Chapter 4: First Contact with Conan
Natsukawa Residence - Evening
"Aren't you heading to that new villa of yours? I remember you were pretty excited about it."
Natsukawa lounged on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other as he regarded Frank with mild amusement.
Frank had been practically bouncing with enthusiasm about his new villa before they left New York. So why did he look like someone had just killed his pet goldfish?
"How could I possibly be in the mood?" Frank slumped dramatically in his chair. "I'm on the verge of a complete mental breakdown thanks to your daughter. I've never encountered a child like her. She's incomprehensible. Are you sure adopting her will help with the mission?"
Upstairs, Anya was already fast asleep in her second-floor bedroom, sprawled across the bed in a position that defied both gravity and elegance. A small puddle of drool pooled on her pillow as she smiled through whatever dream she was having.
Frank continued his tirade. "Her stubbornness is beyond anything I'm equipped to handle. She's unteachable!"
Natsukawa shrugged. Frank was being completely unfair—nobody had asked him to appoint himself as Anya's personal tutor.
After several days of living together, Natsukawa had developed a pretty solid understanding of his adopted daughter.
She loved peanuts with an almost religious fervor. She daydreamed constantly. She was terrible at most practical tasks. But her heart was in the right place—he could sense that much.
Just last night, she'd attempted to wash his feet, apparently having learned from some TV drama that this was the proper way to show filial piety to one's father. Natsukawa—who'd lived two lives now—had been genuinely touched by the gesture.
The results had been equally touching: Anya had filled the basin with near-boiling water and nearly sent him to the hospital.
He'd yanked his foot back just in time. Otherwise, his entire Japan operation would have been delayed while he recovered from third-degree burns. A legendary spy almost taken out by his own six-year-old daughter—if word got out, he'd never live it down.
He definitely couldn't tell Frank about that incident. The bastard would laugh himself sick.
Today, watching Frank attempt to teach Anya basic grammar had been entertainment enough. Sure enough, he'd witnessed the spectacular failure firsthand—Frank's curly hair had practically stood on end from sheer frustration.
Actually, Anya wasn't that bad. Maybe the orphanage just hadn't provided proper guidance. She'd probably improve once she started elementary school and had actual professional teachers.
Natsukawa still held onto a sliver of hope. Elementary school teachers had experience dealing with challenging children. He'd just have to trust Ms. Kobayashi to work her magic.
Speaking of which...
"How's it going with Teitan Elementary? When can Anya start?"
"Natsukawa." Frank pushed his glasses up his nose, ignoring the question entirely. "You're hiding something from me. You've been acting strange lately."
Natsukawa remained silent.
"I still don't understand the connection between Anya, Kogoro Mouri, and the Black Organization," Frank continued, his analytical mind clearly working overtime. "I've been investigating for the past two days, and I can't find any link between them whatsoever."
He leaned forward. "If I had to draw a connection, it would be between Mouri and the Organization. He's a detective—maybe he's stumbled onto some of their activities during his investigations. But how would you know that?"
Frank's expression grew more suspicious. "And another thing. You had me start monitoring Mouri five years ago, before he had any connection to the Black Organization. All our intelligence came through me for the longest time, but this is the first time I've felt completely useless. Do you have another information broker working for you? Did we agree to be each other's angels, or was that just me?"
He snapped his fingers. "Unless... did Natsukawa develop an interest in the Black Organization years ago, and Mouri's recent rise to fame is actually connected? Maybe the Organization is backing him somehow?"
Frank nodded to himself. "That would make sense. I have all Mouri's files from the past five years. He went from a washed-up private eye finding lost cats to exposing cheating spouses to becoming one of Japan's top detectives. If he had a secret mentor, that would explain everything."
Natsukawa had no idea Frank's imagination was running this wild. If he did, he'd probably applaud the man's creative conspiracy theories.
"You know about Shinichi Kudo, right?"
"Of course." Frank's response was immediate. As a devoted fan of Yukiko Kudo, he knew everything about her social circle.
Her husband was the world-renowned mystery novelist Yusaku Kudo. Her son was Shinichi Kudo, the teenage detective who'd practically become the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department's unofficial savior.
Furthermore, during his investigation of Kogoro Mouri, Frank had discovered that Mouri's daughter Ran and Shinichi Kudo were childhood friends—practically engaged, from the way they acted around each other.
"Wait." Frank's eyes widened. "Is there a connection between the Black Organization and Shinichi Kudo? Could Yukiko Kudo also be an assassin for the Organization?!"
His imagination kicked into overdrive, instantly constructing elaborate scenarios of the Kudo family as a secret assassin clan.
He'd always thought Yusaku Kudo seemed suspicious!
"No. But there is a connection."
"What connection?!" Frank's eyes lit up. He desperately wanted to hear gossip about his idol.
"You don't need to know that." Natsukawa's expression remained neutral. "If I told you, it'd be all over the dark web by tomorrow morning."
He hadn't actually prepared a cover story yet, so vague answers would have to suffice. Though he wasn't wrong—Frank was an information broker. If word got out that Shinichi Kudo had been transformed into Conan Edogawa, the entire underworld would know within twenty-four hours.
That definitely wasn't the outcome he wanted.
"Tch." Frank made a disgusted sound, clearly dissatisfied with the secrecy. But Natsukawa hadn't been completely evasive—he'd at least confirmed that Mouri, Anya, and the Black Organization were all connected to the Kudo family somehow.
That was something.
Frank left shortly after, slightly drunk, heading toward his new villa.
Natsukawa didn't follow. He had errands to run.
Besides his IRS contract with the Black Organization, he'd also come to Japan with the intention of actually living here—not just working. And if he wanted a comfortable life, he needed to buy some things.
Furniture, decorations, kitchenware, bedding—the house was basically empty right now.
Natsukawa waited two hours for Anya to wake from her afternoon nap before heading out.
Beika Town - Late Afternoon
"Shopping trip! Anya's going shopping!"
Six-year-old Anya possessed an enthusiasm for life that far exceeded normal children. She practically vibrated with excitement as they walked.
Japan was a completely new environment for her, yet she acted like she'd lived here for years, constantly greeting random passersby with cheerful waves.
Social butterfly didn't quite cover it.
No, wait. Social terrorist was more accurate.
Passersby seemed to adore her, though. Her adorable appearance was irresistible to adults, and more than one person commented on how lucky Natsukawa was to have such a cute daughter.
What could he say to that?
He could only smile. Strip away the impulsive troublemaking and occasional arson attempts, and Anya really was a good kid.
"Papa! Anya wants peanuts!"
They rounded a corner, and Anya stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes literally transformed into peanut shapes—if that was physically possible—as she stared at a street vendor's cart.
"...Sure. Buy whatever you want."
Damn adorable little demon. How was he supposed to say no to that face?
Anya, reading his thoughts, grinned broadly. Girls who loved peanuts really were the luckiest! Her new papa actually liked that she loved peanuts!
"Papa, where are we going shopping?" Anya asked between mouthfuls of roasted peanuts.
"We need to get you a proper bed, and maybe a dog bed for Bond. Plus about a hundred other things we forgot to buy."
Ten minutes later, they stopped in front of the Beika Department Store—a massive five-story building that dominated the shopping district.
"Attention, shoppers! There will be a Kamen Rider performance this afternoon on the third floor. All interested guests, please proceed to the third-floor event space."
Natsukawa glanced up at the announcement, then down at Anya.
"Anya doesn't like Kamen Rider." She shook her head vigorously, her expression suggesting he'd just offered her liver-flavored ice cream.
"Then what does Anya like?" Natsukawa took her hand and led her toward the entrance.
"Kaito Kid! Lupin III! And Bond! Anya named Bond after James Bond because she likes spy movies!"
What kind of list is that?
A phantom thief, a gentleman burglar, and a spy. If the real James Bond knew he shared a name with a Great Pyrenees, he'd probably crawl through the TV screen like Sadako to express his displeasure.
"Anya doesn't like horror movies!" she said quickly, reading his thoughts.
"I didn't say anything about horror movies." Natsukawa sighed, ruffling her soft pink hair.
Anya sneered internally. Her papa hadn't said it, but he'd definitely been thinking it! What a dishonest papa, thinking one thing and saying another.
She clearly needed to get herself a mama soon. Otherwise, Papa would definitely try to trick her into watching scary movies.
Inside the Department Store - Elevator
They stepped into the elevator gracefully, and Anya's internal monologue was suddenly interrupted by someone else's thoughts.
[Tonight I have to succeed. If I can successfully steal the jewelry on the sixth floor and the antiques on the seventh floor, I'll never have to worry about money again...]
Anya's eyes went wide.
"Anya? What's wrong?"
Natsukawa was already getting used to Anya suddenly climbing him like a tree. She scurried from his leg up to his shoulder with monkey-like agility and whispered directly into his ear.
"Papa! The lady next to us just said she's going to rob someone!"
What?
Natsukawa glanced at the elevator operator. She wore a crisp red uniform, hands folded professionally at her waist, a practiced smile on her face. She looked completely normal.
Besides the two of them, only the elevator operator was present. So Anya had to be talking about her.
But he clearly hadn't heard anything. The elevator was tiny—sound carried. He was Twilight, for god's sake. His hearing was trained to detect the slightest whisper. He wouldn't have missed something that obvious.
So how had Anya heard it?
"Anya, are you absolutely sure about what you heard?" he asked quietly.
"Mm-hmm! Anya really heard it!" She nodded frantically, clinging to his shoulders and refusing to climb down. She was clearly terrified.
Has my hearing deteriorated from lack of practice?
Department store. Elevator operator. Robbery.
The elements clicked together in Natsukawa's mind, and suddenly he was certain—this was a Detective Conan episode. He vaguely remembered something like this.
If so, the Detective Boys should be here too. He'd heard the announcement about the Kamen Rider show, so that had to be it.
Perfect. He'd take Anya to "accidentally" run into them.
"Excuse me, we're going to the third floor. The Kamen Rider show is up there, right?"
Natsukawa turned to the elevator operator with a pleasant smile. The woman maintained her professional demeanor flawlessly. If Anya hadn't pointed her out, Natsukawa never would have suspected she was a criminal.
Probably the ringleader, actually.
Her hands showed no calluses. Her movements were amateurish—no training whatsoever. Even her posture suggested she was new to this.
So the other accomplices were probably equally incompetent amateurs?
"Yes, sir. The performance venue is on the left side of the third-floor shopping area."
The woman remained completely oblivious that they'd seen through her act, maintaining that practiced smile without a flicker of concern.
Third Floor - Event Space
Stepping out of the elevator, Anya finally relaxed her death grip on his shoulder.
"Papa, aren't we going to catch the bad guy? (╥﹏╥)"
"There might be others. Let's check out the Kamen Rider show first."
The third floor was absolutely packed with children, creating a wall of noise that bordered on painful. Kids with parents were manageable, but the unsupervised ones ran wild.
One voice in particular cut through the chaos like a foghorn.
Following the sound, Natsukawa spotted a chubby little boy with a buzz cut shouting at maximum volume about something related to Kamen Rider's finishing move. Near him stood two other boys and a girl.
And there—Conan Edogawa in his signature blue suit jacket and shorts, looking distinctly uncomfortable in the crowd of excited children.
Bingo.
Natsukawa smiled slightly. Time to make first contact.
[End of Chapter 4]
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