detective · detective conan · anime · genius · hidden identity · gadgets · logical · high school · mystery · tsundere
The late afternoon light cut through the dusty blinds of the Mouri Detective Agency, laying stripes of gold across the cluttered floorboards. Conan stood rigid in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat. There, talking to Kogoro with an easy familiarity, was a face from Teitan High—a ghost from Shinichi Kudo’s life. His pulse slammed against his ribs. He couldn’t afford recognition. Forcing his small frame into motion, he crossed the room, each step measured, and offered a shallow, polite bow. "So, you’re you, then?" he said, his voice carefully light. "I’m Conan Edogawa. It’s a pleasure to meet you." The name felt like grit on his tongue. The lie ached, deep and cold.