Shirakawa also breathed a secret sigh of relief.
Fortunately, Conan was sharing a room with Kogoro, rather than with him or Ran.
It would be disastrous if he ever talked in his sleep and exposed his identity as a transmigrator.
And with Ran’s unsuspecting kindness, Conan would surely take advantage of her given the chance.
Now that Conan was sleeping with Kogoro…
the one being tormented would be Conan.
Shirakawa chuckled inwardly and, as usual, followed Ran Mouri to the third-floor kitchen to help her process the groceries they had bought, as they prepared dinner together.
Conan, who already felt that Shirakawa wasn’t as simple as he appeared on the surface, followed the two silently all the way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and putting on the act of a curious child.
However, the atmosphere in the kitchen was a bit off.
Earlier in the Detective Agency, it had been fine while Kogoro was around.
But now, with Conan watching silently from the doorway, it felt as though only Shirakawa and Ran Mouri remained in the kitchen.
Both were consciously or unconsciously avoiding each other, steering clear of eye contact.
That awkward and embarrassing scene from last night kept replaying in their minds.
Shirakawa couldn’t forget that upward perspective of the’Southern Hemisphere’ barely covered by a towel, along with the glimpses of mysterious scenery.
Ran Mouri, even more so, couldn’t forget how she had tightly clamped his arm against her while helping the drunken Shirakawa downstairs.
Awkward, so incredibly awkward.
The air seemed to freeze, leaving only the ‘thud, thud, thud’ of Ran Mouri chopping vegetables.
Ran Mouri faintly sensed Shirakawa’s avoidance and couldn’t help but suspect that he remembered everything that happened last night.
At the thought of this, the girl’s cheeks began to burn, her emotions wavered, and the force in her hands unconsciously increased.
The sound of chopping was much louder than it had been the previous night.
Listening to the commotion that sounded like she was trying to mince the cutting board, Shirakawa’s heart hammered in his chest.
He knew very well that he had to pretend he didn’t remember a thing.
Otherwise, given Ran Mouri’s combat prowess, being knocked out for half a day by a single punch would be a light sentence; he might even be kicked out of this hard-won shelter.
He had to find a topic to break this damn silence!
But as a socially anxious person who only played games at home after work, finding a topic to chat about with a young girl was no less difficult than climbing Tokyo Tower barehanded.
Leaning by the door, Conan’s detective intuition kicked in once again.
He keenly sniffed an aura called ‘danger,’ as if an invisible storm were brewing in the kitchen, ready to explode.
His instinct to avoid harm made him unconsciously take half a step back from the door, ready to bolt at any moment.
Cold sweat had already begun to bead on Shirakawa’s forehead.
He could feel the aura emanating from Ran Mouri becoming more and more dangerous; if he didn’t speak up soon, disaster would strike.
Racking his brains and thinking desperately, he finally thought of an excellent topic.
“By the way, Miss Ran,”
Shirakawa’s voice broke the silence, “The old man helped me buy a mobile phone today.
Let’s exchange contact information later.”
These words were like a switch.
The almost frozen air in the kitchen instantly began to flow again.
Ran Mouri’s chopping motion paused, her tense shoulders relaxed, and her voice returned to its usual gentleness.
“Sure.”
The atmosphere quickly returned to normal. This story is hosted at g.com.
Following the topic, Ran Mouri asked naturally, “Mr.
Shirakawa, have you used your new phone to let your family know you’re safe?”
“I don’t have any family,” Shirakawa replied calmly.
Under Ran Mouri’s surprised gaze, he explained with a mix of truth and fiction, “My parents passed away in a car accident when I was very young, and I grew up in an orphanage.”
He was indeed an orphan before transmigrating, so this wasn’t exactly a lie.
The reason he fabricated the car accident was simply that he didn’t want the kind-hearted Ran Mouri to worry too much or fall into unnecessary sympathy and guilt.
Sure enough, Ran Mouri’s face was immediately written with apology and sympathy.
“I’m sorry, Mr.
Shirakawa.
I didn’t mean to bring up your sad memories…”
Sympathy quickly fermented, sublimating into a strong protective urge.
Looking at Shirakawa’s slightly lonely profile, an impulse surged in Ran Mouri’s heart.
She had to be even better to Mr.
Shirakawa in the future, to make up for the family affection he had lost.
A thought popped uncontrollably into her head.
She wanted to take good care of him, like a mother.
Boom!
Ran Mouri’s cheeks instantly turned so red they looked like they might drip blood.
She quickly lowered her head, using the chopping motion to hide her sudden rush of emotion.
Oh my god!
What on earth am I thinking!
Meanwhile.
Their conversation was heard clearly by Conan outside the door.
The look of suspicion in his eyes grew even heavier.
Both parents dead?
This kind of classic lie to gain sympathy was a common trick used by scammers.
This man named Shirakawa really was problematic.
Shirakawa had no idea he had already been labeled as a ‘potential scammer’ in someone else’s mind.
Seeing Ran Mouri suddenly lower her head and stop talking, he thought his previous topic had made her sad.
He took the initiative to change the subject to lighten the mood.
“By the way, Miss Ran,”
Shirakawa sniffed and asked, “Did you switch to a new perfume today?
It smells very nice.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Ran Mouri’s body stiffened abruptly.
She looked up, and the blush that was about to fade from her face spread even faster, even her ears turning beet red. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“Per…
perfume?”
She stammered, subconsciously raising her arm to sniff her clothes.
She had practiced Karate at the club all afternoon and had sweated quite a bit; she could smell a faint scent of sweat herself.
Could it be…
that the smell of sweat was too strong and was bothering Mr.
Shirakawa?
Was his mention of ‘perfume’ actually a tactful way of reminding her?
“Ah!
I’m so sorry!”
Overwhelmed with embarrassment, Ran Mouri dropped the kitchen knife, blurted out “I’m going to take a shower right now,” and covered her face as she fled the kitchen.
Shirakawa watched her retreating figure, completely bewildered.
He hadn’t smelled even a hint of sweat; rather, it was a unique, ethereal fragrance with a touch of sweetness that smelled wonderful.
To confirm his sense of smell hadn’t failed him, he looked at Conan at the door and asked, “Conan-kun, did you smell perfume on Miss Ran just now?”
“Perfume?”
Conan shook his head and said in an innocent yet warning tone, “No.
When Sister Ran Ran past just now, I only smelled sweat.”
After saying that, Conan added with feigned casualness, “By the way, Shirakawa-niichan, I heard Sister Ran has a childhood friend boyfriend named Shinichi Kudo.
He’s a very amazing great detective!”
Is this brat warning me?
Shirakawa immediately caught Conan’s subtext and couldn’t help but find it amusing.
Perfect.
He had been looking for a chance to expose Conan’s identity, and now the opportunity had presented itself.
Shirakawa put on an expression of sudden realization.
“Shinichi Kudo?
I think I’ve seen his photo in the newspaper.”
He lowered his head, studying Conan’s face carefully, then said with mock surprise, “Come to think of it, Conan-kun, I feel like you look a bit like that Detective Shinichi Kudo.”
Conan’s heart skipped a beat, and a layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.
How could he know?
Had he seen through my identity?
No, impossible.
He just happened to think we look alike.
Conan forced himself to calm down and immediately used his long-prepared excuse.
“Really?
Maybe it’s because my dad and the uncle from the Kudo family are relatives, so it’s normal to look a bit alike.”
“Oh, I see.”
Shirakawa responded nonchalantly, not pressing further.
He already had other plans in mind.