"I'm not going."
"Why not?! Karasawa, come on, help me out here!"
"This is—"
"Aha… hahaha…" came Conan's awkward laugh from the other end of the line.
Teitan High wasn't exactly one of those elite college-prep schools, so the homework load wasn't too terrible. But Karasawa had barely scribbled a few lines yesterday before the entire Kudo family descended on him with their antics. He hadn't even had time to tidy up his desk before storming out the door, prompting both café staff to call him one after the other to check if he was still alive.
"Also, don't you think you're relying on me a little too much?" Karasawa twirled his pen and narrowed his eyes. "You don't strike me as the type to drag your friends into things. Don't tell me… you're using this as some kind of territorial display?"
The last two times Conan had actively asked Karasawa for help, it had been after his secret identity was exposed—both times involving situations that might threaten his relationship with Ran Mouri and Shinichi Kudo.
And let's be honest: Conan was known for charging into danger headfirst. If he wasn't that kind of reckless lunatic, this manga wouldn't have even made it past Chapter One. So the fact that he kept turning to Karasawa for help? That was definitely out of character.
Karasawa figured there was probably some unspoken "bros before romance" logic at play. After all, Karasawa was not only Ran Mouri's next-door neighbor, but also her classmate—a handsome one, no less. If Karasawa was seen to be self-aware and respectful about his friend's feelings, there'd be no chance for things to spiral into emotional chaos.
"No way! You're overthinking it!" Conan said, grateful they were on the phone—otherwise, Karasawa's sharp eyes would've seen right through him in a second. "You're just… close by. Makes things convenient."
Well, enough freeloading from the tiny detective.
Karasawa named his price without missing a beat: "Alright, you help me with two subjects' worth of homework, and I'll go do your stakeout."
Conan was momentarily stunned by the audacity. "Huh? You want me, a grade-schooler, to help you, a high schooler, with your homework?!"
"You didn't shrink your brain—just your body. That homework would've been yours anyway. And now you're playing the elementary school card? What kind of grade-schooler monitors a high schooler's dating life?" Karasawa showed no shame whatsoever. "And who was it that derailed my writing plans yesterday and made me lose momentum again today?"
"…I haven't finished my homework either."
"I can help you with yours too," Karasawa replied, utterly unfazed.
It was absurd to even compare elementary and high school homework. Just picturing the two of them swapping assignments made Conan's temple throb—what a cursed image.
But he had no bargaining chips. This was a seller's market through and through.
"…I'm not doing your English."
"No problem. English is done," Karasawa said brightly, gathering his books. "I'll meet you at the corner."
——
"Miss Mouri sure went all out with the outfit," Karasawa commented as he and Conan trailed discreetly behind Ran Mouri from a distance.
Ran was dressed in a full coordinated ensemble—skirt, coat, the works. She looked refined and graceful, a far cry from her usual style.
Conan nodded grimly. "She said she was 'going to see Shinichi.' Tch. She never dresses up like this when she's out with me."
Karasawa gave Conan a light pat on the shoulder—comforting in form, but hollow in sincerity. "Surveillance skills are essential for any private detective. Consider this practice in spotting cheating partners and mistresses."
"Who the heck wants to practice that?!" Conan smacked his hand away. "I—I just don't want her getting mixed up with some sketchy guy, okay?!"
Karasawa didn't call him out for the obvious deflection. He just grinned, enjoying the show.
From the moment he picked up the phone, Karasawa had already guessed which episode this was. Ran had said she was going to meet "someone important," and told Conan she was heading out on a date with Shinichi Kudo. Naturally, the real Shinichi—currently fun-sized—had been struck like lightning and insisted on tagging along.
In reality, Ran was going to meet her mother, Eri Kisaki. But since her parents had been living apart for some time, she hadn't wanted to say so outright, hence the cover story.
But that didn't stop Karasawa from thoroughly enjoying Conan's suffering.
"If Ran catches you later, just say you wanted to grab coffee. Don't spill the real reason," Conan muttered, already drafting the operation plan. "If you can, plant a bug near her table for me…"
"Is this really what Agasa-hakase's detective gadgets are for—invading people's privacy?" Karasawa sighed like he might object, but under Conan's withering stare, he raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, I'll plant it."
Just like how Ran Mouri would completely lose her mind at the mention of Shinichi's "girlfriend," Conan went full berserk mode when the romantic-rival radar went off. Karasawa had no desire to argue with these walking jars of jealousy. If Conan said so, then so it was.
They waited a moment before following Ran into the café. When she bowed her head to look at the menu, Karasawa and Conan passed by her table. With a casual flick of the wrist, Karasawa slipped a bug into the table's floral centerpiece. Then he dragged Conan to a spot diagonally across from her, giving them a clear view of Ran's table and the entrance.
Conan had his radar dialed to maximum, eyes scanning every new entrant like a hawk. Every time the bell above the door jingled, his head snapped up.
A clueless guy, sloppy hair, clearly not up to Ran's standards. Nope.
Scruffy middle-aged dude—definitely not. Skip.
Hmm… that young guy with the long hair was passably handsome, but too oily. Seemed like a sleazeball. Wait—he's walking up to her table?! Could it be…?! Oh, false alarm. Just a pickup attempt. No good! That's no better!
Conan practically had flames dancing behind him as Karasawa ordered a latte, completely unmoved by the melodrama of an elementary schooler's romantic woes. He remembered this scene was also tied to a murder, so he stood up and said, "I'm heading to the restroom. Good luck."
Conan didn't even register the comment, eyes still locked on Ran.
This café had fully enclosed, unisex restrooms—private stalls with floor-to-ceiling doors.
Karasawa still remembered how this case went. The victim had been stabbed outside, then tossed into the stall through the narrow space between the top of the wall and the ceiling.
So as long as he hung around near the stalls for a bit, maybe he could delay the murder from happening.
No blood visible under the doors. That was promising.
But then again, blood could take time to seep out… better check each stall, just to be sure.
He opened—
The aura of death seemed to have gotten stronger lately. Or perhaps, in some ineffable way, the sacred laws of murder mystery manga wouldn't let him keep interrupting crime scenes forever. He'd arrived early—he swore he had—but the victim was already stone-cold.
Well, no choice but to "go through the motions." If there was no blood visible and he called the cops, he'd probably be labeled a lunatic.
"Anyone in there?" Karasawa knocked politely, hand on the door handle. He gave it a couple of courteous pushes and pulls—
—and the hinges, already on their last legs, gave out with a screech. The door fell clean off.
Out toppled the corpse of a woman, eyes wide in terror, landing with a thud right against Karasawa's shin.
The walls inside were splattered with blood, droplets still fresh. The sudden backward fall had caused a fresh spatter to fly up onto Karasawa's jawline. A small bloodstained knife clattered to the floor at his feet.
And there he stood, holding the entire door in his hands.
"…"
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!"
Before Karasawa could even react, a blood-curdling scream rang out behind him. The long-haired guy who had just entered the restroom recoiled in horror and collapsed to the floor, legs shaking.
"M-Murder! MURDER!!"
Karasawa looked at the door still in his grip, then down at the very-dead woman slumped against his leg.
Seriously? What was this supposed to mean?
Was he fated to be a suspect or what?