justonetruth | (no subject)

Conan held out the school bag mutely. He was still trying to work out whether the marble lobby was a very convincing optical illusion, or if Mouri had renovated and he'd missed it.

"Your Dad redecorated?"

It was his Shinichi. And he must have just gotten here. Ran grinned broadly from ear to ear, immensely relieved, and crouched down in front of his friend.

"Do you want the short weird version, the long weird version, or the really long, really weird version?"

Ran -- seemed far too happy. Conan set the bag of karate gear down. "No non-weird versions?" He asked, feeling he already knew the answer. "Give me the short version."

"We're in some kind of giant endless mansion between dimensions, and there's a bunch of alternate versions of us here," Ran said promptly. Shinichi was going to think he was crazy, obviously, but he'd already figured that that was unavoidable at this point.

"I think I've been stuck here about a month," he added thoughtfully, folding his arms over his knees. "Nothing happened back home, right?"

Though he suspected it hadn't, given that Shinichi had been hollering about the same tournament that Ran still remembered having to go to.

Conan stared at Ran wordlessly. He hadn't seemed that stressed about the tournament -- maybe it was the pressure of keeping Conan's true identity finally getting to him? "Giant endless mansion between dimensions," he repeated. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Nobody's been able to find the back of it. We either wind up in the lobby or the hallways just keep going forever," his friend said with a shrug. Despite what he'd been saying to the ghost Shinichi a while ago, he had gotten rather used to this place's weirdness.

...Now how had they figured out it was between dimensions? Ran paused as he tried to remember. "Everybody here is someone we know or who knows us, only they're from a world where things happened differently," he said, adding helpfully, "You should see the version of you that decided to become the Kid. It's kind of creepy."

"That would be more convincing if your sense of direction was better," Conan pointed out, going on tip-toe to press his wrist against Ran's forehead -- no obvious temperature. Not a fever then, but that didn't rule out head-trauma.

"Version of me that decided to become the Kid?" he echoed, walking around his friend to see if there was any damage apparent from the back. "What is the longer version of this?"

"Oi!" Ran swatted at Conan's hand with a scowl. "I'm not sick! You'll see what I mean when you see who's here."

Of course, it figured that when it would be most convenient to have someone else in the lobby, it was completely empty. Ran sighed and just sat down on the floor, figuring this was going to take a while.

"There's more than enough bedrooms for everybody here, and food keeps showing up in the kitchen and dining room, but nobody knows where it's coming from," he grumped. "None of us brought it, but we haven't seen anyone like a worker bringing it in."

He paused again, trying to figure out what Shinichi would want to know and in what order. "I think Hattori-san's been stuck here the longest. She said she'd been here for three months when I showed up. A few people have gone home and come back again, but they said they don't remember this place when they get back."

"No signs of trauma," Conan agreed, having finished his inspection. "But you can't have been gone a month. You only ran out of the door a minute ago. And I got a mail from Hattori just last night."

He paused and went back to the door. It was a two-door affair, in a grand style designed to be entirely in keeping with the luxuriously decorated lobby -- and not even remotely kid-friendly. Conan struggled against the inevitable but the door handle wouldn't budge. "Ran, can I have a hand here?"

"And when I ran out the door it brought me here," Ran reiterated, getting to his feet again. He grinned at Conan's struggle with the door handle (his mental tally bumped up to Conan: 2, Doors: 187), but didn't comment on it beyond that as he pulled it open for the tantei. "What mail?"

The door opened out onto a scene that was nothing like the Mouri's apartment and Conan stared a long moment at the misty outdoor scenery, before climbing down the steps. The atmosphere was cool, with the sort of freshness you only get outside and he added that to his mental list of things wrong with this situation. "It's supposed to be summer," he protested, reaching the bottom of the steps and examining the ground closely. Brick and asphalt could be transported, but not in a matter of minutes and not without give-away sound -- and there was moss growing on these stones. No traces of footprints or work vehicles on the grass either -- could they have been kidnapped?

But they'd have had to be sedated a matter of months for it to be winter and no way they'd not be feeling the effects of that. So that left -- what exactly?

What Conan could see of the surroundings indicated generic landscaping, more suited to a private garden or park than Beika. He backed up to look at the house but the fact of its size was hidden by the mist. "Just a mail," he said, belatedly registering Ran's question, hard at work trying to figure this out.

"It's been winter since I got here. There was even some snow on the ground before," Ran pointed out, following Conan with his hands in his pockets. He hadn't had much opportunity to explore outside of the mansion, so his half of the conversation was almost as distracted as he examined the house.

"And something from Hattori-san is never 'just a mail'. Was it for Conan or Shinichi?"

Snow on the ground? That put them North of Tokyo then, at the very least. And the mist -- Gunma-ken? But that was more autumnal ... A sudden gust of wind reminded Conan that he was dressed for Tokyo summer and he decided that it might be politic to continue his investigations inside.

The lobby was just where they'd left it -- Conan wasn't sure whether that was a relief or a disappointment. "How long ago was that? Are there any calenders around here?" He retrieved the bentos, leaving Ran to take the karate gear, while he debated telling Ran it wasn't any of his business who the mail was for. "Shinichi," he admitted reluctantly, "But it was just about a case."

Well, at least Shinichi seemed to be taking this in stride so far. Ran held the door open for them again as they went back inside, then picked up the karate gear and slung it over his shoulder. "Not as far as I know. We just kind of keep track ourselves."

And oho, that was interesting. "It's never 'just a case' with Hattori-san, either," was the lofty reply, and Ran shot Conan a grin. He couldn't wait until his friend met the version of Hattori that was here. She was a lot more fun when she wasn't accusing him all the time, and it was bound to be entertaining.

...Just as long as she didn't bring up anything to do with magical girls. That, Ran could do without.

"So we can't be sure," Conan pointed out before a thought occurred to him and he dug in his pocket for his celphone. No reception -- that was a given, he thought sourly, expectations dashed by too many camping trips with Agasa -- but the date was the morning he'd just come from. "You'd need my pin to alter the time settings," he said. "And it's only a couple of bars away from needing to be charged. No one could hack it in that time. Let's look at yours."

Shinichi answered Ran's grin with a sour look and tried to pretend he wasn't slightly pink. "This was purely professional."

"Sure it was," his friend retorted, laced with the easily-recognizable tones of one who doesn't believe that in the least. But then it was Ran's turn to flush as he realized he hadn't even thought to check his cell phone. Of all the stupid...

The karateka dug in his pockets for a few seconds before emerging triumphant with his own cell phone. He flipped it open, blinked at the screen for a moment, then smirked and turned it so Conan could see the time and date. "See?"

It hadn't been quite a month since Ran had stepped outside of the Agency, according to the phone, but it was definitely getting close.

Conan took the phone and frowned at it, running through all the various possibilities. "No one but you has used this that you know of?" he asked, sure of Ran's reply. Whatever was going on here was deep and Shinichi grinned suddenly, wide and brilliant. "Interesting."

He noted the date of the celphone into his book before handing the phone back to Ran. "Hattori's been here three months you said? And -- another me?"

"That's what she said. And there's a ton of yous, both as Conan and Shinichi," Ran said, putting his phone back in his pocket. For a lack of a better direction to go in, he headed for the stairs; might as well put his karate things in his room. "And everyone thinks I'm supposed to be a girl for some reason."

He couldn't help sounding sullen about that, but Ran thought he had every right to.

"As Conan and Shinichi?" That was really interesting. He'd been impersonated before, that was nothing new, but only ever as Kudou Shinichi. This new development was -- unexpected to say the least.

"Any sign of them?"

A girl? Conan blinked at that and then sniggered. "What, haven't they seen you?"

"Not today. It's weird, usually I'm running into them all over the place." Especially the ghost Shinichi, but Ran thought it would be prudent to save explaining him until later. "There's at least two of you that are actually Conan. And I know at least one Shinichi who has Conan as a little brother."

He shot Conan a flat look for the snigger. "Just wait until you meet the girl you. Then we'll see who's laughing."

"Actually Conan? So -- really seven and Shinichi is an entirely different person?" That was an entirely unsettling thought. His highschool-self felt far away enough sometimes, that he wasn't sure he wanted to meet any real Conans, no matter whose brother he was.

"I'm sure we will," Conan shot back, still amused at this. He wasn't sure whether or not he bought this alternate's thing yet, but Ran obviously did and that was entertaining enough.

Ran decided to leave that alone and let Minori speak for herself when they ran into her. The look on Shinichi's face would be worth it.

"Right. Except for one Conan who got fed the poison and turned into seventeen-year-old Shinichi Edogawa," he replied, his expression darkening. That Conan had been one of the weirder ones, and also one of the most unsettling, after ghost Shinichi and 1412. Just the fact that the Organization would be willing to give the poison to a little kid who was actually a little kid...

Ran shrugged roughly, as if trying to dislodge the thought, but it only brought another. "There's a few versions of the Kid, too," he added reluctantly. "Do you have your watch with you?"

Conan shook his head. That was -- weird. And coming from a guy who'd found himself shrunk and forced to return to life as an elementary school student, that was saying a lot. He caught Ran's expression and frowned -- no need to ask if these duplicates were convincing them. They'd obviously convinced Ran. And trusting as the school's reigning karate champion could be, he could be trusted to know his best friend -- hell, he'd known who Shinichi was at once after the initial shrinking incident. Which left them with a very unpleasant possibility.

Ran was right.

"Of course," he said. "You know what your fanbase is like."

"If you run into a version of the Kid calling himself 1412, and you're alone, don't fight him," Ran said, his tone flat but with an undertone that matched the worry in his eyes as he glanced at Conan. He knew all too well how much of a penchant his best friend had for getting himself into situations bad enough to be considered suicidal. "Not unless you don't have any choice. He's dangerous."

Conan stared at Ran. He couldn't be serious --

He was and that was somehow the most worrying development so far. "Ran," Conan pointed out reasonably. "Stopping dangerous people is what we do. Besides, we know Kid--"