Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was born in a house far too large, with endless hallways, cold white walls, and a bedroom he never managed to feel at home in.

Conan.

A short name, without history, given by a mother who, more often than not, forgot him between glamorous receptions and beauty appointments. In this house where everything sparkled — the silverware, the marble floors, the grand spiral staircase — there was only one thing no one ever seemed to notice: him.

Conan wasn’t an only child. He had a twin brother, Haruki. Blood related but two completely opposite lives.

Haruki was the family’s shining star: loud, arrogant, immaculately dressed, always flashing the kind of smile that made adults melt. Conan, on the other hand, was a shadow. Quiet. Too thin. Too discreet. He never got dirty, never shouted, never asked for anything.

And above all, he had a curse.

Death followed him.

He didn’t remember the first one clearly, but there had been a body. He was barely six. A gardener found dead near the pond, pruning shears in his throat. Then a neighbor — an old woman found in her kitchen — Conan had been the one knocking on her door that day. Then a teacher, a stranger in an alleyway, a homeless man in the park. Everywhere he went, death seemed to arrive a few minutes before him… or a few steps after.

He never talked about it. No one listened anyway.

Even when a classmate had been found unconscious in the school’s bathroom, no one asked what Conan had seen. Not even his parents. That evening, his mother had scolded him for wrinkling his shirt. Not a word about the silent tears he had wiped away with the back of his hand.

But Conan wasn’t afraid of death.

...

He stared her straight in the eyes. She even fascinated him. Because corpses never lied. They told stories in silence. And he was one of the few who could hear them.

That morning, he woke up as usual — before dawn. The house staff wasn’t up yet. He crept down the stairs barefoot, past the closed doors of Haruki’s and his parents’ rooms, and stepped out onto the terrace.

Tokyo stretched slowly beneath a still-blue sky. He sat on the cold stone, closed his eyes, and listened.

Silence.
His one loyal friend.

In a few hours, he’d go to school, dressed in his neatly ironed uniform, his backpack straight on his shoulders. He’d walk alone, like every day. He’d avoid groups, the yelling, the laughter. He would listen. Observe. And maybe... maybe death would cross his path again today.

But he wasn’t worried.

....

He had learned to live with it.

Right ?

he didn’t know it yet, but his life was about to change.
Drastically change.

Chapter Text

Haruki and my parents woke up at 7 a.m. I have trouble sleeping. I spend several hours reading, sometimes not even knowing if I like the book. It helps me escape from reality. The fact that I indirectly cause the death of several people makes me feel guilty. I don’t show it, but I feel like I’m the cause of the deaths. Sure, the crimes are always planned in advance, it’s just that I always end up finding the corpse. Anyway.

We were sitting in the living room, the servants were bustling around us while my mother told them to hurry. My mother has always had a haughty way of speaking. She always looks down on others and is very stubborn. My brother and she resemble each other a lot. Me, on the other hand, I don’t look like anyone in the family in terms of behavior. One common point is that mom, Haruki, and I all have blue eyes and black hair, but in terms of facial features, I look like neither my mother nor my father.

We started eating. The food was hot, but I felt cold. Why?

Haruki was talking to our father about his business and asking mom for advice on acting, since she’s an actress. I don’t deny that she’s talented, if only she used her acting skills with her cursed son.

Am I jealous? It’s true, why do I think like that? I’m happy that they’re nice to Haruki, even though he’s not nice to me and spends his time giving me dirty looks and insulting me when mom isn’t around. After all, he’s an angel with her. Anyway, no matter what he does to me, he’ll never be punished because every time something happens, it’s my fault. And if I try to defend myself, I’m the villain. After a while, I gave up and let him say whatever he wanted. It doesn’t affect me anyway... Even though when I’m called a murder magnet, I feel bad. Really bad.

Conan-kun, you dropped your juice glass. Be careful, please.

Always that same haughty tone.

I hadn’t realized that I dropped it. I’ve been lost in my thoughts lately. I need to stop escaping reality, but lies and imaginary stories are so much more comforting...

Conan, are you listening to me? she said, quite angrily.

And here we go again. I need to be more careful next time. A servant came to clean. I went upstairs to my room to get ready.

The drive passed in heavy silence. Me and Haruki never spoke to each other. We’re brothers, yet we should be bickering, fighting, talking... But nothing. We just seem like strangers forced to live together.

We’re in 5th grade. School bored me more than anything. Forced to stay seated for 9 hours a day, which I spent sleeping. The teachers didn’t say much, I always got excellent grades, and when a question was asked unexpectedly, I answered. I was more of a ghost than anything else. More than half the class doesn’t know me, but I act like a lone wolf. Anyway, even if someone approached me, I’d avoid any interaction to avoid an accident. The day I spoke to someone from my class, he was found unconscious in the bathroom. I was petrified with fear. I remember crying a lot that night, because it was the 10th accident that happened in my presence.

At recess, the others scream and run in all directions. I’m sitting on a bench watching them without really being present. Our school is a prestigious school, the one for rich kids, spoiled children. In fact, I’m also a rich kid, but... why am I trying to justify myself?

Suddenly, I heard a scream of astonishment.

Damn, not a murder, I prayed silently as I approached the gathering.

A boy from my class, quite skinny, white with chestnut hair and blonde freckles, was frozen in front of another boy from my class. The second best student after me. He’s very, very smart, but he also has a lot of anger. But what had clearly shocked so many students was the small knife he held in his hand. Apparently, he was threatening the freckled kid.

I don’t know what got into me, I ran and stepped in between them before feeling the knife sink into the palm of my hand. Blood was flowing hot and started falling to the ground. I froze, I didn’t move anymore...

I just looked at my bloodied hand, and the screams and other noises were background sounds. The only thing I focused on was my hand.

Chapter Text

— Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m really sorry, really really sorry...

The boy with the blond spots?

...Wait a second, how many minutes has he been apologizing and I haven't heard a word?

I turned and shifted my attention back to the tall boy. Apparently, he noticed I was looking at him.

— What do you want? First of all, don’t get between me and my buddies when we’re talking.

— He didn’t look like your buddy, considering how scared he was. And you were threatening him with a knife.

— That’s none of your business. And who are you, anyway?

Another boy walked up to him and whispered something in his ear. Probably my name. How he knew it—no idea.

— You’re Haruki’s twin brother!?

Oh, crap.

Well, I’d had enough of this pointless conversation. I didn’t say anything and walked off to the infirmary.

…

I walked slowly down the hallway. God, my hand hurts...

Is someone crying?

I turned around.

Someone was hiding behind a hallway pillar, sobbing.

Whatever. My hand’s bleeding, and that psycho from earlier isn’t the one following me, that’s for sure.

I was in front of the infirmary. There was a note stuck to the door.

 On coffee break. Come back at 11:30.

Great.

I was about to open the door when suddenly...

— You shouldn't go in without a teacher’s permission. You’ll get in trouble.

The voice was shaky with sobs. I turned around. It was the blond-haired kid.

— I’m really sorry... I didn’t mean to drag you into my problems...

He was crying big, hot tears.

I didn’t know what to do, so I nodded for him to come inside with me.

I looked through the nurse’s stuff for bandages—even if I wasn’t supposed to—but whatever.

I disinfected the wound and started wrapping my hand.

The boy wiped his tears and finally spoke:

— My name is Yuri Tachibana. And the boy you saw is named Akira. He was threatening me because during today’s history exam, I didn’t give him the answers... I’m really sorry about your injury...

He started crying again.

— You’re not the one who hurt me. Calm down. I’m not mad at you.

— You’re really brave... You didn’t cry, even though your hand was bleeding...

he went on between hiccups.

I started blushing.

— You saved my life!

— He wasn’t going to kill you, come on... I just stopped him from hurting you.

— You’re really a role model! I admire you. You stayed calm and didn’t get intimidated! And when you left, Akira was furious!

— R-really...? I stammered.

— I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND! I’ll do anything you want. I owe you so much. And besides, you seem super nice!

Wait... what?