Ran Mouri rummaged through her things and finally found a thick photo album from the depths of her bedroom closet.
Holding the album, she sat with Shirakawa on the sofa in the third-floor living room.
Conan, on the other hand, was restless, keeping a nervous watch from the side.
“I remember Shinichi’s childhood photos are all in here.”
Ran Mouri said as she flipped open the first page of the album.
The album was mostly filled with photos of her and Shinichi Kudo growing up together, from their silly grins in kindergarten to standing side-by-side in elementary school, and finally to their high-spirited days before university.
Every photo recorded a piece of their innocent past.
Shirakawa watched quietly from the side, occasionally chiming in with comments like “This one’s really cute” or “Kudo-kun looks a bit silly back then.”
Conan’s heart went up and down like a roller coaster with every turn of the page by Ran Mouri.
He was now incredibly grateful that Dr.
Agasa had been reliable enough to provide him with a pair of large black-rimmed glasses after he shrank, covering most of his face.
Otherwise, with Ran Mouri’s sharp eyes, he probably would have been exposed on the first day.
Just as Conan was inwardly feeling relieved, Ran Mouri’s finger stopped on an elementary school group photo.
“Found it!
This is our elementary school graduation photo!”
Shirakawa leaned in to look; in the photo, a young Shinichi Kudo stood in the back row with a cool, slightly reluctant expression.
Shirakawa’s gaze shifted back and forth between the young Shinichi in the photo and Conan beside him.
Then, as if discovering a new continent, he pointed back and forth between the two, his tone exaggerated to the extreme:
“Wow!
Miss Ran, look!
This Shinichi…
and then look at Conan-kun!”
“If he took off his glasses, they’d look exactly the same!”
Shirakawa’s seemingly unintentional exclamation was like a match, instantly igniting the suspicion in Ran Mouri’s heart.
With a “snap,” she closed the album, turned her head, and locked her sharp purple eyes onto Conan.
Conan felt his skin crawl under her gaze.
He instinctively took half a step back, and a cold sweat broke out across his back.
“Sister Ran…
why are you looking at me like that…”
Ran Mouri didn’t answer.
Instead, without a word, she reached out with two fingers and precisely pinched Conan’s chubby cheeks, pulling them hard to both sides.
“Speak!”
“Are you actually Shinichi?”
Conan’s speech became slurred from the pinching.
He tried to struggle, but Ran Mouri’s hands were like iron pincers, holding him firmly in place.
“I-I’m not…
how could I be Big Brother Shinichi…”
Cold sweat trickled down Conan’s forehead.
In a desperate moment of inspiration, he squeezed a clumsy defense out of his distorted mouth:
“In this world…
there are people who aren’t related but look exactly alike…
that kind of thing…
is totally normal!”
“Is that so?” Ran Mouri’s eyes flickered with a hint of hesitation, and the strength in her hands relaxed slightly.
Seeing this, Conan thought he was about to get away with it and breathed a sigh of relief.
Just then, Shirakawa smiled and delivered the fatal blow:
“Actually, it’s quite simple to prove.”
Shirakawa’s voice was gentle and calm, but to Conan, it sounded like a death sentence from the Grim Reaper.
“As long as we find an opportunity for Kudo-kun and Conan-kun to meet, won’t the truth come out?”
This incredibly precise finishing blow almost caused Conan’s brain to crash on the spot.
Conan’s little face turned pale instantly, and his body froze in place from tension.
It’s over.
My identity is about to be exposed.
Everything is finished.
Just as Conan felt he was about to be publicly executed and even started thinking about whether to confess for leniency or deny it to the end, the expected storm did not arrive.
Ran Mouri curled her lip and released her grip on Conan’s cheeks, her face full of complaint and annoyance.
“I don’t even want to see Shinichi!”
The girl’s voice was thick with resentment.
“That mystery-obsessed idiot who leaves without a word, his phone is off too.
Who knows where he’s gone off to play!
I don’t want to see him at all!”
After saying that, as if to vent her frustration, Ran Mouri picked up the album again and flipped through it forcefully.
Phew…
Conan’s legs went weak, and he nearly fell over.
He felt like he had just been dragged back from the execution ground, narrowly escaping with his life.
He stole a glance at Shirakawa beside him, alarm bells ringing in his heart.
Seeing this, Shirakawa stopped pressing the issue, knowing he had pushed far enough.
If he were too eager to expose Conan’s identity, it would make him look suspicious instead.
He turned his attention back to the album, taking the opportunity to admire the cute photos of Ran Mouri as a child, constantly voicing sincere praise.
“This one is so cute, like a little princess.”
“Is this one at the beach?
You look so happy.”
Ran Mouri’s mood gradually shifted from gloomy to bright under Shirakawa’s compliments.
When the album reached a certain page, Ran Mouri’s movements suddenly froze.
Then, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she let out a scream and used both hands to cover that page tightly.
Shirakawa looked closely and could vaguely see the background of the photo was the azure sea and golden sand.
It was a swimsuit photo.
“Don’t look!” Ran Mouri’s face turned beet red, and she almost buried her face in the album.
“Why?” Shirakawa feigned confusion.
“I think Miss Ran must have looked very cute and energetic in a swimsuit as a child.”
His voice carried an irresistible sincerity.
“So cute,” “very energetic”…
This string of heartfelt praises seemed to have a magical quality, slowly dismantling the girl’s psychological defenses.
Ran Mouri’s defenses gradually softened, and the fingers covering the photo quietly opened a crack.
She peeked up and saw Shirakawa looking at the photo with pure admiration, his eyes devoid of any impurity.
As if possessed, she shyly moved her hands away and let him look for a few seconds.
In the photo, the young girl was wearing a cute children’s swimsuit, building a sandcastle on the beach, her smile as bright as summer sunshine.
But soon, a strong sense of shame returned, and with a “snap,” Ran Mouri quickly closed the album.
Worried that more “embarrassing” photos would be seen, she stood up from the sofa and made a clumsy excuse to hide her predicament.
“The bathwater is getting cold.
You two hurry up and go take a bath!”
Conan felt as if he’d been granted a general amnesty.
He was the first to jump off the sofa and rushed to get his change of clothes without looking back.
Shirakawa also stood up and said goodbye to Ran Mouri with a smile.
As he passed by Ran Mouri, he paused slightly, leaned forward, and whispered in her ear in a voice only the two of them could hear:
“Actually, I didn’t smell any sweat at all.”
“So there’s no need to worry about it, Miss Ran.”