Detective Conan
The Mystery Writer's Accomplice
by
sgamer82
The editor was getting steadily more annoyed.
Working with Yusaku Kudo was a chore at the best of times. If Kudo wasn't flat out avoiding his editors, he was doing everything within his power to end their meetings as soon as possible so he could get back to work on the writing it was their job to edit. In that sense, things has gotten easier since Kudo's full time return to Japan. Meetings could more easily be arranged and expect to be kept, minus the occasional "I 'forgot' we were meeting today and went on a research trip." situation.
For the editor today, the reason for his annoyance was not the man himself, but what was allegedly one of the reasons for his full time return to Japan.
"Papa~a!" A whining voice grated. "You promised to play with me!"
A little girl, no more than seven or eight, pulled at Yusaku's sleeve.
"I also told you, Ai, that I need to finish my meeting with my editor first," Yusaku told the girl, gently pulling her off of him. "Why don't you go see what Onii-chan is doing?"
"No!" Ai Kudo declared. "I wanna stay here with you!"
"Then you'll need to sit quietly a little longer."
Kudo directed his daughter to a shelf with picture books and childrens' stories. She picked one up and started reading but the editor knew it wouldn't last. The child had an almost uncanny knack for becoming impatient while he was speaking, interrupting him with an "Are you done yet?" just as he was trying to suggest a revision, and causing him to lose his train of thought.
Theories abounded about the origins of the little girl Yusaku and Yukiko Kudo had adopted. The official story claimed she was an orphan who had served as a witness in a case Kudo's teen detective son had cracked that his parents had taken a liking to. The editor didn't believe that. That sounded too much like one of Kudo's own books. It was almost as ridiculous as rumors the child was a cousin of the shogi player Taiko-Meijin. The editor subscribed the much simpler theory that Ai Kudo was Yusaku Kudo's lovechild that the family had, for reasons irrelevant, been forced to take in. Kudo certainly had the reputation as a philanderer, and the editor couldn't imagine being so indulgent towards a child that wasn't actually his.
"So, as I was saying-" the editor began as the talk of revisions resumed. "In this scene where the Baron-"
"Papa~a," came the whine yet again. Yusaku closed his eyes and scowled. This time, the editor thought with satisfaction, Papa's patience had reached its limit.
"Ai." Yusaku pointed to the study door. "Outside. Now."
"But-" Ai began.
"Since you can't do as you were told and wait quietly, you will wait with Mama and Onii-chan until I'm done!"
The child's eyes went wide at her father's scolding. Then they began to tear up. Tears turned into crying, which begat sobbing. Sobbing became screaming, then kicking and screaming as Ai threw herself onto the floor in a fierce temper tantrum.
The door to Yusaku's study opened suddenly and the screaming that had been, until now, muffled by it instantly increased to its full volume. Shinichi Kudo, reading in a chair by the window, watched as his father exited the study, Ai twisting and squirming in his arms, screaming like an Irish banshee.
"I'm sorry," Yusaku yelled over his daughter's tantrum. "But I'm afraid we'll have to postpone the rest of our meeting. I need to deal with this."
He hefted the crying Ai for emphasis.
"But, Kudo-sensei," the editor sputtered, trying simultaneously to speak over the din while still sounding polite. "Surely someone else could." He gestured to Shinichi. "Your son-"
"No," Kudo said. "This is a matter for a parent to deal with."
"Then your wife-"
"No," Kudo repeated. "Ai clearly wants my full attention. That is exactly what she is going to receive."
Ai's crying suddenly increased in pitch and volume. Shinichi winced but resisted the urge to cover his ears. Shinichi's mother appeared and helped herd the still stammering editor toward the front door.
"We'll be in touch to arrange a better time," she was telling him as she helped him with his coat and out the door. She locked the door with surprising speed once the man has exited. Shinichi watched through the window as the editor reluctantly got into his car and drove away.
"He's gone," Shinichi called as soon as the car had turned the corner.
The instant the words left Shinichi's mouth, the little girl in his father's arms stopped screaming and went limp. She put up no resistance as Yusaku moved and repositioned her to make her easier to carry.
"That was pretty good," Shinichi told Ai. "I particularly liked how you raised the pitch as soon as Dad made it clear your were actually in trouble."
"That was my idea," Yukiko Kudo said cheerfully as she re-entered the living room.
"You seem oddly unsurprised." Ai looked down at Shinichi from Yusaku's arms. "I would have expected a more teasing comment about my childish little act."
"Why?" Shinichi asked. "I've known from the day we met that you could cry at will. Given the circumstances, it's not at all shocking you'd add tantrums to your repertoire; and," Shinichi grinned, "once upon a time, I was the one throwing fits to chase away Dad's editors."
Ai blinked at that last part, then turned to Yusaku, who grinned at her.
"I thought you had this worked out a little too completely," she said to him.
"We learned when Shinichi was little that nothing makes a person want to go away more than a crying child they don't have to deal with."
"You should be happy, Acchan," Yukiko said cheerfully. "You're a part of our family traditions, now. Even better, we don't have to worry about you getting into a 'boys don't cry' phase and refusing to do it, anymore."
Shinichi rolled his eyes at the joking glare his mother gave him.
"Quite the contrary." Ai smirked. "I could see myself doing this until maybe ten or eleven years old."
"Oh, through grade school, at least," Yusaku said. "Assuming you're okay with my editors all thinking you're a spoiled little brat."
The smirk father and daughter shared at that moment told Shinichi that his father's editors were going to be dealing with that "spoiled little brat" for many years to come.