Chapter 177: The Boy
Conan's phone buzzed with a new message. His eyes scanned the text from Jodie-sensei, and his expression grew complicated. Cointreau had jumped from the building and vanished after they had all separated. Just as that news settled in, Sonoko's voice cut through his thoughts, complaining about the missed opportunity to get to know the handsome bartender better. He hadn't expected Sonoko to have formed such a favorable impression of that man.
A flicker of disappointment passed through him—they had been so close to catching a Black Organization member—but he quickly masked it. He composed his features into a look of childish curiosity and sidled up to Natsume.
"Natsume-neechan," he began, his voice pitched to sound innocent, "you haven't known Morikawa-niichan for very long, but you two seem to have such a good relationship. Do you... like Morikawa-niichan?"
He watched her carefully, hoping she held no special feelings for Cointreau. If she did, the truth would surely be heartbreaking.
"Yeah, Natsume, fess up!" Sonoko immediately leaned in, her face a mask of unabashed gossip. "Is there some kind of special feeling for Morikawa?"
"If you're talking about a special feeling..." Natsume paused, tapping a thoughtful finger against her lips before a faint smile touched them. "There is one."
"Huh?!" Sonoko and Conan exclaimed in unison. Even Ran, who had been quietly walking beside them, turned to look at Natsume with wide, surprised eyes.
Seeing their shocked expressions, Natsume let out a soft chuckle. "I'm just teasing you," she explained, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "I don't like Morikawa—well, no, I can't say I don't like him. To be precise, it's not the kind of 'like' between Sonoko and Makoto, or Ran and Shinichi."
"Natsume! It's not like that between Shinichi and me!" Ran's face instantly bloomed with a furious blush, and her voice shot up in an embarrassed retort.
Natsume simply looked at the vibrant color flooding Ran's cheeks and raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying the protest. Beside her, Sonoko just giggled knowingly. As for Conan, Natsume could only see the top of his head as he ducked it down, hiding whatever expression he was making.
Meanwhile, Noelle followed a few paces behind the group, a silent guardian. She didn't join the conversation, but her gaze was a constant, careful sweep of their surroundings, ensuring their safety. Her attention lingered most on Conan, the little boy who always seemed to be at the center of trouble. Whenever an unexpected situation arose, he became her primary focus.
"Right, right," Sonoko said, nudging Natsume's arm and steering the topic back on course. "You said you have a special feeling for Morikawa, but not the kind of 'like' Makoto and I have. So what kind of feeling is it?"
Natsume tilted her head. "Hmm... It's just that he feels very familiar. Like a family member. It makes you want to be close to him."
Seeing Conan's brow furrow in deep thought, Paimon's voice echoed in Natsume's mind. [Traveler, why did you answer like that? What if Conan guesses that you two are siblings?]
Natsume sent a reassuring thought back. 'Don't worry, he won't make that leap for now. After all, we don't look alike.'She continued her internal explanation.'Besides, it can't be helped. I'll definitely be in contact with my brother more in the future. With Conan's luck, he's bound to see Aether's real face one day, and then he'll know our relationship for sure.''Saying this today is just planting a seed. It gives me plausible deniability. When he eventually finds out, he'll be less likely to suspect I knew the truth all along. The best-case scenario is that he assumes Cointreau, as an Organization member, simply wanted to see me without revealing his identity.'
She had no desire for Conan to think she was a source of information on the Organization. That would only lead to the same relentless probing and testing that Amuro Toru would later endure.
[Oh~ So that's how it is,] Paimon replied, her tone one of sudden understanding.
Ran and Sonoko, remembering that Natsume was essentially alone in the world, worried that continuing the conversation might stir up sad memories. They deftly changed the subject to recent celebrity gossip, and the group, including a quietly listening Noelle, continued on their way, their laughter and chatter filling the evening air.
At a secure Organization base, Cointreau ran into another codenamed member in the sterile hallway. This time, it wasn't Gin, but Vermouth.
Seeing Cointreau's familiar silhouette, Vermouth recalled his opportunistic behavior during their last encounter and had no intention of engaging him. She offered a dismissive glance, ready to sweep past him, when she suddenly stopped. Cointreau hadn't returned alone. A stranger was with him.
Though she couldn't see the person's face clearly from this angle, Vermouth was certain that no codenamed member in the Japan branch possessed such a slender, teenage build.
A spark of interest lit her eyes. Abandoning her previous plan, she changed course, a sly smile gracing her lips as she glided toward Cointreau.
"Cointreau," she purred, her voice smooth as silk. "You, who used to be a ghost for weeks at a time, why have I been seeing you out and about so often lately? Could it be you're going to see someone... important?"
Without waiting for his answer, her gaze shifted to the unfamiliar figure behind him. "And who is this? It's not quite appropriate to bring an outsider into an Organization base at will, is it?"
As she got closer, Vermouth's eyes widened in genuine surprise. She sized up the boy Cointreau had brought with him, a flicker of appreciation in her gaze. It was rare to see a boy of such startling beauty. If not for the sharp line of his jaw and the subtle hint of an Adam's apple, she might have mistaken him for a girl.
He looked to be only fifteen or sixteen, clearly still a minor. His dark, indigo hair was cut short, framing a face with delicate features and piercing violet eyes that held a distinct glint of impatience. His skin was flawless, so smooth and poreless that even she, a world-famous actress, felt a pang of jealousy.
"Auntie," the boy's sharp, clear voice cut in just as Cointreau was about to make an introduction. "Since you're asking about my business, why don't you just ask me yourself?"
Auntie.
The single word shattered Vermouth's amused composure. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden chill. A vein pulsed at her temple.
"What did you just call me!?" she hissed, her voice dropping as she glared at the boy, enunciating each word through gritted teeth.
"Auntie," the boy repeated, his expression utterly nonchalant. He watched the storm gather in her eyes, and a contemptuous sneer twisted his lips. "Oh, wait. Given your age, I should probably call you 'Grandmother' instead."
Grandmother.
The air grew heavy, charged with killing intent. Vermouth's mood had plunged from stormy to dangerously dark, needing only the slightest fuse to erupt into a full-blown thunderstorm.
Seeing that Vermouth was genuinely enraged, Cointreau couldn't help but think that, as expected, age was a sensitive topic for any woman, no matter who she was. He had no intention of letting a fight break out in the hallway. He stepped between them, creating a small buffer and giving Vermouth a moment to rein in her temper.
She took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing her agitation down. Her gaze turned analytical, searching the boy's face. It had been a long time since anyone had managed to shatter her composure with just a few sentences.
also, even through her anger, she had registered the unusual implication in his words. He knew something about her situation—at the very least, he knew her age was not what her appearance suggested.
"You call me 'Grandmother'," Vermouth said, her voice now a low, dangerous purr. "Logically speaking, you should also call Cointreau 'Grandfather,' shouldn't you? Why don't you?"
She was testing him, trying to see if the boy knew about Cointreau's secret as well.
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