Chapter 6: You Have Quite the Itch for Acting

Sonoko Suzuki is a genuine face enthusiast through and through.

She might travel all the way to a remote mansion in the suburbs just to catch a glimpse of a handsome guy, only to get caught up in a serial murder case during a blizzard. Or she might drag her best friend across the entire country just to meet an online acquaintance, only to once again run into... a serial murder case at a snowbound lodge.

Though the outcomes are always similar, her unwavering passion for good looks never falters.

So when Conan, unable to wait any longer for Ran to come home from school, stepped down the stairs of the detective agency, he found Sonoko Suzuki pulling Ran into a booth at the Poirot Café, gently chatting with the young man sitting opposite them.

Ran, well aware of Sonoko’s nature, listened helplessly to her awkward conversation. She turned her head and quietly gestured for Conan, who was pressing his wide eyes against the glass, to come inside.

It was unbearably awkward. Sonoko rattled on about everything from family backgrounds to local customs to celebrity gossip. If no one stopped her soon, she’d probably start discussing international politics and financial crises next.

Kazami’s temper was surprisingly good, responding with “Mm,” “Ah,” and “Really?” to encourage her, but Ran’s toes curled tightly, nearly gouging the floor tiles in discomfort.

“This is a guest staying at my house, Edogawa Conan. Isn’t he cute?” Ran grabbed the approaching Conan and pushed him to the table, cutting off Sonoko’s impending new topic.

“Ran-neechan! Who are these big brothers and sisters?” The little “elementary schooler” darted inside, striking a cute pose and raising her voice while glancing at Kazami’s handsome face, alarm bells ringing inside.

He’d only been small for two days—where did this clean-cut kid from Teitan High come from? And Sonoko—if you’re trying to flirt, can you please leave Ran out of it? Can she be a bit more independent?

The two high school girls showed no reaction, while Kazami visibly shuddered under Conan’s scrutiny.

Just thinking of the various murderers, detectives, and police who would soon be surrounded by such a sugary “aw, really?” little kid gave him chills.

“These are Sonoko Suzuki and Kazami Akira, classmates of mine. Remember to call them ‘senpai,’ Conan,” Ran introduced softly.

Conan nodded loudly, eyes still fixed on Kazami.

Though Kazami wore the Teitan uniform, Conan had never heard his name before.

“Oh, so this is that kid you mentioned. Pretty cute! But...” Sonoko leaned forward to look closely at Conan’s face, squinting her eyes. Despite his adorable little face, she couldn’t quite warm up to him. “Why do I feel like I’ve seen this kid somewhere before?”

“Oh no, Sonoko’s seen me when I was little!” Conan’s heart tightened. He forced a dry laugh and adjusted his glasses nervously, terrified that Sonoko, who’d been in the same class since kindergarten, might casually remove them—making it easier to expose him.

At that moment, a voice rang out like a heavenly melody to Conan’s ears.

“Are these your classmates, Kazami?” Amuro Tooru approached their table with a friendly smile, carrying a tray and wearing an apron.

Conan, who had just turned his head to look at Amuro, was pulled back to Kazami’s lowered posture. Kazami’s voice was noticeably quieter. He lowered his head, clutching the fabric of his knees tightly.

He was nervous. But why?

The little detective instinctively glanced between them both, trying to figure it out.

“Hello, ladies,” Amuro said with a professional smile, placing a hand on Kazami’s head. “I’m Amuro Tooru. Kazami is currently under my care. He’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk much. If anyone bullies him, be sure to tell me.”

Kazami nearly lost his composure under that heavy hand.

“You just avoided it yesterday; no need to hold a grudge, Bourbon. Stop pressing, my hair’s going to get crushed!”

Kazami, dutifully maintaining his role, couldn’t avoid Amuro’s hand ruffling his hair. He swallowed his anger and glared at the tabletop.

Conan’s suspicion deepened.

Had Amuro said something terrible? Why did Kazami stiffen like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck?

Unless those words sounded like a warning to Kazami—telling him that Amuro would know every move he made and to behave accordingly?

Were their roles more like guard and prisoner?

If Kazami heard Conan’s wild but accurate analysis, he’d probably be moved to tears.

Finally, after all this time pretending, it wasn’t all just a battle of wits with the air. Someone had fully understood the character Kazami was trying to portray.

“What would you like to drink? I insist—consider it a thank-you for taking care of Kazami,” Amuro asked the students, remembering he was still working.

Despite a couple of polite refusals, the two high school girls eagerly studied the café menu.

Seizing the moment when their attention was elsewhere, Kazami looked up and met Amuro’s gaze.

His misty blue eyes shimmered with pain and helplessness, brows furrowed in distress, conveying everything without a word.

Kazami silently mouthed “Oh no.”

Amuro nodded with a smile, signaling he would keep quiet.

It was clear Kazami was terrified of having his juvenile offender status discovered. Amuro quietly pondered how to use this to glean information about Kazami’s case.

What was going on? The relationship seemed less like guard and prisoner and more like kidnapper and hostage.

Conan, observing from the side with his chin on the table, sharpened his gaze.

Kazami, feeling his mission accomplished, calmly recovered his expression and looked kindly at the two girls whispering over the menu.

He was incredibly useful—now all the key players for the main story were here at once.