Chapter 11: The Master of Pretending Ignorance

Even though Rokumei Kisaragi had held back most of his strength, Heiji Hattori still ended up squatting down hard on his butt. He had no time to dwell on it, instead focusing on Conan, who was leaning against the wall at the doorway, patting his chest and gasping for breath, his face beaming with joy.

“Kudou, are you alright? I thought he had already done something to you!”

Conan blinked dully, his eyes lifeless. “Huh?”

Rokumei glanced at the two familiar friends teasing each other and realized it was all a big misunderstanding. Raising an eyebrow, he narrowed his eyes and looked at the culprit behind it all. “So, Conan, what exactly happened?”

Conan looked completely innocent. “I don’t know!” He kicked the ball toward Heiji. “Heiji, what’s going on? Why do you think that?”

“Kudou, you’ve got some nerve,” Heiji said with a scowl, rubbing Conan’s head in a retaliatory gesture. “Who was the one who suddenly called me yesterday saying they might have encountered someone from that organization and wanted to confront them, then went silent? I called you like crazy last night and you didn’t answer. Isn’t the only possibility that you’re gone?”

Feeling the deep concern in his friend’s words, Conan was touched. “Heiji, you’re my best friend for life!”

“Moved? Then hand over that sandwich you’re holding! I took the earliest Shinkansen today to come rescue you. I’m starving.”

Heiji reached out his mischievous hand toward Conan’s sandwich.

“My breakfast!”

Before Conan could snatch it back, Heiji took a big bite and sighed with satisfaction. “Delicious! So much better than the ones sold outside! Did Ran make it for you? Of course, it’s still a bit short of the ones Kazuha makes for me.”

Was it really necessary to be so competitive in a place like this?

Rokumei, the sandwich maker, found young people utterly baffling.

“It was Roku… Yukizakura who made it for me.”

Following Conan’s gaze, Heiji saw Rokumei’s expression, which was one of speechless disbelief.

“What? He made it?” Heiji squatted anxiously in front of Conan, covering his mouth and whispering conspiratorially, “Kudou, weren’t you supposed to confront him last night? How come you’re eating breakfast made by him today?”

After a moment of mental brainstorming, he speculated, “Could it be that he threatened you? If that’s the case, blink your eyes. I’ll have my dad send someone to rescue you from this misery.”

Rokumei, who had overheard their whispered conversation clearly through his spiritual awareness, twitched the corner of his mouth. While mentally labeling Heiji as a chatterbox, he subtly flicked a spiritual light onto Conan.

“Your imagination really runs wild!” Conan, equally speechless, was about to reveal Rokumei’s true identity to Heiji when he opened his mouth, but what came out was nonsense: “The spaghetti needs to be mixed with thirty-two concrete…”

Heiji was dumbfounded. “Kudou, what are you saying?”

“I…”

Feeling Heiji’s concerned, patient-like gaze, Conan suddenly thought of something and looked up at Rokumei.

The young man raised a finger to the corner of his lips and silently shushed him.

A voice entered Conan’s mind through spiritual awareness: “Keep this a secret from him.”

Conan: …

Meanwhile, the oblivious Heiji grew more anxious. “Conan, are you sick? I’ll take you to the hospital right now. Two shots and you’ll be fine!”

To avoid his butt being unfairly blamed, Conan hurriedly explained, “I’m fine! I just… haven’t fully woken up yet!”

“Really?”

“Really! I’m perfectly fine!” Conan reiterated.

“Alright then.” Heiji finally believed him and, pointing at Rokumei, asked, “So you and him…”

Conan said, “Yukizakura isn’t a bad person.”

Heiji rubbed his chin, scrutinizing Conan’s face for signs of lying, but found none.

“Since you say so, Kudou, then fine.” Just as he was about to let his guard down, he realized something. “Wait, I just kept calling you Kudou? Doesn’t that mean he knows your real identity?”

Edogawa Conan: …

You were shouting “washing machine, washing machine” the moment you entered, and only now you notice?

Rokumei was inexplicably grateful that he had placed a restriction on Conan regarding his identity. If Heiji had found out, one slip of the tongue and his life would never be peaceful again.

Conan helplessly rubbed his forehead and tried to cover for his often uncontrollable friend. “Ha, haha, Yukizakura knows my real identity, so it’s fine.”

“That’s good.” Heiji truly breathed a sigh of relief this time. When he looked at Rokumei again, a faint flush appeared on his dark complexion. “Yukizakura… is that your name? Sorry for attacking you just now because of the misunderstanding.”

Rokumei raised a hand casually. “It’s nothing. I don’t mind.” He wasn’t petty enough to quibble with a young brat.

Seeing Rokumei accept his apology, Heiji relaxed considerably and, feeling familiar, began asking the question that had always puzzled him. “Yukizakura, have you studied kendo? What style? That move just now was amazing. What’s it called?”

No one knew better than Heiji, who had faced Rokumei’s sword directly, just how powerful it was. Having trained in kendo himself, Heiji realized Rokumei was a rare formidable opponent and his fighting spirit flared.

Rokumei nodded, giving himself this new label. “I was taught by a shrine maiden back at the shrine.” At least this cleared the way before Kogoro and the others.

Heiji immediately said, “I see! How about we have a thrilling duel?”

“No.” Rokumei shook his head, refusing. He wasn’t shameless enough to bully a smaller opponent.

But the spark of battle burned brightly in Heiji’s heart – how could he give up so easily?

He pondered briefly, then used his tried-and-true method for goading Shinichi Kudo: “What, are you afraid you’ll lose to me?”

Rokumei shrugged. “If that’s enough to make you give up, then whatever you think is fine.”

“Huh?” Heiji was furious. “Losing without a fight? How can you say that? Don’t you have the pride of a warrior?”

But no matter how much he shouted himself hoarse, Rokumei remained unmoved.

Conan watched Heiji’s frustrated expression and chuckled secretly. Overjoyed, he accidentally laughed out loud—and was immediately caught.

“Pfft.”

Heiji, realizing Conan had witnessed his embarrassing moment, loudly grumbled, “Kudou, I’m telling you—”

*Clang.*

The door to the detective agency swung open. A sharp, capable young woman with short hair at ear length rushed in, practically ecstatic. “Where’s Shinichi Kudou?”

Conan instantly recognized her. “Sera? What are you doing here—”

“Shinichi’s back?”

Before she could finish, Ran Mouri appeared outside, followed quickly by Kogoro Mouri, who, despite usually being a physical weakling, seemed to have found incredible stamina upon hearing the name. He stormed in with an annoyed expression. “What? That brat is in my detective agency?”

Yet, upon seeing the empty agency, the three’s eyes simultaneously landed on Heiji.

“The Shinichi Kudou/that brat you mentioned—where is he?”

“!!”

Heiji: I’m doomed, everyone!

For a moment, under the scrutiny of three sharp gazes, Heiji felt like he was being interrogated by three judges and instinctively wanted to confess all his crimes.

“Kudou is right here—”

Seeing the situation was going south, Conan hurried forward to explain, “No! Shinichi isn’t here!”

Ran looked puzzled. “Conan, then why did Heiji just say…”

Conan racked his brain, trying to cover for him. “Heiji meant that…”

“What?” Kogoro raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Meanwhile, Masumi Sera, looking at Conan’s flustered state, added fuel to the fire without mercy. “Come on, Conan, spill it.”

Conan shot a desperate look at Heiji, but three pairs of probing eyes soon followed. Heiji, self-proclaimed Osaka’s best at playing dumb, froze again before he could react.

Heiji, you bastard!

Just as Conan was about to cry, Rokumei, who had been watching the spectacle, stepped in to break the tension. “I was the one asking Heiji about Kudou just now. I heard he’s a famous detective who has solved many cases, but Kudou himself isn’t here.”

All eyes turned to Rokumei. His expression was calm yet persuasive.

Ran nodded a little disappointed. “So that’s how it is.”

Kogoro frowned. “What’s so good about asking that brat? Compared to me, the sleeping great detective, he’s nowhere near!”

Clearly, you’re the one I help solve cases, right? Conan twitched his mouth silently but dared not speak.

Only Masumi Sera looked skeptical. “Really?”

Coming back from his rant on Kogoro, Conan quietly pointed at Masumi and clasped his hands in a pleading gesture toward Rokumei.

Help me fool her…

Receiving the signal, Rokumei earnestly babbled nonsense. “Why would I lie to you?”

“That makes sense,” Masumi was convinced.

Dodging disaster, Conan quickly changed the subject.

“Uncle, was the hot spring hotel comfortable last night?”

Kogoro showed a blissful expression. “Of course! The beer there wasn’t just good, but most importantly, there was no case to solve! I had a wonderful, carefree night!”

Hearing this, Rokumei cast a strange glance at Conan, thinking: The case was solved, but it was actually following Conan everywhere. Conan is the real grim reaper.

Seeing the conversation veer further off-topic, Masumi found an excuse to ask Heiji, “Heiji, I heard you’re a famous detective in Kanto. Between you and Kudou, who’s better?”

Without hesitation, Heiji answered, “No question, it’s me—”

Before he could finish, Conan interrupted sharply.

“Of course it’s Shinichi!”

Heiji immediately bristled. “Ha, Kudou… brat, what nonsense are you talking about?”

The two began bickering loudly, while Ran gently tried to mediate. Kogoro, on the other hand, looked thoroughly unimpressed, even somewhat annoyed.

As for Masumi, although appearing innocent and casual, her interest was clearly not lost on Rokumei.

Was she deliberately trying to stir up rivalry between Heiji and Kudou? Why? Rokumei hadn’t forgotten how she had rushed in ahead of Ran just now, and he wondered if she was a bit too fixated on Kudou.

Just as Rokumei was about to send out a thread of spiritual awareness to investigate, Heiji’s phone suddenly rang.

“Kazuha?”

Seeing the caller ID, Heiji hurriedly answered, “Weren’t you supposed to buy the curry and wait for me at that family restaurant? What’s wrong—”

“Heiji, it’s bad!” Kazuha’s anxious voice came through. “There’s been a murder at the family restaurant!”

Everyone’s faces turned shocked. “What?”

Even Rokumei was taken aback. Wait, isn’t Conan here? How did something happen at the restaurant? Maybe I was wrong—Conan isn’t the grim reaper after all.

Before he could figure it out, they had already confirmed the address and were about to rush there.

“I’m not going—”

Rokumei’s words were cut off as Kogoro roughly dragged him away, saying grandly, “Kid, now you’ll see what a real detective’s deduction looks like.”

“…”

Rokumei: Thanks, but I’m really not interested.