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“Ojisan, look. A shooting star.”
Kogoro grunted. He needed a drink. He needed a smoke. “I saw it. So what?” He felt in his pockets and fished out a crumpled box, but came up empty when he searched his other pocket for a lighter. He leaned back against the steps leading to the old mansion, unlit cigarette clenched between his teeth, chill air seeping through his clothes. It had been a bad case.
“Because if you make a wish, it’ll come true.” The runt was unusually solemn.
“That’s just a fairy tale, brat.”
Conan didn’t seem to hear him. “What would you wish for?”
“A lighter.”
“I’d wish…” The boy fell silent.
“So?” Kogoro said shortly, as the silence stretched. “What is it? Toys? Candy?”
Conan laughed, a bright, little-boy giggle. “Don’t you know, Ojisan, if you tell someone then it won’t come true!”
“Ah, whatever,” Kogoro snorted dismissively. “It’ll be a toy. One of those robot things.” He knew about the robot things from when Ran was that age.
“So what’s your wish?” Conan needled again.
“Piss off, twerp.”
“I’ll trade you this.” And the kid actually produced a real, honest-to-god Zippo lighter from one of his pockets.
“Where did you get that?” Kogoro demanded, reaching out to touch it, just to see if it was solid, but Conan pulled it away. Kogoro could easily reach over and pry open his tiny fingers — and it was important — but something something taking candy from a baby, and he held back.
“From the maid. We used it in the experiment, remember?”
Kogoro didn’t, but that didn’t matter right now. “Alright, fine, brat. I’ll trade you a wish for the light.”
The twerp handed it over, and Kogoro took his time kindling the cigarette, cupping his hands around the tiny flame.
He took a long, sweet inhale and let it out, watching the smoke spiral toward the stars. A second streak of light shot across the heavens.
What did he want? Tickets to Yoko-chan’s next concert. Another cigarette. Megure to stop condescending to him whenever he wasn’t on the verge of blacking out. To win an argument against his wife, for once. Free beer. To punch that Kudo brat for stringing his daughter along. A new air conditioner.
Daughter. He growled, “I want that detective punk to stop yanking Ran’s chain around.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” the kid stuttered.
“It’s pathetic,” Kogoro muttered around his cigarette, “how she gets when she talks to him. And he says he doesn’t know when he’ll be back, won’t even tell her where he is. Can’t even be bothered to call regularly.” He took a sharp, burning drag. “Christ, what an asshole.”
“Shinichi-niichan’s on a case—”
Kogoro flapped a hand. “So he needs to leave my daughter alone. Save her a load of grief if she forgets about him.”
“He cares about her!” The kid sounded as upset as Kogoro felt, when he bothered to think about it.
“So? Doesn’t make him any less of a dick. You think love conquers all?” He took a deep inhale of his cigarette. “You can love someone and still make them miserable.”
“But—”
“Take me and Eri,” Kogoro went on relentlessly, ignoring Conan’s little hiccup. “Knew each other all our lives, and when we got together it was Heaven. But the things that were important to me weren’t the things she wanted. And what she cared about, I didn’t want.”
He sounded bitter. He wasn’t bitter.
“Every other week she flew off the handle at something I did, the rest was me gritting my teeth at her choices…” Kogoro laughed, short and acrid. “And then one day she just left. Me, Ran, all of it. Jesus. Ran cried for a month.” It went without saying that he, Mouri Kogoro, hadn’t. Most of what he’d felt at that time was rage, when he wasn’t liquored into a stupor.
“Yeah,” the kid said solemnly. “She did.”
Kogoro paused, the cigarette dangling as he said, “Huh?”
“I… mean, that’s what she told me!”
Kogoro grunted. So Ran had talked about it with the kid. That was… something. “It’s better this way,” he muttered. He let out a lungful of smoke and wondered what it was. Eri being gone? Ran opening up to Conan? Kudo not coming home? Sitting here inhaling carcinogens in the freezing cold?
Then the kid said into the silence, “But I know Shinichi-niichan wants to come back and make things right,” and Kogoro’s blood pressure shot up again.
“What’s right, kid? Something you decide? Something your Niichan decides?”
“Right is right,” the kid said firmly.
“Bullshit. Weren’t you listening to the perp? Was she right to kill him?”
“No—”
“Sooner or later one of his lovetaps was gonna break her neck.”
“She lied to the police and obfuscated evidence,” the kid said weakly.
“So she was scared.” The cigarette was almost burnt down. Kogoro took one last drag and crushed it under his shoe. “Point is, Kudo’s version of ‘make things right’ won’t be mine, and that’s why that detective pain-in-the-ass won’t be coming near my daughter.” He slammed his fist into his palm like it was Kudo’s muzzle.
The kid flinched, as if it were him Kogoro was threatening, and not his uncle’s grandfather’s cousin’s niece’s whatever. “Maybe he’s scared too,” he squeaked.
“He should be,” Kogoro growled. He ground his knuckles against his palm for emphasis.
Shadows sprouted briefly at their feet as the door behind them opened. A uniformed officer came out and informed them that the cleanup was done, that the inspector didn’t need anything more from them, waving away their thanks as he went back inside.
He didn’t know what made him do it, but as they got to their feet, Kogoro bopped his fist on Conan’s head.
“Ow.”
Kogoro snorted. “Don’t ‘ow’ me, I’ve seen your brat friends hit harder. Here’s some advice. When you get older, don’t go getting attached to anybody like me. Or Eri. Or Kudo. Or…” he added thoughtfully, “Ran. You’re not that good.” He started down the gravel drive.
“Sheesh,” the kid sighed, trotting to keep up. “And Ran-neechan just wanted to know what to get you for Christmas.”
“Well, she could stop nagging about those horse races,” Kogoro grumbled.
“I don’t think she will,” the kid said dubiously. “How about a scarf?”
“Shut your trap and get in the car.”
The kid was quiet as Kogoro pulled out of the driveway and onto the highway with a rumble of engine. Theirs was the only car on the road. Just the two of them and the fan of light from their headlights, and roadside signs that glowed briefly as they passed. No sound except the car itself and the faint sound of wind from outside. Kogoro looked over. Conan was slumped against the door, asleep.
Above, more stars fell, leaving fleeting white trails in the night sky. Meteors. Or meteorites, he could never keep them straight. Just hunks of rock, burning up in the air. Wishes. How stupid.
Eri. The rice fields raced by in the dark. And Ran. Tokyo was a shimmer of lights in the distance. Maybe even… the freeloader. The brat was almost bearable with his mouth shut.
Keep them with me.