Conan sat frozen, a living statue of apprehension. Across from him, however, Ran was thoroughly enjoying her slice of cake.
"Mmm~~~"
The delicious treat elicited a charmingly cute reaction—she elegantly covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes curving into happy crescents. Eri watched her daughter with doting affection, offering a napkin.
Haruki, meanwhile, savored his coffee. It was… acceptable. He'd never fully grasped the abstract tasting notes—'bright, fruity acidity,' 'caramel and cookie richness.' He simply knew the floral ones tended to be sharper, the woody ones more bitter.
"By the way, Conan-kun. Your name is 'Conan Edogawa,' correct?"
"…Yeah."
"Alright."
Watching Haruki pick up his pen and make another note, Conan was certain his own expression had solidified into a mask of plaster. He wouldn't… he wouldn't actually use my name in that story, would he?!
No—I have to derail this entire project!
Internally, Conan was panicking.
Haruki did indeed write 'Conan Edogawa' in his notebook, but his mind was elsewhere, occupied by a more profound curiosity.
He had always wondered: how did the Death Note determine a 'true name'?
Was it the name on a family registry? The name one internally, subconsciously identified with? Or the name by which one was universally recognized in society?
Taking the third hypothesis… If 'Conan Edogawa' was the example: his true name was 'Shinichi Kudo,' but his current identity, both in public consciousness and on paper, was 'Conan Edogawa.' Even the boy himself had largely adapted to and accepted the alias.
In such a case, if one wrote 'Conan Edogawa' in the Death Note, would it work?
"…"
Resting the tip of his fountain pen against the page, Haruki grew increasingly preoccupied with the question. He always carried a notebook with pages carefully excised from the Death Note tucked within, making such theoretical tests dangerously convenient under the guise of simple note-taking.
"Haruki-niisan, are you… writing down my name?" Conan couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Yes. 'Conan Edogawa' is a rather interesting name."
"I suppose it's alright…" Conan muttered, thinking the name he'd blurted out in a moment of crisis was serviceable at best. But his eyes were locked on the notebook. Ever since the Yoko Okino case, he'd made a point of watching the recording of Haruki's live broadcast and knew about the novelist's peculiar habit of collecting names.
"Speaking of which," Conan ventured, trying to steer the topic, "Haruki-niisan mentioned you're bad at naming things. How bad, exactly?"
"I'm curious about that too, Haruki-niisan," Ran added, her eyes wide with interest.
"Ah…"
Haruki's expression faltered. Under their combined, expectant gazes, he seemed to consider carefully. Finally, with a resigned air, he turned his notebook around to show them the page.
*[Conan Edogawa:]*
*[Kohei Edogawa, Kosei Edogawa]*
*[Kaito Conan Edogawa, Kato Conan Edogawa]*
*[Corgi Edogawa]*
"…"
"…"
A beat of stunned silence. Ran's eyes turned into perfect dots. Conan could only stare in utter disbelief.
No way?!
Can't you divert even a fraction of that wild imagination to your naming sense?! Just a sliver?!
So all those intense looks and scribbles were for… this?!
Conan found himself utterly unable to laugh. Opposite him, however, Ran failed to suppress a soft "pfft!"
Covering her mouth, she quickly apologized. "S-sorry! I'm not laughing at you, Haruki-niisan!"
"It's quite alright. I did warn you," Haruki said, closing the notebook with a faint sigh. "My naming skills are a documented weakness."
"Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses," Eri Kisaki offered, though she too was struggling to maintain a perfectly straight face. Yet, looking at Haruki's exquisitely handsome features, she found this particular flaw oddly endearing.
Ran nodded in vigorous agreement. "Exactly! Actually… it makes Haruki-niisan feel more real now."
"Oh?"
"Well… because Haruki-niisan is so handsome and seems good at everything. You're very kind, but sometimes it feels a little… unreal," Ran explained, a hint of pink touching her cheeks. "This feels more like the real you."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, I prefer this Haruki-niisan."
"By the way," Eri interjected smoothly, "have you two exchanged contact information yet?"
"Not yet."
Upon hearing this, Ran immediately brightened, pulling out her phone. She looked at Haruki with a sparkling smile. "Haruki-niisan, let's exchange numbers!"
"Alright, my number is—"
Under Eri's approving smile, the two quickly exchanged contact information.
Though a pang of jealousy struck him, Conan could only sit in sullen silence, gnawing moodily on his drink straw.
"Oh, I have an idea—let's all have dinner together tonight," Eri suggested brightly.
"But I already bought ingredients for curry at home… I have to cook for Dad…"
"Don't worry about that slob. It's settled. I'll make a reservation right now—"
"Mom, let's do it next time, okay?"
"…"
Ran began to plead, a touch of girlish coaxing in her tone. Eri was about to gently insist when Haruki spoke up.
"My apologies, Aunt Eri. I have a prior engagement this evening as well, so I'll need to leave early."
"Haruki, you too? …Alright then, next time it is."
"There's a restaurant I've been wanting to try," Ran quickly added, seizing the opening. She smiled, taking her mother's hand, and began describing it with eager enthusiasm.
Watching the scene, a faint, genuine smile touched Haruki's lips. This side of Ran—playful, slightly spoiled—was likely reserved solely for Eri. In her daily life, she shouldered the burden of caretaker for both Kogoro and Conan, managing household chores and schoolwork with remarkable maturity. It was only here, with her mother, that the 16-year-old girl beneath the responsibility could surface.
And Conan?
His gaze remained fixed on Haruki, sharp and assessing, silently probing whether the man held any romantic interest in Ran.
"Is something wrong? Would you like this cake?"
Noticing the stare, Haruki simply slid his own untouched slice of cake toward the boy. He had no appetite for sweets today.
P@treon Rene_chan