Shinichi woke up the next morning feeling an unnatural chill in the room. It felt so cold, as if the house of Mouri the blacksmith has been caved in with snow. When he got up to check out his little miss, he was shocked to see Ran lying cold and still—too still. He gently patted her cheek, but she did not stir. Shinichi felt the chill strike deep inside him, like an piece of icicle jabbed through his gut.
“Ran!” Mrs. Mouri called. “Get up, girl. Come and help me in the kitchen.”
Ran did not move. Shinichi was going weak all over. He felt so scared that he couldn't control the dreadful wail that tore out of his mouth. Mr. and Mrs. Mouri heard him and came running into the room.
“Doushite, Shinichi? What's wrong?” Mrs. Mouri cried, and then she saw Ran’s face, deathly pale on the patched pillow. She shook her daughter and called her name over and over, but Ran was held fast in some terrible enchantment. And as her mother desperately rubbed the slender fingers, Shinichi saw a tiny bruise on Ran’s wrist and was filled with shame. Kogoro Mouri saw them too.
“You wretched boy! You baka!” he yelled. “Someone has come into our Ran's room and poisoned her, and all the while you slept beside her. And I trusted you! Shame on you for being a lazy good-for-nothing!”
Shinichi did not wait to hear any more. He couldn't stand the guilt. He ran out of the house and crept under a thorn bush, the thorns cutting through his fair skin as he went. And there he stayed, disgraced, watching Ran’s window, regardless of the fact that the thorns in the thorn bush were pricking and cutting him like a thousand tiny knives, making him bleed. He believed he deserved this punishment anyway.
Moments later he saw Shounen Kid, the youngest and wisest in all the village, as he arrived at the house. He had brought his brass cane and his basket of herbs and medical gadgets, and as Kogoro Mouri drew him inside, there was a gleam of hope in his eyes. But when they came out, the hope was gone.
“It’s the legendary Choir Kids,” he said and shook his head. “One pinch and the victim sleeps forever.”
“Ma…Masaka…That cannot be,” Kogoro argued. “The Choir Kids disappeared in my father’s time, and they’ve never been heard of since.”
“Well, they’re back,” Shounen Kid said. “There’s no doubt about it. And I cannot undo their sorcery.” He looked solemnly at his brass cane and his basket of herbs and gadgets. “But there is a chance,” he murmured thoughtfully and whispered something into Kogoro’s ear that seemed to cheer the man.
“Shinichi! Shinichi, where are you?” Kogoro called.
But Shinichi would not go to him. He would not go to the house for his dinner and he would not even join Heiji who called him to hang out at the resting hut. He lay all night beneath the thorn bush, watching Ran’s window. And in the morning he stayed there still—bleeding, dirty, cold and hungry as he was. Heiji walked over and approached him.
“Hey, Conan. Why the long face?”
Shinichi just stared quietly at him, then back at Ran’s window.
“What happened to Ran? I heard she got into some sort of Sleeping Beauty mode or something…Conan?”
Still, no reply.
“Hey, Conan, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I won’t be able to understand what you’re feeling right now. Please, talk to me.”
No reply.
“At least let me treat your wounds. You look terrible.”
Shinichi shook his head, his eyes never leaving Ran’s window. No matter how Heiji try to bring him into conversation, he seemed to fall on deaf ears. It was like he never even heard him at all. In the end, he had to leave him alone as his little miss Kazuha called him back to the workshop.
Heiji did not understand why his friend crouched alone all day and would not talk to him. He was even worried and sad when Shinichi refused to be treated of his wounds. Puzzled and lonely, he went to play with Kazuha in the carpenter’s yard. He, too, was also having a crush on her as Shinichi did Ran, but her family was more open-minded about them being together. He was chasing a ball thrown over by Kazuha when he felt an icy wind blast into the yard, and the hair on the back of his neck bristled uncomfortably.
There in the gateway stood a motionless figure. He was also wrapped in a black outfit like his brother, but he was fatter and fiercer, and he wore a pair of sunglasses.
“Ohayogozaimas. It’s a fine day,” Akasa said, trying to be pleasant. “Can I help you?”
“I want a cupboard,” the man demanded. “A big oak cupboard with ivy leaves carved on the door, and I want it tonight.”
“You gotta be kidding me, man,” Akasa replied. “I have no oak cupboards and I certainly can’t make one in a day.”
“Then it’ll be the worse for you,” the man said, and as he turned away, his sunglasses glittered evilly and rested on young Kazuha, who was laughing and chasing Heiji and did not see the look. Heiji also didn’t notice the glint as he was so engrossed in having fun with Kazuha and making her happy.
That night Heiji sat in his usual haunt, waiting for Shinichi, hoping he would join him. His bright eyes searched the fields for a sign of movement, but it was a bitter, frosty night and no rats or voles were stirring. Then he heard a soft crunch of a ball on the icy ground and saw a small figure drift across the street, as in a dream. Young Kazuha was coming out of her cozy home and was making for the dark house on the hill. Swift as a hawk, Heiji ran out of the hut and was after the girl. He was about to catch up with her when on the hill path a sound of wonderful singing surrounded him. It filled him with longing, and he knew why the girl was drawn to it. It sang of love, of friendship, of passion and of sorrow. It sang of the four seasons of the earth. It was a combination of some many other songs that mingled and twisted itself into a melodious, bewitching tune. He sank into the bracken, not knowing if he was tumbling into the song or the song into him, and at last he fell into a sweet, dreamless sleep…
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