things, then as far as she knew- as anyone knew- Conan was alright.

Kogoro strolled into the room a few moments later, having (reluctantly) bought drinks and some snacks for the occupants of the room. He began pestering about eating something herself, which she was about to snap at before she felt something.

Conan squeezed her hand.

Kogoro was about to question his daughter's unusual reaction before she turned back to Conan, who had gained her utmost attention.

"...He...He squeezed my hand..." A small smile tugged at the corners of Ran's lips, and before she knew it, a thin trail of tears ran down her face. "Otou-san, he squeezed my hand!"

Another squeeze, a lot stronger. By now, the other occupants looked up in surprise, having heard Ran's excited outburst. They rose from their seats on the floor, abandoning their snacks and games in favor of focusing on their friend. Everyone was awaiting another reaction from the sleeping boy.

His eyes fluttered open.

Sitting up slowly and silently, Conan's eyes danced around the room, eyes wide and curious as he studied each detail. He locked eyes with Ran.

Ran broke out in a watery smile and pounced onto Conan, hugging him as tightly as she could without harming him anymore. He stiffened. "Conan-kun!"

From behind her, she could hear the children dash up to the bed, climbing onto of it as they smothered the mini detective in hugs. Kogoro even smiled a bit, patting Conan's head before leaving the room, mentioning something about a phone call

A million questions and stories were thrown at Conan, and to most of them he opened his mouth to reply to, only to shut it again when another question was hurled his way. A foreign look danced around in his eyes, like he hadn't ever met them in his entire life.

Noting his unsettling behavior, Ran spoke up, brows furrowed.

"Conan-kun? Are you okay?"

He looked to her, head tilted.

"...C-Conan?" His voice broke. "Is that my name?"

Everything froze.

"I'm sorry, I've been meaning to ask," Conan innocently started, taking in the sea of aghast expressions. "But do I know you?"