SO NEAR, SO FAR
He let out a contented sigh and rubbed his belly almost habitually. He was glad that he got the day off today; being more than 9 weeks pregnant was taking a toll on both his body and his mind, especially since he was working on investigative assignments, and being unable to use his powers was not helping either.
Out of the blue, his cell phone rang. He picked it up to check on the caller ID and was disappointed that it was not Lance, yet it was not anyone he knew. Usually the only people frequented his cell phone were Lance, Joe, his boss, Leah or Bernie, but the caller ID showed only a number he didn’t recognize and no name to go with it. Curious, he answered the phone.
“Hello, Maximoff speaking.”
“Hey, Pietro. It’s me.”
“Terry?!” Pietro exclaimed in surprise. “H-How did you get my number?”
“Joe gave it to me,” Terry’s voice replied from the phone. “Listen, can you come over? I need to…well, talk to you. I’ll explain everything when you’re here. I’ll text you my address.”
“Umm…OK. I’ll be there ASAP.”
“Thanks, Pietro. See ya.”
Pietro waited for Terry to hang up before doing so. A few minutes later, Terry’s text message came in stating his home address. Pietro stared at it for a moment before grabbing his coat and went out to take a cab. After telling the cab driver the address, he soon found himself zooming through the busy streets and up on the highway.
Throughout the journey, Pietro’s mind wandered towards the sudden mystery call from Terry. Terry, as far as he could remember, was a quiet individual. He kept himself to himself, contented to just sit there in his cubicle designing the format of the articles of the Gazette for the day and never really bothered to mingle much with the people in the office. He remembered approaching him once or twice a month to give him any last minute articles to be formatted into the young boy’s computer and would occasionally buy him an extra cup of coffee for his hard work. He had heard from Joe and the others gossiping about Terry being a single father and that his wife dumped him for another man, and also that Terry sometimes would help his fellow reporters get the scoop of the day by secretly slipping in post-it notes telling them where and what would happen, and when asked, he would just brushed it off as having “reliable insiders”, yet he never showed any interest in wanting to be a reporter himself. How the guys knew that much about him was a mystery, but then again, that’s what you get for being a reporter.
“We’re here. That’ll be $25, please.”
“Oh, uh, thank you,” Pietro broke out of his reverie as he realized the cab has stopped in front of a small rundown apartment and that cab driver was facing him. He fished out $30 and paid him, saying, “Here. Keep the change.”
After getting off the cab, he walked into the apartment, unconsciously rubbing his back to ease the strain from the frontal weight. Adjusting the coat to cover his protruding belly, he told the security what he was here for and the old man directed him to the second floor. Soon he found himself standing in front of a rickety door that read ‘2B’.
“Terry?” Pietro called out, knocking at the door. When there was no answer, he knocked a little louder. “Terry, it’s me, Pietro.”
“It’s open,” a voice barely audible replied from the inside. It sounded almost strained, as if Terry was trying hard to speak out loud.
Pietro let himself in. The apartment room looked just like any other home that had kids. There were toys everywhere on the floor and a few other unrelated things lying about. It was almost like a bachelor’s pad and a nursery room all rolled into one, but at the same time there was something a little odd in the atmosphere, as if there had been a struggle happening in the house. The only odd one out was that there were no kids about where there supposed to be.
“Terry? Where are you?” Pietro called out, looking for his colleague and checking out the place at the same time.
“In the bedroom,” Terry’s voice rang out. “Second floor to your right.”
Pietro followed his direction and, sure enough, found Terry lying down on the bed. Pietro gasped inwardly at the sight of his colleague. Instead of the quiet yet cheerful young boy he had always known, the Terry before him looked terrible. His silver blonde hair looked whiter than blonde and there were dark circles under his crimson eyes. He was so thin that his face was sunken in and he looked like he could just fall asleep and never wake up at any given moment. Against his better judgment, Pietro quickly rushed to his side.
“Oh my God, Terry! What happened to you?” Pietro exclaimed. He put his hand on the poor boy’s head and felt him running a high fever. “You’re burning up! Did you go see a doctor?”
“No doctor can help me with this one,” Terry chuckled and winced a little. Pietro whipped out his cell.
“I’ll call my doctor,” Pietro offered. “I’m sure he can figure out what’s wrong…”
“No,” Terry pushed Pietro’s hand that held the cell down. “Please. Don’t call anybody. I know what I’m having. It’s not contagious, but there’s nothing your doctor can do about it either. You see…I’m dying.”
Pietro turned sharply at Terry smiling at him serenely, hardly believing his ears at such words uttered so nonchalantly.
“You’re…You’re what?”
“I’m dying. My baby and I, we’re dying.”
“B…Baby? What are you talking about?”
“I know who you are, Pietro. I know what you are.”
Pietro’s breath hitched. He knew about him being a mutant? No, it cannot be! He had kept it hidden so well from others. How could Terry, someone who barely existed in the office, know about him? As if reading his mind, Terry chuckled.
“It’s no big deal. To tell you the truth, so am
“You…You are…?” Pietro was shocked. It was very rare to see a random mutant around, let alone in his own workplace, and now here he was, lying there staring at him right at his face.
Terry nodded, “My powers started at a very young age. I was 12 when I first found out that I could make people see what I want them to see. I learned to control my powers on my own and used them to get away with occasional small, petty crimes. I still do sometimes. I hid it so well that not even my parents knew of my ‘talents’.
“When I came to work in the Gazette and met you for the first time, I knew right away that you’re different. I could tell by the way you move about so quickly and do your job in such a flash that you are like me. There were many times I wanted to tell you about myself, but seeing that you have enough troubles of your own, I decided that it’s best if we just act like we’re regular normal friends.”
“But we are not regular! We’re not even normal!” Pietro flailed his arms in the air. “We are of the same kind! God, if I had known you were like me, we would’ve been the best of friends! I didn’t have to be so alone in the office anymore! I didn’t have to be the only odd one out among everyone else! What were you thinking?! God, I should’ve noticed you sooner! I would’ve…”
“You and Lance would’ve had a ball with me,” Terry ended his sentence. Seeing Pietro’s reaction he chuckled weakly again, “Oh, I know you didn’t marry some non-existent wife. I know you and Lance are together. I didn’t become a member of the Gazette without at least having a little bit of the investigative streak…” Terry let out a loud cough and winced before continuing, “And I know you’re pregnant. So am I. In fact, this is my second pregnancy.”
Pietro’s jaw dropped and hung for a few seconds before he tentatively reached his hand over to touch Terry’s belly. Sure enough, he felt a bulge as big as his, or maybe a little bit smaller.
“I went to the same doctor as you did. Dr. Tantum, right?” Terry quietly noted as he allowed Pietro to stroke his belly. “He told me that really long stream of biology nonsense about physical and kinetic mutation. My husband—he’s normal, by the way—was thrilled to hear that I could carry his children and thanks to my illusion powers to hide my pregnancy, I was able to carry my baby to term. I let everyone believed I was a single father on purpose. The last thing I want is them to be on my tail with me being married to a man and make them wonder how I had children. We were very happy though when Candy was born.”
“Candy?” Pietro echoed, remembering the toys about the floor with no child playing with them.
“This is the main reason why I called you here,” Terry replied, his face looking grave. “I have kept my daughter in the closet. I told her to stay there until you show up. I don’t want her to see me like this. Please, Pitero, I want you to take my daughter once I’m dead and take her away from here.”
“M-Me?!” Pietro’s eyes widened in horror. “Why me?? Wha-What am I to do with her?!”
“Do whatever you want with her. Send her to an orphanage if you have to, but take her away from here. I don’t want her to be here when she comes back.”
“When who comes back?” Pietro was starting to fear for his colleague whom he had finally spoken to in more than just a few professional office sentences.
“My mother. My real mother.”
“I need more details than that, Terry.”
Terry took a deep breath and explained, “My mother is a mutant, but my father, who is normal, didn’t know that when he married her. She has the power to poison people at will, and she had been doing that since her college years on people she simply did not like or whenever she felt like it.
“When my father found out she killed our neighbour’s son just because he insulted her new haircut, my father took off with me in the middle of the night and hid out here, changed our names and remarried. I was afraid he would leave me if I told him of my powers, so they were better off not knowing. Life was more or less peaceful for us with this ignorance. So far, the only living soul I told of my true nature was my husband and you.
“But I received a call last week from my parents’ neighbour that there was a break-in at my parents’ house. Nothing was stolen, but my father, stepmother and half-siblings were all dead by some unknown poisoning. I knew then that my real mother had finally caught up with us and was exacting her revenge for leaving her. The day before yesterday the police called and told me that my husband died of a car crash, but the autopsy said that his real cause of death was blood poisoning. I believe she must’ve hijacked his car and killed him.
“Last night, she finally found out where I’m living. I hid Candy in the closet with some food and told her not to come out until you’re here,” Terry let out a long torrent of coughing until he spat out blood that was so dark in red it almost looked black, “I…I tried to fight her. I used whatever powers I have to make her think I was the only one at home. She said killing me instantly was too much of a good thing for me. Before she left, she used her fingernails to inject a dose of her poison that would cause me to die a slow, painful death. It took all my willpower just to call in sick today and lie on bed. I’m…I’m…Aah!!”
Pietro almost jumped back when Terry suddenly cringed to one side bolding his belly. When he removed the blanket he saw blood slowly seeping out of the young boy’s pants and drenching the bed sheets.
“Fuck it, Terry! You gotta let me help you!” Pietro cried frantically, staring at the blood in horror. “You gotta let me call Dr. Tantum! Your baby needs help! You need help!”
“I told you, Pietro!” Terry yelled as he grabbed a fistful of Pietro’s shirt. “No one can help me now! Not even Dr. Tantum! No one has ever survived my mother’s poisoning! Ever! You can’t help me!”
“Then what do you want me to do?! Why the hell am I even here for?!”
“Just…” Terry’s breath was getting shallower and wheezier. “Just…Just stay with me. I…I don’t want to die alone…Please…You’re all I’ve got…”
Pietro’s heart ached at Terry begging him as if his life depended on it, as he was the Grim Reaper himself having some sort of power to ease his pain. He cursed himself inwardly. What’s the point of having the power of speed when you’re not allowed to use it because you’re fucking pregnant with twins and you’re fucking helpless to do anything about it? Hesitantly, with trembling hands, he inched closer to terry and let him lay his silver blonde head on his lap.
“My mother…is not stupid…” Terry spoke in barely a whisper, letting a groan once in a while as the baby within him slowly died. “She may have…figured out…I’m born a mutant. She might…figure out that…I’m not the only one left….it’s a matter of time…before she…she knows Candy exist…”
Pietro tried to hold back his tears as he watched Terry slowly slipping away. Throughout the years working together in the Gazette, how could he be so blind not to see the true existence of this young boy? How could he have overlooked him and though him to be just like everyone else? How could he not realize that he was special and that they could’ve known each other much more than this? How could he…?
“I’m sorry, Pietro…I don’t know…who else to turn to…You’re the only person I could think of…The only person…I could trust…even though we barely knew each other…You and Lance…”
Please…Please don’t speak anymore… Pietro begged, his heart feeling as if it was tearing itself up piece by piece.
“Promise me…Promise me you’ll take Candy away from here…”
Pietro was speechless. He couldn’t say a word. He wouldn’t. He was afraid that he would say something he would regret he never fulfilled.
“Promise me, Pietro…Please…”
“I…I…”
“For Candy’s sake…?”
After a long 5 second silence, Pietro closed his eyes tight and whispered, “Yes, I promise. I promise I will take Candy away from here.”
“I knew…I could…trust you…” Terry smiled in relief as his grip on Pietro’s shirt loosened. “My baby…is dead…It’s…my turn…”
With that, Terry let out one long silent exhale and closed his eyes forever, his hand that held Pietro’s shirt falling slowly and softly onto Pietro’s lap. Pietro felt for a pulse and checked the boy’s breathing to find in vain any signs of life, any indication that it was all an illusion that he created just to tease him and that he would be fine. There was none.
Replacing Terry’s body back into a proper lying position and pulling the covers over his head, Pietro got off the bed slightly shaking and walked around the apartment room in search of Candy. After searching high and low and every nook and cranny of the place that looked like a closet, he found that the only place left he had not checked was a small built-in room on one side of the wall of the kitchen. Sure enough, as he opened the door slowly, there crouched a little girl among the broom, mop and cleaning detergents with silver blonde hair tied in two pony tails and crimson eyes nibbling at a half-empty packet of Chipsmore, with more empty cookie packets lying all around her feet.
“Candy?” Pietro asked the little girl who looked no older than 3.
“Are you Mr. Pietro?” Candy asked timidly.
“Yes.”
“Did Mommy send you here for me?”
“Yes,” Pietro went down to Candy’s eye level, holding out his arms. “Mommy sent me to take you away from here.”
“Where’s Mommy?” Candy asked as she fell into Pietro’s arms.
“He’s…somewhere else far, far away now.”
“Is he dead?”
Pietro stopped short for a while. Candy looked back at him with a pair of knowing eyes only a child could have. He knew instinctively that she more or less knew everything and that he didn’t have to sugar-coat the truth for her sake.
“Yes, Candy. Mommy’s dead. He’s gone off with your Daddy. He won’t be coming back anymore.”
“Where are we going now?” Candy asked as if it was the most natural thing to do.
“First thing’s first, sweetheart.”
Quietly, Pietro carried Candy in his arms and walked out of Terry’s apartment room without looking back. Closing the door behind him, he walked downstairs and out of the apartment building, but not before telling the security a white lie about Terry needing him to baby-sit his daughter. He walked a few meters away from the apartment and took out his cell phone, searching for his “Loser <3”>
“Tro?” Lance’s voice immediately came in at the third ring.
“Hey, hun,” Pietro greeted. Lance could tell from his beloved’s tone that there was something going on.
“Tro? Bunny, what’s wrong? Are the babies OK?”
“Listen. I need to tell you something…”
As Pietro continued, tears finally fell down his cheeks like rain.
The villagers of Kaisen Mura were awake. Ghastly sounds from the forest had invaded their dreams and they were gathered in the street, bewildered and afraid.
“Look there!” Akasa said as two shadows limped over the brow of the hill.
When the two boys hobbled into the lamplight, they were so bedraggled and covered with blood and wounds, they could scarcely be recognized. But Kogoro Mouri exclaimed, “Why, it’s Shinichi and Heiji. You brave boys! You have brought us Choir Kids!”
“You didn’t…kill them, did you?” Megure asked tentatively. Shinichi and Heiji shook their heads weakly before their knees gave way. A few other villagers caught them just in time before their faces hit the ground.
The blacksmith and the carpenter took the two little children—almost like dolls in their arms—and placed them in the arms of the sleeping Ran and Kazuha, while Shounen Kid gathered the boys into his arms and to his home up the hills. But even after he had rubbed ointment into their wounds and fed them nourishments, they would not rest.
“Oi, oi,” Shounen Kid said as he pushed them all back on their beds. “Where do you think you two bakasaru-s are going?”
“We must keep watch,” Shinichi said. “There’s no telling when those warlocks are coming back to life.”
“Hello! I heard you guys practically like bombarded those warlocks with dozens of utensils from your workshop. They sure are useful as well as lethal. I bet they’re already mush by now!”
“Ie, we’re not taking any chances.” Heiji agreed as he got off the bed. “We have to stand guard. We must…”
“Hold you horses, lover boys. You’re not going anywhere until your wounds are cured. Now be good boys and lie down.”
Shounen Kid’s stern voice forced them to oblige, but as soon as Shounen Kid fell asleep, they sneaked out of their beds and out of his home back down the hill towards Kaisen Mura. They went to sit on the rooftop of their resting hut under the stars, keeping watch and a lookout for any signs of the warlocks’ return. There is no telling what mighty powers they might possess, and who knows, they might even have the power to rejuvenate themselves. They fear not only for their little misses, but also for the village.
“That was really bad fight we’ve just been through,” Shinichi commented. “I never thought I would’ve lived through this if it weren’t for you.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” Heiji said. “I gotta admit, Conan, that thing with the iron mallet, really packs a punch. That was a real killer.”
“What can I say? Kogoro-sama always insisted on the best materials and the best equipment. You were pretty good with the chisel and all though. I never knew that even nails could kill.”
“It’s enough to even drill a hole through your palm, what else do you think it can do?”
“Ouch!” Shinichi winced, imagining the nails going through his hands.
As they continued to stare into the horizon and keep watch for any false moves, it was Heiji’s turn to stare at Shinichi. He blushed slightly as he watched him staring solemnly out there with his inquisitive, wary eyes, always on the lookout for the wellbeing of everyone. Shinichi has always been this way. He was always serious about taking care of other people’s benefits and safety and his loyalty towards the blacksmith’s family was incredible. There were times when Ran got mad at him and did a karate-chop on him or even used him as a punching bag whenever she’s in a bad mood. There were other times when Kogoro yelled and complained about his help, questioning about his ability in the art of blacksmith, and often on the lookout to see if he were harassing or close to his daughter in any way, but still Shinichi remained with them. Any other normal guys would’ve just split. Not Shinichi.
“Conan,” Heiji said as he inched his hand closer towards Shinichi’s unaware one. “I was thinking…what did Shounen Kid meant by calling us ‘lover boys’?”
Shinichi was knocked out of his solemn trance for a moment, blushing slightly before replying, “I dunno. Doushite?”
“I think you know. I think we all know what he meant, and I, for one, am not going to pretend about that.”
With that, he reached out and grasped Shinichi’s hand tight. Shinichi stared at Heiji’s sun-kissed skin on his hand and blushed even redder. He knew from the beginning what Shounen Kid meant about what Heiji just said. His crush for Ran never existed. Come to think of it, it’s all about loyalty. There’s nothing to do with his true feelings for Ran. Ran was just his little miss he had to serve. That’s all there is to it. Nothing else. His true crush is just right there, right in front of his eyes, and there’s no way anything else could compare that.
Needless to say, their lips met, engulfing themselves in a deep, passionate kiss. They did not part until they heard the cries of joy in the houses beneath them as Kazuha and Ran woke up.
“They are safe!” Shinichi sighed.
“Sugoi!” Heiji said. “Let’s go check them out.”
What a fuss the girls made of their two wounded heroes. There was so much cuddling and kissing, hugging and thanking, Shinichi and Heiji practically felt suffocated with all the attention. Kogoro and Akasa were so grateful that they were willing to let their daughters marry Shinichi and Heiji, but they declined their nice offer. For them, it’s enough to be just together.
“It’s a strange thing,” Kogoro remarked, “but the children we put in Ran’s embrace had disappeared by this morning.”
“So had ours,” Akasa replied.
Shinichi and Heiji looked toward the hill and thought of the dark forest beyond. The Choir Kids would be welcoming their King and Queen. For surely in dying for a child those two good children had regained their lives. And they hoped that Genta the Guardian would also regain life for sacrificing for his royal master and mistress.
The three warlocks were never seen again, and whenever the people of Kaisen Mura mentioned them, a little anxiously, at dusk or at the onset of a storm, Shounen Kid would say, “You’re quite safe, you know, with Shinichi and Heiji here.”
And Shinichi and Heiji would grin at each other playfully and lift their proud heads high, and parade together down the street hand in hand, with their loving eyes locked into each other. And no one who saw them ever doubted that they were the bravest shounen-s in all Hokkaido.
A thin pine yawned over the warlocks' wrinkled roof and when the boys reached the house, they skimmed up to a branch beside the peephole window.
Peering into the room, they saw a round table with a tall candle in the center. The flames guttered in a draft that blew down the chimney, and strange shadows danced across the walls. Now the boys could see the warlocks; their hoods were down and their long hair straggled on their bony shoulders (except the fat one). Their faces were gray, their eyes were green and they wore dreadful glinting, sharp-toothed smiles. The warlocks reeled around the room, and as they did so, their features began to change and the dark flying shapes were pierced with glittering eyes, flashing teeth and knife-edged silver claws.
All at once and with a deafening shriek the dancing ended. The warlocks seemed to have vanished, and in their place three black wolves paced around the room. They polished their whiskers and sharpened their claws, then snapping at shadows, they ran out of the door.
"We must follow, hayai!" Shinichi whispered.
"At a distance," Heiji said. "If they see us, we will never solve this mystery."
Silent and skillful, Shinichi and Heiji climbed out of the tree. The three black wolves were heading toward the forest on the other side of the hill. Even the men from Kaisen Mura seldom hunted there, for it was literally wolves' and bears' territory and a dark and dangerous place. Not only that, there were even rumours about the mythical kurama lurking around to trick and bait people into their trap. But the two boys, thinking only of Ran and Kazuha, moved soundlessly after the warlocks.
As they drew near to the forest, sweet music issued from the trees and the two boys began to falter. They sat back on their haunches, their heads spinning and looked at each other in dismay.
"The Choir Kids," Heiji breathed. "We are lost, Conan. I am falling asleep."
Frosty moonlight spilled onto the hill and the cobwebs that festooned the bracken glittered like strands of diamonds. Shinichi glanced drowsily at Heiji and sweeping at the cobwebs, he thrust a handful deep into each ear. Without a word Heiji did the same. Deaf now to the bewitching song, they sped down the hill, anxious not to lose sight of the warlocks. When they reached the trees, however, the three black wolves had vanished.
"Now where the heck can they be?" Shinichi muttered, forgetting the fact that Heiji couldn't hear him. He stared at Heiji who was scouting the area to see where they could've possibly gone to and couldn't help feeling a heartthrob beating through his chest. He had never felt like this towards Heiji before. It felt…different. It felt almost like the way he crushed on Ran, but slightly deeper. It was like…as if…as if he was…
'Baka! That couldn't be it!' Shinichi denied. 'I can't be in love with Heiji! He's my best friend! Besides, I like Ran-sama! My heart is for Ran-sama, not for…I'm a straight person now…am I?'
Heiji realized that he was being stared at and turned to Shinichi, which Shinichi quickly looked away, blushing red. Finally, deciding to trust in their sixth sense, Shinichi and Heiji entered the forest. Ancient trees grinned and threatened, tangled roots caught and tripped their feet; and branches cut through their already healed skin, but the proud boys pressed on until they found themselves on the fringe of a glade lit by flames. The three black wolves were circling a fire, and their smiles were so wild and wicked that Shinichi and Heiji almost turned back at the sight of them. But as their eyes became accustomed to the fierce light, they saw small figures dressed in white moving beneath the trees, and they knew they had found the Choir Kids.
Shinichi and Heiji leapt into a tree just as the black wolves ceased their wild walk. They faced the crowd of little children, and one of the wolves, the one with a streak of golden brown across his head, stepped forward.
The children stared up at her fearfully, and Shinichi and Heiji swept the cobwebs out of their ears. They couldn't believe their eyes: the Choir Kids were literally children no older than 7, and they were all dressed in white clothes from head to toe, with a pair of silver fairy-like wings that glittered under the fire. All of them had strawberry-blonde hair and matching blue eyes and looked like little angels standing before three huge demons. The glade was silent; a warlock was about to speak.
"Children," he said. "You have pleased us. You have punished the blacksmith and the carpenter, but it is not enough. Today the weaver refused me. He has a baby. You must sing it to sleep and club it. If you do not, you know what will happen!" And he raised a paw that glittered with razor-sharp claws.
Out of the crowd crept three children. Two of them were slightly different than the rest of the crowd. They have silver blonde hair and silver eyes, with wings of gold and glittered more magnificent than the other Choir Kids and they had tiny crowns above their heads. The third person was chubby, with no wings and holding a club, and looked just like the rest of the Choir Kids. Shinichi and Heiji assumed that they were the King and Queen and the Guardian of the Choir Kids.
"We have decided not to harm any more children," the King said. "Our power of songs is supposed to be used to calm travelers and people who get lost in the woods and guide people who search for them to find those poor lost souls, and the power of our Guardian Genta's club is to punish those who do not cherish and try to destroy our natural homes. We're not supposed to use them on young teens and kids to make them sleep forever! This is not our way!"
"You will do as we say, King Mitsuhiko," the wolves snarled, "or we will kill every one of you!"
"We have made our decision," the Queen piped up. "We will not bite children! Hurting little kids for your own satisfaction was not part of the bargain!"
"Foolish Queen Ayumi!" the warlocks shrieked, and they pounced upon the little kids and struck them with their terrible claws.
The two royal children rolled over and lay still.
"You'll pay for this!" Genta yelled as he raised his club to hit the warlocks, but in vain. He, too, suffered the same fate as one of the warlocks smashed him onto the tree Shinichi and Heiji were hiding, making him bleed from head to toe, much to the horrified Choir Kids.
"We must finish those warlocks, once and for all," Shinichi whispered, and together he and Heiji leapt from their tree onto the three black wolves.
The warlock-wolves had claws that burned, teeth that sank into the very bone and the strength of a hundred dogs. But Shinichi and Heiji clung on until even their eyes began to fail. Shinichi, armed with an iron mallet, and Heiji, armed with a chisel and a hammer, attacked the wolves again and again without even stopping for breath. Using whatever weapons they've obtained from their masters' workshop, they were bent on the kill and were slightly deafened by the shrill howls and shrieks made by the wolves as they pound them over and over. They could hear the cries and screams of the Choir Kids as they ran for cover. They thought they must be fighting in their sleep and that when they woke, they would find themselves in the barn.
But when Shinichi and Heiji opened their eyes at last, they were in the forest and the taste of blood told them they had not been dreaming. Beside them were three motionless, bloodied forms and around them were their work tools used as weapons, drenched entirely in blood.
"Dead!" Heiji said. "And look, there are the King and Queen of the Choir Kids."
Shinichi and Heiji limped over towards the body of King Mitsuhiko and Queen Ayumi. They lay their motionless, stained in blood with a wound fatal by the warlocks' blow. The fascinating thing was their blood was not red, but silver-blue in colour.
"Well, at least we didn't have to kill them," Shinichi said. "The warlocks did it for us. Kuso, my body hurts worse than before!"
"To think that Shounen Kid went through loads of trouble and herbs trying to cure our wounds," Heiji sighed helplessly. "Come on, let's take these kids to our masters. Boy, what a painful way to die."
With but one thought the two boys picked up a tiny body, and carrying them gently in their arms, they crept out of the glade.
The next morning Akasa found his daughter fast asleep on the doorstep. She was stiff and cold in her nightie and he could not wake her. As he carried Kazuha into the house, the carpenter saw the tiny bruise on the girl’s wrist and he knew that his daughter suffered from the same dreadful sickness as Ran Mouri. Heiji woke up almost too late from his deep sleep in the bracken and when he got there and saw the deathly, cold aura about the house, he knew what was coming for him.
“What use is an assistant if he can’t keep an intruder from our house?!” Akasa's wife cried as soon as she caught sight of Heiji, throwing angrily at Heiji with anything she could get her hands on. “You useless boy! I should've known we trusted you too much! Get out of our house, now!!”
Heiji guiltily accepted the blows inflicted on him, not moving from where he stood.
“There’s more than intruders at work here,” the carpenter said as he tried to calm his wife down. “Why should our daughter leave her bed on a frosty night? Sorcery, that’s what it is!”
Heiji slunk away with his bruised body, ashamed and sad. He couldn’t believe that he would be sleeping on the job. He was supposed to protect his little miss, but he failed. Now he understood what his best friend was musing about all this while. On his way to the resting hut, he met Shinichi in the street, and the two boys strolled together, sharing their terrible news.
“I heard about Kazuha,” Shinichi said.
“Yeah, well, I guess I understand now how you feel,” Heiji said. “But why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve warned me if this was going to happen. I might have been able to protect Kazuha.”
“Gomen…” Shinichi looked away, looking guilty. Heiji regretted ever saying that.
“Su…Sunimase. You still haven’t gotten over the shock yet, of course you couldn’t warn me.”
Shinichi gave him a wry smile, but he was still trying to fight the guilty feeling for not able to save Ran.
“Do your wounds still hurt? You look like you’ve been into some samurai war,” Heiji said as he touched one of the cuts on Shinichi’s cheek, which Shinichi winced from.
“Itai…”
“Come on, Conan. Let me treat you of your wounds.”
“Ie…” Shinichi shook his head. “I’m fine. Leave me like this.”
“Conan, I am not going to tolerate this childishness!” Heiji exclaimed with his hands on his hips. “We are going to the resting hut right now and you are going to be treated whether you like it or not! That means all your wounds will be disinfected and plastered, you understand me?!”
“Ha…Hait…” Shinichi shrank. Heiji can be very scary and fierce if he has to. “I’ll do it already. You don’t have to yell. You need some medication yourself, anyways.”
“Good,” Heiji said as he tugged Shinichi’s sleeve, careful not to touch the wound. “Let’s get going.”
As they passed the weaver’s cottage on their way to the resting hut, they felt a hush behind them, like an indrawn breath that swallowed even the birds’ song.
The two boys ducked into the shadow of a sakura tree close by Megure, the weaver’s door. This time, they saw a woman with short brown hair dressed in dark outfit just like her brothers and smelling of chemicals and alcohol, shorter than her brothers and even fiercer. She rapped on the door and when Megure opened it, she said in a cruel voice, “Weaver, I want a hundred yards of black cloth and I want it tonight!”
“Nani?! A hundred yards?” the chubby Megure exclaimed. “I have no black cloth, and I cannot weave it all in one day. Such a task is impossible.”
“Then it’ll be the worse for you!” the woman said, and as she whirled away, her deep blue eyes darted past Megure to the baby girl who slept in his wife’s arms. Shinichi almost went cold when he recognized that glare.
The dark figure swooped up the hill in her gloomy crow colours and the two boys gazed helplessly at each other.
“That glare,” Shinichi said. “I’ve seen that glare before. Her first brother gave that glare to Ran the day Kogoro-sama refused his request.”
“We must do something, Conan,” Heiji said. “Or like Ran and Kazuha, that poor baby will sleep forever.”
“Let us go to Shounen Kid,” Shinichi suggested. “His herbs may be useless against the sleeping sickness, but he is still the wisest in the village. He will surely give us some advice.”
When they got to his house after quite a while of walking and running, they were quite surprised to see, for the first time, the home of Kaisen Mura’s wisest man. It was like a palace compared to the rest of the houses in Kaisen Mura and it sure stood out from the rest, with its structure made of the finest wood and the doors and windows made out of the finest materials anyone could find. Not only was he the wisest, but probably the richest as well.
Shounen Kid was out on the hill, so the boys sneaked through his window. They gazed at the herbs and the berries and heather; so many bright bottles, so many fragrant bowls. Not to mention the medicinal gadgets displayed there that they have never exactly seen before. They crept close to his fire to wait. Shounen Kid soon came back with his basket in his arm. He saw them and smiled.
“Well, it’s Shinichi and Heiji, isn’t it?” Shounen Kid said, twilight following him into the room in his sleek white suit and white hat. “Come for advice, have you?”
“Hait, Shounen Kid,” Shinichi said. “We need help from you and we kinda need it fast.”
“Honto?” Shounen Kid asked.
“Honto ni,” Heiji chimed in. “We want to know if there is a cure for our little misses.”
“There is a way to cure Kazuha and Ran,” the young man said. “If you can bring two freshly killed Choir Kids to the blacksmith and the carpenter, their children will be saved. But you must stay awake through the bewitching song, or you are lost!”
“Na…Nani…?” Shinichi stammered. “We actually have to kill those kids?”
“That’s the way it has to be,” Shounen Kid replied.
“Don’t you think it’s a little bit too…extreme?” Heiji asked hesitantly. “I mean we have to kill two kids in order to save our little misses. We have to become like, well, like murderers. I would not drag my best friend into this. Never.”
“Well, do you want to save your little misses or not? Or do you guys want to just sit in a corner together hugging each other in self-pity as you watch your little misses sleep their lives away along with the other victims…until it reaches the both of you?”
Shinichi and Heiji didn’t know what to say.
“Glad that we’ve understood each other. Watch those warlocks now and follow them,” Shounen Kid said. He tapped each boy's forehead with his brass cane and for a moment they glimmered like fairy creatures. “A little magic to give you strength,” he said. “Be off with you now, for soon those warlocks will be on the move.”
“Umm…Before that,” Heiji said as he pointed at Shinichi’s wounds all over his body, “can you do something about these wounds on Conan here?”
“Hey, you too, you know!” Shinichi pointed accusingly at Heiji’s bruises.
“Hait,” Shounen Kid grinned and used the cane to magic his clothes off, revealing his bare body. With his special ointments, he lathered it all over Shinichi’s wounds. Heiji watched him do it and couldn’t help blushing. He didn’t know why though. Maybe it’s because it is the first time he had ever seen Shinichi naked. Shounen Kid stole a look at Heiji and grinned knowingly as he waited for the wounds to close up before he magic the clothes back on him. He repeated the same process on Heiji and he saw the same reaction Heiji had towards Shinichi on Shinichi himself. He grinned even more.
“Off you go now, boys,” Shounen Kid said after he magic Heiji’s clothes back on him. “And remember, be careful.”
Shinichi and Heiji nodded and walked out into the starlight, with their heads high and their golden eyes beaming eagerly into the night.
